Category: Film

Rise of AI: A Double-Edged Sword

Spotting AI generated articles is a hobby that is designed to be a minority pursuit. There will, no doubt, come a time when the writings of a human and that of a machine will become indistinguishable. I don’t think we are there – yet. Headlines like “Aircraft flies through heavy rain” are either a bored human scribbler or a machine with time on its hands.

The early promoters of the INTERNET imagined a great library of existing material becoming easily and freely accessible to anyone and everyone. It was to be an enlightened development that drove the digitisation of massive amounts of information. Although, even now, it’s not too difficult to pick an obscure book or magazine off a charity shop shelf and find that there’s no reference to it on-line. True, it’s getting harder to do.

That which hasn’t made it to the digital world, like boxes of 35mm slides I inherited from my father-in-law, will sit quietly gathering dust in the attic. I hardly think this is a great loss to humanity. Although, random holiday snaps of Cornish landscapes from the 1970s might one day become fashionable. More likely they will gather another decade’s dust.

Making the INTERNET the modern equivalent of the great library of Alexandria[1] is a worthy ambition. Civilisation could be defined in a way that embraces a preservation of knowledge. What we find is that the 21st century version of the digital world has strayed from these high-minded ideas of its early promoters.

My desktop, tablet, and phone can access a universal store of fact and fiction, truth and lies. What is troubling is that the line between these is becoming increasingly blurred. The demand for instant and every changing material is insatiable. In the past, technology was the limiting factor. Now, it’s not.

Here’s a compilation of likely headlines from our machine friends. I can’t be sure and it remains possible that a human may have authored some of these eye-catching wonders.

“Astronauts face dangers during spacewalks.” “Most fascinating deserts on Earth.” “The beach that many consider to be the best on the entire planet.” “Study claims aliens may be hiding on Earth.” “They found a triangular UFO in the woods – then it vanished without a sound.”

I note from 5-minutes watching headlines change that the craft of catching our attention is the one that is most valued. The term – click-bait – was made to describe what’s going on. Whatever words can be framed to entice a potential reader/viewer to go here and not there, that has value.

Again, what’s concerning is that it will be algorithms that will master the art of catching our attention. They do. They will surpass smart thinkers and artful writers. Mainly because they instantly have a whole well of past successes to draw upon.

For sanity’s sake, I need to stop this line of thinking. The further I look the more we become destined to a dystopia that was portrayed in a movie that hit the screens before the mobile phone became ubiquitous. A 20th century fiction that made everyone sit up and think, as well as being highly entertaining, was The Matrix. Now, it called a classic.

A generation on and AI produced material is filling our screens. It’s not yet dominant. There’s a small amount of kick-back too. Not time for a rebellion. Question is – will those born now be the rebels or the captives of this digital revolution. 

[1] https://www.britannica.com/topic/Library-of-Alexandria

Exploring ‘Project Hail Mary’

I’m sure there’s a lot of great science fiction scripts out there waiting to be discovered. Unknown authors trying to get someone to read their story. To me, it’s often astonishing the movies that get made. It goes without saying, movie making is an expensive business. Being invested in a story, to the extent of finding millions to fund filming, is no mean feat. The lower risk option is to take a book, that isn’t terrible and adapt it in a way that takes full advantage of the visual medium. The higher risk option is to do something truly original.

It’s now on Prime, so I thought to watch it. The recent movie “Project Hail Mary” is a struggle. I started watching it and quickly got bored. That’s me, someone who likes an imaginative Sci-fi. The only way I could handle it was to watch the movie in chunks. Digest a bit at a time.

Ryan Gosling is an able lead. Trouble is that he acts an off-beat, highly unlikely, irritating character that bumbles along like a space bound Mr Bean. The premise of a spaceman waking not knowing where they are in the universe is not a new one. Having to work out the whole purpose of a mission, in what seems like a few minutes flat, is pushing it.

At the core of the plot is the relationship between Ryland Grace (Gosling) and an unusual alien. A highly advanced alien whose physical appearance seems to undermine that fact. In the whole universe, at least there’s a reasonable explanation for this unlikely meeting of these two smart lifeforms. A common interest. Saving their homelands.

It’s one of the biggest questions that humans can ask. Ever since spaceflight has been a possibility the question arises. What do we do in the event of a first contact? This movie plays with the event in a jovial way. Then it veers into seriousness as it’s disclosed that both protagonists are alone. Their colleagues are all dead. This flipping backwards and forwards from semi-comical routines to serious hardcore predicaments gets waring over the length of a long movie. The storytelling plodded.

There’re some daft aspects of the spaceships and their occupants too. Grance has human dexterity but “Rocky” would seem to have the superior ship. So, why did they go to the target planet in the last-minute cobbled together humans ship? That had no pilot.

On the plus side the themes that come through, at the end, are hopeful ones. Cooperation, mutual understanding and respect are far more powerful than fear and cowardliness.

From the outset, Grace knew that the likelihood of failure was enormous but in a Dr Who like way the – something will come up – attitude prevailed. Problem with the overall story was that it was improbably staked so heavily against the heroes that it became ridiculous in places.

Again, on the plus side the characters did have an emotional connection. A long way from home the two bonded. It’s questionable whether such two different lifeforms would share a similar sense of wonder, appreciation of beauty and respect for learning. That said, this merry space romp should be taken with a pinch of salt.

I don’t think I’d watch this one again unless I was strapped to an aircraft seat on a long journey.

A Modern Odyssey

Join the que. It’s getting to the point that if you don’t have aa view on Christopher Nolan’s version of the Odyssey you must be a hermit. Epic coverage for an epic movie. Add a mountain of click-bait on trivia too.

Before watching this movie, at the local cinema, I sat with a pint in hand overhearing a couple of people sitting behind me. They were having that discussion. Lots of compare and contrast. Some comments were not atypical of a film about Greek mythology. Even the subjects of Star Wars and Spiderman came up. I asked: did you enjoy it. A universal “yes” came back.

It’s a risky business making a film like this one. It immediately invites thousands of professional critics to look deeply. To subdivide every minute into an academic review. From school desk to university lecture theatre, I can imagine a lot of huffing going on. Diving into the detail or picking fault with the well -known parts or lamenting the ones left out.

I’m not going to get into the discussion about authenticity. For me that’s a complete dead-end. Afterall such ancient tales were made for retelling. The whole tale comes from an era when the written word wasn’t as it is now. More likely be like a gigantic drinking ballad told to enthral diners, where a host is aiming to impress. Each teller would bring their own spin.

Is this grand film entertaining? Yes, it certainly is. Big, bold and engaging. It’s long. But on first watching, the time goes quickly. I wouldn’t say the pace was always fast. It’s more the dramatic moments that captivate. I feel like I’ve been shipwrecked numerous times. Fought several battles.

Casting was spot on for the most part. One or two quirks. I know Calypso is a nymph in Greek mythology, but she looked as if she had walked out of a scene from Sex in the City.

Being me, I did wonder how the Cyclops made cheese when his hands where so large and his sheep were so small. Bigger sheep would have solved that one.

Poseidon was responsible for a great deal of torment. He however was left out of the casting. The rage of the sea lashed out without a face.

The dead, in their black volcanic sand, did take us into zombie movie territory. A lie echoed from the grave to burden the hero. It left us with a dilemma – was it all worth it? The death and destruction for the victory won.

Locations didn’t fill the screen in the way of Lord of the Rings. Far more focus was on the characters. There were places and scenes that didn’t fit my idea of a long-lost Greek landscape. That didn’t detract from the storytelling.

Modern sensibilities crept in to draw that line between an ancient time and what’s now happening in the world. It wasn’t just a homecoming story. War, and its consequences peppered the plot. Who to trust, and not is a major theme.

Echoes of the virtue of the “rule of law” where evident. The Greek Gods sat in the background. Ever present and ready to mess up the hero’s plans at any moment. Easily offended and not troubled by their impact on the human world.

Classical messages, as they ripple down the eons, do remind us of how fickle fate can be. Doing the right thing is not always obvious. What’s heralded as greatness often contains much tragedy. The story of life is the journey and not an end.

From the point of view of multimillion dollar filmmaking, it’s going to be fascinating to see what Nolan does next. How about an epic modern Macbeth. Or taking a past space odyssey to the next dimension. Even the story of Boudica.

Embracing Uncertainty

Imagine siting under a great wide spreading old oak tree. Acorns falling all around. The ground littered with whole ones, crashed ones and half eaten ones. It’s more the half-eaten hazelnuts that the squirrels leave behind that I’m thinking of. On one of those cool days, like this morning, when the rain has abated and the sun beams are streaming across the glistening fields. It was lower than 2 degrees, early this morning, so a heavy drew rests on the grass and leaves.

Think of title for a book or film that sums up the state of current affairs. I’m tempted to say “All the President’s Men” but that’s been well done in the 1970s. Not only that but the word “scandal” may have lost its meaning. Political fiction and reality are melding into one. Anyway, I don’t want to follow the crowd and obsess about America.

Was there ever an age when prosperity seemed assured and the population was happy. When men and women of honourable intentions and wisdom, judicially ruled the land? Maybe not. Or when it happened, to some limited extent it didn’t last beyond a generation.

Any title for a book or film would have to encompass the persistence of change. Nothing upon nothing ever stands still. In fact, that’s one of the few things I can write that is an absolute. A real natural absolute phenomenon. Everything we know of moves relative to something else and movements mean change. We never breath the same air.

In a storage box of my books there’s a title: “Thriving on chaos[1]“. That’s more to do with an attitude to change. It doesn’t sum up the moment although it does imply that chaos is normal. I’m not going there fully since not all change is chaotic. Life is punctuated with regularity. It’s the traditional saying about death and taxes. Those two are regular occurrences.

A financial crisis or stock market crash or bursting bubble seem to hit us as an unexpected instant of violent change. Unexpected that is until hindsight kicks in and we all wish we’d listed to siren voices. Analysis streams from the outcome of a crisis[2].

A title for a book or film would need to include the recurrent nature of both good and bad consequences. It would need to emphasis our inability to accurately predict what’s going to happen next. That is even if one or two of us may get it right.

All this leads me down the road of a manner of thinking that’s all too common to me. That’s the world of probabilities. Addressing that slippery ell called uncertainty. So, what could be better as a title than: “The Age of Uncertainty.” Oh look, that’s been taken back in the 1970s. What could be better than the title chosen by John Kenneth Galbraith[3]?

He looked at the chaotic but repetitious nature of our common history. Going way back. Unsurprisingly a little cynical and monosyllabic at times. I’ve been rewatching his BBC television series. It’s impressive.

Acorns are falling all around. An unusually large number, this year. Next year – who knows? If I could find some reliable data, I could do some probability calculations based on past seasons. But with certainty, I can say that we are in an age of uncertainty. Acorns will fall. How many – well that’s the question isn’t it.

[1] https://tompeters.com/thriving-on-chaos/

[2] “The Storm” by Vince Cable, the Liberal Democrat politician, looking at the 2008 global economic crisis.

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/m002l6sc/the-age-of-uncertainty

Nostalgic Reflection

Daily writing prompt
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?
View all responses

Try telling the kids of today. They’ll never believe you. This is the punchline of the “Four Yorkshiremen” sketch. It’s a comic sketch of four retirees, enjoying a cocktail, or two, on a sunshine holiday. They tell stories and try to outdo each other with reminiscence of hardship and their humble beginnings. Naturally, it gets silly.

Here’s my go. My childhood was tough. My brothers and I had to entertain ourselves with board games, toy cars, Lego and Meccano. Kicking a ball around, building camps out of hay bales and fighting wars with cider apples as ammunition. Building a tank out of egg crates and a milk churn trolly. Trying to make kites out of scraps of polythene sheeting. Spending hours on a riverbank waiting for a lone dace, minnow or roach to take the line.

We used to dream of having a computer (not true). Massive arrays of flashing lights, panels of buttons and dials and deafening teletype machines. None of us would have known what to do with one if we had one. Any appeal would have been for roleplaying futuristic stories. The small screen gave us so many visons of the future to feed our imaginations. My image of computers was shaped by Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, Space 1999. Blake’s 7, Captain Scarlet And The Mysterons and Thunderbirds, to name a few.

It’s nice to be nostalgic, occasionally. There was life without computers. It wasn’t so bad.

Back to the question. What would my life look like in 2025 without computers? Let’s just say – I wouldn’t be writing this answer.

Who 15

As per tradition there was a moment of running down corridors pursued by robots. Add to that the shock horror realisation that it’s bigger on the inside than the outside and the staple diet of BBC Science Fiction is playing again.

Dr Who is rolling[1]. As expected, Russell T Davies works magic with a super-fast story line. In fact, so fast that I’m going to have to watch it again to figure out exactly what the featured rift in space and time did to the plot. Thematically up to date as the main baddy in control of the evil robots was both misogynistic and AI. I’ll give something away if I reveal that the two letters AI were not what they seemed. Not only that but the robots were redeemed.

Although there was a smidgen of absurdity and an expectation that the audience would draw of decades of Dr Who mythology, the show hit the mark. Afterall it’s entertainment not a profound reflection on the state of the world. It’s colourful Saturday night drama that the whole family can watch. Although in this case there was no need to hide behind the sofa. Also, a lot of the 21stC social commentary would be lost on younger viewers.

Because the series has been running for such a long time there’s a bit of repetition that creeps in. This is not bad per-se. It’s a reminder that coming up with truly original scripts is incredibly hard. Imagination has no limits but when pen hits paper past references helps move stories along quickly.

Adventures in space and time could go on forever. All time, in fact. The subject has no limits. Each version of the Dr Who saga will be set in the context of the audience’s everyday reality. So, the Daleks were a product of nuclear war, and now humanities greatest threat comes from billions and billions of electrical ones and noughts.

Playing with humankinds’ curiosity about space and time is fruitful territory. Imagery can be fantastical and push the boundaries of video production. If anything, Dr Who is modest in pushing at those boundaries. Mustn’t forget that it’s prime time entertainment. Real space and time are far more than a headful.

[1] https://www.radiotimes.com/tv/sci-fi/doctor-who-times-release-schedule/

Laughing Through Politics

Maybe it’s not a new seam to mine. That rock of British popular culture that puts up a mirror to entertain us or even shock us. There’s always a space for the public to be tickled by the absurd or hamming up of clichéd characters. It’s struck me, particularly on rewatching British TV comedy, how what we find humorous is an indicator of how we might think more generally. Or there’s a peculiar connection.

Obviously, it would be good to look at this subject in an objective way. To see what the evidence says. However, it’s almost impossible to separate personal experiences from any general observations. Afterall, I went to school where we endlessly repeated lines from Monty Python’s Flying Circus. This had our poor teachers totally bemused. Long forgotten is the “woody and tinny words” sketch. It only took a teacher to say a woody word and we’d have hysterics.

Not that Python didn’t offer one or two educational opportunities. In imagination, if nothing else. Try “The Man Who Speaks in Anagrams[1]” as an example.

When Mrs Brown’s Boys[2] became popular, I knew we were in serious trouble. I may be a real snob, but this kind of British “comedy” is a throwback to the worst of the 1970s (almost). To me the show has no merit whatsoever. It’s a sop to a grim set of stereotypes.

Jamilla Smith-Joseph’s short article[3] does point out that British culture is one of seeing the funny side of both us Brits and those strange foreigners. Problem is that in a simmering Brexity climate, we find it so much easier to lampoon our nearest neighbours, European foreigners.

I matured from Python to then enthusiastically embrace “The Young Ones” in my anarchic student days[4]. Now, I rewatch the series and the impacts are curious. In so many ways 21st Century Brits have become tame and unadventurous. The sheer destructive energy that let rip on TV screens delighted in upsetting established norms. Now, lots of people are embarrassed by what was called “alternative” comedy at the time.

Then we grew-up and got jobs. Tony Blair came onto the scene. Born out of that period of change was such masterpieces as “The Think of It”. Hope and optimism descended into spin and panic.

Popular culture and politics do connect. Is it a mirror like refection or is it a subconscious trend indicator? Or even a driving force that sustains a current way of thinking?

British popular culture is not going through a creative period. In 2025, there’s not a lot to recommend. Oddly it’s a series that started with a low budget movie from New Zealand that I find is the best comedy of the moment. “What We Do in the Shadow[5]” is variable in places but has horrendously funny moments.

So, come on British writers it’s time to better lampoon the toolmakers son who sits on the fence. One leg here, and one leg there. Labour’s latest adoption of conservative attire is surly worth funny lines. Something original. Maybe even out of this world.

[1] https://youtu.be/Q1sXeUHBHgk

[2] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1819022/?ref_=ttep_ov

[3] https://ukandeu.ac.uk/a-very-british-euroscepticism-the-popular-culture-politics-nexus/

[4] Yes, I really did live in a rundown brick terrace, with a hole in the wall as space for a payphone, and a dodgy builder come landlord. Carpets with slug trails and an icebox as a shower.

[5] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7908628/

Dr Who?

I’m having to get to know Paddington. For such a long time my route into London was via Victoria station. Every nook and cranny of that enormous railway station was etched into my brain. I could go from A to B with the speed of a swift. Southern trains trundle backwards and forwards, in and out of London. For the last 8 years, I’ve been able to navigate from my doorstep to the Royal Albert Hall (RAH) in about an hour. Only occasionally being marooned in Croydon.

Once I’d discovered the BBC proms it became a regular part of my annual schedule. That knocked off August and part of September. Promming[1] is a wonderful tradition that opens access to great music of all kinds for a token sum. Standing for me is no big deal.

Last night, I travelled through space and time. A different space and time from my normal one. Now, I’m having to get to know the ins and outs of a different railway company. To some extent they have “proper” trains that go somewhere. I mean, cities in Wales and the West of England.

This was only my second BBC prom of the year. This one was going to be different. For a start it was Bank Holiday Monday. It was the main day of the Notting Hill Carnival[2]. For those who don’t know that sat on my route into Paddington and round the Central Line to the RAH.

Busy, busy, busy. I don’t know if the National Orchestra of Wales to the same route as me. They were on stage for prom 48[3]. Thankfully, GWR speedily and safely got us into London.

The buzz was infectious. Whovian community folk like to dress-up. Standing in-line outside before 6pm, conversations were about favourite monsters and the authenticity of other prommers costumes. Fantastic handmade scarfs. Elaborate purchases from e-bay. Eccentric illusions to long lost baddies. I felt grossly underdressed. That said, I shouldn’t have been surprised but the audience was about as intergenerational as is imaginable. Maybe, I should have said intergalactic. I was standing next to a would-be William Hartnell in his 20s. Further along the que there were 2 Sylvester McCoys in their late 50s, at least.

What can I say about the evening? Hat’s off to all concerned. It was a dam good show. I don’t count myself as a Whovian even if this small screen fiction has populated most of my life. I was struck, not just by the obvious theatrics but how important the music had become to the whole drama. It really does pull on the emotional strings. Story telling needs that magical music.

Standing in a crowded arena, I wasn’t for one moment frightened. Which I would have been as a young boy with a cyberman walking straight toward me. An authoritarian Dalek called for the interval. Ordering the orchestra off the stage. The revered Russell T Davies was in the audience. They played out with the Doctor Who theme.

For an evening learning a new route in and out of London, all my effort was more than rewarded. Time and space well spent. I shall now turn my hand to inventing a working TARDIS. Then I could go back and do it all again. Well, that is except for the cool breezy late-night hanging about at Reading station platform 3.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/3598F306c3KnN6t3x6ThKpN/what-is-promming

[2] https://nhcarnival.org/

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m00224zh

DUNE Part Two

It’s long. It’s engrossing and it’s a saga well told. That was my Monday afternoon. Sat in a comfortable seat curtsey of the Everyman in Reigate. The movie of DUNE is spread over 2-parts[1]. The second part is just out. It’s release was much delayed by the strikes in Hollywood. I’d say from my viewing this movie was well worth waiting for.

The whole world of DUNE centres around the most valuable commodity in the galaxy. A flash of an explanation can easily be missed. The desert planet Arrakis is the one source of that commodity. Science Fiction has a wonderful way of taking us to fantastical worlds filled with issues that are not so far from current day dilemmas. The commodity of Spice reminds me of several sought-after substances. The exploiting of valuable commodities at the expense of indigenous life has been a hallmark industrial progress.

In the imagination of Frank Herbert civilisations exist and compete within one almighty empire. The story in part 1 and 2 movies hinges on the dreams of a young man named Paul Atreides. I don’t want to give away key plot points but he’s special in so many ways.

Themes extend over the role of brutality and war in either imprisoning people or liberating them. I guess Frank Herbert didn’t see the passage of 800 centuries as a pathway to saving us from the 4-horsemen of the apocalypse. With that in mind, he’s stollen from religious texts as much as a Shakespearean landscape of ideas and the hero’s journey from Greek myths.

The enduring nature of grand sagas that show “good” overcoming “evil” have an immense appeal. All the twist and turns along the way and the troublesome megalomania that accompanies the coming of a liberator are as fresh ever.

DUNE long precedes Star Wars. The latter is cruder in pulling the emotional hearts strings and much more simplistic. The leadership of the Fremen people and mastering of “desert power” to defeat a devious Emperor doesn’t bring universal peace. In the span of the film, the planet Arrakis is freed form the cruel Harkonnen family. That is by no means the end of the story.

The intriguing role played by the Bene Gesserit women is a play over generations where influence is maintained regardless of who’s Emperor. This poses the question of the source of religion. Does it guide the Bene Gesserit (high priests), or do they guide it?

Back to the movie. I like the way it veers from the intimate relationships between individuals to the incredible sweep of vistas and strange technological imaginations. It deals with the environment and the nitty gritty drives and motivations of tyrants and powerful leaders. Is it inevitable that concentrated power produces a dark future. If the answer is “yes” we are in deep trouble with the digital world of now. We will not need to wait for thousands of years.

My recommendation is – see it. Choose the most comfortable seat in the cinema. Go on a rainy overcast day. Don’t go if your mind is cluttered up with trivia. By the way, the list of movies coming soon is dreadful. We are going into a nostalgic remake agony fest.

[1] https://www.dunemovie.net/

Dr Who at 60

Now, I can be nerdy par excellence. It makes me nervous to the extent that there are far more knowledgeable scribblers on Doctor Who. It’s not like the internet is without a massive amount of coverage of every aspect of the time lord’s life. Although, I’m not sure I’ve seen the details of David Tennant’s shoe size – yet.

Last night, way out on the edge of the know universe was a spaceship. Somehow it got there through a random worm hole. The drama doesn’t expand as to what the enormous ship does, or why it only had one crew member or the anarchic mix of technologies.

Almost like a sketch from the Twilight Zone, the mystery mounts as we are asked to go beyond our normal understanding. That’s a good plot line, in that anything then becomes possible. So, at the edge of what exists there’s nothing but blackness ahead. Behind is everything that was ever known in space and time. The good, the bad and the indifferent. And where most of us would rather be.

The end of everything, as far back in time as it’s possible to travel in this story is not empty. A malevolent force or mystical entity hides there hoping to one day make its way forward in time to annihilate everything it finds. Malevolence is so often associated with emptiness. It’s a primal thing.

That’s what The Doctor and annoying companion Donna encounter when the Tardis goes awry. Given that it was spilt coffee that threw them to this point in space and time maybe the transport ship they encounter was an intergalactic coffee carrier or a shoe carrier. With respect to Douglas Adams.

Titled “Wild Blue Yonder” the tale told wasn’t so much blue as void of natural light. Way yonder lurked a clever and evil shape shifter. So, evil that the Tardis runs away, as it rebuilds itself. Our two protagonists were then marooned on a giant ghost ship with no idea what’s happening. Now, that’s a fine plot. Adrift in the deep darkness.

Over a series of frantic moments, the story pieces together. The original pilot of the ship turns out to be a hero, prepared to sacrifice themselves to destroy the nameless baddies on the ship. The pilot’s cunning plan was ticking away at ultra slow speed to evade the speedy thinking malevolent thingies. Distracted but feeling imprisoned the shape shifting villains put all their energies into attempting to copy The Doctor and Donna.

The copies strategy then appears to have been to hop on board the Tardis when it returned. That’s a bit of a plot flaw. Since the Tardis would presumably only return when the air of evilness had been destroyed. That’s what did happen in a wonderful just-in-time moment. Concluding the story with the destruction of the spaceship and the physical forms of the lurking baddies. Thus, again we are all saved from extinction. Open is the question of whether the lurking baddies still lurk.

This 60th anniversary special was for fans. To those uninitiated into The Doctors world, it must have been confusing. Difficult to follow. In fact, rather slow in parts. David Tennant as the 14th Doctor is the best modern incarnation. Long may the Tardis take us to the limits of imagination. It’s possible that the 120th anniversary will include a virtual world that we will be able to step into and be immersed in a vast spectacle. Good luck to those who last that long.