Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 18 - 1984

"Tuesday evening, after tea and compulsory prayers, the last mouse on Earth tried to hide from mankind inside the machine"...

1984:

The trivia:

• Walt Disney's Donald Duck became part of the U.S. army war effort back in 1942, in the cartoon "Donald Gets Drafted". He then appeared in a number of short features during World War II, including "Commando Duck" where he was parachuted in to the Pacific Theatre to fight against the Japanese. However he never officially left the army, so by his fiftieth birthday in 1984 - when he had been serving for over forty years - the military arranged a full parade and sent a four star general to simultaneously promote Donald to "Buck Sergeant" and grant him official retirement.

• In the 1980s, the Nevada Test Site became a focal point for organised vigils, marches and protests, due to growing concerns about the dangers of nuclear war. Among those joining the demonstrations were two unlikely compatriots - scientist and astronomer (and personal hero) Carl Sagan, and actor Martin Sheen. Sagan had long warned of the catastrophic consequences of nuclear conflict. Sheen, meanwhile, was already known for his activism and willingness to risk imprisonment for causes he believed in. Together, they (and others) climbed a chain‑link fence at the site, an act that led to their arrest and shared time in jail.

• By the mid‑1980s, ice cream was already a staple of American life, with consumption among the highest in the world. In July of 1984 President Ronald Reagan delighted sweet-toothed Americans everywhere when he called ice cream "a nutritious and wholesome food" and established National Ice Cream Month.  It has been celebrated ever since, with multiple events taking place across the country. 

The memory:

Deus Ex Machina

By 1984, the Sinclair ZX Spectrum was *the* home computer of choice (at least in the UK). Yes it only had 48K memory and could only display 256 colours, but as I have mentioned previously, those limitations helped produce some of the most innovative and ground breaking games ever made. Anyone and everyone could become a programmer, create a software company and enter the big time with a release that took the enthusiastic community by storm. Games could be (and frequently were) about anything.

At the forefront of this innovation was "Automata UK". Established in 1977 as one of, if not the first ever British video games company, It was run by the guru's guru Mel Croucher (Robert Rankin's Hugo Rune has nothing on this guy), aided by his long time collaborator and programmer Christian Penfold. Automata were pioneers in self-distributed, resolutely non-violent games on the black and white ZX-81. However it was with the release of "PiMania" in 1982 that they really took off.

An electronic take on the famous "Masquerade" book from the late 70s by Kit Williams, "PiMania" was billed as the first ever real life treasure hunt computer game. Hidden somewhere in the UK was a golden sundial worth £6,000 - yours if you could figure out the incredibly cryptic clues hidden within the game. A surreal text and graphics adventure full of lateral thinking puzzles and starring Piman, the company's pink, huge-nosed  mascot , it was launched in a flurry of publicity on several different platforms but it's fair to say that the ZX Spectrum version was the most popular. 

Making the most of the fact that the "PiMania"was loaded from a cassette tape, Automata UK bundled it with a B-side - a bizarre yet hilarious song of the same name with music and lyrics by Croucher which sounded like it was composed with a Bon Tempi organ and a kazoo. He was like an 8-bit Frank Zappa or Neil Innes. I loved it.

A second prize game followed in 1983 - "My Name Is Uncle Groucho, You Win A Fat Cigar" - along with another song. By now Automata UK had taking over the back page of "Popular Computing Weekly" (PCW). Starting off as standard if anarchic adverts, the page then began to feature the comic strip adventures of Piman and his cast of supporting characters drawn by the brilliant Robin Evans. Gradually over the months the strip took over and for many (like me) it was the main reason we brought the mostly text based magazine. The team also became regular fixtures at the Alexandra Palace computer fairs, holding court from a large stand with Croucher as Uncle Groucho and Penfold cavorting round in his frankly creepy looking pink Piman costume. It was part sales pitch, part entertainment show and the crowds lapped it up.

I guess that if Croucher was a visionary leader and innovator, you could say that my brother, friends and I were his"acolytes". We had become quite friendly with him and were warmly welcomed when we turned up at the 'Ally Pally' Microfairs. At one point my brother created a stuffed soft toy version of Piman, and for several years it sat in the front window of the Automata UK shop in Portsmouth like some deformed hairless Bagpuss. There's a picture of it somewhere on the internet.

Branching out using other external programmers, Automata UK released a whole series of "Pi" themed games, each with their own musical b-sides. A full album compilation of the expanding catalogue were produced on cassette, and I still have it (and the sequel) to this day. Songs such as "Donkey Hotay","Leader of the Pac" and "Piballed Blues"  became our soundtrack as we indulged in long hours of gameplay.

Then in 1984 via the PCW back page, the company announced that they would be producing a game unlike any other - their magnum opus - "Deus Ex Machina". It was Crouchers' personal project in conjunction with wunderkind programmer Andrew Stagg  - the culmination of his journey to produce a unique integrated multimedia blend of music, graphics and gaming, pushing the boundaries of the humble ZX Spectrum to their limit. Along with the game cassette would come a complete synchronised musical sound-track featuring voice-overs and singing from Croucher, along with Donna Bailey, Ian "Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick" Dury, comedian Frankie Howerd, and most excitingly, former "Doctor Who" Jon Pertwee. 

Sold for the price of £15 (high for the time, when most games were between £5 and £10), this was not so much a game as an event, and was trumpeted as being the next big thing - as important as the first graphical adventure game of "The Hobbit" that had defined the ZX Spectrum's early years. Naturally when it was launched we all went along to the next Microfair and shook Mel by the hand, and parted with our cash, taking home the huge plastic case with it's double cassettes, poster and complete set of lyrics. We couldn't wait to get home and start the adventure.

Inserting the first side of the game into our trusty tape players (with the volume set *just right* so that we would not get the dreaded "Tape Loading Error") we watched as the introductory graphics appeared complete with 8-bit representations of the key performers (unfortunately Mr. Pertwee's name was spelt wrong as "John", which was slightly amusing. (it was correct in the end credits). Then having begun to listen to side one of the music tape, we were kindly told by the Third Doctor "I want you to pause after I count you down and recommence playing at the screens request...". A similar countdown was initiated on screen. This insured that the soundtrack was (mostly) in sync with the graphics on screen. Thus the story begun...

In a Big Brother-esque 1994, players had to take part in the epic life story of an accidentally created artificial life form and guide it from birth to death via a series of connected mini-games, loosely based on Shakespeare's 'Seven Ages Of Man'. Pertwee was the narrator and guide, Howerd played the part of the authoritarian Defect Police - out to stop the creature -  and Dury the initial sperm that becomes the lifeform.(there's nothing quite like hearing Ian Dury uttering the immortal line "Wotcha cock! I'm a fertilising agent...my brothers are all wriggly.") Each of the stages required you to perform some kind of action to move yourself (the 'accident') through your life cycle and to keep your percentage score (the "degree of ideal entity") as high as possible. Success raised the score but mistakes cost you percentage points.Lets take a detailed look at the main sequences...

You begin by helping the machine create a baby through a series of repeated cursor touches - manipulating DNA helix's and keeping them spinning in the void, nurturing the early cells and allowing the machine to steal an egg before bringing it together with a spermatozoa  All the while the Defect Police are out to get you and stop the aberration before it can be born.

"At first the infant, mewling in the test tube's neck..."

The embryo lives. You protect it by keeping the outer cocoon intact before the baby is released spinning from the Incubator.The eyes of the Defect Police are watching and capture is unavoidable, but as it has been born with powers of telepathy and telekinesis, you can help this new life deflect the physic probes.

"Then the whining school child, with cassette and shining morning face. Creeping like a snail unwittingly to databank..."

This imprisoned spinning form grows from child into man as the voice of Donna Bailey sings. Using it's mental powers the defect absorbs information and learns. To start with it is innocent and loving but as time goes on it is corrupted and becomes cruel and hurtful. Part one end as an electronic eye sheds a single tear.

"And then the lover, sighing like a furnace, with a woeful video made to their lover's hologram"

As part two begins, the voice of Jon Pertwee has changed. Now it is authoritative and commanding. The noise of battle echoes in the background of the Overlevels. It's time for war. The fully grown lifeform follows the orders of the Defect Police and runs across a desolate landscape. Players have to take control by jumping over chasms and deflecting weapons and walls of fire. The soundtrack to this element brings to the fore Croucher's strong personal views about the evil of violent computer games. Ian Dury and Frankie Howerd verbally spar in rhyme as another battle ensues for the conscience of the soldier. Does you blindly follow orders or resist and rise up against your oppressors?

"Then a soldier, full of strange oaths. Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking hi-score, even in the laser's mouth"

Ultimately the Defect Police are defeated and you now rules the Overlevels. But life goes on and as you becomes older and more corpulent, you must make the right decisions by jumping over the good things and stamping evil out underfoot. Every false move means a part of the empire collapses in the distance and the Machine begins to regret ever having made you.

"And then the Justice, in fair round belly and eyes severe and clothes of format cut, full of wise words and machine code..."

As old age approaches and life reaches it's sunset, all the player can do is trace the line of the heartbeat and try and disperse the clots that float through your bloodstream...

"The Sixth Age shifts into the lean and skippered pantaloon..."

Life ends and the Machine takes you home. But the end is the beginning . Your life is expressed as a percentage score. Imagine if this was nothing but an electronic game, and you could begin your little life all over again...

"Last scene of all, the ends this strange eventful history is Second Childishness and mere oblivion. Without keyboard, without monitor, without power supply"

All told, its close to an hour of gameplay and soundtrack. If you want to see the full effect of the audio and visuals, there is a complete playthrough on You Tube:

Okay, so clearly looking back now from our modern shiny CGI, 4K, photo realistic graphics world, that all looks incredibly primitive and probably quite dull - and yes, I'll admit that it's not the most rewarding game to play. But the point is that the player interaction wasn't the thing  - it was the truly original combination of electronic music, poetry, dystopian lyrics and unusual visuals. "Deus Ex Machina" was as much avant garde  / prog rock concept album /  art installation as game - something you experienced as well as participated in. The soundtrack could be listened to in it's own right - in fact it was never off my Walkman - and was full of great performances, humour and subtle digs at the establishment.

Donna Bailey is a revelation and both Dury and Howerd perform their parts well. But as the Storyteller, Pertwee really seems to get into the spirit of things and enjoy himself (this is even after he had apparently fallen off his motorcycle on the way to the recording studio!). He and Croucher became good friends from this project and later released a comedy quiz book together.

I make no secret of the fact that I am very biased in favour of Mel Croucher's output and his extraordinary vision. The title of this very blog is named in honour of some of his magazine columns. However as much as I loved "Deus Ex Machina", it failed terribly. It gathered good reviews and won an industry award as program of the year, but sales were beyond awful. Part of this is due to the fact that many casual gamers just didn't "get" it, having been conditioned on a diet of "Jet Set Willy" and "Knightlore" which were technically more polished and more playable - and they were being asked to pay £15 for an hour or so's "experience" - far higher than they could buy games for from WH Smith.

But more importantly Automata UK were sadly a victim of the success of the UK gaming industry. With titles being more and more sold in high street stores as retailers wanted a piece of the mail-order / Microfair turnover, large distribution companies got in on the act and *they* got to set the price points and choose which titles were allowed onto shelves. As a little company trying to take their puck rock attitude and buck the trend, Mel and Co were doomed to fail.

Automata UK never really recovered from the losses of "Deus Ex Machina" and Croucher walked away in 1985. The UK computer industry had probably disillusioned him, but it was a sad loss. It would be years before he stepped back into the arena in any major way - although he did write dozens of columns for industry magazines. He also managed a number of media companies with both corporate and celebrity clients. But in 2012, he launched a new version of the company "Automata Source Ltd" and successfully crowd-funded "Deus Ex Machina 2" featuring the voice of the legendary Christopher Lee. Even decades years later Mel is still innovating, still creating and still producing great music. This post is dedicated to him, with huge thanks for the years of fun and laughter.

Honourable mentions:

• CRASH - no post relating to the ZX Spectrum can pass without mentioning the most popular computing magazine of the day - at one point selling over 100,000 copies a month. CRASH was known for the distinctive cover art by Oliver Frey, who also contributed to the "Terminal Man " comic strip inside. Full of irrereverant news, reviews, playing tips and cheats, it developed a unique style and became the go-to source if you wanted to know anything about Spectrum games. I had almost every issue. The physical copies are all long gone of course, but thankfully much of the contents is now available online. In more recent years, Fusion Retro Books have become the custodians of Oliver Frey's artwork, and  have been publishing new editions of CRASH.

• Sherlock Holmes - The definitive period version of the world-famous detective. Benedict Cumberbatch may have won tons of awards but for many Jeremy Brett *is* Holmes in a way that has not been bettered before or since. Across 36 episodes and 5 feature length specials, Brett and his two Watson's (David Burke for series 1 and Edward Hardwicke thereafter) starred in the most faithful adaptations of Arthur Conan Doyle's stories - praised for their high production values and attention to detail. I had become a fan of the original adventures when I read the complete works a few years earlier and my whole family never missed an episode. It still stands up today as a high watermark in television drama.

• The Saga of the Swamp Thing - Okay, so this title had been running since 1982 and featured some sterling work from writer Martin Pasko and various artists, but we all know that it was when Alan Moore took over from issue 20 (and particularly #21's "The Anatomy Lesson") that everything moved onto a whole new level. Moore was relatively unknown in the U.S. and was given free rein to revamp the title to save it from cancellation. The rest is comic book history. There have been millions of words written about the importance of Moore's stint on the title so I don't intend to repeat them here, but it did usher in a new maturity for mainstream comics and paved the way for the "Vertigo" imprint. I'm slightly ashamed to say that I didn't start picking up the comic until issue 28 on the strong recommendation from my local comic shop owner and had to scrabble around for many months finding the back issues as prices started to soar.

• Robin of Sherwood - Written by Richard "Kip" Carpenter, whose work I had previously enjoyed on "Catweazle" and "Dick Turpin", this is another example of a TV interpretation  which has yet to be bettered. Combing authentic production design and real locations (so you felt that the outlaws really did live in a forest) with genuine history and elements of pagan myths, I lapped up this series, as it appealed to my love of both classical heroes and fantasy. Michael Praed was a perfect Robin of Loxley and his not so merry men were also well cast. The addition of Nasir the Saracen has had such an influence that it now seems to have always been part of the legend. However let's not talk about season three. As far as I am concerned Robin dies at the end of "The Greatest Enemy"...

• Mage: The Hero Discovered - The first part of writer / artist Matt Wagner's epic trilogy of the life of Kevin Matchstick, wielder of an enchanted baseball bat that turns out to be Excalibur. Part examination of the power of myth, part autobiographical allegory and a whole lot of fun, I loved the lush artwork and somewhat humorous take on the Arthurian legend (not to mention the triple gatefold panorama in the final issue). It took until 1997 for the second chapter "The Hero Defined" to appear and the final part, "The Hero Denied" finally arrived in 2017. Oh and that black T-shirt with the white lightning bolt that Kevin Matchstick wears? I had one of those and wore it proudly for years.

Frankie Goes To Hollywood - If one band came to define the mid-80s for me it was "Frankie". Hugely successful  - especially after lead single "Relax" was banned by the BBC leading to it hitting the number one spot for five weeks - hugely influential, and more than a little racy, the provocative nature of their singles and first album meant that the country (and I) became obsessed with everything they released. "Frankie Says..." T-shirts were everywhere. They became only the second act in the history of the UK charts to reach number one with their first three singles. Even now I still think that "Two Tribes" (and it's multiple remixes) is one of the best records ever made. It became a ritual to go to my local "Golden Disc" record shop every Thursday lunchtime to pick up the latest 12", and when the double album "Welcome To The Pleasuredome" (with a cover you  really couldn't show your mother) was first on sale, the queue was out the door. I bought everything, in every format - including the rare picture discs and trust me, those are one of the few pieces of vinyl I'll never throw out. Alas, the follow up album "Liverpool" was a disappointment (I personally liked "Rage Hard" bit not much else) and by 1987 after internal disputes the band was no more. A real shame.

We're All Stories In The End 18 - Damaged Goods

A very famous name gets his first shot at a Doctor Who story....

Damaged Goods by Russell T Davies

Seventh Doctor Adventures number: 55

Originally published: October 1996

Companions: Roz & Chris

"Wherever this cocaine has travelled, it hasn't gone alone. Death has been its attendant. Death in a remarkably violent and inelegant form."

The Seventh Doctor, Chris and Roz, arrive at the Quadrant, a troubled council block in Thatcher's Britain. There's a new drug on the streets, a drug that's killing to a plan. Somehow, the very ordinary people of the Quadrant are involved. And so, amidst the growing chaos, a bizarre trio moves into number 43.

The year is 1987: a dead drug dealer has risen from the grave, and an ancient weapon is concealed beneath human tragedy. But the Doctor soon discovers that the things people do for their children can be every bit as deadly as any alien menace - as he uncovers the link between a special child, an obsessive woman, and a desperate bargain made one dark Christmas Eve.    

                                         

So this is one of the important ones. The only 'New Adventure' by Russell The Davies - the big man himself.

This is a Russell who is post 'Dark Seasons' but before 'The Grand' - and crucially before he became a household name for edgy, provocative, and astonishing drama with 'Queer as Folk'. This is a man who has *loved* Doctor Who since forever - and probably, for 1996, this may have been his dream gig. So what does the future showrunner have to say ? And are the seeds of his vision for the TV show planted here ?

Well, yes,… and no.

So we get a family of Tylers. An inner city housing estate. A loud mother. Broken relationships. A huge set piece finale with an alien creature stomping through the city. There is kitchen sink drama, a large cast of well rounded down-to-earth characters, and the Doctor being in as alien an environment as any exotic planet.

So far, so New Series then.

I've talked a lot before in these reviews about supporting characters - and how a good author can make you care and a…"less good" one makes them utterly forgettable. And as you would expect from Russell's other works, he's one of the former.

Every person lives and breathes on the page. The man can write *great* characters. There simply isn't a single badly written one in the whole book. Ordinary people can be just as desperate and flawed and unpleasant and monstrous as any alien menace - and Russell knows this. He also knows the love a mother has for her children. And the power of friendship. How we hide things, even from ourselves. And how the best of intentions can have unforeseen consequences.

It's wonderful storytelling.

But, beneath the humour and the bickering and the struggles of everyday life in 'The Quadrant', there is an all pervasive sense of dread. Of things waiting. Or terror and violence just around the corner. It oozes from the page. Every character is subliminally aware of it. 

And you'd better not get too attached to any of those characters - because the body count in this book is off the charts.

Boy this a bleak and grim and bloody story. We get prostitution. And drugs. And violence. And self harm. And not buckets but frankly *swimming pools* of gore. And sadly, death.

This is Doctor Who with the gloves well and truly off. An 18 rated version, where a man sets fire to himself, someone is cut in half diagonally and anothers head falls off. Where a commuter train crashes and thousands die - with more ripped apart by the "monster".

All that, and the suggestion that  the Doctor's male companions gets (at the very least) a blowjob in the back of a car. 

Oh and lest I forget - the Doctor shoots someone point blank in the face.

Frankly, I didn’t need all of that stuff. The human story was compelling enough without the blood-soaked shocks. 

I'm not sure we even needed the super-weapon from Gallifrey's past war against the vampires in the mix either - I'd have just been happy if it had been a story about telepathic separated twins and the anguish that caused.

Eva Jericho was enough of a villain. Driven to buy things to fill the void in her life, including someone else's child -  and driven mad by the reanimated calcified corpse of her own lost baby. It was both terrifying and heart-breaking. Especially when you realised that her delusions all stemmed from something so small in her childhood.

Certainly the speedy finale, with it's Quadrant smashing and the bait-and switch of who was in control of the N-Form, felt a bit like there had to be spectacle just for the sake of it.

Amongst the carnage it was the little things I enjoyed most:

• The difficult relationship between Harry and David.

• RTD's seeming obsession with cramming in as many 80s references as possible, from Neil Tennant to Wogan, Why Don’t You' , Mortan Harket and 2000 AD.

• The mention of Marie's Crisis Café in New York with it's musical singalongs. Check out Overtures in Soho for the UK equivalent.

• Roz's realisation that you never really leave the Doctor.

• Chris thinking that a "friend of Dorothy" meant that Ace might be appearing!

• Lines like "the voice of a man standing at the heart of an empty cathedral".

Don’t get me wrong - it's a great book. It's a superbly written tragedy wrapped up in a science fiction overcoat. Just like RTD's later works, it's full of heart and passion  - and maybe a bit of an overblown ending.

You wanted stories' too broad and deep for the small screen' ?

You can't deny this is certainly a prime example, even if personally I wish it had been toned down just a bit.

Let's not mention those epilogues though, eh ?

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 17 - 1983

Something more unusual this time round, as a single album track mixing progressive electronica with a world famous poem is my pick of the year....

1983:

The trivia:

• Commercial peat-cutters were working in the Lindow Moss bog in Cheshire, England when they discovered a partial skull fragment with remnants of hair, soft tissue, brain matter and an eye attached.When the police launched a murder investigation, one man came forward. Long suspected of the death of his wife in 1960, Peter Reyn-Bardt thought it was her body that had been found, so confessed to the crime. When later carbon-dating testing revealed that it was actually from a body over a thousand years old, he tried to revoke his confession, but ultimately was still convicted and imprisoned.

• In the early 1980s, iconoclastic musician Frank Zappa sketched out a business plan for the storage and distribution of music via computer networks. His idea was simple but radical - fans could subscribe to a central catalogue service that allowed them to download high-quality digital albums directly - bypassing traditional record stores and physical media, and ensuring monies would go straight to the artists. Even though it foreshadowed the models later perfected by iTunes, Spotify, and countless other platforms, his vision was dismissed as ‘eccentric’.

• Sixty volumes of journals supposedly written by Nazi leader Adolf Hitler were purchased by Germany's "Stern" magazine for a huge sum, plus the rights were sold to many other publications including the UK's then prestigious "Sunday Times". The hype was enormous. Headlines promised unprecedented insight into Hitler’s private thoughts, and the story was treated as a historic scoop. But almost immediately after the first extracts appeared, experts raised doubts. Handwriting analysis and forensic testing revealed the diaries were crude forgeries, produced by a German conman named Konrad Kujau. It was one of the most embarrassing climbdowns in publishing history. 

The memory:

Rick Wakeman - Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

Occasionally you just hear a piece of music and something just "clicks" in your brain. After just one listen, that song or instrumental gets stuck there. It's more than an "earworm" - immediately it's lodged deep and you know that you will never ever forget it. Such was the case with the final track on Rick Wakeman's 1983 album "Cost of Living".

Wakeman had been a mainstay of legendary progressive rock band "Yes" during the 1970s and is still widely recognised as one of the best keyboard players in the world. He had branched out into his own highly successful solo projects as well, including a number of concept albums - the most well known being "Journey to the Centre of the Earth", which featured his trademark synth wizardry together with a full orchestra, choir and voiced narration. This style of combing modern electronic keyboards with the spoken word continued throughout his career, but to my mind it's never more perfectly encapsulated than when Wakeman decided to record his version of the poem "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray.

Published in 1751, the poem is a meditation on mortality, death and remembrance, evoking the spirit of the countryside as the narrator finds comfort in thinking about the lives of the locals buried in the village churchyard. It's considered one of the greatest English poems of the period because of simultaneously being accessible and memorable and yet open to different interpretations. It's also incredibly alliterative and lyrical. No wonder Wakeman chose it.

To be honest I'd never heard of it back in 1983, despite studying poetry at school (blame the Comprehensive system. I do) - so my exposure to this wonderful work and it's musical accompaniment was purely because by chance I happened to be sat watching television one Saturday evening with my parents. Genial Irish broadcaster and TV icon Terry Wogan was hosting his very popular chat show and after Tezza finished gently grilling his latest guest he turned to the camera and announced that it was time for some music. "Here's Rick Wakeman and Robert Powell". My ears immediately pricked up - not because of the bearded maestro's name, but because of his fellow performer...

I'd been a fan of Powell's ever since the landmark TV series "Jesus of Nazareth" back in 1977 where he played the title role with a startling quiet intensity. I then enjoyed his performances in "The Four Feathers" and most importantly in the starring role as Richard Hannay in the 1978 remake of the classic John Buchan adventure "The Thirty-Nine Steps" - a film I have seen many, many times. I loved Powell's distinctive voice, so here was a chance to see him perform something "live".

As Powell began speaking with the first stanza of the poem, Wakeman's music also softly followed:

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lee
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me"

Just from those four lines I felt there was already a visual sense of twilight falling and the field workers returning home after a long days toil. As the performance continued I was mesmerised - transported to another time and place and totally absorbed in the combination of words and music. But don't take my word for it - listen for yourself:

By the way - the shaky camera footage taken by YouTuber 'Markus Emsermann' is of the churchyard in the village of Stoke Poges, Buckinghamshire where Thomas Gray is meant to have composed his famous poem.

Sure the 80s synth twiddling is a bit overblown at times and perhaps verges on drowning out the words in a couple of places - but you can't deny the power of the verse and the stirring emotions the melding of two different arts invokes. It's a brilliant piece and each performer enhances the other. It took me quite a few years to track down a copy of the album (it's one of Wakeman's least popular solo releases), but since then it's safe to say that I've listened to "Elegy" a hundred times or more and it never dulls.

What strikes me now, looking back, is how unusual the recording was in the broader landscape of 1980s music. Here was a solemn 18th‑century poem given a new life through synthesisers and narration. It’s a reminder that art can cross centuries. I guess it also speaks to Wakeman’s restless creativity - always experimenting with blending classical literature and modern soundscapes.

Both Wakeman and Powell went on to further successes in their respective careers, and actually came together again in 1987 for the double album  "The Gospels". I accept that the keyboard wizard's particular brand of music is not to everyone's taste and that some may find his messing with a classic piece of poetry tantamount to sacrilege. That's fine - each to their own. But although I have heard other versions of Gray's most famous work, both with and without music, this is the one I keep coming back to, and I don't think it will ever lose its influence over me.

Honourable mentions:

• American Flagg! - Often regarded as writer / artist Howard Chaykin's most important and famous work, this was one of the first titles from new independent publisher "First Comics". When  the US government relocates to Mars after a series of worldwide crises, the United States is left at the mercy of mega-corporation "The Plex". Enter former TV star Reuben Flagg, who is drafted into the Chicago branch of the Plexus Rangers militia. Discovering a web of political corruption, subliminal TV messages and plans to sterlise the population, Flagg embarks on a crusade to clean things up aided by a cast of untrustworthy characters and his best friend Raul, a talking orange tabby cat.

• For it's first twelve issues at least, this was my absolute favourite title, way above anything else. The combination of incredible Duotone textured art, adult themes (including my first experience of sex shown in a comic), science fictional setting - and loads of political satire meant that it was unlike anything I had ever read before. After Chaykin dropped off art duties it was never quite the same, but it's rightly hailed as a highpoint of 80s comics and I own multiple versions in various formats.

• Howard Jones - I've previously mentioned that I'd begun to be interested in synthesiser based artists such as "Yazoo", but around this time I got my own keyboard. The was mainly prompted by the appearance of Howard Zones and his particular brand of upbeat electronic pop with the debut of the aptly titled "New Song" in September 1983 followed by the album "Human's Lib". Songs such as "Pearl in the Shell", "What Is Love" and especially the slow ballad "Hide and Seek" were a constant feature of my musical life. I followed Howard's career and bought all the 12" singles and subsequent LPs for the next five years or so. Many are still sitting in a box somewhere and the covers bring back lots of happy memories. The keyboard playing never came to anything though.

• Philip Marlowe, Private Eye - There have been countless version of Raymond Chandler's hard-boiled detective and this TV series from the, then fledging, HBO is not the most famous, but I'd argue that it's up there as one of the absolute best. I came to the show free from any preconceptions as I'd never read the stories or seen any of the film versions - I was just intrigued by the 1930s setting (I guess this was feeding from my growing interest in 'pulp' fiction). Powers Boothe perfectly portrays the moral, laid back sleuth who only uses violence when he absolutely has to. The pace is slow and thoughtful and although it was shown quite late at night, it became appointment viewing for me. The lack of a high quality home media box set is frankly…criminal. 

• Fraggle Rock - Fun, silly and full of memorable songs, this is one of those shows that my whole family sat down to watch. It's my second favourite Henson series after "The Storyteller" and for me at the time combined the best bits from "Sesame Street" (the relatable characters and giant creatures) with those from "The Muppet Show" (the songs and humour). However it did confuse the hell out of me when I saw an American version years later. Where was the Lighthouse Captain? Who was this guy called Doc? The difference was down to Jim Henson’s clever production model - the show was filmed with interchangeable “wraparound” segments so it could feel local to each country. I figured it out eventually, but I still prefer the Fulton Mackay version.

• Was (Not Was) - Born To Laugh At Tornadoes - Although I didn't discover the Was brothers and their various collaborators until the release of "Walk The Dinosaur" in 1987, this second album has ended up being my favourite. Part of the fun is its unpredictability. The Was brothers pulled in an eclectic mix of guest performers - from Ozzy Osbourne to Mitch Ryder -  and the result is a kaleidoscope of styles that somehow still hangs together. It’s one of those albums where you never quite know what’s coming next, but that’s exactly the appeal. Whether it's the pop of "Betrayal", the funk of "Professor Night" or the sheer bizarre jazz sound of veteran Mel Tormé crooning when "Zaz Turned Blue", the whole album is a delight. My friend Neil became obsessed with collecting every version of  "Out Come The Freaks" - of which there are a *lot*.

• White Gold Wielder - by Stephen Donaldson - Not the first book in a fantasy series, but the last, and one of the most anticipated - at least by this reader. It's the finale of the "Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant" - the exceptional story of the bitter, cynical leper who is transported to the fantasy setting of "The Land" and finds himself cast into the unwanted role of a major combatant in the ongoing battle against "Lord Foul the Despiser" through the use of the wild magic of his white gold wedding ring. Although it has some conceptual similarities to Tolkien's masterwork, Donaldson's character is far more of an anti-hero, often committing terrible acts as he rails against what he believes to be nothing more than a lucid dream. Over the course of the two trilogies Covenant experiences catastrophic, life changing events and battles with internal and external struggles. Ultimately he is redeemed and wins an unexpected victory, but the sacrifices both personally and to those he has come to care for are earth shattering.

• Donaldson's love of language and esoteric description sometimes mean his prose verges on the purple - and his protagonists are often unlikeable. However the power of the story, the imagination on show and the deep themes being explored win through, and the final novel is a wonderful drawing together of the various threads and a fitting conclusion to this most unusual of heroes. I have read and re-read all the books many times and ultimately it influenced me enough that when the time came, I got my own white gold wedding ring. Donaldson penned a four volume "Last Chronicles" between 2004 and 2013, but although I was initially excited (so much so that I went and met the author and got the first book signed), I found that as time went on the series turned out to be a journey too far, contained the worst excesses of his authorial "tics" and sadly delivered a conclusion that I was far from happy with. I prefer to think that the series ended properly with "White Gold Wielder".

• Blackadder -  Rowan Atkinson's best character (even if Mr. Bean has been more successful worldwide). In defiance of popular opinion, I consider "Blackadder II" to be the greatest and the funniest. It’s where the show truly found its rhythm - moving away from the medieval setting of the first series and embracing a sharper, more cynical lead. With its mix of outrageous guest stars, quotable dialogue, and a central character dripping with sarcasm, Blackadder II remains the jewel of the franchise. After all, how can you go wrong with a woman in disguise called "Bob", Rik Mayall as Lord Flashheart (Woof!) and the incomparable Tom Baker as Captain Redbeard Rum ("You have a woman's legs, my lord! I'll wager that those are legs that have never been...",etc, etc"). I love it.

• Jon Sable, Freelance - Another First Comics title (I bought everything they published at one point). This time it's the ripped-from-the-headlines adventures of a bounty hunter and mercenary for hire, who makes money on the side as a children's author. Creator Mike Grell was familiar to me from a few issues of "Warlord" and "Legion of Superheroes" that I caught glimpses of, but here his work reached a new level of sophistication, mixing realistic characters with engaging action - split between the streets of New York and the plains of Africa. I adored his artwork and writing equally, and Grell gave his hero a complex backstory rooted in tragedy and survival. It felt more adult than many mainstream titles of the era, with dialogue and characterisation that carried weight. Nowadays Grell is probably more famous for his lengthy run on "Green Arrow", but it was here that his gritty style developed. The series deserves to be in everyone's collection.

The Colour of Magic - What superlatives can I write about the genius of Sir Terence of Pratchett that haven't been said before? (beyond the brief post here that I wrote when he died in 2015) The Discworld begins here, and although it's by no means his best book (being more of a parody of SF and fantasy tropes), the building blocks of the publishing phenomenon to come are all here. I clearly remember picking up this book from my local WH Smith and marvelling at the cover by the great Josh Kirby, who became synonymous with comic fantasy novels for many years. Sam Vimes is my favourite Discworld lead (harking back to Philip Marlowe perhaps?) but I have always had a soft spot for Rincewind. Without him we would not have had the Luggage, or the Librarian or a host of other memorable characters. My shelves are full of Terry's books and they have brought me over thirty years of pleasure. I wish he was still here able to share his outlook on life with the world.

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 16 - 1982

"Know you now of days long past. The time when the world was young. When sorcery thrived and wild adventure was forever in the offering..."

1982:

The Trivia:

• Jackie Chan has always been famous for pushing himself to the limit, but for his 1982 film "Dragon Lord" he went just that little bit further. For a single sequence - a shuttlecock match based on the traditional Chinese game jianzi - Chan reportedly demanded perfection. The scene was a full seven‑minute set piece involving multiple actors volleying the feathered shuttlecock back and forth with their feet, knees, and heads, all choreographed to flow like a martial arts fight. Shuttlecocks are notoriously hard to control, and with so many performers on screen, even the smallest mistake meant starting over. Chan kept the cameras rolling and pushed his cast through take after take after take, until every kick, pass, and reaction landed exactly as he envisioned. By the time he was satisfied, the production had burned through over 1,000 takes.

• When the Disney film "Tron" hit cinemas, it was unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. The studio had poured money into a bold experiment: a film that blended live action with computer‑ generated imagery, at a time when the technology was still in its infancy. The glowing suits, the light cycles, the surreal landscapes inside the computer world - all of it was ground-breaking. It started to look like the future of cinema. But when it came time for the Oscars, "Tron" wasn’t even nominated for Best Visual Effects. The reason? The Academy ruled that 'visual effects' meant models, matte paintings, and optical tricks - the traditional crafts of Hollywood. So using computers was “cheating". How little they knew...

• "Casablanca" is arguably one of  the most famous movies in the history of film. In 1982 freelance writer Chuck Ross devised an experiment. He retyped the script of "Casablanca", changing its title to "Everybody Comes to Rick's" (the title of the original play). He also amended  the name of Rick's sidekick from Sam to Dooley (after Dooley Wilson, the actor who played that character), and submitted it to 217 agencies as a script supposedly by an unknown writer, "Erik Demos". Ninety returned it unread. Seven never responded. Eighteen scripts apparently got lost in the mail. Thirty-three agencies actually recognised it. However, thirty-eight agencies claimed to have read it, but rejected it because they thought the script was not good enough.

The Memory:

The Sword and the Sorcerer

All kids of a certain age will remember their local "video shop". Much like comic book stores full of back issues, video rental shops had their own particular smell, their own ambience. Cheap carpet tiles, an ancient looking television set, the 'adult' section shoved ungainly in a rack in the corner. If films were your drug of choice, the guy behind the counter was your dealer.  I'm not talking the glossy, brightly lit branches of a "Blockbusters" - these were the places that some village entrepreneur decided to open up to provide surrounding residents with VHS copies of the latest Hollywood movies (along with a tiny sample of Betamax format films before that format died an unloved death).

You have to understand that in the 1980s (in the UK at least) it could take up to five years for a film to make it's way from the cinema to the three terrestrial channels (Channel 4 didn't start until November of 1982). If you didn't get to the two screen Odeon or single screen ABC cinemas in the nearest town, that was it in terms of seeing the film until BBC 1 showed it at Christmas or Easter. Sure home taping had begun to take off as the price of video cassettes tumbled - by this point I was regularly recording "Doctor Who" and a whole host of other things off of the television - but *new* films? -  the video shop was really your only option (unless you had access to "pirate" recordings, often from a man driving around honking his car horn and then opening his boot to show the few meagre cassettes he had available. (I vaguely recall getting to see an appalling copy of "E.T." this way).

The thing is, local shops didn't have the cash to buy many copies of the same film. If you were very lucky they would have two or three of a brand new title, but more often than not there would just be a single solitary plastic box on the shelf in the "new releases" section - and that would obviously be missing too if someone had already rented the cassette. You could hang around in the vain hope that someone might return the film while you were there, or be told by the proprietor to pop back in a couple of hours on the off chance that the current renter returned it on time. Either that or choose a different film to watch.

(My local video shop after it had closed. That parish office used to be a betting shop!)

My local video emporium was where I first got to see teen sex comedies such as "Porky's" and "Screwballs", classics like "The Blues Brothers", action films like "First Blood" and horror fare such as"Alien" (naturally I had to get my dad to rent those ones!). This was before the infamous Video Recordings Act of 1984 which saw a whole host of titles classed as "video nasties" and banned. Softcore porn sat side by side with titles like "Driller Killer" and "I Spit On Your Grave". There would always be a copy of "The Warriors" or something starring Chuck Norris - plus a plethora of weird and wonderful titles that you had never heard of but whose cover illustrations and blurb on the back enticed you in. "Rent me" they pleaded. "I'm not crap, honest".

The early 80s was when "sword and sorcery" movies hit it big. We'd had the wonderfully cheesy "Hawk The Slayer" at the start of the decade, followed by "Dragonslayer" and "Excalibur". 1982 was dominated by the Arnold Schwarzenegger starring "Conan The Barbarian", but that wasn't my favourite. Not even Marc Singers "The Beastmaster" came close. No - the 80s best S&S movie by a country mile was aptly named "The Sword and the Sorcerer".

Okay, so anyone seeing the film for the first time will clearly realise that it's a *bit* of a rip off of Conan. The young child protagonist who sees his family killed by an tyrannical invader and vows revenge - growing up in exile to be a muscly rogue mercenary. The evil wizard with his own agenda. The scantily clad beautiful women. The rampant violence. Even that poster above could have been ripped from a Frank Frazetta book cover. So far, so cliché.

But the thing that sets "The Sword and the Sorcerer" above many of it's contemporaries is that - much like the Dino De Laurentis "Flash Gordon" -  it never takes itself too seriously. The hero Talon is witty and intelligent (if rather boorish) and more in the mold of the swashbucklers of the early days of cinema, rather than the hulking brute who just uses his strength. He's also refreshingly honest - agreeing to help the rebellion against nasty Titus Cromwell not for gold or power, but because it will gain him a night of passion with the lovely Alana. The company of "heroes" bicker amongst each other, and it's this kind of knowing, wink-at-the-audience, "yeah we know it's a bit cheap but it's a hell of a lot of fun" attitude that makes the film so entertaining. It also had a lot of influence on later entries in the genre. You can probably trace a (wobbly, meandering) line from here to the "The Princess Bride" five years later.

I can't talk about Talon without mentioning his sword - after all it get's top billing in the film's title. This is not just any normal broadsword. It has three blades, two of which can be fired at the opponent via some sort of compressed air technical doohickery. Plus it has another knife hidden in the hilt. Back in the day I thought this was one of the cleverest things ever. Utterly impractical and you never see Talon having to go and retrieve his blades by yanking them out of someone's skull, but hey, it's still mightily impressive. It's also enchanted apparently, though how and by whom is never explained as far as I can recall.

So what about the Sorcerer then? Well his name is Xusia of Delos and he's a particularly ugly looking specimen - but then so would you be if you had been entombed after using banned dark magic and then resurrected centuries later by Titus Cromwell's pet witch! Xusia aids the evil ruler in finally conquering the kingdom of Ehdan  - but his reward is a literal knife in the back and he flings himself off a cliff, while Cromwell goes on to consolidate his stranglehold over Ehdan across many years. It's a swift end for one of the supposed main characters you might think.

But after Talon and his friends have fought Cromwell to a standstill, there is a massive twist towards the end of the film, as the kings sour faced adviser Count Machelli - standing in plain sight all the time - reveals himself to have been Xusia in disguise all along, and with plans to take control of the kingdom himself.

"He's a sorcerer" you might say. "Of course he can use illusion to conceal himself". Ah, but it's not the fact that Xusia was camouflaged that is the memorable moment from this movie - it's how he reveals himself. Machelli *literally* tears his own head in half, slime oozes everywhere and the hideous visage of the sorcerer struggles free of his meat-suit. It's one of those images which you never forget. Visually impressive in a film which had such a small budget, but also genuinely disgusting. This is the part that all my school friends talked about when news of what a great film it was started to spread around the classrooms.

After this stunning revelation. the final battle features lots of clashing swords and gritted teeth plus further triple blade action and more hidden weapons than you can shake a Cimmerian at. Cromwell get his just deserts, Xusia is finally killed (twice) and Alana is saved from a huge snake between her legs. Yes this film is also full of incredibly thinly veiled innuendo. Following a night of celebration, feasting and not forgetting sex with the princess, Talon rides off into the sunset with his band of mercenaries.

"Watch out for Talon's next adventure - Tales of the Ancient Empire - coming soon" we were promised. But despite keeping an eye on the video shop shelves for the next few years, it never materialised (apparently it was eventually released a staggering 28 years later in 2010, with a totally different cast and only a cameo from Talon. I've never seen it. One reviewer's comment was that it's only redeeming quality was that it was laughably short. Ouch.)

Overall then "the Sword and the Sorcerer" is camp, low budget, has some terrible dialogue and some even hammier acting. But it's full of fun ideas, great action, visceral special effects, blood and gore (Talon is even crucified at one point) and some mild nudity. What more could a teenage boy have wanted? Its "don't care" attitude and word of mouth about how enjoyable it was meant it became a cult classic, not just amongst my friends at school, but also in the wider world. It made near ten times it's original budget and was the most successful independent film of the year.

Having looked at the home media version for the film that is available now, I see that it is rated 18 in the UK - which makes me wonder how on earth we were allowed to rent it back in 1982. I know that the clampdown was not in place for another couple of years but even so, this was not a film that my parents rented for me - I just went and picked it up of the shelf. Perhaps I just looked older than I really was. It's decades since I have seen it, but this look-back just *might* make me search out an old DVD copy on eBay...


Honourable mentions:

• Star Fleet - Not many of us recall this science fiction puppet series, but those that do have fond memories. As far as I know, it was only shown the once on Saturday mornings at the end of 1982. But this was not a Gerry Anderson show (no strings here) and for most children was probably their first exposure to some of the prevalent themes of Japanese anime. It featured a 24 episode long story arc, huge spaceships weird aliens, an ancient looking sailing ship in space and of course the heroes craft combining together to form an awesome giant robot - the Dai-X. We had never seen anything like it before. The UK version is also justly famous for the great theme tune which was later covered by Brian May from "Queen". I have the DVD box set around here somewhere, and really should give it a watch to see if it lives up to that nostalgic glow. Now if I could only find those comic strips from "Look-In" magazine...

• The Dark Crystal - Another fantastical story featuring puppets, but a far cry from "Star Fleet". Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s "The Dark Crystal" is something entirely different: a mythic fantasy that treats puppetry not as comedy or children’s entertainment, but as a vehicle for epic storytelling. What strikes me, is how surprisingly adult the themes are. This isn’t a cosy fairy tale. It’s a story about corruption, balance, and the fragility of existence. The Skeksis, with their grotesque decadence, remain unnerving even decades later, while the gentle Mystics embody a kind of melancholy wisdom. The film casts its spell from the very first frame, pulling you into a dreamlike universe that feels both ancient and timeless. I must have watched it dozens of times over the years, and each viewing reminds me how singular it is - the combination of Henson’s ambition, Oz’s direction, and Froud’s designs creating something that doesn’t really have a peer. For many years my real hope was that the film remained a standalone work of art, untouched by sequels or reboots. Yet surprisingly, when Netflix released lavish prequel series "Age of Resistance" in 2019, it wasn't blasphemy. It combined modern puppetry with digital effects to  deepen the lore, introduce new Gelfling clans, and give the Skeksis even more grotesque detail. I loved it just as much.

• The Young Ones - The anarchic show about four university students which launched the careers of Rik Mayall, Adrian Edmonson, Nigel Planer and (to a lesser extent) Christopher Ryan. After "Not The Nine O'Clock News" had finished earlier in the year, this became my favourite comedy programme and it's where I first came to adore the genius of the late Mayall (although I had seen him the year before as Kevin Turvey on "A Kick Up The Eighties". It was full of cartoon violence, surreal non sequiturs, offensive talking puppets, subliminal flash frames and didn't so much break the fourth wall as smash through it with a sledgehammer (or probably Vyvyan's head). Plus a live band performance in the middle of each episode. For teenagers growing up in the 80s, this was *our* show. The critics hated it, the grown up's didn't understand it, but we could quote whole reams of dialogue. It changed the face of television comedy forever.

• Yazoo - Upstairs at Erics - The first album by synth-pop duo Alison Moyet and Vince Clarke. They were the first band I really followed - and I remember having a disagreement with my year-older cousin because he dissed them in favour of the supposedly cooler "The Jam". The combination of Clarke's synth driven melodies and Moyet's soulful voice, along with the experimental nature of some tracks was a revelation to me and the LP was never off my turntable after I saw them perform "Don't Go" on "Top of the Pops". Years later an acquaintance with his own band revealed that they had auditioned Moyet for the position as lead singer, but had turned her down for not being good enough! 

• Warrior - I only came across this most important of British comic publications by chance while browsing the shelves of a newsagent. The first issue cover with the maniacal, cleaver wielding cyborg Axel Pressbutton proclaimed "He's back!", even though I had never heard of him - and by this point I thought I was pretty knowledgeable about UK comics (but not music magazines clearly). Nowadays of course Pressbutton is more of a footnote, because the anthology is famous for launching the twin Alan Moore juggernauts of "Marvelman (Miracleman)" and "V For Vendetta". My brother and I used to fight over who got to read the issues first and I met editor Dez Skinn several times either at comic marts or by visiting him at the "Quality Comics" shop in South London. As well as the Moore strips with incredibly art from Garry Leach, Alan Davis and David Lloyd, I also enjoyed the medieval demon slaying of "Father Shandor" , although that might have been due to the voluptuous females drawn by John Bolton. I never did quite understand "The Spiral Path" though...

• The Belgariad by David Eddings - A five volume fantasy series that takes many of the standard tropes of fantasy and deals with them in new and interesting ways. Prophecy and destiny are active forces, magic follows strict rules and the pantheon of local gods are real, taking direct action on the world. Eddings was adept at writing interesting and lovable characters and in the enigmatic Belgarath and his daughter Polgara he created two of fantasy's most memorable sorcerers. Yes it's a quest story and, yes by today's standards the plot might seem predictable (it's being marketed more for young adults now I think) but you want to spend time with these people - it's not just the destination but also the journey that counts. Sequel series "The Malloreon" expands on the world and follows many of the same story beats, but that's directly acknowledged in the plot as the hand of prophecy forcing things along. Two other single novels complete the 12 book saga by telling background and historical details from alternative viewpoints. Good fun and a great start for someone into the fantasy genre.

• Eagle comic - I knew the title. I knew that the famous 50-60s version had featured the legendary adventures of the original "Dan Dare" (plus I'd loved his adventures in 2000 AD). but the revival was something different. Dare was there in the centre colour spread (well his great-great grandson) but surrounding him were photo strips across a wide range of genres. Robot action in "Manixx". Police adventures with "Sgt. Streetwise". Cowboy scrapes with "Saddle Tramp". Most popular of all though was "Doomlord" - the tale of an alien race judging humanity and sending an envoy to destroy us all. Despite only having a rubber mask and a few meagre special effects, John Wagner and Alan Grant managed to tell an exciting and scary adventure and kept introducing new fresh elements. I really liked the new Eagle but to be honest I still preferred the hand dawn comic strips such as "The Tower King" and "House of Daemon" (especially as both featured the stunning art of Jose Ortiz) and eventually the comic switched all the stories back to artwork. It never supplanted 2000 AD in my affections and I stopped buying it somewhere around issue 150 in mid -1985, but those early issues contain a lot of wonderful stuff.

ZX Spectrum - Without any doubt, one of the most important home computers in the history of gaming. The sheer innovation, enjoyment and legacy of  Clive Sinclair's little 48K home computer cannot be underestimated. Suffice it to say that for a period of time the humble "Speccy" became the dominant thing in my life (and those of my friends). I spent hundreds of hours typing in code, visiting computer fairs, reading magazine reviews, buying peripherals and playing a vast number of the thousands of games available. It was incredible what could be accomplished with a mere 48K of memory. You only have to mention "Jet Set Willy", "Daley Thompson's Decathlon" or "Knightlore"  and I go misty eyed with nostalgia. Forget Microsoft, Sony or Apple - the ZX Spectrum made home consoles and video games what they are today. I still have the same machine stored away (although it's not been turned on in years). There will further mentions of the rubber-keyed wonder in later posts - relating to a specific innovative game...