Sunday, 11 November 2007

The Golden Compass

2nd December 2007

I've been having huge problems with this - and while trying to fix them, somehow wiped the post. Then I realized the fault was almost certainly with one of my computers that a neighbour has been repairing, which is still in a transitory state.

So my thoughts on Philip Pullman and the film are lost in the ether...

And they seem to think my name is Undefined. Which it isn't.



  1. Mine's a tiger called Anexa, which I thought rather wonderful (I briefly blogged about it a little while ago:

    I'd be more than happy with a wolf, mind...


  2. Mine came out to be an armchair.

    I'm going to try real hard not to think about that today.

  3. Alan, you do make me laugh.

    (Thinks: it must have castors, so it can follow him about - but what about stairs? Every time he went upstairs, there'd be a distressed armchair below, pawing the ground and getting in the way...)

  4. Actually, the damned thing seems to think it should perch on my shoulder and the experience is becoming just a little bit wearisome.

    I did something similar where one answers a series of questions to find out what type of automobile one would be if one were an automobile, which seemed a little far fetched considering the basic construction differences betwixt a human and a car, but I played along. The friend who forwarded the survey to me was an Audi TT, and deservedly so, I am sure.

    I, however, was assigned the AMC Pacer as my mechanical kindred spirit and it has taken a toll, self-esteem wise, ever since.

  5. I've looked up the AMC Pacer and I do see what you mean.

    I shouldn't be here, but the ABNA notification of whether one has qualified comes through today, so I've been hanging around.

    The ABNA forum is a frenzy of anxiety and alcohol.


  6. You don't have any driving in your near future, do you? If so, I will call you one of those famous London cabs.

    I did the actual Golden Compass quiz thingie and came up a gibbon.

    I suppose that is okay except I'm not sure if they have vividly colorful butts like some baboons. One can only hope.

  7. No driving, I'm weaving home on the bike, so that's okay.

    I expect you were being too modest. Other friends have come up with a fox and an osprey. You should try again with a chum beside you saying, 'No, no, of course you're a leader, move the slider thingy to the right!'

    Must get a grip and go home thwarted.

  8. Heck, I'm happy with a gibbon. Not the best looking critter around, but I take comfort in the fact it is a primate and, as far as I know, does not eat its young or vote Republican.

    A young lady who works for me was designated a honeybee. I thought that was kind of cool, she wasn't very happy.

  9. A honeybee...means she's a good worker? Likes stripey jumpers? Hums?

  10. She is a good worker who prefers executing projects over selling. It means she doesn't make as much money as she could, but it also means the store runs a lot smoother because of her. Wouldn't trade her for the world. And yes, come to think of it, she does hum every once in a while.

    Only real fault this honeybee has, at least as far as working with me goes, is an unaccountable love of Christmas music. She could listen to the blasted stuff year round. I have our music systems set up with iPods loaded with about 700 songs, almost one third of which are holiday tunes. Gives us a tolerable mix for the first three or four weeks of November. She invariably sets them all to the Holiday playlist at the beginning of her shifts. Drives me nuts and she knows it.

    Okay, maybe I would trade her.

  11. Now I have an image of a bee with glittery stripes and a little red Santa hat with a white bobble on its head.

    Singing along to 'White Christmas'.

    I particularly dislike 'Have yourself a merry little Christmas' for its patronizing tone.

  12. The one good version of that song is when Judy Garland sings it to Margaret Something or Other, who plays Judy's kid sister in the movie "Meet Me in St. Louis".

    Off to work.

    Which doesn't mean I won't be looking at the site whenever I get a chance to pop into the cubbyhole that is my office. Business has been, shall we say, SLOW.

  13. Lexi
    It was me who changed you to a butterfly. I think that's good - very pretty

  14. Hi Debbie!

    I think ALL the daemons must be quite flattering (don't know about Alan's gibbbon).

    Glad you've sussed how to leave a comment.

    Now write a book and join YWO...

  15. Hang on - you've turned my daemon back into a wolf! Good, I'm feeling wolfish today.

    I've googled Archeleron, and apart from being a character in a war game, he appears to be two-timing me by being a lot of other people's daemon too.


    No wonder I've never seen him in the workshop. He's moonlighting elsewhere.

  16. Mine is Eutropia, a female lion. Who knew? My pride is showing.

    Archeleron is the one I supposed matched you. But then, we've not yet met formally.

  17. Eutropia, like the wife of Emperor Maximian...

    Are you going to put it on your blog, so I can try to change it to something tree-related?

    A jaguar, sloth or squirrel?

  18. I had no idea that I could change your daemon. That is taboo if I heard the announcer correctly. A thousand "pardons" madame (if you do not loke "madame" would "siress" work?).

  19. Last time I looked my sister had turned it into a butterfly. Now it's a wolf again.

    'Siress' is a bit like 'chappess'; not too good. 'Laddette' and WAG work, though I wouldn't want to be called either.

    I definitely don't like being referred to by my surname. Ages ago I was interviewed by the Guardian, and they called me 'Dick' throughout. Grrr.

  20. I see you are now a spotty leopard. Coincidence?


    Own up!

    I can't turn my back on this blog for a minute without some unfamiliar animal strolling in and saying he's my new daemon.

    I'd just got used to the butterfly, when he went back to being a wolf. Now it's a snow leopard!