Sharks!

"Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water..." has to be one of the most famous taglines in movie history, slicing like a dorsal fin through the surface of our collective cultural consciousness, instantly recognisable even by those (like me) who never saw 'Jaws 2' - from which it derives - or any of the other three horror films in the franchise starring man-eating  sharks!  But then I don't swim, and have never thought it particularly safe to go in the water in the first place, at least not beyond waist height in some quiet corner of the sun-kissed Mediterranean. 

'Jaws' certainly did much to give sharks a worse reputation than they already had, and the obvious question that sprang to mind when I saw this week's blog theme was: is it a reputation that is deserved? I took a bit of a dive into the topic and was surprised by what I found.

 

Sharks have a cartilaginous rather than a bony skeleton (which is why there are no fossil remains to be found) and are of the order of fish known as chondrichthyans. They have five to seven gills on either side of the head and pectoral fins that are not fused to the head. Being dominant in their domain, they have not been required to evolve much from Shark Mark I, though there is great variety to be found.

In fact there are over 500 species of shark swimming around the world's oceans (which, remember, gives them access to 70 per cent of the planet, while land-based life is limited to the other 30 per cent). They have been around for over 400 million years, which means they pre-date (and have obviously outlived) the age of the dinosaurs, presumably because of the protective nature of their watery environment.

It is sad to reflect, therefore, that 143 of the 500 species which have existed so happily for all those millions of years are now classified as endangered thanks largely to the malign impact of mankind on the planet in the last 200 years. That's quite a shocker. One could quite understand if some sharks did have it in for human beings!

So what about all the scare-mongering over shark attacks on people? In reality, although they are apex predators, i.e. top of the ocean food chain, and cold-blooded killing machines of the seas, there have been  a mere 2,785 confirmed reports of unprovoked attacks by sharks around the world since 1958, when official recording of such incidents began. That averages out at 45 a year, less than one per week. Furthermore, the number of fatalities per year is in single figures, in other words little higher than zero in statistical terms; one might almost call that a drop in the ocean, unless you happened to be one of the handful of victims.

On top of that, a mere dozen out of 500 species of shark are truly considered dangerous and of those, only 3 types have even clocked up double-digit death tolls since records began in 1958. They are the Great White, Tiger and Bull. It is true that the number of attacks per year is increasing and the reason for that is thought to be the directly related to an increase in the number of people who go swimming  in coastal waters (e.g. around the USA and Australia) that sharks have traditionally regarded as their own. As in so many other areas, we are the invasive problem.

Leaping fresh from the imaginarium, this week's new poem, again dashed off in haste at the end of another less than successful away day.

In Vinegar Shallows

We'd burst late upon the scene

in sharp sharkskin suits

with cold avaricious eyes

and calculating machines.

In terms of the planetary clock

evening was already under way.

Sun swung low over still waters

as we swaggered down to the shore,

liked all that we saw

and proceeded to royally

fuck everything over

without a care for consequence.

The last few basking sharks

circling in vinegar shallows

clearly knew the chips were down,

the game was up. You could tell

as they meandered mournfully

there would be poaching tonight.

I was going to post a link to the cult 'Baby Shark Song', but thought better of it.

Thanks for reading. Stay dry! S ;-)

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Sharks

Ever since the film ‘Jaws’ in 1975, when the ability of sharks to be predators and attack people on beaches was highlighted, there has been at the back of my mind the danger of sharks.

Not that I ever have swam in the sea or been on a beach where sharks are prevalent, but the idea is visibly planted following that iconic film.

I thought that not swimming in obvious places would protect me from the predator shark, but I was wrong.

Sharks can turn up in unlikely places where you don’t expect them. I worked for two years for an organisation where a shark was circling in our midst. He was a predator who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He would exaggerate the amount of work he did and try to belittle the work of others. He would try and bully colleagues with his size and seniority; he would dominate conversations during team meetings in the hope that the loudest and most constant voice would be heard above others.

Then over the years I have been involved with many community projects, often from churches. These community focused groups offer support to people in need. One of the biggest needs is that some people are in debt and can’t find a way out of it. Sometimes the reason people have a large debt is because they have been ‘loaned’ money by so called loan sharks who prey on people in need, offering small loans and then charging huge interest and demanding with menaces repayment immediately.

So, be careful of sharks as it’s the ones you don’t notice you need to worry most about….

Shark

She found a shark in the fish tank
only 45cm long but enormous
in the 60 cm aquarium

this was a problem
a tank for tropical freshwater
fish and the shark is marine

a couple of spoons of salt
probably wouldn’t help
and what species was the intruder

if from the colder northern waters
then she could turn the heater off
but it’s hard to tell if a shark is hot

she hasn’t asked what it was doing
in the tank as it’s not the ones
you see you have to worry about.

Thank you for reading and stay safe from the predator,

David Wilkinson.

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Let the Truth be told - forever.

I am an avid cinema-goer. I like to watch the previews and select a couple of must-see films to see in the coming weeks. These days there are often so few people in the auditorium that I am surprised that the industry remains profitable. Perhaps my own selections are not mainstream: not in tune with popular viewing pleasure.

Some films have an effect that lasts well beyond the cinema experience. I am reminded of Spielberg's incredible Jaws. I went with my parents and can honestly say that we were all petrified and perched on the edge of our seats.

In 1993 I went with my husband to preview Jurassic Park, unsure at the time whether the movie would be too scary for my young son to view. The scenes with velociraptors still remain with me and like Jaws, the sound track still evokes an emotional response.

There is one film experience that I will never forget because the effect on the viewing audience was simply incredible. Leaving the cinema after a film, the departing audience are usually chatting, discussing their favourite scenes. Leaving the cinema after watching Schindler's List was a completely unique experience. Everyone left in complete silence. The effect was profound.

I knew all about the holocaust. There was a TV series called Auschwitz that had educated and informed my own generation of the brutality of the Nazi Jewish genocide during WW2. I expect that for many in the audience that night, the Spielberg portrayal may have been a first encounter with the truth about the Nazi death camps that murdered over 6 million Jews.

What I find so difficult to understand, is not that the younger generation may not  aware of those horrific events, but that there are people who vehemently deny that they actually took place. It is my hope that the Holocaust should be taught in schools across Europe in graphic detail. Only in this way can we be certain that a new wave of Nazism cannot take hold in the future. The truth has to be told: the eyes and minds of every future generation must be opened wide.

The Naked Truth

They were forced into cattle trucks

And shunted to this place,

So far from prying eyes,

Where looming towers

Overlook the rows of huts

Cramped with rough wooden bunks.

They are stripped of belongings,

Heads shaved and barcodes
Cruelly inked into their forearms.
Names replaced by numbers
Pride replaced by shame.
Dehumanised.

A man they call ‘the doctor’
Mauls the women’s breasts
And then selects
Rejects
Some to the left -
Some to the right.

Now they stand huddled in queues
A hundred at a time
Stripped and hopeful for a shower
They muddle in
They urinate and defecate in fear
As the cannisters release the pungent gas.

And now their bodies lie tangled

In piles of naked inhumanity
Shovelled into brutal ovens
As their ashes fall
Like snow upon the ground
Without a sound.

Hundreds of futures
Lost forever
And yet decades on
Many try to deny the Jewish holocaust
The naked truth
Must prevail. 

Thanks for reading. Please pass it on.

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Movies - On the Shoulders of Giants.

Like everything else in the world, the movies have changed in the last hundred years.  Since celluloid was first animated to produce cine film, new technologies have cut their teeth in the film industry and changed the lives of ordinary working-class people.  A night at the movies has been a universal source of entertainment,  music, laughter and often an educational experience, opening the eyes of the world to the beauty of foreign shores and mountain wildernesses.  It has brought us graphic, visual images of war, famine and injustice.

I love a good story, especially about something inspirational that changes lives. Lawrence of Arabia was my first encounter with a person who made a difference and through reading and movie-going, I have encountered many more. They are remarkable people who changed our perspectives and whose stories enhance our own lives, through the skilful retelling of their stories, by great producers and directors. Sometimes, like Ghandi, Erin Brockovich, and Mandela, they are figures of our times, who teach us moral lessons and show us what we can achieve together.  At other times they are purely fiction, recreated from a novel but they teach us valuable moral lessons about the nature of others and ourselves. If not for the wonderful but brutal portrayal of Dian Fossy in Gorillas in the Mist, I doubt that there would be many of those wonderful primates left in the wild.

Movies can move mountains. I will never forget the blanket silence that enveloped the audience of Spielberg's Schindler's List at the ABC cinema in 1993: One of the most poignant cinema-going moments that I have ever experienced. If anyone born post-war was ever in doubt about the evil of Nazism and why we fought in World War Two, the three hours of powerful film-making that they had just experienced left them with no doubt.

The power of a movie to influence opinion can be exploited. Power corrupts. Ultimate power corrupts ultimately. Working only to entertain for profit can have a negative effect on young minds and behaviour. Watering down dialogue and increasing the level of violence, purely to appeal to a global audience, reduces effective storytelling. I am not saying that all the movies in the past were wonderful.  I just think that the current level of violence aimed at young people is excessive and that those with so much influential power should be mindful when yielding it.

In January this year I went to the launch of  The Winter Gardens Film Festival at Blackpool Opera House, with two girlfriends. It was a magical evening, with a pre-show cocktail in the art deco bar, the Wurlitzer organ playing before descending into the stage, then the movie: Black and white (as was the dress code for the event).  It was the original 1930's version of 42nd Street and included so many sexist remarks and violence towards women, that we three feminists were shocked. There's one thing that cinemas has helped to change. There was a jazz duo in the bar afterwards and it was lovely to really dress for the occasion. The tickets were £7.50 and I highly recommend the experience to you all for next year.

I wrote the poem in 2010 and although I have managed to worm out some excellent big-screen experiences in the mean time, my overall opinion remains the same.

On the Shoulders of Giants.

I love a night at the movies,

A feature in through most of my life,

The cost of the theatre was always outrageous,

For my father of four and his wife.

But he took us along to view Zulu,

And Can Can in Manchester too,

I dragged Nana to see Sound of Music,

We went several times: Technicolor was new.

The Gaumont was stuffy and smoky,

With overstuffed plush velvet seats,

An usherette guided us in with a torch:

During the interval, sold ice-cream and sweets.  

The studios told us a story,

with passion, with skill and with style

Hitchcock intrigued us, then scared us,

Musicals made us all dance in the aisles.

Eastwood was dirty as Harry,

A magnum tucked under his coat,

Then Clyde the orang sent us ape with his punches

I laughed so much at Airplane, I just couldn’t cope.

In the glorious nineteen seventies,

Scorsese sizzled and Coppolla soared,

Lucas launched the light-sabre,

Brian had a life,

Oh my God how we roared.

I still feel myself on the edge of my seat,

As Spielberg’s monstrous ‘Jaws’,

Munched into box-office history,

A Great White blockbuster: but look what it caused. 

When Cameron sank the Titanic

She went down spectacularly,

But he didn’t raise her and sink her again

In Titanic two and three.

I used to love going to movies,

until Stephen attempted Jaws 4 in 3D.

Jurassic Park opened the gates to extinction

Of everything I loved to see.

 

The sequel,

The prequel,

The crappy 3D-quel,

Just rolled on their way,

They had nothing to say,

We went napalming into the nineties,
The budgets exploded beyond exponential
and up by the power of three.
Comic book heroes in trios,
rebooted, re-caped, on a spree.
Homogenised, Superman movies,
with watered down dialogue, are not for me.
When Jackson adventured with Tolkien,
I accepted there had to be three.
It hadn’t escaped my attention
that Lord of the Rings was a trilogy,
though trebling up on a Hobbit
seems rather offensive. I hope you agree.

The rise of the cinema complex

has altered the industry.

The closing of beautiful buildings,

The Regent, The Princess, The Tivoli,
transformed into pool halls and night spots.
No place for the family.
And oh how our choices have narrowed,
with every screen showing  the same,
A Mega-bot sequel,

A Mega-size Pepsi

and Mega-big popcorn,
for one Mega-bucks fee.

When asked why they churn out more robots,

the studios simply say,
comedy and dialogue don’t travel well,
explosions can net £20 million a day.

Will our children understand prejudice,
without films like The Rabbit-Proof Fence,
or consider the rape of an Afghani boy,
if The Kite Runner isn’t made in his defence.
If there is a filmmaker listening, 
I’d love more like Amelie,
I'd like my 'third-kind–close-encounters’
to be truly amazing. Not just one of three.

I still love going out to a movie,

not watching tax-dodging flix on TV,
I want to be moved by the story,
I like a film speaking to me.
Give me more makers like Kubrick, 
more actors as good as Carloff,
Now they stand of the shoulders of giants

And all they can do is fall off.

 

Thanks for reading, Adele

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