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Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LXIII

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A side-by-side of a crude 3D model and an AI-generated otter
Hollywood is coo—[I AM FATALLY SHOT IN THE BACK BY DARREN ARONOFSKY]
  • The end of baldness
  • The New Yorker on the age of AI writing. I’m broadly open to machine learning in the arts (see posts passim), but writing is one area where most applications strike me as sad and self-defeating.1 For films, TV, games, i get it — it can ratchet down costs and make bizarre psychedelic visuals no human could ever imagine — but if you’re not even the one writing the text in your work that consists entirely of text, why bother?
  • Charcuterie: an online explorer for Unicode characters. Pretty nifty interface!
  • “Is my writing too wet? In defence of gloop”
  • “How citations ruined science”
  • HufflePuff. Alive-internet theory in action.
  • “The AI Revolution in Math Has Arrived.” Features an excellent quote about the jagged frontier:

    And the mistakes, Schmitt noted, are weird ones: There is virtually no way that a person with any training in mathematics would make such a plethora of basic errors while also succeeding in coming up with subtle, original, and correct ideas.

    If we were ever to make contact with a truly alien intelligence, i suspect it might resemble arguing with Claude.2
  • Train Jazz, or, turning the New York City Subway into music
  • Twelve Hungry Men
  • Ex-Classics. What a wonderful idea for a site — books which used to be considered classics, but which have fallen into obscurity, hosted online for all to read anew!
  • Radu Jude, the Bard of Bucharest. I must go to Romania one of these days. There’s something in the water there.
  • The title “Irish Zionism” does this video an injustice. This is the spiritual successor to that video about building a giant Jeff Bezos head that detoured into Turkish hair transplants and pirate ships. But on speed.
  • Local interest: Signs of Change at Grainger Market, from the recently discovered Cultured North East, a must-follow for anyone in the area.
  • Kevin Kelly’s list of “contemporary heresies”. All of these are brain-melting in their own way, but, to plant my flag in the shroomy ground, i think 6, 15, 19, 29, 38, 52, and 73 are… kind of cooking?

Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LXII

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And, to finish things off, here’s an Artemis II quickfire round! First, this picture of “Earthset” was the fastest i’ve ever switched to a new desktop background:

The crescent Earth setting behind the Moon

Assorted thoughts on Project Hail Mary

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Rocky from the movie going “Absolute Cinema”

Ryan Gosling has entered that pantheon of actors where i will happily go see literally anything he is in1, but it’s always nice when i wouldn’t have needed convincing in the first place, and as it stands, i probably would have watched Project Hail Mary even if it had starred Neil Breen. (…Maybe only once, though.)

Fundamentally this film is about bromance. Bromance between Ryan Gosling and a rock. And you never doubt the chemistry once. That’s movie magic right there.

It’s remarkable how well Lord and Miller nail the big, cosmic spectacle, and that classic Spielbergian sense of wonder, given that their only prior live-action director jobs have been broad comedies. Maybe Solo rubbed off on them?

Alternatively, i had always attributed much of the “hype moments and aura” in the Spider-Verse films to the directors and the animation team, but maybe these overworking assholes do know what they’re doing after all…

At one point, the ship’s computer says the journey home will take around four years, and that really took me out of it. Don’t they know Tau Ceti is twelve light-years from Earth? Are they stupid? Why even bother having it take years if you’re just going to ignore it?

Anyway, on the bus back i suddenly remembered that general relativity exists, and realised the movie was smarter than me. Embarrassing.

I remember thinking while watching, “Wow, this score is crazy intense,” and then up came Daniel Pemberton’s name in the credits. Of course. “Time Go Fishing” may well replace “No Time for Caution” as my music of choice to pipe through my headphones during takeoff on a plane. A potential Oscar winner? I should bloody hope so.2

Sandra Hüller is shockingly funny in this. Maybe i’m just used to seeing her in roles like “Nazi housewife” and “mariticide suspect”.

What i find most fascinating about Project Hail Mary is that this is a big, huge Hollywood action blockbuster… where nobody throws a single punch! The climactic show-stopping scene is a fishing trip. There’s not even a clearly defined villain; it’s just about cool dudes trying their best to fix a problem.

And you know what? That’s what we need. I’m only the seven trillionth person to say this, but in such pessimistic times, when we seem more than ever to be ruled by a mob of ignoramuses (ignorami?), it was lovely to watch a film with an overriding message of hope. I suspect this and Superman will mark a turning point in the cynical tide of pop culture.

TL;DR: 10/10, probably going to be my favourite film of the year, see it on the biggest screen you can.

Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LXI

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I actually thought some of the Nvidia DLSS examples everyone is butt-mad about looked kinda neat, IDK. Clearly not ready for prime time, but if they can tamp down on the yassification it might help break through the plateau of diminishing returns on photorealism that the past decade of video games has been stuck on.

Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LX

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Stuff i watched recently, February ’26

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A montage of stills from the reviewed films

Marty Supreme (2025)

So many insane fucking things happen in this film, i almost forgot that the opening credits sequence is Timothée Chalamet’s sperm racing to inseminate Odessa A’Zion’s egg, which then turns into a ping-pong ball, which he hits. Everything about Marty Supreme further confirms that Mr Chalamet is our generation’s only true movie star. 9/10

Silent Night, Deadly Night: Part Two (1984)

Watched over Discord voice chat with a friend, which i suspect is the ideal way to do it. Eric Freeman, who plays our main character Ricky, makes some… how should i put it… inspired acting choices every time he opens his mouth — this is a man whose eyebrows have a mind of their own.

My only real complaint is that i just wish there was more killing. Over half of the film is taken up by a clip show of the previous entry in the series, and though Ricky’s rampage is iconic enough to make up for it (Say it with me: GARBAGE DAY!!!!), i can’t help feeling there’s a lot of missed potential. 7i/101

Pee-wee’s Big Adventure (1985)

This is what i thought being an adult would be like as a kid. We should all aspire to be a little more like Pee-wee in our daily lives. 8/10

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025)

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Look — there’s a lot to like about this. Jacob Elordi’s turn as Adam Frankenstein is fantastic. But it’s overstuffed with so, so much pointless melodrama and bombast — and coming from a director who claims to hate CGI, it sure did look like the bloody Polar Express every time there was a fight scene! 5/10

Zwartboek / Black Book (2006)

Paul Verhoeven is single-handedly holding up the entirety of Dutch cinema with just his pinky finger, and we must all thank him for it, otherwise there would be no respite from the endless Hilversumslop. 7/10

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple (2026)

“moon”

Easily the most brutal film in the series, and none of the worst kills are even done by zombies! Ralph Fiennes gives it his all, with a fantastic record collection to match. Jack O’Connell is one to watch, too — the look on his face when he starts thinking wait, shit, is this guy Satan? is pure cinema™. 8/10

Pink Floyd — The Wall (1982)

I’m still not sure if this is a searing societal critique or a sad, puerile tantrum. I don’t know if anyone’s sure. Still, i’ve got to give it a positive rating just for the insanity of the animation on display. 6/10

Primate (2025)

I was going to watch internationally acclaimed Korean thriller No Other Choice. Unfortunately, i was late to the screening, so i decided to watch a movie about an evil monkey instead.

And you know what? It’s a damn good movie about an evil monkey! It’s clearly not the best film ever, but it’s the best version of itself it could be. The decision to use a guy in a practical suit (with some CG touchups) for the titular chimp paid off massively. I just wish Noam Chomsky was here to see it.2 6½/10

Hereditary (2018)

Everyone who was a member of the Academy in 2018 should be slapped in the face until it bleeds for not nominating Toni Collette for Best Actress. My stomach was doing ollies and backflips all the way through — the family argument is more terrifying than anything supernatural could ever be. 10/10

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

What i find interesting about this is that it’s, like… a 1920s-nostalgia picture? Which is a concept that’s almost incomprehensible today. Maybe that’s why the big show-stopping number has fuck-all to do with anything else — but it’s hard to care when it’s that bloody good! 8/10

The Fugitive (1993)

I tried writing a review of this, but when i looked back at the page, it was just “They don’t make ’em like they used to” over and over again? Strange. To paraphrase Vespasian: I think i’m becoming a Dad.

Reading up on the production afterwards, it’s incredible that this is as great as it is. It seems so meticulously planned out, and then it turns out they were just making it up as they went along. Harrison Ford fucked his knee during the train stunt and he just had to have a limp for the rest of the film because they were shooting chronologically. Incredible. 8/10

Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere (2025)

Largely fails to rise above standard biopic mediocrity, but there are some surprisingly interesting choices being made — setting it at one particular moment in Bruce Springsteen’s career helps ward away the standard mile-a-minute “this is the entire life story of Blorbo Glump” biopic pacing, the incidental music is shockingly good given the type of film this is, and, of course, Stephen Graham is there. 5¼/10

Cold Storage (2026)

I liked this overall — good, campy fun — and would recommend you go see it, since it doesn’t seem to be getting much love at the box office. But…

It’s often said that streaming services like Netflix mandate that the dialogue in their shows be written for slowpokes who are watching while scrolling through TikToks on their phone, and this was the first time i got the sense that was going on. Joe Keery’s character is a talkative (if charismatic) little bastard, and he often speaks like he’s trying to put the audio describer out of a job, pointing out the blatantly obvious and repeating information we’ve heard a jillion times before. You just wish Liam Neeson would tell him to shut up. 6/10

Send Hepl (2026)

The best Sam Raimi Moments™ in Send Help, in no particular order:

  • A boar attack being the most terrifying thing in the entire film
  • Closing the plane window on your annoying coworker screaming for help
  • The eye-gouging fight in the woods
  • Dylan O’Brien having a paddy after Rachel McAdams leaves him alone

7½/10

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

I think my copy just had uniquely crappy picture quality, but every frame of this looks like someone’s last known photo. There is no good in this movie’s world. There doesn’t seem to be much at all, really. Just unrelenting chaos and torture. So, you know, god forgive a family love each other and have a shared hobby 🙄️ 8/10

From Dusk till Dawn (1996)

Quentin Tarantino drinks beer off a vampire woman’s foot. So that’s going to be etched into my mind forever. Thanks. 7/10

Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LIX

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Okay, i know it’s gauche to begin a link roundup with an image file just after i forced your computer to load a Youtube embed, but i need to confirm that you’re seeing the same thing i am on your screens.

A website for a company called Satyress advertising “threehalves”, a centaur-shaped robot

We’re all seeing that, right? A robotics company called “Satyress” that’s making centaur-shaped robots? I’m not just hallucinating the most concentrated Xanthebait imaginable? You’d fucking better be seeing it, or else i’m going to have start measuring my prozac dose in grams. Anyway. Link roundup #59, link #1, complete. Here’s the rest!

A trip to Alnmouth

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Across a field, by the beach, a charming village is visible on a small peninsula, surmounted by a cloudy grey sky.
Please ignore the smear of utility pole blocking the view.

When i was a child, old enough to be firmly planted in the UK but young enough that every day outside a school’s walls was magical, my family would sometimes take the train up to visit kin in Scotland. I got the window seat, of course — i still hold that those who genuinely prefer aisle seats are suckers — and as i watched the Northumbrian countryside roll by, the sight of one particular town always held my attention, what seemed to me like some kind of Turneresque utopia by the sea. But we never debarked until Scotland was in sight, and this village thus remained a mystery to me. Some days ago, i decided to rectify that. Welcome to Alnmouth.

A two-platform railway station with a small ticket hall and a (slightly ugly) platform crossing bridge A sign reading “Welcome to Hipsburn — Please drive carefully”

Well — i say Alnmouth, and indeed so does the sign at the railway station, a modest and drizzly affair that gets a surprising amount of service due to its prime position on the East Coast Main Line. One thing you must understand about the sign and i is that we are filthy, filthy liars. This is Hipsburn, a teeny-tiny1 village about a mile inland. You can get a bus from here to there, or, indeed, to Alnwick, the other town on the station sign and by far the more prestigious.2 But that would be boring, and i came here to touch grass, not listen to other people’s TikToks at maximum volume, so it’s off along the B1338 i go.

As i approach the roundabout ahead of me i think to myself that i would like to retire in one of these cottages, and maybe die there if my transhumanist sympathies should ever fail me. The village’s last institution before it peters out into the countryside is Alnmouth United FC, who are slumming it down on the ninth step of the football pyramid. I wish them well; my old hometown’s club recently folded and got locked out of their pitch, so it’s good to see the local game alive and well here.

A marshland view
A girdered bridge passing over quiet waters
The Duchess Bridge, seen looking back towards Hipsburn.

From here things get squelchy. I rest for a moment on the girdered pedestrian footbridge, which clings on for dear life to its Victorian car-carrying counterpart, and gaze inland over the river as it flows downstream and under my hooves. The marshy pastures all around, too salty for crops of human worth, once fed oxen and other beasts of burden, but, in 2006, their flood defences were deliberately breached, rewilding them and creating swathes of estuarine saltmarsh. I’m not holding my breath for otters to show up ­— they’re crepuscular buggers, and i’ve come in the afternoon — but i do spot a relaxed teal in the grasses. (I’ve always been more of a mammal fan, but it’ll do. Call it a home-team bias.)

The Lovers’ Walk, essentially as described below
A lonely bench on a piny hill
This bench would make excellent fodder for an indie album cover.

I carry on down the “Lovers’ Walk” (a popular term for scenic walkways in the eighteenth century, a sign assures me), wedged between piny hillside and sandy water. This is perhaps not the scenery that England would like to advertise to the world: a cold, grey, winter day, where the nominal path is liquid with mud and the river seems permanently half full. Nonetheless, this part of Northumberland is one of our “National Landscapes” — né·e Areas of National Beauty — and i find it sublime even in the most miserable weather.

As i edge closer to the town, a chorus of tweeting, chirruping birds grows louder and louder. I attribute it to the flock of wigeons across the river, but, passing by the boating club and getting (relatively) further inland, its loudness refuses to fade. Imagine my surprise when it turns out to be the back garden of a holiday cottage!

A duny hill that rises on the opposite shore of a shallow river, topped with a wooden cross

Back down to shore and through the dunes, now. “Danger: River estuary. No bathing,” complains a sign from the council, which is a shame, because unless i want to backtrack it’d be the only viable way to reach the landmark that dominates Alnmouth’s skyline (to the extent that it has one): Church Hill, a cross-topped hillock ever impending in the distance.3 It is said that it was on this wind-blasted top that, in 684 CE, Saint Cuthbert was elected to be Bishop of Hexham. It is also said that two otters would come and warm Saint Cuthbert’s feet after he had stood in the freezing North Sea and whispered his nightly prayers, and that animals regularly helped him with his housework, so take these things with a grain of salt.

A typical small-town Northumberland street scene, with a pub named ‘The Sun Inn’ at centre

At last, i make it to Alnmouth itself, and i regret that i have little to say about it other than that it is nice. There are many nice places in Northumberland, usually ones not located over a coalfield, and though i find them all pleasant, i confess i sometimes have a hard time telling them apart. I take a short break in a café whose windows, in this weather, make the outside world look like a still life by Mr Magoo. I savour every sip of their hot chocolate. It tastes like the ones grandma used to bring home from Spain. I would have liked to stay longer, but as it is, it will already be dark enough by the time i get back to Newcastle (let alone my actual hometown) that they will be holding candlelit vigils for the slain Iranian protestors by the Monument. So, as one does, i leave for the beach.

The beach

The walk over takes me across the manicured grass of the local golf club, who i’m again sure are very nice.4 I hang back from the frothy Atlantic, conscious that touching it will likely freeze my bollocks off5, and focus on the sand beneath my feet, its consistency akin to that of… well, sand. Specifically, it reminds me of the play sand that gets everywhere and which every parent surely regrets ever buying for their child. It is soft enough to sink in my steps, tough enough not to immediately fizzle and flood back into the hole left over. The Dutch call this taai, especially when it comes to the texture of food, and it has always bugged me that there is no decent English equivalent.

Trudging back to the Lovers’ Walk over the estuary flats, i spot something that mystifies me. Gossamer shifting sands, light as silk, sailing and shimmering with the force of the wind. When i go over to stand amidst them, they are so thin that i feel nothing on my ankles but the wind. I imagine myself as a sort of low-rent Lawrence of Arabia.

The entrance to a small hut; above the door is a painted oar reading "The Ferry Hut" A small museum display in the corner

The last place i take note of is a small hut on the land of the boating club. I saw it on the way in, but thought nothing of it at the time, figuring it served some private purpose. But… it’s awfully empty, and there’s noöne around, so… it can’t hurt, can it? I venture towards its nigh-black planks. Crude painted lettering on an old oar over the door calls it the ferry hut; inside, this old shack has been converted into a miniature museum of the village’s history — its people, its ferrymen, how it fared in the war, all told through laminated books and picture frames. I wish i lived in a town that had as much respect for itself as this mere village of five hundred!

Not having brought enough cash for a substantial donation, i settle for a slightly guilty signature in the exhibition’s guestbook, and carry on my merry way home, pleased as punch. I think to myself: I’ll have to come back.

Mx Tynehorne’s link roundup, volume LVIII

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