The 'dumbing down' comment came off as a huge generalisation by an A-grade asshorn. I did not mean that science fiction or fantasy are dumb, far from it. How could I say that? In the words of Han Solo, "Hey, it's me!" In the last two weeks, I have seen two brilliant exponents of the genre. Ex Machina and Mad Max: Fury Road, both of which had my head spinning in different and wonderful ways and are both very grown up films...
The geek shall inherit the Earth, but for now we just dominate popular entertainment. In a world where properties in traditionally "geek" genres have become the heart of billion-dollar franchises, spanning multiple interconnecting mediums and calling back to decades-old source material, it can be hard for new fans to catch up...
Firstly, that while chaos is really very lovely in a coastline or a forest or a cup of tea, I'm not convinced it would be much fun on a global scale. I'd miss Radio 4 and I've got used to the idea that my Co-op always has a ready stock of chutney. Secondly - and far more importantly - I'd be out of a job if I couldn't think up ideas that weren't actually likely to happen.
Joanne Harris is perhaps best-known for her Whitbread-shortlisted novel Chocolat (which was made into an Oscar-nominated film starring Juliette Binoche and Johnny Depp in 2000). While any author would envy the book's success, the title has overshadowed her other work - namely her forays into the fantasy genre.
For many, this is the first official working week of the year. Which sucks. Perhaps you've already been back at work for a week or more? Sucked in. Maybe you're one of those rare people who adore their job, and have been counting down the days until you can get back to work as if it's Christmas. You freak.
We can't afford to look away from this. Our present addiction to gaming and porn is a very serious matter, which needs confronting, just as any other addiction does. Our addictive fantasy world existence is actually hindering our development as a species. It is stunting us all, by suppressing our imaginations.
The first third of Riddick drags like a wet bank holiday Monday, or a party political broadcast in bullet time. Despite being stranded on a planet full of a ravenous dingo-type predators, our hero manages to fend them off, pinches one of the cubs/puppies (reminiscent of Scrappy-Doo in the Scooby-Doo live-action version), and clashes with assorted scorpion-like beasts.
One day, books will be like antiques. A standard paperback will cost hundreds of pounds depending on the year and edition. War and Peace will be out of print. And I will be an old lady with only dreams of ghosts of cats, telling the illiterate kids on the block how these same streets were once paved in books, each one costing less than a halfpenny.