Unicorn

Whovianism

Not for me the average English student's role of highlighting, pen-chewing and regurgitating old ideas: my study of Wuthering Heights has engendered a new, cutting-edge school of literary criticism.

Yes, it's controversial. But so was feminism. So was post-colonialism. So is literature itself.

As far as I'm concerned, my theory is foolproof. Think about it: the Doctor has a TARDIS. So he can travel in time and space to wherever, whenever a novel is set. The Doctor can regenerate, and each time he does so he looks different.

So now of course you're burning to know where he fits in in Wuthering Heights. Here's your answer:

Yes, it's a controversial view, I'm aware - but supported by a wealth of incontrovertible evidence:

• Heathcliff doesn't want Lockwood to sleep in the the oak-paneled bed - this is obviously because it is the TARDIS
• Cathy is the Doctor's companion, which explains their strong relationship
• When Cathy goes mad it is because she has looked into the time vortex
• "Oh! my heart's darling" - in this quote Bronte's editors evidently changed the positioning of the apostrophe. Heathcliff has two hearts, which is why he is so passionate
• When Cathy and Heathcliff are both dead, they are spotted rambling the moors together: this is because he has regenerated and she was merely stuck in a parallel universe
• Heathcliff's background is mysterious. Why? Because he's a Time Lord.

All that's left now is to look at the range of characters throughout literature who are also a 900-odd-year-old alien. Because I can't be bothered to think of them all, I'll give you a few to start you off, and then you're on your own...

• Fagin - don't you think his dress sense is like Tom Baker's?
• Mr Rochester - process of elimination, all the other men in Jane Eyre are losers
• Dumbledore - because he's a big-hearted genius who reappears after his death (again, regeneration)
• Rhett Butler - rakishly handsome (David Tennant) and way ahead of his time (time machine)
• Edward Cullen - because he's sparkly.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

…I made you some Christmas cards! OK, well, I didn’t make them for you (I don’t even know who you are), but you can still look at them and admire them and wish you’d created something as fabulous as them.

Yes, they’re wonderful, I know. I think I actually have a lucrative career in snowman-drawing ahead of me.

Anyway, happy Christmas. Have a present.

Hooray, it’s what you’ve always wanted!

Happy Birthday to me!

I am pleased to inform my loyal followers (all ten of them) that I am now aged sixteen years, ten days and nine hours. This means that several exciting things happen:

	I get a national insurance number
	I can get married
	I can get a civil partnership
	I can drive a moped
	I get presents

Clearly one of these has more immediate benefits…

…number three (tee hee, you thought I was going to say presents. Shame on you. Material wealth is nothing to me). I’m currently conducting a screening process for prospective partners, email me if interested. A fine family seat, steady income and amiable disposition are non-negotiable requirements.

Actually, that was just a joke…

…presents are great (tee hee, you thought I was going to say I’m not getting a civil partnership. People these days are so cynical). Particularly one from my lovely friend, who decided to give me:

Practically the brilliantest present I’ve ever been given. But honestly, I’m still planning the civil partnership (maybe match.com would be a good starting point?)

The Llama of Truth and Freedom

With all my exams and stuff, it's absolutely essential that I stop mucking around concentrate on sensible things such as revision and sleeping. This I have been trying to do, and, I’m sure you’ll agree, succeeding to the highest degree. Enter the llama…

A general update for those who have missed me

My, how much has happened since my last post. Not, of course, that Wolves of the Sea didn’t have its metaphorical finger on the cultural pulse, last week’s Eurovision Song Contest being a phenomenal work of musical genius the likes of which can be matched only (and even then just barely) by the wonders of Rebecca Black’s “Friday”.

What else? … of course, there was the royal wedding, a time of jubilation throughout the land whilst the government blew millions on the happy union of a balding toff and a “commoner” with enough gleaming tresses for the two of them. I launched into the festivities with gusto and have recently finished knitting my very own Wills and Kate, complete with a fully accurate rendition of Kate’s iconic gown as designed by Sarah Burton of Alexander McQueen (“YAY!” squeaked the commentator, with suave professionalism, later adding, “This is such a fashion moment.”)

There is always the possibility that I will improve Wills’ jacket by adding gold stuff and buttons, but, then again, there is the very real possibility that I won’t. The other important thing I’ve forgotten is, of course, Kate’s engagement ring.

I have great tidings: more posts are coming! More posts! So stay tuned for a fabulous fashion competition and some droplets of wisdom from a somewhat unlikely source… (oooh, mysterious…)

Wolves of the Sea: a Pirate-Themed Eurovision Musical

My school are about to take part in a Spanish exchange, and in order to keep the Spanish people entertained my headteacher wants me to write a play for them. I decided that the best way to achieve this is by drawing on something our two great nations have in common: the mighty force that is Eurovision.

Meticulously planned, but unfortunately too complicated for students who hardly speak any English, this is an idea which is unlikely to come to fruition unless Andrew Lloyd Webber happens to be reading this. Do feel free to skip around in the songs if you’re not quite up to watching them all the way through.

The play opens on a pirate ship, tossed upon treacherous waters, bound for land and the distant kingdom of, um, Biscuitland (I'd sail there too if I had a ship, actually). The crew are a boisterous yet loveable bunch with most of the right character archetypes. A suitably boisterous opening number thus begins.

The video was just Latvians pretending to be pirates, but you get the idea: here's the real pirate crew in all their glory. Well, there'll be a chorus of backing dancers as well, but they don't actually have names or anything and I couldn't be bothered to draw them. The main pirates, anyway, are, from left:

• Graham the disabled pirate - comic relief and dispenser of wisdom, both rolled into one. He's weathered some rough times, but his bobble hat has seen him through them all.
• The Captain - nobody knows his real name. Or, for that matter, what his forehead looks like.
• Rodolfo - our hero. Rodolfo is brave, noble, dashing and something of a pyromaniac: everything a hero should be, in short. He is a legend, an inspiration to pirates everywhere. But somewhere, deep inside himself, he yearns for something more.
• Chiara - token female pirate for PC reasons. Obesity gives her the added bonus of being funny as well. Chiara is hopelessly in love with Rodolfo, which she manages to convey subtly through the following song, after a couple of painful jokes in between. (Remember to imagine the singer as about twelve times fatter, and the men in the glass boxes - or at least the ones who would still be visible - as pirates.)

The ship, meanwhile, reaches Biscuitland, and a bout of good-natured raping and pillaging ensues to a reprise of 'Wolves of the Sea'. During this time, Rodolfo encounters Princess Lara of Biscuitland, gamely defending her shores alongside the villagers by flapping a handkerchief or something. Lara and Rodolfo immediately fall in love and sing the perspex piano song.

 

This song also serves to develop the pyromaniac side of Rodolfo's character.

So anyway, there's swooning and a double-ended perspex piano, and then some of the pirate backing dancers grab Princess Lara and whisk her off as a hostage to the pirate ship. Which goes to show that it's really quite stupid to wear a frilly dress and a crown when you're trying to muck in with the commoners and get rid of some devious and extremely greedy pirates.

Now Rodolfo reaches a major moral dilemma. What should he do? Should he let the others cut off little pieces of Lara and send them one by one to her father to remind him to pay the ransom? Should he do it himself? Should he sing the most amazing song in Eurovision history with the aid of some pirate backing dancers?

Rodolfo writhes in the torment of his soul for a bit, then comes to the conclusion that love conquers all etc. and he must use his considerable piratey powers to save Lara. Enter the Chiki Chiki - Rodolfo's almost supernatural ability to irritate his victims into submission, the source of all his strength, all his notoriety (it should be noted at this point that throughout the play, the mention of the Chiki Chiki is met with a highly exaggerated swoon from everyone onstage and a cry of "Not the Chiki Chiki!").

Lara is rescued. She and Rodolfo escape back to Biscuitland, where her overbearing father decides to to hold a ball in honour of her return. To the ball he invites young men from all over the country, with the intent that one of them might win the hand of the beautiful Princess Lara.

Lara happily invites Rodolfo to the ball, hoping that it’ll give him a chance to meet her parents. She leaves him with a single injunction:

He has left his old ways behind, and must no longer use his powers of irritation. A reasonable request? You would think…

At the start of the ball, however, Lara is accosted by the horrific Lord Flobbish McFishity Bathroom-Cleaner of Soapscum, who, of course, serenades her with the heartrendingly romantic ‘Miss Kiss Kiss Bang’.

 

Poor Lara! Scarred for life, she turns to the one person she can trust, the one person she knows will be there for her always. But the music is going and Rodolfo just can’t hold out any longer. (I found a nice pirate version of the Chiki Chiki for you)

Lara has been betrayed. Rodolfo was her soulmate, a single point of hope in a dark and treacherous world (treacherous: as illustrated by Flobbish, found mere hours after the end of the play drowning his sorrows in the ampleness of Chiara. I digress.) She issued to him a sole request, providing him, needless to say, with a prime opportunity of proving his love for her – but he ignored it.

Awash with sorrow, she performs a tearjerking rendition of “Algo Pequeñito”, a song about love, loss and apologising. As far as I can make out, anyway. My Spanish isn’t that great.

N.B. this song is accompanied by a similar dance to the original, not for any particular benefit to the narrative but because I quite like the whole creepy-doll type thing. Naturally the stage invasion will be included, perpetrated by Flobbish, who has not at this stage given up hope of winning Lara’s hand.

In response, Rodolfo sings “I’m in Love with a Fairytale”, which is appropriate because Lara is a fairytale princess. And (intent on challenging the pirate stereotype) he plays the violin! Who would have thought it? Note that in this video several strings on the singer/violinist bow end up snapping, creating an endearing I’m-a-bit-crap-at-this-really-aren’t-I? effect. This will definitely be included.

This heartfelt profession of love from Rodolfo turns out to be exactly the algo pequeñito Lara was looking for. Thus follows a joyous reunion, as Lara admits that actually the Chiki Chiki is pretty cool. The grand finale is everybody singing the Chiki Chiki. You’re probably getting a bit bored of the Chiki Chiki by now, so I put a teletubbies version just to keep you on your toes.