It is still bloody snowing.
It won't go away. For a brief period yesterday, it looked as if the torment would finally end. It looked as if the good old British weather would break, the rain would once again fall and it would wash all the sodding white slippy stuff away.
Oh. Hell. No.
Instead, all that happened was the temperature plunged and the rain turned to snow, which then settled on the newly frozen ground. Fan-fucking-tastic. I was almost looking forward to being able to drive places again. At least all this snow has done wonders for my petrol consumption, which is currently zero for the week. Seeing as how I usually get through half a tank a week, I've technically saved £12,000.
Oh, and this second snap of snow has come just before I need to go places to do visiting Christmas related stuff. Excellent. I was already dreading the motorway drives alongside idiot folk who believe you can still get into the fast lane with a Ford Focus laden with 5 people, 500 presents and two suitcases. Now I have to deal with both those people as well as the sorts who, because of a single solitary flake of snow on the hard shoulder, think that the maximum speed limit on a motorway should be 9mph. Fantastic.
However, despite all of these calamities which have befouled my existence this week, there have been two shining lights.
The first, and if I must admit most douchebagy, was I spent about 3 hours on Facebook yesterday commenting about how awesome it is working from home on everyone who updated their status from their phones stuck in snow bound traffic. It was amazing. Sure, I got a lot of abuse and will no doubt be given a number of savage beatings but it was totally worth it. Although I think that is just people being sore about stuff. I mean, if you have been stuck in a multi story car park for 4 hours trying to get out into a town centre, it is all in good fun if someone comments that they “can't hear you over the sound of being warm and comfortable.”
The second shining light to brighten up my week is a tad more emo. Christmas is finally here.
Last night, I threw some decorations up, wrapped up all the presents I'd bought folk that had been slowly been developing into a decent sized fort in my room and watched The Muppets Christmas Carol three times. Today I've done the grand sum of sweet sod all and tomorrow the visiting of relatives begins.
Christmas is here. Each year I think “oh, it isn't all that festive this year” and grumble a bit then the festive season hits about now and all becomes well in the world. No work, no worries, no nothing except food, friends, family, presents and a hearty old drink-a-thon.
That, my dear followers, is what Christmas is all about.
Merry fucking Christmas and I will see you on the 5th of January. If I've sobered up from NYE by then.
Lots of love,
Ben
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Sunday, 20 December 2009
Snow!
Credit for this awesome photo goes here
Well this snow is fucking ridiculous. I mean who in the blue balled cauldron of Croydon thought it would be a great idea to make it snow just before Christmas? I mean, on Christmas snowing is more than acceptable. If anything it should be encouraged. After Christmas and around NYE too is fantastic. But in the week building up to Christmas, when people still have to get to work, go shopping, drive half way around the country to see other bits of family and do stuff which generally needs the roads to be clear and trains to run, having Ol' Jack Frost shit his white stuff all over the country is not helpful in the slightest.
I've nearly smashed my car up twice already attempting to get to places I need to be and have nearly fallen flat on my arse a few times after my dipshit neighbours decided to clear their drive ways with water. This is not a lie. I've caught a few of them running their hose down their drive to clear the snow off it. The concept of gritting and salting is foreign to these people. How they can eat their breakfast without losing all their teeth chewing on a rock baffles me.
Anyway, aside from the general disruption to the simple things in life like buying milk that snow brings, it has another down side. It makes you ill. I'm not shitting you, as an adult snow makes you ill. And you want to know why? It's all your parents fault.
When it snowed when you were a kid, your parents wrapped you up warm, sent you out with a coat and gloves and scarf and hat and thermals and spear and everything you may need for a right rip roaring old Arctic adventure. Then, when the playing was done and you got back in, they made sure that you changed out of your wet, cold clothes and put on some nice warm stuff. They may have even made you something nice and warming to eat. Oh, what a glorious time it was. Nowadays, in adult life it seems you just come in out of the cold, go to the pub and get ill. The two times it has snowed this year, I've gotten ill. The first time was back in February when we had the Superbowl party up at the O2. When we all turfed out the whole place was covered in snow, so 1,000 drunk NFL fans had a big old snowball fight. As you do. The next day I felt like shit.
Last night I was out celebrating a friend's birthday. There was already still a pretty solid amount of snow still left frosting the locality, but hey ho that good old douchebag Jack Frost decided to throw some more down. This meant that we had to play in it. It isn't like you have a choice in these things. Put a bunch of beered up early 20-somethings in the snow and we will play. Deal with it. So, we threw snowballs, did some bundles, tackled each other, tried to de-trou people and what not. It was a tremendous lark. And then we all went inside and drank some more, singing songs of the joys of Christmas.
Today, I've woken up with a thick head and a sore throat. I'm ill, and it must be the snow's fault. That fucker got me sick, and not a week before Christmas proper and all. I'm going to punch Jack Frost in the face.
Anyway, you want to know the end result of my experimentations with snow? I'm telling you, no matter how old you are you need your parents around when it snows or else you will die. End of story.
By the way, assuming I survive the night and make it to Tuesday, expect that to be the last post of the year. Christmas for me starts on the 23rd and I aim to sober up again sometime around the 5th of January.
Thursday, 17 December 2009
The Internet and How It Saved Christmas
I love the internet. Not only does it allow me the possibilities to go and troll lots of uppity people, blather on and on about my simply ridiculous points of view and moan about a whole manner of things, it also lets me not have to talk to anyone face to face.
I don't like people. I don't like the general public. I like my friends, sure, and I like my family. When jobs have forced me in the past to interact with people I have obliged, but in general my rule of thumb is people should be avoided at all cost. It's nothing personal, I'm sure you are a great laugh, a nice person and a gentle yet thorough lover. I just don't care.
That isn't to say I'm a total recluse. Of course I go out. Sometimes I'm not entirely happy about the places I get dragged to, but I go. As much as I dislike dealing with the general public, the thing I'd hate more is to sit inside hating on strangers. That would just be odd.
Anyway, I digress. Christmas Shopping. Where as meeting random people for a laugh in a nightclub is one thing, wandering around town with fistfuls of bags of presents is quite another. That is not exactly my idea of fun.
This is where the internet stepped in. For the first time, I did every single last bit of my Christmas shopping (all right, I bought ONE thing in a shop) online. And from only two websites – IWOOT and Amazon. It was brilliant. It was a revaluation. Frankly, it was damned near erotic.
But do you know what the absolute bestest thing in the whole wide world is? It now means that either over the weekend or next week when I go into London to look at all the pretty lights, shop displays down Regent Street and have a mulled wine in Covent Garden, I can do it without the burden of shopping bags. And that, my dear friends, is what it is all about.
I don't like people. I don't like the general public. I like my friends, sure, and I like my family. When jobs have forced me in the past to interact with people I have obliged, but in general my rule of thumb is people should be avoided at all cost. It's nothing personal, I'm sure you are a great laugh, a nice person and a gentle yet thorough lover. I just don't care.
That isn't to say I'm a total recluse. Of course I go out. Sometimes I'm not entirely happy about the places I get dragged to, but I go. As much as I dislike dealing with the general public, the thing I'd hate more is to sit inside hating on strangers. That would just be odd.
Anyway, I digress. Christmas Shopping. Where as meeting random people for a laugh in a nightclub is one thing, wandering around town with fistfuls of bags of presents is quite another. That is not exactly my idea of fun.
This is where the internet stepped in. For the first time, I did every single last bit of my Christmas shopping (all right, I bought ONE thing in a shop) online. And from only two websites – IWOOT and Amazon. It was brilliant. It was a revaluation. Frankly, it was damned near erotic.
But do you know what the absolute bestest thing in the whole wide world is? It now means that either over the weekend or next week when I go into London to look at all the pretty lights, shop displays down Regent Street and have a mulled wine in Covent Garden, I can do it without the burden of shopping bags. And that, my dear friends, is what it is all about.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Drinking Theory
Right, I think I've just about recovered from my weekend of helping someone move hosue. I don't mind if I'm still feeling spectacularly craptacular on a Tuesday if it is because I've been out debauching, misbehaving and pouring a few litres of controlled poison down my neck. In that scenario I do a little dance of joy and sing the praises to the alcohol gods. Unlike many, I accept hangovers as part of the fun. If going on 60 hour benders was easy then every sod would be doing it. No no, hangovers are some deity's way of making sure that only the strong go on such manic drinking sprees.
Sure, you get the weekend warriors who think it is hardcore to go out on Friday AND Saturday night. Don't get me wrong, it is commendable. The drinking of the beer is a highly respectable phenomenon and should be done as often as possible. Students too are good at this, as are estate agents and recruitment consultants. Those are pastimes that seem to be fuelled by booze.
I myself cannot deny that I enjoy a hearty drink from time to time. Although life as a freelancer often means that invoicing levels are directly related to my blood alcohol one, when the bills are paid drinking is one of my favourite hobbies. That and my aquarium.
Actually, though, when you think about it drinking pretty much defies logic. Back in the dark, distant and dingy past of a few years ago when I was still being given some form of an education, one of the classes I took was Psychology. It was actually pretty good fun. I nearly did it at Uni, but then realised the thought of spending another 5 years in education both bored and terrified me. Being a writer that lives month to month is much more rewarding.
Our Psych teacher was actually pretty cool for, you know, a teacher. Not only did Dr. B know her stuff, she also knew how to deal with a bunch of 18 year olds. Sometimes she would do little friendly experiments on us when we got a bit know-it-all, whenever a phone went off she would over analyse the ring tone and we would get onto some terrific tangents. One day, thanks to a big social event the night before, literally her entire class was hung over. How any of us had even made it into college was a mystery. Dr. B tried valiantly to teach us the lesson plan but it was to no avail. We were just counting down the time until the bell so we could head into town for some grease.
In the end we started talking about drinking, which made most of us wretch thoroughly. Who on earth would want to think about drinking in the grips of an almighty hangover? Then she told us something quite interesting. I still find it interesting. I will now tell you, and hopefully you will find it interesting.
Drinking so much alcohol that you fall down wetting yourself in a doorway before eating a Spaniel kebab from a hairy little man and falling asleep on the stairs pretty much defies logic and psychological theory. In theory, after your first hangover you should not want to drink again. We all know about the reinforcement theory of how people learn behaviour – if it is positive, you do it again where as if it is negative you don't. Well, as anyone can tell you, being hungover is most definitely a negative. Yet people still do it. I suppose you could argue that the amount of fun you have before the hangover begins outweighs the hangover itself, but frankly when you are that drunk you've blacked out for most of the fun times and just have a searing headache and wobbly bowels.
Yet people still go drinking anyway. I just find that interesting. Now, anyone fancy a pint?
Sure, you get the weekend warriors who think it is hardcore to go out on Friday AND Saturday night. Don't get me wrong, it is commendable. The drinking of the beer is a highly respectable phenomenon and should be done as often as possible. Students too are good at this, as are estate agents and recruitment consultants. Those are pastimes that seem to be fuelled by booze.
I myself cannot deny that I enjoy a hearty drink from time to time. Although life as a freelancer often means that invoicing levels are directly related to my blood alcohol one, when the bills are paid drinking is one of my favourite hobbies. That and my aquarium.
Actually, though, when you think about it drinking pretty much defies logic. Back in the dark, distant and dingy past of a few years ago when I was still being given some form of an education, one of the classes I took was Psychology. It was actually pretty good fun. I nearly did it at Uni, but then realised the thought of spending another 5 years in education both bored and terrified me. Being a writer that lives month to month is much more rewarding.
Our Psych teacher was actually pretty cool for, you know, a teacher. Not only did Dr. B know her stuff, she also knew how to deal with a bunch of 18 year olds. Sometimes she would do little friendly experiments on us when we got a bit know-it-all, whenever a phone went off she would over analyse the ring tone and we would get onto some terrific tangents. One day, thanks to a big social event the night before, literally her entire class was hung over. How any of us had even made it into college was a mystery. Dr. B tried valiantly to teach us the lesson plan but it was to no avail. We were just counting down the time until the bell so we could head into town for some grease.
In the end we started talking about drinking, which made most of us wretch thoroughly. Who on earth would want to think about drinking in the grips of an almighty hangover? Then she told us something quite interesting. I still find it interesting. I will now tell you, and hopefully you will find it interesting.
Drinking so much alcohol that you fall down wetting yourself in a doorway before eating a Spaniel kebab from a hairy little man and falling asleep on the stairs pretty much defies logic and psychological theory. In theory, after your first hangover you should not want to drink again. We all know about the reinforcement theory of how people learn behaviour – if it is positive, you do it again where as if it is negative you don't. Well, as anyone can tell you, being hungover is most definitely a negative. Yet people still do it. I suppose you could argue that the amount of fun you have before the hangover begins outweighs the hangover itself, but frankly when you are that drunk you've blacked out for most of the fun times and just have a searing headache and wobbly bowels.
Yet people still go drinking anyway. I just find that interesting. Now, anyone fancy a pint?
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Blow by Blow of a crap weekend...
Friday
11:00 – Wake up with hangover
12:00 – Make it downstairs, attempt to work
16:30 – Give up for a bit, try to beat brain into action. Order Pizza
17:00 – Think you finish working for a short Friday. Eat Pizza.
18:00 – Realise you have another job to do. Get indigestion.
20:00 – Finally finish working, start driving to Cambridgeshire
22:00 – Realise the E14 is closed, do 4 junction detour back down the M11
23:30 – Finally get back on track
23:45 – Get pulled over for speeding. Although not getting ticket, get mocked by hot policewoman for not having a criminal record.
00:00 – Finally reach destination.
02:00 – Bed. Sleep.
Saturday
05:00 – Get woken up and get into van.
06:30 – Stop at service station for chocolate and Ribena. Buy copy of The Sun as, frankly, a white van has to have one.
08:15 – Get to flat. Start moving lots of heavy things downstairs out and in to van.
11:00 – Finally finish. Start drive to new flat location.
12:30 – Get to new flat location. Find out that we got there before the person who we are helping move because they stopped for lunch.
13:00 – Person who was the most hated in the world redeems themselves by bringing sausage rolls and cakes.
13:30 – Start unloading truck full off stuff. Double the stairs as before and a time deadline.
14:30 – Work at full pace non stop for an hour. Rain starts.
15:30 – Finally finish dumping boxes, furniture and other miscellaneous crap in flat. No time to hang around as van has to get back
16:45 – After mad dash, get van back
17:00 – Think day is done. No chance, get phone call saying shopping must be done.
17:30 – Finish getting shopping. Finally head back to house.
20:00 – After getting back, find that toddler needs looking after. Play with energetic infant for few hours.
21:30 – Dinner. Nice.
23:00 – Finally pass out through exhaustion.
Sunday
10:00 – Wake up but steadfast refuse to get up before 11am
11:00 – Get up.
11:05 – Get burdened with energetic toddler again.
12:15 – Start driving back home towards London.
13:45 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
14:00 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
15:00 -– Get stuck in M25 traffic.
16:00 -– Get stuck in M25 traffic.
17:00 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
18:00 – Make it home! Realise that Monday morning deadline jobs need to be done. Consider working.
18:20 – Post unfunny blog post
11:00 – Wake up with hangover
12:00 – Make it downstairs, attempt to work
16:30 – Give up for a bit, try to beat brain into action. Order Pizza
17:00 – Think you finish working for a short Friday. Eat Pizza.
18:00 – Realise you have another job to do. Get indigestion.
20:00 – Finally finish working, start driving to Cambridgeshire
22:00 – Realise the E14 is closed, do 4 junction detour back down the M11
23:30 – Finally get back on track
23:45 – Get pulled over for speeding. Although not getting ticket, get mocked by hot policewoman for not having a criminal record.
00:00 – Finally reach destination.
02:00 – Bed. Sleep.
Saturday
05:00 – Get woken up and get into van.
06:30 – Stop at service station for chocolate and Ribena. Buy copy of The Sun as, frankly, a white van has to have one.
08:15 – Get to flat. Start moving lots of heavy things downstairs out and in to van.
11:00 – Finally finish. Start drive to new flat location.
12:30 – Get to new flat location. Find out that we got there before the person who we are helping move because they stopped for lunch.
13:00 – Person who was the most hated in the world redeems themselves by bringing sausage rolls and cakes.
13:30 – Start unloading truck full off stuff. Double the stairs as before and a time deadline.
14:30 – Work at full pace non stop for an hour. Rain starts.
15:30 – Finally finish dumping boxes, furniture and other miscellaneous crap in flat. No time to hang around as van has to get back
16:45 – After mad dash, get van back
17:00 – Think day is done. No chance, get phone call saying shopping must be done.
17:30 – Finish getting shopping. Finally head back to house.
20:00 – After getting back, find that toddler needs looking after. Play with energetic infant for few hours.
21:30 – Dinner. Nice.
23:00 – Finally pass out through exhaustion.
Sunday
10:00 – Wake up but steadfast refuse to get up before 11am
11:00 – Get up.
11:05 – Get burdened with energetic toddler again.
12:15 – Start driving back home towards London.
13:45 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
14:00 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
15:00 -– Get stuck in M25 traffic.
16:00 -– Get stuck in M25 traffic.
17:00 – Get stuck in M25 traffic.
18:00 – Make it home! Realise that Monday morning deadline jobs need to be done. Consider working.
18:20 – Post unfunny blog post
Thursday, 10 December 2009
A peek at a prologue
As I continue to find myself in the grips of actual, real paid work, I have no original content. Please consider this exclusive peek at the prologue of the book I'm currently working on as a settlemet.
Prologue: Also known as 'How The Earth Went South'
When planet Earth decided to blow itself up in a haze of nuclear inspired glory, it wasn't considered as terrible an incident as one would think. Let's face facts, by the point that the twenty fourth century came around Earth was a bit of a dump. As more and more people had emigrated off to live out their dreams on the frontiers of space, those who were left behind were little more than the dregs of society.
And the dregs gave an admirable effort in the running of the planet. Initially, a few major players in the whole global politics and business scene stayed behind. They said they would never give up their beloved home world for the cold, dark horribleness of space. Their children, however, often had a different point of view and as the older generations of Earth loving folk died off, their genetic replacements happily took to the skies and went to have space adventures.
As more and more of the traditionally successful left, so to did the institutions and organisations that generally bred their prominence. Eventually, all that was left population wise were those who you wouldn't trust with a pair of safety scissors, the sorts of people who complain about the quality of television that is on at 4 in the morning and the criminally insane. And when those sorts are left to rule over a planet, little things like civilisation and culture pretty much go out the window. No matter what way you slice it, Murder She Wrote is not comparable to Othello.
To begin with, the Galactic Federation tried to take care of the danger zone known as Earth. They tried sending aid and providing some positive economical and political influence. But, as ever when such things are forced on people who just aren't interested in helping the common folk, all they did was swell the pockets of those in charge. Those that actually needed the little things like clean water and some food were, once again, left to twiddle their thumbs and hope that enough fell down through the system.
Eventually, the Galactic Federation got the right old hump with Earth and their pilfering, ungrateful ways. Despite being an organisation started by the human race on the exodus from Earth, the Federation finally ran out of patience with their old planet. The turnover of generations cut the bonds of sentiment with the planet and the Federation gave up, instead focusing their efforts in escaping the Milky Way to try to find other intelligent races who might actually want their help.
A few people trickled off Earth and into the larger space community, but for all intents and purposes the dregs that made up the population of the Homeworld were left to their own devices. And when people are left to their own devices with a chip on their shoulder, bad things normally happen.
In this case, the bad things started off with in fighting. The factions of countries that had formed their own little cliques all blamed each other for arsing off the Galactic Federation and their lovely, 'throw money at it to solve the problem' ways. This disagreement between folks eventually went from petty name calling to little skirmish battles, as each group fought to be the dominant one who would take over the world before currying back the favour of Galactic Federation and their sexy free money. Except it is human nature to not be able to just have little skirmishes. It is human nature to escalate things and not let bygones be bygones.
And when the people having a feud are the dregs of human society who have access to weapons of mass destruction, it became blissfully easy to see where things were heading. On an idle Tuesday afternoon at some point in an unseasonably warm autumn, countries finally had enough of each other and started to send nuclear weapons flying around the globe to land wherever they fancied. To say it left the earth a bit of a mess is an understatement. It wasn't completely trashed, but it definitely went down the used car jargon rankings from 'slightly used' to 'perfect for a restoration project'.
After everyone was done unloading their arsenals of death at each other, there wasn't a whole lot left. Most of the world was a great big crater while the parts that were habitable enjoyed a nice nuclear winter. The Galactic Federation, perhaps feeling a trifle guilty over leaving a planet to self destruct, gave them a little bit of help. They alleviated the nuclear winter in the area that was once the ancient city of London while dumping some old space station modules to help give civilisation a bit of a kick start. Eventually, enough people migrated that way and the human population of Earth began to grow once more. From either word of mouth that spread to the various enclaves that had appeared around the world or after being actively sought out and found on reconnaissance missions, the lost human souls all eventually came to London. This time, however, it was as a singularity.
To begin with, it was glorious. All of humanity joining under one banner in order to rebuild their shattered planet, vowing never again to let their differences get in the way of things. Oh, it was a wonder to behold. Except, once again, human nature sort of always gets in the way of wondrous events. When there is a chance to seize absolute power, people want to seize it absolutely. When there is only one sauce of authority, people will question it all the time.
Eventually, the rebooted human race went much the same of the old way. New London soon turned into a new and updated version of Kowloon Walled City. Instead of being the starting point for the Federation to return the planet that they emerged from to it's former glory, New London became one of the staple stops on the tours of the seediest parts of the universe. It bred crime, it bred illegality and it became a base for many of the worst characters. The fact that the Galactic Federation had given up on it meant that if you wanted to stay off their radar, that was the place you went on your holidays. Or emigrated to.
Which is a shame really. London hadn't been all that badly damaged when the world cut off it's nose to spite it's face. If anything, the whole area had been improved as a stray bomb had landed in Slough. But a self governing cesspool it never the less became.
Earth became nothing but a second thought. Even those who actively tried to separate themselves from the Federation, the Rebels, didn't go there. By the time the 26th century came about, the old Homeworld Earth was, if anything, a taboo. Not one soul of humanity looked back there.
Well, maybe one...
Prologue: Also known as 'How The Earth Went South'
When planet Earth decided to blow itself up in a haze of nuclear inspired glory, it wasn't considered as terrible an incident as one would think. Let's face facts, by the point that the twenty fourth century came around Earth was a bit of a dump. As more and more people had emigrated off to live out their dreams on the frontiers of space, those who were left behind were little more than the dregs of society.
And the dregs gave an admirable effort in the running of the planet. Initially, a few major players in the whole global politics and business scene stayed behind. They said they would never give up their beloved home world for the cold, dark horribleness of space. Their children, however, often had a different point of view and as the older generations of Earth loving folk died off, their genetic replacements happily took to the skies and went to have space adventures.
As more and more of the traditionally successful left, so to did the institutions and organisations that generally bred their prominence. Eventually, all that was left population wise were those who you wouldn't trust with a pair of safety scissors, the sorts of people who complain about the quality of television that is on at 4 in the morning and the criminally insane. And when those sorts are left to rule over a planet, little things like civilisation and culture pretty much go out the window. No matter what way you slice it, Murder She Wrote is not comparable to Othello.
To begin with, the Galactic Federation tried to take care of the danger zone known as Earth. They tried sending aid and providing some positive economical and political influence. But, as ever when such things are forced on people who just aren't interested in helping the common folk, all they did was swell the pockets of those in charge. Those that actually needed the little things like clean water and some food were, once again, left to twiddle their thumbs and hope that enough fell down through the system.
Eventually, the Galactic Federation got the right old hump with Earth and their pilfering, ungrateful ways. Despite being an organisation started by the human race on the exodus from Earth, the Federation finally ran out of patience with their old planet. The turnover of generations cut the bonds of sentiment with the planet and the Federation gave up, instead focusing their efforts in escaping the Milky Way to try to find other intelligent races who might actually want their help.
A few people trickled off Earth and into the larger space community, but for all intents and purposes the dregs that made up the population of the Homeworld were left to their own devices. And when people are left to their own devices with a chip on their shoulder, bad things normally happen.
In this case, the bad things started off with in fighting. The factions of countries that had formed their own little cliques all blamed each other for arsing off the Galactic Federation and their lovely, 'throw money at it to solve the problem' ways. This disagreement between folks eventually went from petty name calling to little skirmish battles, as each group fought to be the dominant one who would take over the world before currying back the favour of Galactic Federation and their sexy free money. Except it is human nature to not be able to just have little skirmishes. It is human nature to escalate things and not let bygones be bygones.
And when the people having a feud are the dregs of human society who have access to weapons of mass destruction, it became blissfully easy to see where things were heading. On an idle Tuesday afternoon at some point in an unseasonably warm autumn, countries finally had enough of each other and started to send nuclear weapons flying around the globe to land wherever they fancied. To say it left the earth a bit of a mess is an understatement. It wasn't completely trashed, but it definitely went down the used car jargon rankings from 'slightly used' to 'perfect for a restoration project'.
After everyone was done unloading their arsenals of death at each other, there wasn't a whole lot left. Most of the world was a great big crater while the parts that were habitable enjoyed a nice nuclear winter. The Galactic Federation, perhaps feeling a trifle guilty over leaving a planet to self destruct, gave them a little bit of help. They alleviated the nuclear winter in the area that was once the ancient city of London while dumping some old space station modules to help give civilisation a bit of a kick start. Eventually, enough people migrated that way and the human population of Earth began to grow once more. From either word of mouth that spread to the various enclaves that had appeared around the world or after being actively sought out and found on reconnaissance missions, the lost human souls all eventually came to London. This time, however, it was as a singularity.
To begin with, it was glorious. All of humanity joining under one banner in order to rebuild their shattered planet, vowing never again to let their differences get in the way of things. Oh, it was a wonder to behold. Except, once again, human nature sort of always gets in the way of wondrous events. When there is a chance to seize absolute power, people want to seize it absolutely. When there is only one sauce of authority, people will question it all the time.
Eventually, the rebooted human race went much the same of the old way. New London soon turned into a new and updated version of Kowloon Walled City. Instead of being the starting point for the Federation to return the planet that they emerged from to it's former glory, New London became one of the staple stops on the tours of the seediest parts of the universe. It bred crime, it bred illegality and it became a base for many of the worst characters. The fact that the Galactic Federation had given up on it meant that if you wanted to stay off their radar, that was the place you went on your holidays. Or emigrated to.
Which is a shame really. London hadn't been all that badly damaged when the world cut off it's nose to spite it's face. If anything, the whole area had been improved as a stray bomb had landed in Slough. But a self governing cesspool it never the less became.
Earth became nothing but a second thought. Even those who actively tried to separate themselves from the Federation, the Rebels, didn't go there. By the time the 26th century came about, the old Homeworld Earth was, if anything, a taboo. Not one soul of humanity looked back there.
Well, maybe one...
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
Paid Work Foils Us Again
Sorry for no update yesterday. That pesky paid work got in the way. I suppose I could have knocked something together at 3am when I finished, but didn't think I should inflict a foul mouthed rant at you guys. I like you too much.
I'll be back tomorrow with a real life, sensible post.
I'll be back tomorrow with a real life, sensible post.
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Cat Story
I swear to you that this story is true. This is the kind of silly life I lead.
On Friday, I didn't get done working till rather late. By that point, I couldn't be jacked to go and have a proper night out so I just made like a sad old man and walked up to the local pub for a few beers.
All seemed perfectly normal, I said hello to a few people and meandered outside for a cigarette. While outside doing my bestest to shorten my lifespan, I noticed a ginger cat chilling in the smoking area. Now, I hadn't ever seen this cat before in my life. It seemed quite friendly though. After a bit of investigation, I found out that someone had brought it down from another pub and that it was “his” cat. When he went to leave, he picked the cat up by the scruff, literally threw it in his jacked and marched off. I did think “what a prick” but, as I'm British so very reserved, didn't say anything to him. Before I finished my cigarette, though, he had thrown the thing back in the pub on his way off to god knows where.
Now, as always when you get a slightly odd situation in a pub, a roomful of men dissect and over analyse it. It all adds to the drama. We decided it didn't know where it was, as when all the humans went away the cat continued to just chill out outside. We decided it wasn't local to the pub (well, local in cat terms...) as nobody had seen it before. We therefore decided that the guy who had grabbed it and brought it down was in fact that much of an assclown that he grabbed a random cat. Come to think about it, yesterday when I mentioned that someone should do something I was told “I wouldn't, he will burn your house down.” Nice guy, then.
I considered bringing it home, but then thought better of it. It might have wandered home, it didn't seem in too much danger of being hit by a car and seeing as I was staying with my parents I didn't think they would like having this random cat brought home. Plus, we only put the family cat down last week. Too soon, man, too soon...
Anyway, I was last one out the pub. I suppose that is pretty normal really. I said goodbye to the cat, stuck in my headphones and began the walk back home. Except, when I stopped and got to the main road, I saw this little thing dart along the street. The sodding cat had followed me. I thought, as I was walking in the direction from which it was earlier snatched, it was just on it's way home. Except when I crossed the road, so did it. And when I walked down my road, so did it. It was most definitely following me. When I got to within about 30 metres of my house I was sure that it did not belong to anyone down my street and that it was for the best if I just brought the little critter back to mine. It happily followed me, and was in the front door as soon as I opened it.
Now, I had a decision to make. I had this random, strange cat follow me home. What the hell do you do? Looking at it, it had been well fed, although it showed a few signs of recent weight loss. I decided to chuck the thing some food and then went about my business. It seemed happy to chill out in the house. It unlocked the cat flap and it even went out and came back in.
By the time I went to sleep, I had shut it in the kitchen so it could get outside but not get around the rest of the house. In the morning, it was gone. I assumed it had gotten over being grabbed and yanked by the cuff, had some food and just sort of catted off somewhere.
Yesterday afternoon, however, the thing turfed back up. My dad instantly recognised the thing as a local cat who used to both play with the old family cat and sometimes sneak in and try to steal our old cat's food. Safe in the knowledge it was local, we just ignored it and thought it would go home at some point when it got hungry.
Except, it didn't. It hung around all evening. And all night. I heard it meowing when I went to sleep, and when I woke up this morning I heard it meow again. It hadn't been anywhere but our front door step. Taking pity on it, we gave it some food. It had been there all night and, although I don't exactly want the thing keeping on coming back, felt sorry for it.
Anyway, that's pretty much it. TL;DR - This damned cat followed me home and is trying to move in. Tomorrow we'll call the RSPCA and get some advice. Might even see if they will send an officer to give it a scan and see if it's chipped (no collar, you see). Assuming that nobody has reported the thing missing to the RSPCA, which they may well have done as it would have been missing since Friday afternoon, we will see if it can be identified. Failing that, we'll leave it with them.
Then, we get a really effed up decision. What happens if nobody claims him or an owner can't be found? Do... do we keep it?
Sort of nothingy post I know, but all weekend has been focused around this darn cat.
On Friday, I didn't get done working till rather late. By that point, I couldn't be jacked to go and have a proper night out so I just made like a sad old man and walked up to the local pub for a few beers.
All seemed perfectly normal, I said hello to a few people and meandered outside for a cigarette. While outside doing my bestest to shorten my lifespan, I noticed a ginger cat chilling in the smoking area. Now, I hadn't ever seen this cat before in my life. It seemed quite friendly though. After a bit of investigation, I found out that someone had brought it down from another pub and that it was “his” cat. When he went to leave, he picked the cat up by the scruff, literally threw it in his jacked and marched off. I did think “what a prick” but, as I'm British so very reserved, didn't say anything to him. Before I finished my cigarette, though, he had thrown the thing back in the pub on his way off to god knows where.
Now, as always when you get a slightly odd situation in a pub, a roomful of men dissect and over analyse it. It all adds to the drama. We decided it didn't know where it was, as when all the humans went away the cat continued to just chill out outside. We decided it wasn't local to the pub (well, local in cat terms...) as nobody had seen it before. We therefore decided that the guy who had grabbed it and brought it down was in fact that much of an assclown that he grabbed a random cat. Come to think about it, yesterday when I mentioned that someone should do something I was told “I wouldn't, he will burn your house down.” Nice guy, then.
I considered bringing it home, but then thought better of it. It might have wandered home, it didn't seem in too much danger of being hit by a car and seeing as I was staying with my parents I didn't think they would like having this random cat brought home. Plus, we only put the family cat down last week. Too soon, man, too soon...
Anyway, I was last one out the pub. I suppose that is pretty normal really. I said goodbye to the cat, stuck in my headphones and began the walk back home. Except, when I stopped and got to the main road, I saw this little thing dart along the street. The sodding cat had followed me. I thought, as I was walking in the direction from which it was earlier snatched, it was just on it's way home. Except when I crossed the road, so did it. And when I walked down my road, so did it. It was most definitely following me. When I got to within about 30 metres of my house I was sure that it did not belong to anyone down my street and that it was for the best if I just brought the little critter back to mine. It happily followed me, and was in the front door as soon as I opened it.
Now, I had a decision to make. I had this random, strange cat follow me home. What the hell do you do? Looking at it, it had been well fed, although it showed a few signs of recent weight loss. I decided to chuck the thing some food and then went about my business. It seemed happy to chill out in the house. It unlocked the cat flap and it even went out and came back in.
By the time I went to sleep, I had shut it in the kitchen so it could get outside but not get around the rest of the house. In the morning, it was gone. I assumed it had gotten over being grabbed and yanked by the cuff, had some food and just sort of catted off somewhere.
Yesterday afternoon, however, the thing turfed back up. My dad instantly recognised the thing as a local cat who used to both play with the old family cat and sometimes sneak in and try to steal our old cat's food. Safe in the knowledge it was local, we just ignored it and thought it would go home at some point when it got hungry.
Except, it didn't. It hung around all evening. And all night. I heard it meowing when I went to sleep, and when I woke up this morning I heard it meow again. It hadn't been anywhere but our front door step. Taking pity on it, we gave it some food. It had been there all night and, although I don't exactly want the thing keeping on coming back, felt sorry for it.
Anyway, that's pretty much it. TL;DR - This damned cat followed me home and is trying to move in. Tomorrow we'll call the RSPCA and get some advice. Might even see if they will send an officer to give it a scan and see if it's chipped (no collar, you see). Assuming that nobody has reported the thing missing to the RSPCA, which they may well have done as it would have been missing since Friday afternoon, we will see if it can be identified. Failing that, we'll leave it with them.
Then, we get a really effed up decision. What happens if nobody claims him or an owner can't be found? Do... do we keep it?
Sort of nothingy post I know, but all weekend has been focused around this darn cat.
Thursday, 3 December 2009
How To Keep An Aquarium; Simple Do's and Do Not's
As I pointed out in Tuesday's outing here, in a vague attempt to keep me from going completely off my rocker I bought an aquarium. Before we go any further, yes I am aware that that is serial killer logic. Anyway, I bought it because it's quite nice to be able to stop working for 20 minutes or so a day and go and preen over it. It is quite relaxing, mildly therapeutic and the tank itself looks kick ass.
However, that is what it is like today. I got the thing at the end of October and only just now is it behaving itself. Up until recently I have had cats, some of my best friends have dogs and a few people I know have horses. Let me tell you something, none of those animals require half as much attention as a sodding fish tank.
Now, I admit I should have probably done some research before I henced forth with the aquarium lifestyle, but I'm a bit of a dullard. When I picked up the tank, I thought it would be as simple as buying the tank, filling it up with water and chucking fish in it, throwing some food in every day and cleaning it from time to time. Oh how wrong I was.
You have to play the chemist by preening over the thing and checking water chemical levels, you have to add bacteria and check on the health of your fish, you have to change the water and clean it religiously, you have to clean out the filter, make sure the heater is working and all sorts. It is more needy than a child.
So, for anyone out there who feels like buying an aquarium would be a good life move, please look at my simple “Do and Don't” list. It will likely save your life one day, son.
DO buy a big tank. They are a tad more expensive, but they are also a metric fuckload easier to keep. With a smaller tank, any chemical imbalance will show itself much, much quicker and kill off all your fish.
DON'T listen to people at a big old chain store for advice. Most garden centres have an aquatics bit that employs people who actually know about fish, not just morons who manage not to poop themselves in public.
DO, however, buy your big items such as the tank and gravel from a large chain pet shop. They will be considerably cheaper than any small aquatics shop.
DO read absolutely everything there is to read about the Nitrogen Cycle – the process that turns ammonia (aka poop) into nitrites (aka deadly poison) into nitrates (aka not so deadly poison). Establishing that cycle properly, and this is isn't an over reaction, will be the difference between whether your tank lives.... or dies.
DON'T put too many fish in at once. The more fish means the more poop means the more bacteria you will need. And let me tell you something, that stuff takes bloody ages to grow. In the meanwhile, while it is growing your fish will be being made rather unwell.
DO, wherever possible, steal the insides of someone's filter. A lot of the friendly bacteria you will need is on those pads, so if you can either nick one off a friend or puppy dog eye a shop into giving one to you, do it. Take that bad boy home and shove it in your filter along with the existing media.
DO find a friend who keeps the same sort of fish as you. Whether it be being able to have of their filter media to taking baby fish that they don't have room for in order to stock your tank cheaply, they will be invaluable.
DON'T buy fish based on how big they are when you buy them, get them based on how big they will get. Yesterday I really wanted to buy this cute little 'shark' type fish, until the knowledgeable man pointed out that it would eventually be so big it would struggle to fit in my tank..
DO buy fish according to their needs – some need a big shoal, some can only have one male to a tank and some need lots of females around.
DO buy a good water-chemical testing kit. Decent drop kits are £12ish per chemical you need to test for, but each will do you for well over a year.
As this has already gone from being funny to being a public service announcement, let me give you the simple 4 step guide to fish keeping
If in doubt about anything at all, ask someone who knows their stuff. Much like driving and sex, everyone has to have an uncomfortable and unceremonious first time.
However, that is what it is like today. I got the thing at the end of October and only just now is it behaving itself. Up until recently I have had cats, some of my best friends have dogs and a few people I know have horses. Let me tell you something, none of those animals require half as much attention as a sodding fish tank.
Now, I admit I should have probably done some research before I henced forth with the aquarium lifestyle, but I'm a bit of a dullard. When I picked up the tank, I thought it would be as simple as buying the tank, filling it up with water and chucking fish in it, throwing some food in every day and cleaning it from time to time. Oh how wrong I was.
You have to play the chemist by preening over the thing and checking water chemical levels, you have to add bacteria and check on the health of your fish, you have to change the water and clean it religiously, you have to clean out the filter, make sure the heater is working and all sorts. It is more needy than a child.
So, for anyone out there who feels like buying an aquarium would be a good life move, please look at my simple “Do and Don't” list. It will likely save your life one day, son.
DO buy a big tank. They are a tad more expensive, but they are also a metric fuckload easier to keep. With a smaller tank, any chemical imbalance will show itself much, much quicker and kill off all your fish.
DON'T listen to people at a big old chain store for advice. Most garden centres have an aquatics bit that employs people who actually know about fish, not just morons who manage not to poop themselves in public.
DO, however, buy your big items such as the tank and gravel from a large chain pet shop. They will be considerably cheaper than any small aquatics shop.
DO read absolutely everything there is to read about the Nitrogen Cycle – the process that turns ammonia (aka poop) into nitrites (aka deadly poison) into nitrates (aka not so deadly poison). Establishing that cycle properly, and this is isn't an over reaction, will be the difference between whether your tank lives.... or dies.
DON'T put too many fish in at once. The more fish means the more poop means the more bacteria you will need. And let me tell you something, that stuff takes bloody ages to grow. In the meanwhile, while it is growing your fish will be being made rather unwell.
DO, wherever possible, steal the insides of someone's filter. A lot of the friendly bacteria you will need is on those pads, so if you can either nick one off a friend or puppy dog eye a shop into giving one to you, do it. Take that bad boy home and shove it in your filter along with the existing media.
DO find a friend who keeps the same sort of fish as you. Whether it be being able to have of their filter media to taking baby fish that they don't have room for in order to stock your tank cheaply, they will be invaluable.
DON'T buy fish based on how big they are when you buy them, get them based on how big they will get. Yesterday I really wanted to buy this cute little 'shark' type fish, until the knowledgeable man pointed out that it would eventually be so big it would struggle to fit in my tank..
DO buy fish according to their needs – some need a big shoal, some can only have one male to a tank and some need lots of females around.
DO buy a good water-chemical testing kit. Decent drop kits are £12ish per chemical you need to test for, but each will do you for well over a year.
As this has already gone from being funny to being a public service announcement, let me give you the simple 4 step guide to fish keeping
- Buy an aquarium, put in a shit load of gravel and your decorations, fill it with water, turn on the filter and heater and leave it be
- Wait 5 days, buy some water drop kits and a few hardy fish. I recommend 3 Swordtails (2 females, one male). Oh, and always add a product to the water that takes out the chlorine and other crap.
- Feed them sparingly and check your water chemicals every day, adding bacteria booster as per the instructions. First the ammonia will spike, then the nitrites. If at any point you get over 2ppm of either, or a bacteria bloom (it will look like someone threw milk in your tank), do a 50% water change.
- When both ammonia and nitrites have spiked and gone back down, add a few more fish at a time. After each addition, both readings will go back up and come back down.
If in doubt about anything at all, ask someone who knows their stuff. Much like driving and sex, everyone has to have an uncomfortable and unceremonious first time.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Things I Do To Keep Myself Sane
When people ask me what it's like working from home, I tell them that it is better than being thrown groin first into an oily pit of supermodels. I don't have a boss looking over my shoulder, I don't have to get up at a set time so long as I stick 10 hours a day in and I don't have to commute anywhere further than down the hall and downstairs.
In actuality, it's pretty dull. I don't have co-workers to chat to. I don't have a boss to hate on. I just sit at my desk with a justin.tv stream going all day and mainly churn out press releases and short web content articles that don't allow for dick jokes. When you also factor in that I can often go for a few days without actually leaving the house, you get a pretty solid picture of my life. I call it the 'struggling writer' lifestyle, where as many others call it the 'sad sack' one.
To combat this, I've build up a number of protocols to keep my from bouncing off the walls in sheer madness. The 3 I use most are -
1) Facebook
I hate Facebook with all my soul. I hate the fact that it makes me feel self conscious that I only have 200 friends. The fact that I actually know all 200 of the people and could easily invite them out for a beer is neither here nor there. I also only have 98 photos. I just don't take a digital camera with me on nights out and cannot be bothered to edit, label and tag entire reams of photos.
However, I find myself increasingly using it to talk to people. Back in the day, everyone used to use MSN Messenger. Today, I have about 9 people who are still old school and are logged on at times. Therefore, I am left with little option but to log on to Facebook if I want human interaction. I hate it, it makes it look like I enjoy Facebook. Also, it makes it look like I do nothing all day as I'm always on Facebook.
2) Fish
I bought an aquarium. I will admit, I am a little bit of a fan of various animals and figured that buying an aquarium would give me something to do. Where as in an office, people often go outside and smoke or make rounds of tea to take a break, I have no such luck. I can smoke at my desk and I don't like tea. Obviously, the logical thing to do to get me away from my desk for 10 minutes at a time was to buy an aquarium to tend to.
I regret nothing. Sure, it costs £150 odd to set up a decent tank and put fish in it, but it is tremendous fun. One of my fish is even named after Nat Coombs, the guy who hosts the NFL On Five coverage after a few emails got read out on air. I recommend fish keeping to everyone and will probably write an idiots guide to fish keeping on Thursday.
3) Taking The Laptop To The Pub
I admit that this is probably cheating a bit, but it works. Although a vast majority of my time is spent doing jobs for other people, I do try to make sure I have at least a day a week where I don't have to do any paid work so I can work on my own stuff. Along with churning out some gibbering rubbish here thrice a week, I write a fair old bit of stuff that doesn't see the light of day straight away. I've got one book manuscript that is doing the rounds until someones decides to recognise my genius and publish it, I'm a solid start into another and I'm also working on a charity book.
For all of these things, I don't need the Internet, email and such. Nor does it matter if I'm under the influence while writing them, as I edit my work to a stupid degree at times. So I pack up my laptop and head off to the pub.
Speaking of which, it is beer o'clock. See ya'll later!
In actuality, it's pretty dull. I don't have co-workers to chat to. I don't have a boss to hate on. I just sit at my desk with a justin.tv stream going all day and mainly churn out press releases and short web content articles that don't allow for dick jokes. When you also factor in that I can often go for a few days without actually leaving the house, you get a pretty solid picture of my life. I call it the 'struggling writer' lifestyle, where as many others call it the 'sad sack' one.
To combat this, I've build up a number of protocols to keep my from bouncing off the walls in sheer madness. The 3 I use most are -
1) Facebook
I hate Facebook with all my soul. I hate the fact that it makes me feel self conscious that I only have 200 friends. The fact that I actually know all 200 of the people and could easily invite them out for a beer is neither here nor there. I also only have 98 photos. I just don't take a digital camera with me on nights out and cannot be bothered to edit, label and tag entire reams of photos.
However, I find myself increasingly using it to talk to people. Back in the day, everyone used to use MSN Messenger. Today, I have about 9 people who are still old school and are logged on at times. Therefore, I am left with little option but to log on to Facebook if I want human interaction. I hate it, it makes it look like I enjoy Facebook. Also, it makes it look like I do nothing all day as I'm always on Facebook.
2) Fish
I bought an aquarium. I will admit, I am a little bit of a fan of various animals and figured that buying an aquarium would give me something to do. Where as in an office, people often go outside and smoke or make rounds of tea to take a break, I have no such luck. I can smoke at my desk and I don't like tea. Obviously, the logical thing to do to get me away from my desk for 10 minutes at a time was to buy an aquarium to tend to.
I regret nothing. Sure, it costs £150 odd to set up a decent tank and put fish in it, but it is tremendous fun. One of my fish is even named after Nat Coombs, the guy who hosts the NFL On Five coverage after a few emails got read out on air. I recommend fish keeping to everyone and will probably write an idiots guide to fish keeping on Thursday.
3) Taking The Laptop To The Pub
I admit that this is probably cheating a bit, but it works. Although a vast majority of my time is spent doing jobs for other people, I do try to make sure I have at least a day a week where I don't have to do any paid work so I can work on my own stuff. Along with churning out some gibbering rubbish here thrice a week, I write a fair old bit of stuff that doesn't see the light of day straight away. I've got one book manuscript that is doing the rounds until someones decides to recognise my genius and publish it, I'm a solid start into another and I'm also working on a charity book.
For all of these things, I don't need the Internet, email and such. Nor does it matter if I'm under the influence while writing them, as I edit my work to a stupid degree at times. So I pack up my laptop and head off to the pub.
Speaking of which, it is beer o'clock. See ya'll later!
Sunday, 29 November 2009
There is something wrong about buying Miley Cyrus things late at night
I saw the weirdest person ever on Friday night.
I know that an awful lot of the general population out there are certifiable nutjobs. I'm sure that I'm probably one of them. But on Friday I managed to see the person who is quite possibly the freakiest one out there.
I didn't really want to spend any money on Friday as I had a pricey one planned for Saturday, so I just trundled round to my buddy's place to chill out, play some video games and the like. Come midnight, the inevitable trip to a Supermarket took place.
I must confess, if I have to go shopping I do go late at night. I hate everything to do with supermarkets during the daytime. I hate the traffic to even get in the car park. I hate driving around for 10 minutes until you end up parking in a part of the car park that must be in another post code. I hate walking all the way to the front door past dozens of now empty spaces. I hate all the people in there. I hate queing to pay. I hate then having to lug it all back to my car and I hate that at least one item will go off while I'm stuck in traffic on the way back home.
At night, you can get in and out inside 10 minutes flat. It is brilliant. Except, you don't half get some right weirdos. In a way it is just downright hilarious, and in others you really do fear for the human race.
Although this time I wasn't doing the full midnight shop, I still went through enough of the shop to see some of the wack jobs. One, though, took the cake.
I was thumbing through some Xbox games with my mate, as one oft does at midnight, when this guy dressed all in black wandered into the section. He looked a little bit like a sleazy Michael McIntyre, and had the full long black coat, black suit, black shoes and black shirt and tie job going on. He then proceeded to buy a fistful of Hannah Montana (aka everyone's favourite jailbait Miley Cyrus) CD's and wander off.
This creeped me the hell out. I know that there is probably something a psychiatrist could read into about me looking for cheap video games in a supermarket at midnight, but someone who looks like they want to be a hitman in a gangster movie buying products aimed at 12 year olds must take the biscuit.
Now, for a gratuitous picture and we are done...
I know that an awful lot of the general population out there are certifiable nutjobs. I'm sure that I'm probably one of them. But on Friday I managed to see the person who is quite possibly the freakiest one out there.
I didn't really want to spend any money on Friday as I had a pricey one planned for Saturday, so I just trundled round to my buddy's place to chill out, play some video games and the like. Come midnight, the inevitable trip to a Supermarket took place.
I must confess, if I have to go shopping I do go late at night. I hate everything to do with supermarkets during the daytime. I hate the traffic to even get in the car park. I hate driving around for 10 minutes until you end up parking in a part of the car park that must be in another post code. I hate walking all the way to the front door past dozens of now empty spaces. I hate all the people in there. I hate queing to pay. I hate then having to lug it all back to my car and I hate that at least one item will go off while I'm stuck in traffic on the way back home.
At night, you can get in and out inside 10 minutes flat. It is brilliant. Except, you don't half get some right weirdos. In a way it is just downright hilarious, and in others you really do fear for the human race.
Although this time I wasn't doing the full midnight shop, I still went through enough of the shop to see some of the wack jobs. One, though, took the cake.
I was thumbing through some Xbox games with my mate, as one oft does at midnight, when this guy dressed all in black wandered into the section. He looked a little bit like a sleazy Michael McIntyre, and had the full long black coat, black suit, black shoes and black shirt and tie job going on. He then proceeded to buy a fistful of Hannah Montana (aka everyone's favourite jailbait Miley Cyrus) CD's and wander off.
This creeped me the hell out. I know that there is probably something a psychiatrist could read into about me looking for cheap video games in a supermarket at midnight, but someone who looks like they want to be a hitman in a gangster movie buying products aimed at 12 year olds must take the biscuit.
Now, for a gratuitous picture and we are done...
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Tony Blair Reveals Self Doubt On Eve Of Iraq War
(This is a piece which unfortunately was not deemed newsworthy enough to make The Daily Hubbub, however another piece of mine was. Check it out!)
Blair's Self Doubt On War Eve Revealed
One of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair's closest aides has revealed that on what turned out to be the eve of the invasion of Iraq, the former Premier had suffered from serious doubts over his bedroom performance with 'wife' Cherie.
Foreign Office official and noted sex therapy author Sir William Ehrman has revealed to the inquiry being held to investigate Blair's bedroom shenanigans that the then PM used to feel terrible fear and inadequacy before he crossed the threshold.
“Oh yeah, the guy used to have some serious hang ups about his performance,” said Sir William after the inquiry chairperson bought him his third pint.
“He used to worry that this big Scottish idiot was trying to push him down flights of stairs, that his special friend George was bigger and better than him and, well, have you seen what he had to go upstairs to?”
“So I asked him what had changed since he was able to fertilise his 'wife' with alarming regularity.”
Mr Blair, who was little more than an unemployed musician before being adopted by the Labour Party, revealed that he had always thrived on the confidence that only street urchin musicians held.
“So I said to him, what is better for building up your self confidence than picking on a smaller person who doesn't really deserve it? I thought he was just going to try to gag Ian Hislop, but it turns out he took it a bit far,” added Sir William.
“I mean, I'm sure invading Iraq was one hell of an aphrodisiac intelligence shows that egging the Lib Dem headquarters would have had the same effect.”
“Now,” finished Sir William after swapping from pints to shorts, “for a golden egg and large black pudding, I'll show you what really happened that weekend at Balmoral.”
Blair's Self Doubt On War Eve Revealed
One of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair's closest aides has revealed that on what turned out to be the eve of the invasion of Iraq, the former Premier had suffered from serious doubts over his bedroom performance with 'wife' Cherie.
Foreign Office official and noted sex therapy author Sir William Ehrman has revealed to the inquiry being held to investigate Blair's bedroom shenanigans that the then PM used to feel terrible fear and inadequacy before he crossed the threshold.
“Oh yeah, the guy used to have some serious hang ups about his performance,” said Sir William after the inquiry chairperson bought him his third pint.
“He used to worry that this big Scottish idiot was trying to push him down flights of stairs, that his special friend George was bigger and better than him and, well, have you seen what he had to go upstairs to?”
“So I asked him what had changed since he was able to fertilise his 'wife' with alarming regularity.”
Mr Blair, who was little more than an unemployed musician before being adopted by the Labour Party, revealed that he had always thrived on the confidence that only street urchin musicians held.
“So I said to him, what is better for building up your self confidence than picking on a smaller person who doesn't really deserve it? I thought he was just going to try to gag Ian Hislop, but it turns out he took it a bit far,” added Sir William.
“I mean, I'm sure invading Iraq was one hell of an aphrodisiac intelligence shows that egging the Lib Dem headquarters would have had the same effect.”
“Now,” finished Sir William after swapping from pints to shorts, “for a golden egg and large black pudding, I'll show you what really happened that weekend at Balmoral.”
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Defending The Diva
In a very backwards way, I think I'm about to try to start defending diva-ish behaviour. I know, I know...
Some diva behaviour is a tad extreme. Assuming that The Sun tells absolutely no lies whatsoever in any way, shape or form then when Mariah Carey went on This Morning the other day, it was bedlam. Amongst the highlights of her appearance were the fact that she had an entourage larger than the crew that made the show and had someone walk backwards in front of her with their arms outstretched to catch her in case she tripped. You really do have to be a special blend of bat shit crazy to achieve that.
Oh, and while we are on the subject of Mariah, I heard a rumour about her. As it was a rumour that I can't even remember the source, of must be true as well. This rumour goes that during the inauguration of President Barak Obama, Carey through a huge strop when she found out that she would only be sat with the other VIPs at the event. Turns out, when she was invited as a special guest she thought that she would be sat up on the stage practically holding Obama's hand as he made his pledge.
Anyway, that sort of diva behaviour is simply ridiculous. No matter how big, famous and important you are there is never a justification to have the air temperature in a venue altered to be exactly what you demand it to be. There is no clause that says you cannot go on stage unless all of the lime Wine Gum's are taken out back and shot. Basically, there is no excuse for demanding a service before you perform which is either the metaphorical or literal interpenetration of getting the person in charge to clean your behind for you.
However, with all the over the top tomfoolery of stereotypical requests like a bowl of M'n'Ms with all the blue ones removed or a hooker without an STD aside, there is some merit in wanting this stuff.
At the end of the day, the sole purpose of anyone working in a creative performance job, where the product you put out there is purely there for the enjoyment of the audience, is to stick out a piece of work that the paying punters enjoy. And to do that, you have to have a happy little performer who is pleased as punch to be there. Having a grouchy little bee-hatch is just not good for business.
I will admit that for the last few days, I have not written a single solitary word. This has annoyed a few editors no end, but I don't care. I just haven't been in the mood. I won't bore you with the details, but I've spent most of the last few days in the foetal position feeling a little sorry for myself. Today I woke up and the sun seemed a little brighter. So, I'm writing.
I suppose the point of all of this rambling goes thusly – Although a lot of the demands that some celebrities and certain 'divas' put in are highly unnecessary, there is a point to it all. It is whatever they need to perform at their best. Like it or lump it, I'm sure anyone who is parting with their hard earned cash to see them would rather know that the performer had all of their needs pampered and would put on a belting show than not be fed their duck egg omelette and have the right hump.
That is my case, your honour. It may not be the best, and is definitely very one sided, but it's all I got. The defence rests.
Some diva behaviour is a tad extreme. Assuming that The Sun tells absolutely no lies whatsoever in any way, shape or form then when Mariah Carey went on This Morning the other day, it was bedlam. Amongst the highlights of her appearance were the fact that she had an entourage larger than the crew that made the show and had someone walk backwards in front of her with their arms outstretched to catch her in case she tripped. You really do have to be a special blend of bat shit crazy to achieve that.
Oh, and while we are on the subject of Mariah, I heard a rumour about her. As it was a rumour that I can't even remember the source, of must be true as well. This rumour goes that during the inauguration of President Barak Obama, Carey through a huge strop when she found out that she would only be sat with the other VIPs at the event. Turns out, when she was invited as a special guest she thought that she would be sat up on the stage practically holding Obama's hand as he made his pledge.
Anyway, that sort of diva behaviour is simply ridiculous. No matter how big, famous and important you are there is never a justification to have the air temperature in a venue altered to be exactly what you demand it to be. There is no clause that says you cannot go on stage unless all of the lime Wine Gum's are taken out back and shot. Basically, there is no excuse for demanding a service before you perform which is either the metaphorical or literal interpenetration of getting the person in charge to clean your behind for you.
However, with all the over the top tomfoolery of stereotypical requests like a bowl of M'n'Ms with all the blue ones removed or a hooker without an STD aside, there is some merit in wanting this stuff.
At the end of the day, the sole purpose of anyone working in a creative performance job, where the product you put out there is purely there for the enjoyment of the audience, is to stick out a piece of work that the paying punters enjoy. And to do that, you have to have a happy little performer who is pleased as punch to be there. Having a grouchy little bee-hatch is just not good for business.
I will admit that for the last few days, I have not written a single solitary word. This has annoyed a few editors no end, but I don't care. I just haven't been in the mood. I won't bore you with the details, but I've spent most of the last few days in the foetal position feeling a little sorry for myself. Today I woke up and the sun seemed a little brighter. So, I'm writing.
I suppose the point of all of this rambling goes thusly – Although a lot of the demands that some celebrities and certain 'divas' put in are highly unnecessary, there is a point to it all. It is whatever they need to perform at their best. Like it or lump it, I'm sure anyone who is parting with their hard earned cash to see them would rather know that the performer had all of their needs pampered and would put on a belting show than not be fed their duck egg omelette and have the right hump.
That is my case, your honour. It may not be the best, and is definitely very one sided, but it's all I got. The defence rests.
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Handball Havoc
In a very backwards way, I think that Thierry Henry's hand ball against Ireland might be good for the sport. I know, I know... hear me out.
When it first happened, I was one of the millions who were baying for the French teams blood, screaming that it should be replayed and that Henry deserved to be hung, drawn and quartered. I crossed my fingers and hoped that FIFA would grant it, but no. They stuck by the actual laws of the game, didn't give in to pressure and France are off to South Africa while Irishmen around the globe cheer whoever are playing them.
After giving it a few days and allowing the knee jerk reaction to lull, I suppose that the decision was correct. It wasn't a full technical error, such as in the match with Uzbekistan and Bahrain where the ref gave a free kick instead of allowing a penalty to be retaken. It was human error. You cannot replay games based on human error, now matter how blazingly obvious and catastrophic it may be.
Although football fans around the world like to vilify refs as sub-human robots, they are normal people. They make mistakes. We have all made a big old cock up at some point or another. Last year I changed the radio station and in the two seconds I looked away from the road, drove up the back of a really nice BMW. That was a catastrophic cock up.
But you know what isn't human? Video replay technology. These days in football, you just can't rely on humans to make these massive decisions. You cannot. There is too much at stake financially. Plus, the refs take a massive bashing these days. It would be good to take some heat off of them.
The neigh sayers always bleat on about how it would disrupt the game, about how playing the ref is a part of it and how it would be too radical. But, of course, I know how it can be done
Do it like the NHL. They don't have a replay system like in Rugby or Cricket where it is all in house as, like it would in football, it would be used too rarely to justify such expense. They have a 'War Room' at NHL headquarters. A ref phones it in, confirms the play to be reviewed, they look at it and give the response. In football, unless you want to start a clock-stopping type protocol, you could just give the referees 90 seconds to overturn a decision, adding 90 seconds on extra time.
At least that is how I'd do it. Then a lot of the human errors in football would hopefully disappear.
When it first happened, I was one of the millions who were baying for the French teams blood, screaming that it should be replayed and that Henry deserved to be hung, drawn and quartered. I crossed my fingers and hoped that FIFA would grant it, but no. They stuck by the actual laws of the game, didn't give in to pressure and France are off to South Africa while Irishmen around the globe cheer whoever are playing them.
After giving it a few days and allowing the knee jerk reaction to lull, I suppose that the decision was correct. It wasn't a full technical error, such as in the match with Uzbekistan and Bahrain where the ref gave a free kick instead of allowing a penalty to be retaken. It was human error. You cannot replay games based on human error, now matter how blazingly obvious and catastrophic it may be.
Although football fans around the world like to vilify refs as sub-human robots, they are normal people. They make mistakes. We have all made a big old cock up at some point or another. Last year I changed the radio station and in the two seconds I looked away from the road, drove up the back of a really nice BMW. That was a catastrophic cock up.
But you know what isn't human? Video replay technology. These days in football, you just can't rely on humans to make these massive decisions. You cannot. There is too much at stake financially. Plus, the refs take a massive bashing these days. It would be good to take some heat off of them.
The neigh sayers always bleat on about how it would disrupt the game, about how playing the ref is a part of it and how it would be too radical. But, of course, I know how it can be done
Do it like the NHL. They don't have a replay system like in Rugby or Cricket where it is all in house as, like it would in football, it would be used too rarely to justify such expense. They have a 'War Room' at NHL headquarters. A ref phones it in, confirms the play to be reviewed, they look at it and give the response. In football, unless you want to start a clock-stopping type protocol, you could just give the referees 90 seconds to overturn a decision, adding 90 seconds on extra time.
At least that is how I'd do it. Then a lot of the human errors in football would hopefully disappear.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
No post today. Sorry about that....
....it's just that I've been cursed with having to do some real, paid work. Have a funny picture and I'll see you Sunday.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
I want a Lego Death Star
I want to be able to play with Lego again. I don't care if it is hugely age inappropriate, I don't care if it is a little bit serial killer-ish and I don't care if it makes me a geek. I want some to play with.
I was shopping with one of my friends the other week and we had to make a bee line in to a toy store as it was her six year old God Daughter's birthday the week after. Now I am a rubbish shopper and when asked 'What about this?' in relation to various pink and sparkly things, I just sort of shrugged and muttered whatever response I deemed most appropriate and shuffled around.
However, when we ended up in the Lego department after some significant meanderings through the store, I was spellbound. As I said, I don't care if it is a bit sad, I think Lego is the single coolest toy in the history of ever. And that got me thinking a little bit.
I didn't really want anything for Xmas. I know that usually Christmas is a good time of year to try to secure that one thing that you want but just flat out won't buy for yourself, but I don't care. I've been living my dream since earlier this year when I gave up on a rubbish job market to chase a stupid pipe dream, and at the risk of sounding sappy and slightly emo, have awesome friends and family who have supported me. I thought that was enough, and that was all I wanted for Christmas.
Then after all of this, I realised I really want the Lego Death Star. Screw nice friends and family, how geek-chic would it be to have a massive Lego Death Star in your room? I mean, it would just rule. Plus I have enough guitars up there that I don't think it would be a deal breaker.
So that is what I want for Christmas. If anyone wants to buy it for me, I won't complain.
I was shopping with one of my friends the other week and we had to make a bee line in to a toy store as it was her six year old God Daughter's birthday the week after. Now I am a rubbish shopper and when asked 'What about this?' in relation to various pink and sparkly things, I just sort of shrugged and muttered whatever response I deemed most appropriate and shuffled around.
However, when we ended up in the Lego department after some significant meanderings through the store, I was spellbound. As I said, I don't care if it is a bit sad, I think Lego is the single coolest toy in the history of ever. And that got me thinking a little bit.
I didn't really want anything for Xmas. I know that usually Christmas is a good time of year to try to secure that one thing that you want but just flat out won't buy for yourself, but I don't care. I've been living my dream since earlier this year when I gave up on a rubbish job market to chase a stupid pipe dream, and at the risk of sounding sappy and slightly emo, have awesome friends and family who have supported me. I thought that was enough, and that was all I wanted for Christmas.
Then after all of this, I realised I really want the Lego Death Star. Screw nice friends and family, how geek-chic would it be to have a massive Lego Death Star in your room? I mean, it would just rule. Plus I have enough guitars up there that I don't think it would be a deal breaker.
So that is what I want for Christmas. If anyone wants to buy it for me, I won't complain.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
14 Hours Of Sport Recap
Right, so here is the lo-down. For roughly some 16 hours I watched sport on Saturday. And I recorded some running thoughts as the day and the beer progressed. Here they are. Imagine this like a Twitter feed, except I've blogged it as I have like one follower and I think they are just some Eastern European porn site spambot.
Here are my thoughts from throughout the day. If you like, I'll do another on an NFL Sunday.
2:35pm – Is it me or are England just not very good at rugby any more? Well we are but we are just the worst good team ever.
2:37pm – Oh Cueto... if only you weren't so fumbly.
2:57pm – Lewis Moody is playing like his sex is on fire and tackling the Argies is the only relief he can get.
3:41pm – What happened to smash mouth England rugby? Maybe we should try to find out seeing as out kicking game is absolutely rubbish...
4:00pm – So where has THAT form been all day!? What a try
4:24pm – Bit of culture on the Rugby – Ludivicio Enaudi on the outro music. Yes, I know I spelt his name wrong. Sue me.
4:34pm – I can tell you now that the Sky interview man nearly got mauled to death by Martin Johnson
4:58pm – Well, that was the rugby. Now on to the football. Let's watch Brazil sacrifice England's second stringers.
5:00pm – Hmm, probably should save this doc at some point. Nice little tribute to Robert Enke, the German keeper who committed suicide at the weekend pre game.
5:13pm – An England defensive mistake!? I don't believe it...
5:35pm – Pretty impressed with the atmosphere in the Qatar stadium. Also, my backside hurts after being sat in the same spot. Only about 12 hours to go... yay...
5:38pm – Good continuity by the ref. He didn't give Brazil a blatant free kick on the edge of the area and just denied England.
6:17pm – Good old England and their defensive cock ups. Good old Brazil and their inability to score penalties.
6:34pm – England look properly rubbish up front. Rooney is getting no service and they don't have a big guy to lob the ball at.
6:50pm – I'm not calling the match boring, but I'm looking at cars, video games and holidays.
7:08pm – Ahh, a small break from my sporting schedule. UFC 105 is up next at 8. Although for some reason, I'm watching Merlin. This concerns me.
8:01pm – Merlin was actually quite good. Luckily, I can rebalance the man-karma by now watching UFC. I really wish they would change their tacky intro video though.
8:02pm – Did Mike Goldberg just say 'beautiful Manchester, England'?
8:05pm – There is something childishly hilarious about the fighters who have 'Condom Depot' on the backside portion of their shorts.
8:08pm – First beer of the night. I am willing to bet it will be nowhere near the last.
8:22pm – Dominating fight by Pearson here. Would be good to see if he can get a KO and go to ground at least once.
8:24pm – Bloody win by TKO for Ross Pearson. That isn't a posh swear word, Riley is bloodied heavily as the doc stops the match.
8:29pm – I love the Twingo advert where the mother is just so glad that her daughter got a job, she doesn't mind that it is as a whore. Sort of actually sums up the modern working climate.
8:32pm – Dammit America! Leicester is pronounced Less-ter not Lie-chester!
8:39pm – One of the fighters has a mouse under their eye. That must be uncomfortable and a bit of a distraction. Oh, it's now a bad mouse. Very bad mouse. Joe Rogan is very worried about it.
8:51pm – I really think that France may not make it past the Republic of Ireland here. Also, Greece have to go to the Ukraine and win to get through. That is unlikely at best.
8:52pm – Really good fight with Matt Brown picking up the W. The bad mouse, who I just learned has recently finished a 3 year stretch in the hole, clearly was on his team.
9:04pm – Apparently, the UFC might contain scenes that some viewers could find disturbing. I know – Joe Rogan only has light stubble, not the full manly beard!
9:10pm – Bisping comes out to Song 2 by Blur. Whenever I hear that song, I just think about FIFA 1998
9:24pm – Atta Boy Bisping! Great come back for the win.
9:44pm – How much product must Dan Hardy use to keep his hair maintained throughout a fight?
9:45pm – Dan Hardy just got kicked in the nuuuuuuts
9:58pm – Is Joe Rogan slurring into a bad British accent at times?
10:16pm – Main event time in the UFC. All of this is being eclipsed by the prospect of Pacman vs Cotto. No matter how good UFC gets, boxing will always be better.
10:29pm – Randy is still a good fighter, I mean he could beat 7 shades of crap out of me, but he just seems to be lacking a little something at the moment. I think his age his finally catching up to him.
10:32pm – And as I said that, he is having the round of the night against Vera.
10:38pm – Not 100% sure on that unanimous decision for Randy. But I think he did win 2-1 round wise. Then again, I rarely guess UFC score cards.
10:40pm – Joe Rogan and Brandon Vera both slag of the judges for that decision without saying it. There is something about the scorecard decisions in a lot of these fights that stink a bit. Quite often they are very shocking. And in a monopoly MMA company that is completely self regulating, it is going to start hurting the company and industry soon. I mean, you can bet on this shit and the judges often seem to have a mind unto themselves. Little bit odd.
10:43pm – I am stopping gambling for the day now. At the start of the day my bankroll was $250. I'm down $100. That is bad times. I've forgotten what a tournament cash or cash table double up feels like.
10:47pm – Just flicked over to the replay of the Haye vs Valuev fight. I never watched it live as I was in London at the time. I also never realised just how quick Haye was.
11:00pm – With the joy of hindsight, I know that Haye won. But the commentators weren't half pessimistic on the night.
11:35pm – First bit of promo came on for the fight tonight. I cannot wait.
00:03am – Not much on the sporting front at the moment. The Haye vs Valuev undercard is whetting my appetite nicely though.
00:26am – Wohoo, live bobsleigh!
00:55pm – As if knowing what is to come in a few hours, ESPN is showing an old Ali fight
1:59am – FINALLY, now we only have to wait for the undercard and it's show time.
2:28am – Why are under card fights so bad? At the moment this is just a contest to see who will either bleed to death or get DQed for ball smacking.
2:48am – I'm sure these prelim fights are good, but I'm just a tad too excited for the main event. A bit like the way a support band is often ace at a concert, but people don't care. Also, I've now moved back to the original position I was in earlier after a brief few hour sojourn to my office. And I've run out of beer. Boo!
2:54am – How the heck can a World Champ only defend his title once a year for 4 years? Also, I found rum. Yay!
3:00am – Looks like Mr. I'm Too Important To Defend My Title is getting his ass handed to him, Hazzar! Also, all the pro's are backing Cotto. He is a beast, but I think Pacquiao will do it. Did I spell his name right?
3:04am – Boxing is the only sport in the world where a guy more cut than 90% of the population is described as a bit 'soft around the middle'.
3:16am – Cotto's boys are watching Pacman get his hands taped. Antonio Margarito, the person who had put the one blemish on Cotto's otherwise perfect professional record, was suspended for illegally wrapping his hands. Apparently, the amount of tape Margarito used equated to having two cinder blocks on his fists. Cotto are making sure Pacman's camp aren't up to any such shennanigans.
3:23am – Daniel Santos is currently being beaten up by a rabbi. True story.
3:28am – I've just realised that I haven't tended to my aquarium today. Poor fish.
3:48am – Chavez Jr isn't old enough to be out this late, never mind be a pro boxer.
3:52am – Why do people always randomly whistle at boxing events...
4:02am – This fight was meant to be a gimmie for Chavez Jr. He is currently behind...
4:03am – I've also resorted to chain smoking to stay awake. Bad times. Not as bad as my buddy, who has resorted to smoking weed to build up for a game. Because we all know that smoking weed makes you be able to stay up late.
4:12am – No, the crowd aren't getting bored of this fight per se. It's more along the lines of 'GIVE US THE MAIN EVENT NOW YOU BASTARDS!'
4:14am – Chavez wouldn't just get bullied by John Duddy. He would get raped. Also, 41 fights at age 23? Bloody hell...
4:23am – I refuse to believe Nicky Piper was ever a boxer. A geography teacher maybe, but not a boxer.
4:29am – Is it weird that I'm not sold on Pacquiao? I mean he beat an old and obviously ill De La Hoya and ripped through a Hatton who was completely undone by a rubbish training camp. Where as Cotto is a beast at this weight who has only lost once, and that may have been due to the illegal hand wrapping we discussed earlier.
4:39am – Out comes Pacquiao, and I reckon already I've spelt his name 4 different ways.
4:48am – Here we go... Cagey stuff from both, but so far Cotto has the edge.
4:50am – First round Cotto I'd say. You can feel the atmosphere bubbling.
4:54am – Round two Pacquiao. For a minute it was close, but in the end Cotto made some mistakes and the Pacman absolutely ravaged each and every one of them.
4:56am – Cotto went down. Not in a major way, but his gloves hit the canvas to steady himself, and that is all you need. Pacman seems to be shrugging off Cotto's big hits.
4:58am – Got to give that one to Pacquiao as well, along with a nice knockdown. 10-8 to Pacman, making it 29-27 to the little man from the Philippines. Although, Pacman looks cocky just standing there and letting Cotto hit him.
5:02am – A very convincing knockdown on Cotto and he is hurt. That was so nearly Cotto's round too, then the little man let loose and floored him with a huge thwack. Cotto keeps doing well, wearing him down then loosing his head, letting loose and getting caught. 10 – 8 again, so 39 – 35 but I tell you now that the scores will be irrelevant.
5:05 – I think I'm going to give this round to Cotto, although I would not by any stretch begrudge anyone giving it to Pacquiao. Or should I give it to Pacman? Lets give it to Cotto and say 48 – 45
5:10 – That round was Pacquiao all over. He so nearly rocked Cotto a few times. 58-54 on my card. Although, the wee man hasn't looked as lively as before. Maybe all that extra weight is pulling on him. Saying that, Cotto is hurting badly all over. I can see a quiet round or two. Now, watch a KO happen...
5:14am – That round was all Pacman. 68 – 63 and Cotto is either going to get KOed or have his corner stop this mess. I have never seen a more dominant fighter than Pacquiao. He will beat Mayweather Jr at this rate. Easily one of the greatest ever. Easily
5:18am – Cotto cannot win this fight now. His punches are impotent, movement slow and he is just taking a beating. Freddie Roach just said 'next round'. Pull Cotto now and save his skin. 78 – 72. That said, I want this to go the distance so I can see how my score cards are doing. I think I'm a point off but close.
5:22am – 88-81. This is now just uncomfortable to watch. If they don't pull Cotto, then Freddie Roach needs to do the right thing and tell Pacquiao to go easy on him. Same as Calzaghe did against Jones Jr.
5:26am – Another Pacman round making it 98 – 90. Either Pacquiao is taking my advice and going easy on Cotto, knowing his corner won't pull him and having no wish to hurt his fellow boxer or Pacman is hurting. I'm not sure which it is, although I'm willing to bet Pacquiao knows that even Cotto doesn't have enough for one more big punch left in him.
5:30am – The crown begin to boo as the fight winds down. You know, I'm actually giving that round to Cotto. It may have been back foot boxing but he was better I thought. 107 – 100. Final round coming up, and I don't think Pacquiao will inflict the hurt on Cotto with a final KO. On an annoying note, I shunned a £20 bet on Pacman for a points win at 5/1. I'm gutted.
5:32am – The ref steps in and doesn't let the fight have the formality of going to the cards. If he was going to do that any time that Pacquiao looked lively, he could have done it 3 rounds ago. Odd decision, but Cotto was never winning this from round 3 onwards. Apparently Pacquiao has a concert he is playing later tonight. Insanity.
5:33am – I wasn't sold on Pacquiao at welterweight coming into this fight. He had a spar with De La Hoya in the dismantlement of the Mexican legend and he beat an aged Hatton. He has now beaten a dominant fighter in an amazing fashion. He is by far the best fighter on the planet today. If he stepped into an Octagon with no training, he would beat Brock Lesnar. Not really, but right now I'm that sold on him I'd back him for it.
5:35am – That is it, I'm going the fuck to bed. Then I can do it all over again tomorrow for NFL Sunday. I love working freelance!
Here are my thoughts from throughout the day. If you like, I'll do another on an NFL Sunday.
2:35pm – Is it me or are England just not very good at rugby any more? Well we are but we are just the worst good team ever.
2:37pm – Oh Cueto... if only you weren't so fumbly.
2:57pm – Lewis Moody is playing like his sex is on fire and tackling the Argies is the only relief he can get.
3:41pm – What happened to smash mouth England rugby? Maybe we should try to find out seeing as out kicking game is absolutely rubbish...
4:00pm – So where has THAT form been all day!? What a try
4:24pm – Bit of culture on the Rugby – Ludivicio Enaudi on the outro music. Yes, I know I spelt his name wrong. Sue me.
4:34pm – I can tell you now that the Sky interview man nearly got mauled to death by Martin Johnson
4:58pm – Well, that was the rugby. Now on to the football. Let's watch Brazil sacrifice England's second stringers.
5:00pm – Hmm, probably should save this doc at some point. Nice little tribute to Robert Enke, the German keeper who committed suicide at the weekend pre game.
5:13pm – An England defensive mistake!? I don't believe it...
5:35pm – Pretty impressed with the atmosphere in the Qatar stadium. Also, my backside hurts after being sat in the same spot. Only about 12 hours to go... yay...
5:38pm – Good continuity by the ref. He didn't give Brazil a blatant free kick on the edge of the area and just denied England.
6:17pm – Good old England and their defensive cock ups. Good old Brazil and their inability to score penalties.
6:34pm – England look properly rubbish up front. Rooney is getting no service and they don't have a big guy to lob the ball at.
6:50pm – I'm not calling the match boring, but I'm looking at cars, video games and holidays.
7:08pm – Ahh, a small break from my sporting schedule. UFC 105 is up next at 8. Although for some reason, I'm watching Merlin. This concerns me.
8:01pm – Merlin was actually quite good. Luckily, I can rebalance the man-karma by now watching UFC. I really wish they would change their tacky intro video though.
8:02pm – Did Mike Goldberg just say 'beautiful Manchester, England'?
8:05pm – There is something childishly hilarious about the fighters who have 'Condom Depot' on the backside portion of their shorts.
8:08pm – First beer of the night. I am willing to bet it will be nowhere near the last.
8:22pm – Dominating fight by Pearson here. Would be good to see if he can get a KO and go to ground at least once.
8:24pm – Bloody win by TKO for Ross Pearson. That isn't a posh swear word, Riley is bloodied heavily as the doc stops the match.
8:29pm – I love the Twingo advert where the mother is just so glad that her daughter got a job, she doesn't mind that it is as a whore. Sort of actually sums up the modern working climate.
8:32pm – Dammit America! Leicester is pronounced Less-ter not Lie-chester!
8:39pm – One of the fighters has a mouse under their eye. That must be uncomfortable and a bit of a distraction. Oh, it's now a bad mouse. Very bad mouse. Joe Rogan is very worried about it.
8:51pm – I really think that France may not make it past the Republic of Ireland here. Also, Greece have to go to the Ukraine and win to get through. That is unlikely at best.
8:52pm – Really good fight with Matt Brown picking up the W. The bad mouse, who I just learned has recently finished a 3 year stretch in the hole, clearly was on his team.
9:04pm – Apparently, the UFC might contain scenes that some viewers could find disturbing. I know – Joe Rogan only has light stubble, not the full manly beard!
9:10pm – Bisping comes out to Song 2 by Blur. Whenever I hear that song, I just think about FIFA 1998
9:24pm – Atta Boy Bisping! Great come back for the win.
9:44pm – How much product must Dan Hardy use to keep his hair maintained throughout a fight?
9:45pm – Dan Hardy just got kicked in the nuuuuuuts
9:58pm – Is Joe Rogan slurring into a bad British accent at times?
10:16pm – Main event time in the UFC. All of this is being eclipsed by the prospect of Pacman vs Cotto. No matter how good UFC gets, boxing will always be better.
10:29pm – Randy is still a good fighter, I mean he could beat 7 shades of crap out of me, but he just seems to be lacking a little something at the moment. I think his age his finally catching up to him.
10:32pm – And as I said that, he is having the round of the night against Vera.
10:38pm – Not 100% sure on that unanimous decision for Randy. But I think he did win 2-1 round wise. Then again, I rarely guess UFC score cards.
10:40pm – Joe Rogan and Brandon Vera both slag of the judges for that decision without saying it. There is something about the scorecard decisions in a lot of these fights that stink a bit. Quite often they are very shocking. And in a monopoly MMA company that is completely self regulating, it is going to start hurting the company and industry soon. I mean, you can bet on this shit and the judges often seem to have a mind unto themselves. Little bit odd.
10:43pm – I am stopping gambling for the day now. At the start of the day my bankroll was $250. I'm down $100. That is bad times. I've forgotten what a tournament cash or cash table double up feels like.
10:47pm – Just flicked over to the replay of the Haye vs Valuev fight. I never watched it live as I was in London at the time. I also never realised just how quick Haye was.
11:00pm – With the joy of hindsight, I know that Haye won. But the commentators weren't half pessimistic on the night.
11:35pm – First bit of promo came on for the fight tonight. I cannot wait.
00:03am – Not much on the sporting front at the moment. The Haye vs Valuev undercard is whetting my appetite nicely though.
00:26am – Wohoo, live bobsleigh!
00:55pm – As if knowing what is to come in a few hours, ESPN is showing an old Ali fight
1:59am – FINALLY, now we only have to wait for the undercard and it's show time.
2:28am – Why are under card fights so bad? At the moment this is just a contest to see who will either bleed to death or get DQed for ball smacking.
2:48am – I'm sure these prelim fights are good, but I'm just a tad too excited for the main event. A bit like the way a support band is often ace at a concert, but people don't care. Also, I've now moved back to the original position I was in earlier after a brief few hour sojourn to my office. And I've run out of beer. Boo!
2:54am – How the heck can a World Champ only defend his title once a year for 4 years? Also, I found rum. Yay!
3:00am – Looks like Mr. I'm Too Important To Defend My Title is getting his ass handed to him, Hazzar! Also, all the pro's are backing Cotto. He is a beast, but I think Pacquiao will do it. Did I spell his name right?
3:04am – Boxing is the only sport in the world where a guy more cut than 90% of the population is described as a bit 'soft around the middle'.
3:16am – Cotto's boys are watching Pacman get his hands taped. Antonio Margarito, the person who had put the one blemish on Cotto's otherwise perfect professional record, was suspended for illegally wrapping his hands. Apparently, the amount of tape Margarito used equated to having two cinder blocks on his fists. Cotto are making sure Pacman's camp aren't up to any such shennanigans.
3:23am – Daniel Santos is currently being beaten up by a rabbi. True story.
3:28am – I've just realised that I haven't tended to my aquarium today. Poor fish.
3:48am – Chavez Jr isn't old enough to be out this late, never mind be a pro boxer.
3:52am – Why do people always randomly whistle at boxing events...
4:02am – This fight was meant to be a gimmie for Chavez Jr. He is currently behind...
4:03am – I've also resorted to chain smoking to stay awake. Bad times. Not as bad as my buddy, who has resorted to smoking weed to build up for a game. Because we all know that smoking weed makes you be able to stay up late.
4:12am – No, the crowd aren't getting bored of this fight per se. It's more along the lines of 'GIVE US THE MAIN EVENT NOW YOU BASTARDS!'
4:14am – Chavez wouldn't just get bullied by John Duddy. He would get raped. Also, 41 fights at age 23? Bloody hell...
4:23am – I refuse to believe Nicky Piper was ever a boxer. A geography teacher maybe, but not a boxer.
4:29am – Is it weird that I'm not sold on Pacquiao? I mean he beat an old and obviously ill De La Hoya and ripped through a Hatton who was completely undone by a rubbish training camp. Where as Cotto is a beast at this weight who has only lost once, and that may have been due to the illegal hand wrapping we discussed earlier.
4:39am – Out comes Pacquiao, and I reckon already I've spelt his name 4 different ways.
4:48am – Here we go... Cagey stuff from both, but so far Cotto has the edge.
4:50am – First round Cotto I'd say. You can feel the atmosphere bubbling.
4:54am – Round two Pacquiao. For a minute it was close, but in the end Cotto made some mistakes and the Pacman absolutely ravaged each and every one of them.
4:56am – Cotto went down. Not in a major way, but his gloves hit the canvas to steady himself, and that is all you need. Pacman seems to be shrugging off Cotto's big hits.
4:58am – Got to give that one to Pacquiao as well, along with a nice knockdown. 10-8 to Pacman, making it 29-27 to the little man from the Philippines. Although, Pacman looks cocky just standing there and letting Cotto hit him.
5:02am – A very convincing knockdown on Cotto and he is hurt. That was so nearly Cotto's round too, then the little man let loose and floored him with a huge thwack. Cotto keeps doing well, wearing him down then loosing his head, letting loose and getting caught. 10 – 8 again, so 39 – 35 but I tell you now that the scores will be irrelevant.
5:05 – I think I'm going to give this round to Cotto, although I would not by any stretch begrudge anyone giving it to Pacquiao. Or should I give it to Pacman? Lets give it to Cotto and say 48 – 45
5:10 – That round was Pacquiao all over. He so nearly rocked Cotto a few times. 58-54 on my card. Although, the wee man hasn't looked as lively as before. Maybe all that extra weight is pulling on him. Saying that, Cotto is hurting badly all over. I can see a quiet round or two. Now, watch a KO happen...
5:14am – That round was all Pacman. 68 – 63 and Cotto is either going to get KOed or have his corner stop this mess. I have never seen a more dominant fighter than Pacquiao. He will beat Mayweather Jr at this rate. Easily one of the greatest ever. Easily
5:18am – Cotto cannot win this fight now. His punches are impotent, movement slow and he is just taking a beating. Freddie Roach just said 'next round'. Pull Cotto now and save his skin. 78 – 72. That said, I want this to go the distance so I can see how my score cards are doing. I think I'm a point off but close.
5:22am – 88-81. This is now just uncomfortable to watch. If they don't pull Cotto, then Freddie Roach needs to do the right thing and tell Pacquiao to go easy on him. Same as Calzaghe did against Jones Jr.
5:26am – Another Pacman round making it 98 – 90. Either Pacquiao is taking my advice and going easy on Cotto, knowing his corner won't pull him and having no wish to hurt his fellow boxer or Pacman is hurting. I'm not sure which it is, although I'm willing to bet Pacquiao knows that even Cotto doesn't have enough for one more big punch left in him.
5:30am – The crown begin to boo as the fight winds down. You know, I'm actually giving that round to Cotto. It may have been back foot boxing but he was better I thought. 107 – 100. Final round coming up, and I don't think Pacquiao will inflict the hurt on Cotto with a final KO. On an annoying note, I shunned a £20 bet on Pacman for a points win at 5/1. I'm gutted.
5:32am – The ref steps in and doesn't let the fight have the formality of going to the cards. If he was going to do that any time that Pacquiao looked lively, he could have done it 3 rounds ago. Odd decision, but Cotto was never winning this from round 3 onwards. Apparently Pacquiao has a concert he is playing later tonight. Insanity.
5:33am – I wasn't sold on Pacquiao at welterweight coming into this fight. He had a spar with De La Hoya in the dismantlement of the Mexican legend and he beat an aged Hatton. He has now beaten a dominant fighter in an amazing fashion. He is by far the best fighter on the planet today. If he stepped into an Octagon with no training, he would beat Brock Lesnar. Not really, but right now I'm that sold on him I'd back him for it.
5:35am – That is it, I'm going the fuck to bed. Then I can do it all over again tomorrow for NFL Sunday. I love working freelance!
Thursday, 12 November 2009
My Top 10 Favourite Websites
Right then children, after yesterdays little sojourn into the serious, let's have some fun. This will be a bit like one of those times at school when teacher announced that you would be watching a video instead of doing actual work. God, I loved those days. And it was usually in either Geography or History as well, two of the most god awful boring subjects there are. No offence intended to Historians or Geographers. Deep down I'm sure you're cool.
Today, we are going to have fun in the form of links. Links to some of my favourite websites mainly, the sort of stuff that makes up my RSS bar. I know it's a bit of a cop out, but its fun and easy. It also means that the stack of press releases building up for me to finish off turning into articles won't crush me like a little bug.
Shall we get started? I think I'll do these in a little top 10 list counting down my favourite sites.
10 – Prey Tell
I can't make out if Prey Tell is an ARG (Alternate Reality Game) or real. If it is real, it's amazing. It it is an ARG, it was one of the most captivating out there. You can feel the tension, the need and desperation. You easily want to read on and the whole website is a masterpiece. Check out The Skinny to find out the background, and read it through from the beginning. Masterful.
9 – Ctrl Alt Del (aka Cad-Comic)
Tim Buckley's successful tellings of two gamer best friends inter sliced with one off strips satirising the video games industry. I will admit, I'm a bit of a huge gamer and so love this strip. The characters are well defined and it is quite nice seeing the story telling evolve from the absurd to dramatic. There is also a nice animated series that accompanies the strip should you feel like spending a few hard earned bucks extra.
8 – The Listverse
I love The Listverse. I think I like accumulating knowledge and although you can't exactly take everything you read on the internet as gospel, The Lisverse is always pretty accurate. There you will find lists detailing everything from the wonderful, unbelievable, cute and funny to the disturbing, disgusting and downright macabre. Well worth a good old fashioned SWF browse.
7 – The BBC
Ahh, the good old Beeb. I know that this site is probably visited by most people at least 7 thousand times a day, but the fact it is regularly my most visited website I thought warranted a spot on the list. News, articles sports and the ever wonderful BBC iPlayer. What more can you ask for?
6 – Kissing Suzy Kolber
Now, one of my pet hates in writing is people who just swear for swearings sake and call it humour. It isn't big, it isn't clever and it really isn't funny. That is, unless you write for KSK. Between the merry gang of writers, spearheaded by Big Daddy Drew, their foul mouthed ranting, rambling and genius analysis of the NFL makes for one of the most entertaining websites out there. Although you do need to be an NFL fan to appreciate most of the humour, and being keyed up on the internal site memes doesn't exactly hurt either, I have learnt so many new swear words from that site it is unreal.
5 – Shutdown Corner
Lets get the two NFL sites out the way back to back, eh? Shutdown Corner is actually the NFL blog run by Yahoo! over at their American website. Usually, the inbuilt anti-establishment part of me says that as it is controlled by a major corporation, it will suck. Actually, all of the Yahoo! Sports Blogs are pretty amazing. They have them for basketball, ice hockey, tennis, golf, baseball and a few others. Well worth checking out, even though they are pretty high on the American-isms.
4 – Questionable Content
This is without a doubt my most favouritist webcomic ever. There are currently over 1,500 strips and watching the evolution from the first to the latest in terms of character development, artwork improvement, cast depth and storytelling is a joy to behold. Oh yeah, it is also funny as hell too. Much like CAD, QC was first conceived as a vehicle to poke fun at a specific niche culture. For QC, that was the indie music scene. However, in the 1,500 strips which followed it has evolved into something well beyond.
3 – Justin.tv
I probably shouldn't admit that I use Justin.tv seeing as it is both pretty much illegal and a bit hypocritical of me as I work in a royalty based industry, but still. I love it. My big problem is I spend about 12 hours a day in my office at home. I don't really have any co-workers or anything. So I find it quite nice to just stick on a JTV stream in the background and listen. I can pop up on the chat if I'm having a break and natter on. Oh, it's all jolly good.
On an unrelated note, I do other stuff while I'm working in order to keep me a bit sane. One of the things I do is play poker. I admitted this in front of a potential client once. Didn't get that contract...
2 – Modern Drunkard Magazine
I love this site. Although it varies immensely on how often it is updated – sometimes regularly every 6 weeks and sometimes 9 months apart – all of the content is golden. Modern Drunkard Magazine is a publication that fully supports the finer aspects in life of being a lush. If you picture a 1950's advertising guy wearing a snappy suite and a fedora while drinking martinis, that sums up this website. It is downright drunk fun. I guarantee after a browse you will fancy a wander down to your local pub. Or a quick flight to Vegas. Depends how the night turns out.
1 – The Daily Mash
Imagine The Onion but aimed at a UK based audience. That sums this site up. It shamelessly mocks the news and just needs to be read to be believed. My two favourite headlines this year have been 'Everyone Dead By Tea Time' (also the title of the Mash's new book) and 'Survivors Of Pork Flu To Enjoy Nice Summer'.
That is a nice summation of where I spend my internet time. Have a browse, have a click and I hope I've introduced you to something new. See you Sunday!
Today, we are going to have fun in the form of links. Links to some of my favourite websites mainly, the sort of stuff that makes up my RSS bar. I know it's a bit of a cop out, but its fun and easy. It also means that the stack of press releases building up for me to finish off turning into articles won't crush me like a little bug.
Shall we get started? I think I'll do these in a little top 10 list counting down my favourite sites.
10 – Prey Tell
I can't make out if Prey Tell is an ARG (Alternate Reality Game) or real. If it is real, it's amazing. It it is an ARG, it was one of the most captivating out there. You can feel the tension, the need and desperation. You easily want to read on and the whole website is a masterpiece. Check out The Skinny to find out the background, and read it through from the beginning. Masterful.
9 – Ctrl Alt Del (aka Cad-Comic)
Tim Buckley's successful tellings of two gamer best friends inter sliced with one off strips satirising the video games industry. I will admit, I'm a bit of a huge gamer and so love this strip. The characters are well defined and it is quite nice seeing the story telling evolve from the absurd to dramatic. There is also a nice animated series that accompanies the strip should you feel like spending a few hard earned bucks extra.
8 – The Listverse
I love The Listverse. I think I like accumulating knowledge and although you can't exactly take everything you read on the internet as gospel, The Lisverse is always pretty accurate. There you will find lists detailing everything from the wonderful, unbelievable, cute and funny to the disturbing, disgusting and downright macabre. Well worth a good old fashioned SWF browse.
7 – The BBC
Ahh, the good old Beeb. I know that this site is probably visited by most people at least 7 thousand times a day, but the fact it is regularly my most visited website I thought warranted a spot on the list. News, articles sports and the ever wonderful BBC iPlayer. What more can you ask for?
6 – Kissing Suzy Kolber
Now, one of my pet hates in writing is people who just swear for swearings sake and call it humour. It isn't big, it isn't clever and it really isn't funny. That is, unless you write for KSK. Between the merry gang of writers, spearheaded by Big Daddy Drew, their foul mouthed ranting, rambling and genius analysis of the NFL makes for one of the most entertaining websites out there. Although you do need to be an NFL fan to appreciate most of the humour, and being keyed up on the internal site memes doesn't exactly hurt either, I have learnt so many new swear words from that site it is unreal.
5 – Shutdown Corner
Lets get the two NFL sites out the way back to back, eh? Shutdown Corner is actually the NFL blog run by Yahoo! over at their American website. Usually, the inbuilt anti-establishment part of me says that as it is controlled by a major corporation, it will suck. Actually, all of the Yahoo! Sports Blogs are pretty amazing. They have them for basketball, ice hockey, tennis, golf, baseball and a few others. Well worth checking out, even though they are pretty high on the American-isms.
4 – Questionable Content
This is without a doubt my most favouritist webcomic ever. There are currently over 1,500 strips and watching the evolution from the first to the latest in terms of character development, artwork improvement, cast depth and storytelling is a joy to behold. Oh yeah, it is also funny as hell too. Much like CAD, QC was first conceived as a vehicle to poke fun at a specific niche culture. For QC, that was the indie music scene. However, in the 1,500 strips which followed it has evolved into something well beyond.
3 – Justin.tv
I probably shouldn't admit that I use Justin.tv seeing as it is both pretty much illegal and a bit hypocritical of me as I work in a royalty based industry, but still. I love it. My big problem is I spend about 12 hours a day in my office at home. I don't really have any co-workers or anything. So I find it quite nice to just stick on a JTV stream in the background and listen. I can pop up on the chat if I'm having a break and natter on. Oh, it's all jolly good.
On an unrelated note, I do other stuff while I'm working in order to keep me a bit sane. One of the things I do is play poker. I admitted this in front of a potential client once. Didn't get that contract...
2 – Modern Drunkard Magazine
I love this site. Although it varies immensely on how often it is updated – sometimes regularly every 6 weeks and sometimes 9 months apart – all of the content is golden. Modern Drunkard Magazine is a publication that fully supports the finer aspects in life of being a lush. If you picture a 1950's advertising guy wearing a snappy suite and a fedora while drinking martinis, that sums up this website. It is downright drunk fun. I guarantee after a browse you will fancy a wander down to your local pub. Or a quick flight to Vegas. Depends how the night turns out.
1 – The Daily Mash
Imagine The Onion but aimed at a UK based audience. That sums this site up. It shamelessly mocks the news and just needs to be read to be believed. My two favourite headlines this year have been 'Everyone Dead By Tea Time' (also the title of the Mash's new book) and 'Survivors Of Pork Flu To Enjoy Nice Summer'.
That is a nice summation of where I spend my internet time. Have a browse, have a click and I hope I've introduced you to something new. See you Sunday!
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
11th November
I was going to write a post today about how silly my life is working for both UK and USA based people, how I have no body clock and how I fell asleep at my desk only to wake up at 4am with a bit of a headache last night. I was going to write an article saying about how I hate blogs who don't update on time, as I didn't yesterday. When I woke up at 4am I still had a few other articles to finish off and just finished them off and went to bed.
Then I realised what today was. 11th November. If you're an American reading this, it's Veterans Day. If you're a fellow Brit, it's Armistice Day. Suddenly, I felt deeply ashamed about complaining how doing a job I love with all my soul means I keep odd waking hours . At least my day to day occupational hazards are things like carpal tunnel, stubbing my toe on the desk and staring at blank white pages long enough to send me a bit mad. I don't have to worry about RPGs, snipers, gun locks and road side bombs. I don't have to worry about mortar fire, suicide bombs and death.
I'm a big supporter of troops. I don't like the politics behind the current wars our troops are in, but I've always held the point of view that at the end of the day they are there and you have to support them. What they do day in day out is incredible, and I know in my heart of hearts I couldn't do it. I'm also a firm believer of the 'The lowest paid soldier should be given more than the highest paid footballer' theory. If people ask me about my views on it, I just say 'Pro-Troop-Anti-War'.
I've had two thoughts about today. About what it means and all that. I'll voice them now. And I promise I'll make some cock jokes tomorrow when we return to our regularly scheduled sort of update.
I read this post by one of the Kissing Suzy Kolber bloggers, Matt Ufford, earlier, and it shook me up. I didn't actually know that the guy had been to war as a tank commander for the Marines in the initial invasion of Iraq a few years ago. But his piece is just such a human response to the whole thing. As much as soldiering is about bravado and brawn and strength and courage, soldiers are human too. I know to me soldiers are super heroes, so its odd to hear them say they are scared. And I think it is becoming increasingly apparent that that is what makes them the amazing people they are. More and more, soldiers are speaking about not only the times when they won the day, but also what happens when they come off second best. They are scared, and endure. Read it, as it is an amazing piece of writing. It gives a slant on soldiering that most people don't consider.
The other thought is more a rhetorical one.
Tonight, there will be two types of people. One will be sat at home pounding Red Bull's and playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. The biggest game of the year was released this week, and no doubt Xbox Live will full of people playing it. Full of people shooting and killing, complaining about re-spawns and snipers. Full of pawnage and 1337 and everything. Full of celebrating the big kills.
One will be sat at home pounding a bottle of whiskey and trying to keep out the memories of their time at war. Trying not to think of lives they have taken, trying not to think of any of their friends who didn't make it and trying to keep out of a dark place. I know not every soldier who comes home is broken, but war affects people in many different ways. For every person who took today to pay respects to their fallen comrades and feel the sense of pride that only a veteran is entitled to, there will be someone who hasn't handled combat as well.
In WW1, Sigfried Sassoon wrote the following.
'Pray that you will never know the hell where youth and laughter go.'
On a day where we remember veterans, remember the fallen and give our eternal thanks, millions of the youth will be playing a war game recreating the horrors that defined a generation.
I just think that is fucked up.
Then I realised what today was. 11th November. If you're an American reading this, it's Veterans Day. If you're a fellow Brit, it's Armistice Day. Suddenly, I felt deeply ashamed about complaining how doing a job I love with all my soul means I keep odd waking hours . At least my day to day occupational hazards are things like carpal tunnel, stubbing my toe on the desk and staring at blank white pages long enough to send me a bit mad. I don't have to worry about RPGs, snipers, gun locks and road side bombs. I don't have to worry about mortar fire, suicide bombs and death.
I'm a big supporter of troops. I don't like the politics behind the current wars our troops are in, but I've always held the point of view that at the end of the day they are there and you have to support them. What they do day in day out is incredible, and I know in my heart of hearts I couldn't do it. I'm also a firm believer of the 'The lowest paid soldier should be given more than the highest paid footballer' theory. If people ask me about my views on it, I just say 'Pro-Troop-Anti-War'.
I've had two thoughts about today. About what it means and all that. I'll voice them now. And I promise I'll make some cock jokes tomorrow when we return to our regularly scheduled sort of update.
I read this post by one of the Kissing Suzy Kolber bloggers, Matt Ufford, earlier, and it shook me up. I didn't actually know that the guy had been to war as a tank commander for the Marines in the initial invasion of Iraq a few years ago. But his piece is just such a human response to the whole thing. As much as soldiering is about bravado and brawn and strength and courage, soldiers are human too. I know to me soldiers are super heroes, so its odd to hear them say they are scared. And I think it is becoming increasingly apparent that that is what makes them the amazing people they are. More and more, soldiers are speaking about not only the times when they won the day, but also what happens when they come off second best. They are scared, and endure. Read it, as it is an amazing piece of writing. It gives a slant on soldiering that most people don't consider.
The other thought is more a rhetorical one.
Tonight, there will be two types of people. One will be sat at home pounding Red Bull's and playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. The biggest game of the year was released this week, and no doubt Xbox Live will full of people playing it. Full of people shooting and killing, complaining about re-spawns and snipers. Full of pawnage and 1337 and everything. Full of celebrating the big kills.
One will be sat at home pounding a bottle of whiskey and trying to keep out the memories of their time at war. Trying not to think of lives they have taken, trying not to think of any of their friends who didn't make it and trying to keep out of a dark place. I know not every soldier who comes home is broken, but war affects people in many different ways. For every person who took today to pay respects to their fallen comrades and feel the sense of pride that only a veteran is entitled to, there will be someone who hasn't handled combat as well.
In WW1, Sigfried Sassoon wrote the following.
'Pray that you will never know the hell where youth and laughter go.'
On a day where we remember veterans, remember the fallen and give our eternal thanks, millions of the youth will be playing a war game recreating the horrors that defined a generation.
I just think that is fucked up.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
How about some Chelsea and Manchester United feedback?
For those of you who have been living with their head firmly buried in the sand this weekend, let me enlighten you to something quite important.
Manchester United paid a little visit to Chelsea.
Yeah. Bet you feel silly for having your head firmly hidden now, huh?
I thought I should pipe in with some feedback. I do supposedly offer some sporting opinion in the tag line round here. It's only polite. You want to know how I would sum up that match?
The officiating was just plain and simple inept.
I'm a Manchester United fan. We lost, and I hate loosing to Chelsea more than anything I can think of. But, I can be a man about it. Although I think we were possibly the better team, overall Chelsea have been better this year. So long as we can be a comfortable second and don't get dragged into the dog fight for 4th I'm happy.
But honestly, the entire officiating crew needs to be looked at after that mess. From inconsistent calls to phantom fouls, make believe timing rules to making decisions that just go completely against the rule book... it was a mess. In the first half, Terry takes down Valencia with a fist full of shirt in the penalty box. No penalty. A few times the ball crossed the line for corner kicks, and all the officials missed it. People kicked the ball away after play was brought back with no reprimand. Drogba gets kicked in the chest and gets a yellow card for it. Players were left on the sideline after being treated for injuries. There was no compulsory 30 seconds added on to extra time for the substitution. This is just stuff off the top of my head, if I actually did my job and put in some research, I'm sure I could find more.
Oh, how could I forget. The goal.
From the free kick that wasn't that set it up, to the awfully suspicious shoulder that knocked it on to Drogba standing a country mile offside waving a boot in Van Der Sar's face.... just pick some reasons as to why the goal was a summation of the refereeing performance.
I'm not bitter that United lost. I can accept that. I'm incredibly annoyed that we lost, but putting in a strong performance doesn't mean that you get what you deserve. What is the most galling of all is that once again officiating has defined a top game.
I know that all the referees are very highly trained and all that, but they need to stop being the be all and end all of the match. Instead of writing about how Valencia did a better job than Ronaldo ever did against Ashley Cole, or how Brown and Evans were as solid as Ferdinand and Vidic at their best, or how Ancelotti has guided Chelsea to a 5 point lead after just 12 games, I'm writing about refs.
The Premier League needs to do something, as more often than not the top of the table is decided by the handful of games the big clubs play against each other. Maybe give a special title to the top refereeing crews, and say flat out at the beginning of the season “These same guys will handle all the times that the four Champions League teams play each other.” Then stand behind them absolutely. Tell the managers that it is an automatic ban for questioning them, tell the refs to yellow card immediately for dissent and put in the strong officiating that is needed to control and better these matches.
Once again, it is ridiculous that the emphasis of these matches is not on the players after the final whistle is blown.
Manchester United paid a little visit to Chelsea.
Yeah. Bet you feel silly for having your head firmly hidden now, huh?
I thought I should pipe in with some feedback. I do supposedly offer some sporting opinion in the tag line round here. It's only polite. You want to know how I would sum up that match?
The officiating was just plain and simple inept.
I'm a Manchester United fan. We lost, and I hate loosing to Chelsea more than anything I can think of. But, I can be a man about it. Although I think we were possibly the better team, overall Chelsea have been better this year. So long as we can be a comfortable second and don't get dragged into the dog fight for 4th I'm happy.
But honestly, the entire officiating crew needs to be looked at after that mess. From inconsistent calls to phantom fouls, make believe timing rules to making decisions that just go completely against the rule book... it was a mess. In the first half, Terry takes down Valencia with a fist full of shirt in the penalty box. No penalty. A few times the ball crossed the line for corner kicks, and all the officials missed it. People kicked the ball away after play was brought back with no reprimand. Drogba gets kicked in the chest and gets a yellow card for it. Players were left on the sideline after being treated for injuries. There was no compulsory 30 seconds added on to extra time for the substitution. This is just stuff off the top of my head, if I actually did my job and put in some research, I'm sure I could find more.
Oh, how could I forget. The goal.
From the free kick that wasn't that set it up, to the awfully suspicious shoulder that knocked it on to Drogba standing a country mile offside waving a boot in Van Der Sar's face.... just pick some reasons as to why the goal was a summation of the refereeing performance.
I'm not bitter that United lost. I can accept that. I'm incredibly annoyed that we lost, but putting in a strong performance doesn't mean that you get what you deserve. What is the most galling of all is that once again officiating has defined a top game.
I know that all the referees are very highly trained and all that, but they need to stop being the be all and end all of the match. Instead of writing about how Valencia did a better job than Ronaldo ever did against Ashley Cole, or how Brown and Evans were as solid as Ferdinand and Vidic at their best, or how Ancelotti has guided Chelsea to a 5 point lead after just 12 games, I'm writing about refs.
The Premier League needs to do something, as more often than not the top of the table is decided by the handful of games the big clubs play against each other. Maybe give a special title to the top refereeing crews, and say flat out at the beginning of the season “These same guys will handle all the times that the four Champions League teams play each other.” Then stand behind them absolutely. Tell the managers that it is an automatic ban for questioning them, tell the refs to yellow card immediately for dissent and put in the strong officiating that is needed to control and better these matches.
Once again, it is ridiculous that the emphasis of these matches is not on the players after the final whistle is blown.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Oh poker....
Oh poker, thou art one heartless bitch.
I'm a strong believer in karma. I don't exactly go throughout the day while helping small birds fly and nursing injured butterflies back to full health, but I try not be a complete and utter bastard. I would like to think that the arsehole in the BMW who cut me up will at some point suffer some calamity in order to right the scales.
I think in a much, much smaller way karma applies to poker. You get some bad luck and some good luck. If you get a massive, massive stroke of good luck then at some point you are likely to come a cropper. I think this is what I'm experiencing.
I'm not usually one to bitch, moan and complain if I loose at poker. So long as I'm happy with the decision I made, I'm don't mind if I've been outplayed. I'm not one of these sorts who troll around the internet going “Derp Derp DONK Derp Derp” every time they loose a hand. I'm angry at times, sure, but try to at least fake some decorum.
On Tuesday I managed to sneak a win in a little “friendly” pub game I play in possibly the cheekiest manner possible. After getting heads up, I did a pure bluff all in to try to steal a small raise. Except they of course called, as they had an Ace and a King. And I only sort of had a seven and a two... and I sort of hit a seven and won. Yikes. That is sort of like an F1 car being beaten by a Smart Car.
Since then, I've been paying. I've sat down for two little online poker sessions since then and have suffered from some sort of poker karma. Honestly, it is just ridiculous. As I type this, my King Queen suited was beaten by nine seven off because they flopped a full house. This no longer worries me and I perceive it as normal.
So I am using this posting to formally regret the poker gods to cut me some slack. Please. I mean, I didn't mean to get cheeky. Honest. I would have done the dummy all in shove with any two cards. Please, I'm sorry I won. I even said that at the time. At least give me a fighting chance!
I'm a strong believer in karma. I don't exactly go throughout the day while helping small birds fly and nursing injured butterflies back to full health, but I try not be a complete and utter bastard. I would like to think that the arsehole in the BMW who cut me up will at some point suffer some calamity in order to right the scales.
I think in a much, much smaller way karma applies to poker. You get some bad luck and some good luck. If you get a massive, massive stroke of good luck then at some point you are likely to come a cropper. I think this is what I'm experiencing.
I'm not usually one to bitch, moan and complain if I loose at poker. So long as I'm happy with the decision I made, I'm don't mind if I've been outplayed. I'm not one of these sorts who troll around the internet going “Derp Derp DONK Derp Derp” every time they loose a hand. I'm angry at times, sure, but try to at least fake some decorum.
On Tuesday I managed to sneak a win in a little “friendly” pub game I play in possibly the cheekiest manner possible. After getting heads up, I did a pure bluff all in to try to steal a small raise. Except they of course called, as they had an Ace and a King. And I only sort of had a seven and a two... and I sort of hit a seven and won. Yikes. That is sort of like an F1 car being beaten by a Smart Car.
Since then, I've been paying. I've sat down for two little online poker sessions since then and have suffered from some sort of poker karma. Honestly, it is just ridiculous. As I type this, my King Queen suited was beaten by nine seven off because they flopped a full house. This no longer worries me and I perceive it as normal.
So I am using this posting to formally regret the poker gods to cut me some slack. Please. I mean, I didn't mean to get cheeky. Honest. I would have done the dummy all in shove with any two cards. Please, I'm sorry I won. I even said that at the time. At least give me a fighting chance!
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
My Big MLS Rant
I wrote this little rant about Major League Soccer for one of my London Chronicles pieces over at Elevation Radio. Except it is horrendously off topic so did a little bit of self editing. I can post it here though.... enjoy!
Now, last week I got a wrapping of the knuckles for making fun of David Beckham's beard. To quote Mr. Elevation - “He is all (MLS) has”. Well, once again, you don't have him. It is all but a done deal now that will see Sir David of Beckham return to Milan in order to ensure he gets his ticket to South Africa for the World Cup. Let's look at this two ways (as The Premiership isn't that full of scandal this week, I have some column space).
It is very, very good for England. Beckham lifts England. Not having Beckham in the England squad is awfully reminiscent of the mismanagement of England from a few years ago. He can still distribute the ball and deal with dead ball situations better than anyone else in that squad. When he was initially dropped, the argument was that he was not a part of England's future. That was true. He is still a massive part of England's present. Being in Milan will see Beckham gearing up for his last World Cup playing in one of the world's top leagues and for one of the world's top teams. Now, let's see if he continues his tradition of breaking his foot just before the tournament starts...
The down side is it shows MLS up for what it sort of is. I watch a fair bit of MLS when it's on ESPN over here. I mean absolutely no offence, but the standard isn't great. Football in the States has a lot of potential – just look at how good the USA National Team are – but MLS by their very nature are choking the game. I'm not even talking about player quality, as that can only get better as more young people choose to play soccer and the collegiate game improves. I'm talking in the nature of it's set up.
The season is out of sync with Europe as MLS team's can't play in the winter due to sharing stadia with NLF teams. The salary cap, draft and player caps that are present in MLS are unique to US soccer, and incompatible with the rest of the world. In terms of soccer, I also have real issues with the two conference system, although with the massive distances teams have to travel it is more than understandable.
I suppose it boils down to this – MLS will never, ever be able to integrate itself into the world game while it insists on it's current model. I know a lot of it is designed to give sustained growth both financially and in terms of player development, but it cannot work. You cannot expect one league to be able to join in when it does absolutely everything differently. This isn't like the designated hitter rule. This is square shape into a round hole stuff. If Chelsea wanted to sign Landon Donavan for about £7m (a fair price, probably) then LA Galaxy would see about £250,000 of that money. They couldn't go out and spend it all to replace him. This is the only league where that happens.
I really, really want soccer to take off in the States. Soccer has been 'on the brink' since the 70's, except nobody has dared to shove their chips onto the table and put the ante up. Look at the short term exposure that Beckham got. Now imagine if that was happening every season, because the MLS was viable option for top players. Top players attract top sponsors, which attracts top TV and fans through the turnstiles. Imagine if the MLS could field competitive sides against top European clubs. Imagine if when a player like Robinho gets unsettled and could move on, he could just as likely play in Houston as he could Barcelona.
MLS needs to take a look at Manchester City and Chelsea. They were pushed that next step by throwing money at it. I know I bemoan the money in football, but if it was used to propel soccer in the States then it would be a glorious thing. It would equal the karma.
Beckham must have repaid most, if not all and then some, of his price tag back in merchandising and marketing rights for LA Galaxy. If the New York Red Bulls threw $100m at Anelka, or if the Chicago Fire threw $200m Tevez, or whatever, it would get a fair bit of interest as well. It would also sustain interest. Players of that calibre also sustain financial interest, which is equal to that of fans.
Also, are you telling me that between any sports' minor league teams, colleges, midweek use of NFL stadiums and the like, MLS can't find a few 20,000 capacity venues to use during the winter? Are you telling me Red Bull or Mark Cuban don't have an extra $500m to invest?
More to the point, MLS appears to think that attracting one or two big players and money is the be all and end all. The absolute number one problem they have, even above the way the league is made up, is that no non-American player really cares about winning the MLS Cup. The reason some players are so desperate to play in The Premiership, Serie A, La Liga and the rest of them is because they are prestigious. To be able to say you won two or three of the biggest leagues in the world in your career is huge. It puts you in another class of athlete. It needs to be something an athlete wants to do. MLS won't take off overnight. Nor will it be able to slowly burble into life, like it is trying to do now. If the MLS puts in serious money and effort into recruiting players like Beckham, and spread the players around the league, the league itself becomes more prestigious. The league becomes a more viable option for players both financially and competitively. The increase in sponsor, TV and fan interest means bigger growth. Only then can the MLS really shine.
Now, last week I got a wrapping of the knuckles for making fun of David Beckham's beard. To quote Mr. Elevation - “He is all (MLS) has”. Well, once again, you don't have him. It is all but a done deal now that will see Sir David of Beckham return to Milan in order to ensure he gets his ticket to South Africa for the World Cup. Let's look at this two ways (as The Premiership isn't that full of scandal this week, I have some column space).
It is very, very good for England. Beckham lifts England. Not having Beckham in the England squad is awfully reminiscent of the mismanagement of England from a few years ago. He can still distribute the ball and deal with dead ball situations better than anyone else in that squad. When he was initially dropped, the argument was that he was not a part of England's future. That was true. He is still a massive part of England's present. Being in Milan will see Beckham gearing up for his last World Cup playing in one of the world's top leagues and for one of the world's top teams. Now, let's see if he continues his tradition of breaking his foot just before the tournament starts...
The down side is it shows MLS up for what it sort of is. I watch a fair bit of MLS when it's on ESPN over here. I mean absolutely no offence, but the standard isn't great. Football in the States has a lot of potential – just look at how good the USA National Team are – but MLS by their very nature are choking the game. I'm not even talking about player quality, as that can only get better as more young people choose to play soccer and the collegiate game improves. I'm talking in the nature of it's set up.
The season is out of sync with Europe as MLS team's can't play in the winter due to sharing stadia with NLF teams. The salary cap, draft and player caps that are present in MLS are unique to US soccer, and incompatible with the rest of the world. In terms of soccer, I also have real issues with the two conference system, although with the massive distances teams have to travel it is more than understandable.
I suppose it boils down to this – MLS will never, ever be able to integrate itself into the world game while it insists on it's current model. I know a lot of it is designed to give sustained growth both financially and in terms of player development, but it cannot work. You cannot expect one league to be able to join in when it does absolutely everything differently. This isn't like the designated hitter rule. This is square shape into a round hole stuff. If Chelsea wanted to sign Landon Donavan for about £7m (a fair price, probably) then LA Galaxy would see about £250,000 of that money. They couldn't go out and spend it all to replace him. This is the only league where that happens.
I really, really want soccer to take off in the States. Soccer has been 'on the brink' since the 70's, except nobody has dared to shove their chips onto the table and put the ante up. Look at the short term exposure that Beckham got. Now imagine if that was happening every season, because the MLS was viable option for top players. Top players attract top sponsors, which attracts top TV and fans through the turnstiles. Imagine if the MLS could field competitive sides against top European clubs. Imagine if when a player like Robinho gets unsettled and could move on, he could just as likely play in Houston as he could Barcelona.
MLS needs to take a look at Manchester City and Chelsea. They were pushed that next step by throwing money at it. I know I bemoan the money in football, but if it was used to propel soccer in the States then it would be a glorious thing. It would equal the karma.
Beckham must have repaid most, if not all and then some, of his price tag back in merchandising and marketing rights for LA Galaxy. If the New York Red Bulls threw $100m at Anelka, or if the Chicago Fire threw $200m Tevez, or whatever, it would get a fair bit of interest as well. It would also sustain interest. Players of that calibre also sustain financial interest, which is equal to that of fans.
Also, are you telling me that between any sports' minor league teams, colleges, midweek use of NFL stadiums and the like, MLS can't find a few 20,000 capacity venues to use during the winter? Are you telling me Red Bull or Mark Cuban don't have an extra $500m to invest?
More to the point, MLS appears to think that attracting one or two big players and money is the be all and end all. The absolute number one problem they have, even above the way the league is made up, is that no non-American player really cares about winning the MLS Cup. The reason some players are so desperate to play in The Premiership, Serie A, La Liga and the rest of them is because they are prestigious. To be able to say you won two or three of the biggest leagues in the world in your career is huge. It puts you in another class of athlete. It needs to be something an athlete wants to do. MLS won't take off overnight. Nor will it be able to slowly burble into life, like it is trying to do now. If the MLS puts in serious money and effort into recruiting players like Beckham, and spread the players around the league, the league itself becomes more prestigious. The league becomes a more viable option for players both financially and competitively. The increase in sponsor, TV and fan interest means bigger growth. Only then can the MLS really shine.
Monday, 2 November 2009
How you know if you had a good Halloween...
4am - Somehow make it to bed. Pass Out.
11am – Wake up in agony. Use bathroom, drink whatever liquid is on bedside table. Go back to sleep.
Midday – Wake up again. Eat rest of chow mein that was somehow obtained the night before. Go back to sleep.
1pm – Finally get up. Stumble downstairs. First flashbacks of inappropriate behaviour. Spend next hour breathing quietly in the corner. Take first aspirin.
2pm – Consider eating something. Think better of it.
2:30pm – Eat something. Regret it quickly. Spend more time breathing quietly in corner.
3pm – Track down phone. Check for drunken calls, texts and emails that may have been sent.
3:30pm – Firm reminders of inappropriate behaviour return. Breathe quietly in the corner while groaning.
4pm – Regain will to live.
4:30pm – Attempt first cigarette of day. Big mistake. Take two drags, dry heave and stub out. Will to live retreats again.
5pm – Check credit card balance. Pray that nothing was bought online.
5:30pm – Check wallet for cash. Find no notes but a small fortune in change.
6pm – Get phone call to check if you're still alive. When the answer is yes, get surprised answer.
8pm – Finally get enough liquid back in body to urinate. Get cocky and try another cigarette.
9pm – Finally the blood alcohol levels drop down to sane levels. Drive to fast food place and buy as much food as change allows.
10pm – Slink in front of sofa and suffer the affects of fast food. Check poker account to make sure no gambling occurred.
11pm – Go back to bed. Check Facebook on laptop. Loose will to live again.
11:30pm – Beer poo.
12:30am – Try to sleep. Body too broken to even achieve that.
1am – Start playing video games. Big mistake. Start feeling much better.
4am – Realise it is 4am. Feel almost back to full health.
6am – Go to sleep.
10am – Alarm clock goes off as you have to start working. Will to live completely goes.
7pm – Return to scene of crime. Be told of full details. Be surprised you were even allowed back in. Start planning fireworks night party to do it all over again.
11am – Wake up in agony. Use bathroom, drink whatever liquid is on bedside table. Go back to sleep.
Midday – Wake up again. Eat rest of chow mein that was somehow obtained the night before. Go back to sleep.
1pm – Finally get up. Stumble downstairs. First flashbacks of inappropriate behaviour. Spend next hour breathing quietly in the corner. Take first aspirin.
2pm – Consider eating something. Think better of it.
2:30pm – Eat something. Regret it quickly. Spend more time breathing quietly in corner.
3pm – Track down phone. Check for drunken calls, texts and emails that may have been sent.
3:30pm – Firm reminders of inappropriate behaviour return. Breathe quietly in the corner while groaning.
4pm – Regain will to live.
4:30pm – Attempt first cigarette of day. Big mistake. Take two drags, dry heave and stub out. Will to live retreats again.
5pm – Check credit card balance. Pray that nothing was bought online.
5:30pm – Check wallet for cash. Find no notes but a small fortune in change.
6pm – Get phone call to check if you're still alive. When the answer is yes, get surprised answer.
8pm – Finally get enough liquid back in body to urinate. Get cocky and try another cigarette.
9pm – Finally the blood alcohol levels drop down to sane levels. Drive to fast food place and buy as much food as change allows.
10pm – Slink in front of sofa and suffer the affects of fast food. Check poker account to make sure no gambling occurred.
11pm – Go back to bed. Check Facebook on laptop. Loose will to live again.
11:30pm – Beer poo.
12:30am – Try to sleep. Body too broken to even achieve that.
1am – Start playing video games. Big mistake. Start feeling much better.
4am – Realise it is 4am. Feel almost back to full health.
6am – Go to sleep.
10am – Alarm clock goes off as you have to start working. Will to live completely goes.
7pm – Return to scene of crime. Be told of full details. Be surprised you were even allowed back in. Start planning fireworks night party to do it all over again.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
For my two returning visitors....
....I'm currently away this week. I'm not on a holiday as such, its more like a work camp. I'm staying at my cousin's nursery\orchard type thing while I help him lay some new industrial flower beds. It is all fun and games.
Unforntunately, the end result is no post today. Have an epic picture and make do. See you Thursday!
Unforntunately, the end result is no post today. Have an epic picture and make do. See you Thursday!
Sunday, 25 October 2009
NFL in the UK
Well, today the NFL is playing at Wembley. As I type this I'm watching that game on the telly while keeping track of the Vikings vs Steelers on Game Pass. I'm a little bit of a huge fan. I do feel guilty not being at Wembley, like as a fan I have some obligation that I have to go, but frankly I have no desire to watch Tampa struggle to get anything going while the Patriots get a nice lead then kill the clock for three quarters. Oh, and having to pay £160 for the pleasure. A probable £250 Sunday late in the month just before Christmas isn't cool.
Oh look, Tampa just threw an interception. That was totally unexpected...
Anyway, even though I'm not there I do love the NFL. But there appears to be a bit of anti-NFL in the UK feeling out there. Chris Chase wrote a pretty scathing piece, and a lot of the commentators in absolutely any US based NFL blog have been very against the whole thing. I'm all for it. I get rather excited when Roger Goodell gets chatting about adding another game or maybe even a Franchise.
But there is a little something that I would like to see before we get all of that stuff. It's a very basic thing. That is some decent TV coverage.
You see, for those who don't know the TV coverage for NFL over here has taken a major nose dive. Coming into last season, we had a full compliment of magazine shows and 6 games a week live on the telly box. This year, we have magazine shows shown so long after the games that they are irrelevant, the same re-runs of NFL documentaries that have been on Sky for the last 2 years and only 3 live games a week. Next year, under the terms of the current contracts, it will drop to 2 as Five is scrapping all late night sports to show a television casino type thing.
I doubt that the NFL will ever do it, but if they truly want to grow the game then they should consider maybe subsidising TV contracts to boost the number of games back up to a realistic full compliment of 6per week. Maybe they could try providing edited versions of their TV magazine shows for international markets, as they are currently so full of advertising they can't be shown until 5 days after the events.
I can see where the NFL is going with their expansion plans. See if the UK market can support 4 games a year, then maybe give them a franchise. But please, please can we sort out the basics first?
Oh look, Tampa just threw an interception. That was totally unexpected...
Anyway, even though I'm not there I do love the NFL. But there appears to be a bit of anti-NFL in the UK feeling out there. Chris Chase wrote a pretty scathing piece, and a lot of the commentators in absolutely any US based NFL blog have been very against the whole thing. I'm all for it. I get rather excited when Roger Goodell gets chatting about adding another game or maybe even a Franchise.
But there is a little something that I would like to see before we get all of that stuff. It's a very basic thing. That is some decent TV coverage.
You see, for those who don't know the TV coverage for NFL over here has taken a major nose dive. Coming into last season, we had a full compliment of magazine shows and 6 games a week live on the telly box. This year, we have magazine shows shown so long after the games that they are irrelevant, the same re-runs of NFL documentaries that have been on Sky for the last 2 years and only 3 live games a week. Next year, under the terms of the current contracts, it will drop to 2 as Five is scrapping all late night sports to show a television casino type thing.
I doubt that the NFL will ever do it, but if they truly want to grow the game then they should consider maybe subsidising TV contracts to boost the number of games back up to a realistic full compliment of 6per week. Maybe they could try providing edited versions of their TV magazine shows for international markets, as they are currently so full of advertising they can't be shown until 5 days after the events.
I can see where the NFL is going with their expansion plans. See if the UK market can support 4 games a year, then maybe give them a franchise. But please, please can we sort out the basics first?
Thursday, 22 October 2009
BNP on Question Time
Now, who thinks that I can get through an entire article on such a delicate and polarising subject without either committing libel, insulting someone or writing something stupid that will come back to haunt me? Yeah, me neither. This is also going to be one of those wordy, serious bits. Sorry about that.
Tonight the British National Party is on Question Time.
For any non-British people reading this, the British National Party are essentially anti-immigration, anti-anything-not-typically-British sorts who want to stop immigration, 'voluntarily' repatriate anyone who is not of white Anglo Saxon descent and turn the entire country into some white supremacy state. Yeah, those sorts.
Lets see if I can write about it without incriminating myself.
For the record, and to start off with, I do not support or like the BNP. They want to live in some deluded, isolated world that is reminiscent of the sort of thing that Enoch Powell dreamt of. I love multiculturalism, I love the fact that so many different types of people live here and I love the way that the UK has been changed by it. We used to own most of the world. Now most of the world is represented inside our shores.
That being said, I do sort of 'agree' with the BNP on certain things. Now, once again, I do not like nor support them. But they do have the odd good point. At times this country does compromise core values for the sake of political correctness. At times, especially when dealing with local government, it does seem that indigenous Brits get a bit of a raw deal. I can understand the frustrations that have bread this party. I feel an awful lot of them at times.
But the BNP is in no way, shape or form the way forward.
Although they have dressed themselves up in recent years to get away from the skin heads and swastikas of their past as the National Front, they still hold the same core values. They have been caught lying about racial murders at support rallys. Nick Griffin, the party leader and public face of the BNP, has been caught calling Islam a “wicked” religion.
They are not the sorts of people you would invite to a dinner party, lets say.
But the problem is that the sentiments they feed off are present in British life. And none of the mainstream parties seem to be willing to confront them, as often if they do people jump up and down and shout “racist!” at them. This has lead to the BNP emerging as a party who not only don't care about courting controversy, but thrive under it. The amount of press attention they get is hugely disproportionate to their actual standing in the political spectrum.
Many British people, myself even at times, feel the frustrations that the BNP claims to want to solve. Simple things, like making St Georges Day a national holiday, stopping the scaling back of Christmas so as not to insult or intimidate people of other religions. At the sight of it, it is a perfectly nice set of policies. But still hidden underneath that are the policies of repatriation and stopping immigration.
In a way, the BNP are good for politics. Once again, I do not like or support them. But they ignite debate over sensitive issues. The only problem is the main parties refuse to deal with them or the issues they raise, meaning that the BNP gain ground.
Tonight, when Nick Griffin sits amongst 'real' politicians and debates, hopefully it will kick start the larger debate. The only way to stamp out the BNP is for mainstream parties to address the same issues as them. The fact that the BNP can get the votes they do on racial issues alone, issues that larger parties mainly shy away from, shows that it is a pressing issue for many.
Once again, I do not like or support them. But I can sort of see where they are coming from. I do not like, support or totally agree with them. I cannot say that enough.
As for the whole debate on whether they should even be allowed on Question Time or not, I think they should be. Like it nor not, they are a party that gets votes, has a Member of European Parliament and a person on the London Assembley (the group that governs this nation's capital). They are represented. Not letting them on is pure censorship of the free media. I would much rather live in a country that lets a party like that exist than censors them. Once again, I'm not a supporter of them by any stretch, I'm just a supporter of democracy and free speech. On the other end of the spectrum, I believe the extremist Muslim group that wants to protest in London for the immediate implementation of Sharia Law should be able to. It is their opinion. If they can voice it in a peaceful way, then go for it. Free speech.
The one repercussion, though, of having Nick Griffin on Question Time is the chance that he actually does a good job, and comes over as sane, logical and normal. The consequences of that...
Anyway. I'll sign off with what I think needs to be done to fix the frustrations and issues that the BNP feeds off of. Because I'm a glutton for punishment.
St Georges Day needs to be made a national holiday. Give everyone the day off work, hold some big events in city centres and the like. Currently, I make more of an effort to go out and have a Guinness on St Patrick's day than I do have an ale on St Georges day.
Also, at the end of the day, this country is by nature a Christian\Catholic\Church of England country. All three celebrate Christmas. Don't scale it back with 'Happy Holidays' and 'Season's Greetings' and the like, while we take the Christ out of it and call it Xmas. Let kids do their nativity play. But, by the same stretch, let kids do a Ramadan or Diwali play. Celebrate all the religions' major events. Immigration needs to be looked at, although my political knowledge is not great enough for me to interject an idea of how.
The BNP are dangerous. Hopefully tonight, though, they will do some good by sparking the debate which brings out the issues they thrive upon. This will allow the major parties to tackle them, hopefully adopt some of the more sane policies that the BNP has used to gain a foothold in British politics and, in doing so, cut their legs out from under them.
Tonight the British National Party is on Question Time.
For any non-British people reading this, the British National Party are essentially anti-immigration, anti-anything-not-typically-British sorts who want to stop immigration, 'voluntarily' repatriate anyone who is not of white Anglo Saxon descent and turn the entire country into some white supremacy state. Yeah, those sorts.
Lets see if I can write about it without incriminating myself.
For the record, and to start off with, I do not support or like the BNP. They want to live in some deluded, isolated world that is reminiscent of the sort of thing that Enoch Powell dreamt of. I love multiculturalism, I love the fact that so many different types of people live here and I love the way that the UK has been changed by it. We used to own most of the world. Now most of the world is represented inside our shores.
That being said, I do sort of 'agree' with the BNP on certain things. Now, once again, I do not like nor support them. But they do have the odd good point. At times this country does compromise core values for the sake of political correctness. At times, especially when dealing with local government, it does seem that indigenous Brits get a bit of a raw deal. I can understand the frustrations that have bread this party. I feel an awful lot of them at times.
But the BNP is in no way, shape or form the way forward.
Although they have dressed themselves up in recent years to get away from the skin heads and swastikas of their past as the National Front, they still hold the same core values. They have been caught lying about racial murders at support rallys. Nick Griffin, the party leader and public face of the BNP, has been caught calling Islam a “wicked” religion.
They are not the sorts of people you would invite to a dinner party, lets say.
But the problem is that the sentiments they feed off are present in British life. And none of the mainstream parties seem to be willing to confront them, as often if they do people jump up and down and shout “racist!” at them. This has lead to the BNP emerging as a party who not only don't care about courting controversy, but thrive under it. The amount of press attention they get is hugely disproportionate to their actual standing in the political spectrum.
Many British people, myself even at times, feel the frustrations that the BNP claims to want to solve. Simple things, like making St Georges Day a national holiday, stopping the scaling back of Christmas so as not to insult or intimidate people of other religions. At the sight of it, it is a perfectly nice set of policies. But still hidden underneath that are the policies of repatriation and stopping immigration.
In a way, the BNP are good for politics. Once again, I do not like or support them. But they ignite debate over sensitive issues. The only problem is the main parties refuse to deal with them or the issues they raise, meaning that the BNP gain ground.
Tonight, when Nick Griffin sits amongst 'real' politicians and debates, hopefully it will kick start the larger debate. The only way to stamp out the BNP is for mainstream parties to address the same issues as them. The fact that the BNP can get the votes they do on racial issues alone, issues that larger parties mainly shy away from, shows that it is a pressing issue for many.
Once again, I do not like or support them. But I can sort of see where they are coming from. I do not like, support or totally agree with them. I cannot say that enough.
As for the whole debate on whether they should even be allowed on Question Time or not, I think they should be. Like it nor not, they are a party that gets votes, has a Member of European Parliament and a person on the London Assembley (the group that governs this nation's capital). They are represented. Not letting them on is pure censorship of the free media. I would much rather live in a country that lets a party like that exist than censors them. Once again, I'm not a supporter of them by any stretch, I'm just a supporter of democracy and free speech. On the other end of the spectrum, I believe the extremist Muslim group that wants to protest in London for the immediate implementation of Sharia Law should be able to. It is their opinion. If they can voice it in a peaceful way, then go for it. Free speech.
The one repercussion, though, of having Nick Griffin on Question Time is the chance that he actually does a good job, and comes over as sane, logical and normal. The consequences of that...
Anyway. I'll sign off with what I think needs to be done to fix the frustrations and issues that the BNP feeds off of. Because I'm a glutton for punishment.
St Georges Day needs to be made a national holiday. Give everyone the day off work, hold some big events in city centres and the like. Currently, I make more of an effort to go out and have a Guinness on St Patrick's day than I do have an ale on St Georges day.
Also, at the end of the day, this country is by nature a Christian\Catholic\Church of England country. All three celebrate Christmas. Don't scale it back with 'Happy Holidays' and 'Season's Greetings' and the like, while we take the Christ out of it and call it Xmas. Let kids do their nativity play. But, by the same stretch, let kids do a Ramadan or Diwali play. Celebrate all the religions' major events. Immigration needs to be looked at, although my political knowledge is not great enough for me to interject an idea of how.
The BNP are dangerous. Hopefully tonight, though, they will do some good by sparking the debate which brings out the issues they thrive upon. This will allow the major parties to tackle them, hopefully adopt some of the more sane policies that the BNP has used to gain a foothold in British politics and, in doing so, cut their legs out from under them.
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