Truth, justice, freedom, reasonably priced love, and a hardboiled egg. Did Ankh-Morpork get those things, in the end?
They got truth, there was a whole book about it. Vimes didn’t want it when he got it, or at least he didn’t want the political cartoon section of the newspaper, but Ankh-Morpork got the free press whether anyone liked it or not.
They got justice, thanks first to Carrot and then to Vimes, forcing the City Watch to reform into an organization that helped the citizenry and would arrest the patrician or a whole invading army if it had to. Vimes had to wage a constant war with himself not to turn into just another gang leader, but he waged it.
They did not get freedom. Pratchett was very clear on that. Things got comparatively better, and immigrants flocked to the city despite it being a hellhole, because the dictator didn’t care about persecuting any minority groups or whether or not people made fun of him, but it was still a dictatorship. When Pratchett was alive, fans speculated that he was subtly training Moist von Lipwig to become the new government leader- the Lipwig books always had an emphasis on Vetinari getting older- and Lipwig would have had nothing to fear from an election by popular vote, but that’s all fanwank and speculation.
They got reasonably priced love right away. That may have even been one of Vetinari’s first acts as patrician, since Mrs. Palm is leader of the Seamstress’s Guild at least as far back as the early Watch books.
John Keel’s grave got a hardboiled egg every year.
Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He’d handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula’s home turf? Much more doubtful.
I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it’s not a tough sell, and I’m going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.
Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?
Jeeves
Jeeves’ survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don’t think he’s long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.
On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he’s shaving will yield zero reaction (though that’s at least good for his short-term survival–given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn’t going to wear it. The rules of fashion don’t go out the window just because you’re in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet’s job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It’ll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he’s not allowed to wear it anymore.
Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go– though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.
There are a couple other things working in Jeeves’s favor; the question is just whether they’ll be enough to save him.
He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can’t find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?
He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn’t chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.
Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he’s cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.
He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It’s just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He’s keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don’t see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.
There are just a lot of “depends on"s here, and I’m not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves’s favor, all things considered.
Bertie
Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it’s like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He’s afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world’s preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly.” He will NEVER go exploring in places he’s been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn’s office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He’s both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.
In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he’s shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.
He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he’s going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He’s read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one’s hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn’t speak German or Romanian, but he’s empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he’s plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.
I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he’s susceptible to trances, if he thinks they’re trying to marry him, it’s against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned “won’t go exploring” (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).
I’m inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula’s room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won’t get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.
When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it’s been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.
(SNORTING) :)
So, hang on, you mean there are actually people who don’t already believe Jeeves is a thousand year old vampire?
Audiobooks don’t count as reading. Neither do e-books. Or printed books.
You haven’t *really* read a book unless it was tattooed on the entrails of a one-eyed goat under the full moon during the winter solstice. While wearing a piece of rutabaga on your head.
what if i told you that a lot of “Americanized” versions of foods were actually the product of immigrant experiences and are not “bastardized versions”
That’s actually fascinating, does anyone have any examples?
I took an entire class about Italian American immigrant cuisine and how it’s a product of their unique immigrant experience. The TL;DR is that many Italian immigrants came from the south (the poor) part of Italy, and were used to a mostly vegetable-based diet. However, when they came to the US they found foods that rich northern Italians were depicted as eating, such as sugar, coffee, wine, and meat, available for prices they could afford for the very first time. This is why Italian Americans were the first to combine meatballs with pasta, and why a lot of Italian American food is sugary and/or fattening. Italian American cuisine is a celebration of Italian immigrants’ newfound access to foods they hadn’t been able to access back home.
(Source: Cinotto, Simone. The Italian American Table: Food, Family, and
Community in New York City. Chicago: U of Illinois, 2013. Print.)
that corned beef and cabbage thing you hear abou irish americans is actually from a similar situation but because they weren’t allowed to eat that stuff due to that artificial famine
<3 FOOD HISTORY <3
Everyone knows Korean barbecue, right? It looks like this, right?
Well, this is called a “flanken cut” and was actually unheard of in traditional Korean cooking. In traditional galbi, the bone is cut about two inches long, separated into individual bones, and the meat is butterflied into a long, thin ribbon, like this:
In fact, the style of galbi with the bones cut short across the length is called “LA Galbi,” as in “Los Angeles-style.” So the “traditional Korean barbecue” is actually a Korean-American dish.
Now, here’s where things get interesting. You see, flanken-cut ribs aren’t actually all that popular in American cooking either. Where they are often used however, is in Mexican cooking, for tablitas.
So you have to imagine these Korean-American immigrants in 1970s Los Angeles getting a hankering for their traditional barbecue. Perhaps they end up going to a corner butcher shop to buy short ribs. Perhaps that butcher shop is owned by a Mexican family. Perhaps they end up buying flanken-cut short ribs for tablitas because that’s what’s available. Perhaps they get slightly weirded out by the way the bones are cut so short, but give it a chance anyway. “Holy crap this is delicious, and you can use the bones as a little handle too, so now galbi is finger food!” Soon, they actually come to prefer the flanken cut over the traditional cut: it’s easier to cook, easier to serve, and delicious, to boot!
Time goes on, Asian fusion becomes popular, and suddenly the flanken cut short rib becomes better known as “Korean BBQ,” when it actually originated as a Korean-Mexican fusion dish!
I don’t know that it actually happened this way, but I like to think it did.
Corned beef and cabbage as we know it today? That came to the Irish immigrants via their Jewish neighbors at kosher delis.
The Irish immigrants almost solely bought their meat from kosher butchers. And what we think of today as Irish corned beef is actually Jewish corned beef thrown into a pot with cabbage and potatoes. The Jewish population in New York City at the time were relatively new immigrants from Eastern and Central Europe. The corned beef they made was from brisket, a kosher cut of meat from the front of the cow. Since brisket is a tougher cut, the salting and cooking processes transformed the meat into the extremely tender, flavorful corned beef we know of today.
The Irish may have been drawn to settling near Jewish neighborhoods and shopping at Jewish butchers because their cultures had many parallels. Both groups were scattered across the globe to escape oppression, had a sacred lost homeland, discriminated against in the US, and had a love for the arts. There was an understanding between the two groups, which was a comfort to the newly arriving immigrants. This relationship can be seen in Irish, Irish-American and Jewish-American folklore. It is not a coincidence that James Joyce made the main character of his masterpiece Ulysses, Leopold Bloom, a man born to Jewish and Irish parents.
Ahh, similar origin to fish and chips in the UK then.
That meal came about either in London or the North of England where Jewish immigrant fried fish venders decided to team up with the Irish cooked potato sellers to produce the meal everyone associates with the UK.
Because while a bunch of stuff from the UK was lifted and adapted from folks we colonised (Mulligatawny soup for example, was an adaptation of a soup recipe found in India and which British chefs tried to approximate back home), some of it was made by folks who actively moved here (like tikka masala, that originated in a restaurant up in Scotland).
Super interesting.
And that’s BEFORE we get into replacing a staple crop! So in the Southern US, you have two groups of people, one who used oats and one who used plantains, and they BOTH replace their staples with corn. And then you get Southern food.
For those interested in a really deep dive on Chinese food in the United States, I cannot over-recommend Jennifer 8 Lee’s Fortune Cookie Chronicles.
these two felines were introduced at 6 weeks old in order to give more enrichment for the lynx and for education purposes, however they got along fantastically from the start and were eventually moved to permanently live with one another.
a much less exciting story, but a much cuter one as well.
<Lisimba> tonyb486: so you're in New York, right? <tonyb486> yep <Lisimba> tonyb486: do you know approximately in what direction Trump is, relative to you? * tonyb486 points roughly 45 degrees to the left of his monitor <tonyb486> I can see 1 world trade center, he is in that general direction <Lisimba> Can you do me a favor and just... flip off in that direction really hard? Like both middle fingers and all. <tonyb486> done <Lisimba> Thanks, that makes me feel a bit better. <tonyb486> any time
tiktok is such an awful app, it’s almost designed to feed you misinformation and expose you to insane discourse. unlike beloved tumblr, the app that feeds me misinformation and exposes me to insane discourse
No, no, no, you see on tiktok an algorithm feeds you misinformation. On Tumblr I feed myself misinformation from my charcuterie board of hand-selected unhinged mutuals.
None of that mass market junk. Only artisanal, small batch, sustainably cultivated, fair trade horseshit.
It’s a lot healthier to go for a daily walk than to sign up for a gym membership you won’t be using because you hate that kind of exercise. It’s a lot healthier to eat a frozen meal than to skip a meal because you were too tired to cook something healthy. It’s a lot healthier to take a quick shower than to procrastinate an elaborate routine for days. Don’t aim so high that you won’t be hitting anything!
this is actually really helpful and affirming thanks
“The entire British museum is an active crime scene” - John Oliver
[image description: two pictures, one above the other. The first image shows a statue originally from the Acropolis in Athens, now in the British Museum. The statue is a column shaped like a woman. It is labelled London. The bottom image is from the Acropolis Museum in Athens, showing the other five matching column/statues, with a space for the missing statue pointedly left open. This picture is shot from above and is labelled Athens.
image in savvysergeant’s reblog: screencap of tags from two people. Feeblekazoo’s tags read: the degree to which the Acropolis museum is designed to shame the British Museum is spectactular. butherlipsarenotmoving’s tags read: the acropolis museum is the most passive aggressive museum i’ve ever been to and i love it
/end id]
For those of you who don’t know museum drama, one of the largest and most famous parts of the British Museum’s collection is the so-called Elgin Marbles, which were looted from the Acropolis by Lord Elgin in the 18th Century. (The Acropolis is the hill in Athens, Greece which has some of the most amazing Greek ruins anywhere, the most famous of which is the Parthenon.) Elgin had (or at least claims to have had) permission from the Ottoman Empire to take stuff home with him, but a) this is one empire asking another empire if they can loot stuff from the other empire’s subjugated people, so, not exactly any moral high ground there Elgin, and b) he took a lot more stuff than the Ottomans said he could have.
Greece has been asking for those statues and sculptures to be returned since they won independence in 1832. That’s right, 1832, 190 years ago. The British Museum has had a number of excuses over the years, one of the biggies of the late 20th Century being “we couldn’t possibly give them back because Athens doesn’t have a nice enough museum to display them” and ignoring Greece’s response of “we will BUILD a museum just for them if you will just give us our damn stuff back!“
Finally, Greece said “fuck you” and built a museum at the bottom of the Acropolis called the Acropolis museum. It is huge, it is gorgeous, the collection of objects is amazing and the educational bits (“this is what it is and why it matters”) are really well done. It’s probably one of the best archaeological museums in the world; it definitely is the best collection of ancient Greek artifacts in the world, both for the size of the collection and the way it’s displayed.
Oh. And it is amazingly passive-aggressive. Every single piece of the Elgin Marbles in the British Museum has an empty spot on display waiting for the piece to be returned to Greece. For example, there are a lot of pieces where Elgin took, say, the nicest (or easiest to remove) one of a set. The column/statue in the OP’s image is one of these. Friezes from the roof of the Parthenon are another example. The Acropolis Museum displays each one of these sets with space for the stolen pieces, along with a picture of what the stolen piece looks like and where it is. It is a giant middle finger at the British Museum, disguised as helpful information.
There’s no chance that the British Museum will return any of this in the next generation. It’s not up to the curators at the British Museum; they don’t get any say in this. The board of governors of the British Museum is made up of old posh English people who genuinely believe that the Empire was awesome and England has a perfect right to everything in the British Museum. They have set policies about what can and can’t be removed from the collection, and according to those policies nothing of any historical or monetary value can be given away or sold. And they actively promote the idea that their predecessors had a perfect right to loot the cultural heritage of the world, and that the museum has a perfect right to keep it forever. The only way to get anything out of the British Museum and back to its rightful place would be to completely replace the entire board of the museum with new people who think completely differently. And that’s not happening any time soon, alas.
By the way, the British argument that Greeks wouldn’t know how to care for the antiquities……. Greece has 206 archaeological museums. It’s not only incredibly demeaning as an argument, it’s also straight out false and misleading.
One thing (and with the massive caveat of I don’t disagree with the above in the slightest): the Board of Trustees isn’t like that. They’re not all white, they’re not all rich, and they’re not all English. By and large they’re academics. I was speaking to them the other week with regards to repatriation when I visited and they’re actually very much all for it (bar one or two exceptions…looking at you George) and are working on things. A group of 5 of them I can confirm actively loathe Elgin and the marbles room. The problem lies with the British Museum Act of 1968 (hereafter referred to as BMA68) which was a law created by the government to prevent anything within the BM, which the government owns but wants very little do to with unless you’re trying to repatriate fyi, being removed in the “national interest”. Repatriation is, annoyingly, illegal in the case of the contents of the BM. So the Board have been trying to change this by putting pressure in various areas to get the laws changed, and the government screws them by enforcing term limits for serving on the board and then trying to stack the board in their favour to prevent further action. It’s a game of politics and the government do not want to give up BMA68 at all.
I know we like to categorise everyone we’re up against in the fight for repatriation as “old, white, rich guys” but it’s not helpful when it is decidedly not the case. We need to be mad at the right people and focusing on efforts to change this ridiculous law. At this time, supporting projects like the International Training Partnership, which is the BM’s way of building a network of curators and training them so organisations like the British Government can’t say “hurr durr they can’t look after their artefacts” because actually they can, we trained them ourselves. The network of curators also allows them to build mounting international pressure. It’s not going to happen overnight, but the pressure is building now, I promise you.
“We need to be mad at the right people” is the crux of SO MANY THINGS
Thank you Lottie, as always.
So the problem isn’t even the people who run the museum, who are after all museum people and want museum things to be done well and respectfully, but the government, who want the museum to remind everyone of the time before they made their entire country a laughingstock.
(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)
DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he’s in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.
MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.
DAVID: Yes.
MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.
DAVID: Exactly.
MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”
And I said, “No.” I mean, this is … what … ‘88? '88, '89. So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books. Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.
DAVID: The kids who’d grown up reading comic books were now making comic books
MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn’t about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.
And so this guy Gary said to me, “Do you read them?” And I said, “No." And he went, "Right, okay, here’s The Watchman[sic] by Alan Moore. Here’s Swamp Thing. Here’s Hellblazer. And here’s Sandman.”
And Sandman was Neil Gaiman’s big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story. And I absolutely loved it.
So I became a big fan of Neil’s, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil’s by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn’t know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.
And then eventually when – I’d done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well’ … weirdly thinking I’m gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”
And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy." Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick. Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.
Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe. Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there’s a card at the top of the box. I open the card.
It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman. And inside the box are first editions of Neil’s stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.
DAVID: You’d never met him?
MICHAEL: Never met him. He’d read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I’d sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …
And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA. And he said, "I’ll take you for a meal.”
I said, “All right.”
He said, “Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”
I said, "Let’s go somewhere interesting.”
He said, “Right, I’m going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump.” And it’s at Santa Monica Airport. And it’s a sushi restaurant.
I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there’s nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you’re watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It’s extraordinary.
And the chef comes out and Neil says, “Just bring us whatever you want. Chef’s choice.”
So, I’d never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.” You know, “This is eel. This is [blah].”
And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn’t say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it … delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.
And we’re sort of getting near the end, and I said, “Neil, I can’t eat anymore. I’m gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can’t eat–”
“Right, okay. We’ll ask for the bill in a minute.”
And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They’ve all got like guns on and stuff.
And me and Neil are like, “What on Earth is going on?”
And then eventually one guy goes, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven’t ordered already, please leave. If you’re still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave.”*
[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]
And we were like, “Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that’s happened?"
We’d finished, so we pay our bill. And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who’s been bringing us this food. And he’s in tears. And he says to Neil, "I’m so sorry.” He apologizes to Neil. And we leave. We have no idea what happened.
DAVID: But you’re assuming it’s the mystery dish.
MICHAEL: Well, we’re assuming that we can’t be going to – we can’t be – it can’t be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can’t be that there’s terrible, terrible things.
So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.
Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.
We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn’t say what it was.
And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.
DAVID: That’s extraordinary.
MICHAEL: And we didn’t find this out for months. So for months, me and Neil were like, “Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything.”
And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we’d eaten whale that night.
DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.
MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, “Have you found the secret compartment?”
I said, “What are you talking about?” It’s such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.
DAVID: Isn’t it?
MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, “I had no idea.” It’s secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.
DAVID: Was there anything inside it?
MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, “Hello!” No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting…
DAVID: Sure. That’s a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.
MICHAEL: That’s how it began. Yeah.
DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.
MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, “You know, I’m working on an adaptation of Good Omens.” And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And…
DAVID: Were you involved at that point?
MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn’t involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.
DAVID: Right.
MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.
And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, “Yeah, of course." I went, "Oh my God.” And he said, “Well, I’ll send you the scripts when they come,” and I would read them, and we’d talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.
But it was always at that point with the idea, because he’d always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, “I don’t think I can play Crowley. I don’t think I’m going to be able to do it.” And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don’t want to tell Neil that I don’t think I can do this.” But I just felt like I don’t think I can play Crowley.
DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].
MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.
DAVID: Sure, sure.
MICHAEL: I can do this.
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: Or I can’t do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don’t think I could do that.”
But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, “Well, he wants me to play Crowley” – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well. And he hadn’t wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, “I think Michael should really play Aziraphale.”
And neither of us would bring it up. And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, “Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way.” And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we’ve got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.
And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.
DAVID: That’s the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn’t he? So he’ll just go, “Oh, yeah, I’ve phoned up Frances McDormand, she’s up for it.” Yeah. You’re, what?
MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil’s stuff.
DAVID: Yes.
MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”
DAVID: Yes.
MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I’m the one who might be fucking it up.”
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.
DAVID: But we have Neil on site.
MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …
DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.
MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn’t it? Yeah. You feel like you’re in safe hands.
DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.
MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.
DAVID: But it was a – it’s been a – it’s been a joy to work with you on it. I can’t wait for the world to see it.
MICHAEL: Oh my God. Oh, well, I mean, it’s the only, I’ve done a few things where there are two people, it’s a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I’ve done it, Amadeus or whatever.
This is the only thing I’ve done where I really don’t think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”. I think of it totally as us.
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: The two of us.
DAVID: Yes.
MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.
DAVID: Yeah.
MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don’t feel like you’re on your own in it. Like it’s totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.
DAVID: Yeah. Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.
MICHAEL: You know, there’s, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there’s another bit from The Wasteland where there’s a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.
And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you’ve got, what you’ve done, how much money you got, all that. Life’s hard. I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.
You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I’ve got older, I’ve realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.
And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what’s meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn’t matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn’t matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you.
Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.
Interesting. It’s a humourous opinion piece by Art Buchwald (once a famous syndicated columnist, now remembered for successfully suing Paramount for the film that became King of Queens, and teaching the world how Hollywood accounting works).
Tweet by John Rogers: “I’m an infamously even-tempered man, but if you take Terry Pratchett’s name in vain for some small-minded bigoted fuckwittery I will push you down a set of fucking stairs and laugh at the bounce.”
ALT
ALT
ALT!['Thank you for the loveliest evening I've ever had...' [normal] '...east of the Mississippi.' [instant intrigue!]](https://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/geographic_qualifiers.png "'Thank you for the loveliest evening I've ever had...' [normal] '...east of the Mississippi.' [instant intrigue!]")
