Random musings of a Josh

More Sun and Snow

2009-02-25T21:45:00.001Z

Waking up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to fly off to the French Alps once again. More snow and more ski! Friends have been going and they all come back with the same report “this is the best I've ever seen it!”

Unlike any other time I've been the weather this season seems, for want of a better word, ideal. I wont bore you with tales of me trekking across glaciers, avoiding avalanches, instead, I'll tell you about a Sunday, out in London in what I can only describe as Arctic conditions.

It was freezing! We decided to head out and take a long walk, taking pictures along the way, we never expected such cold winds but by the time we realised what we were in for, it was too late. So on we went taking pictures and finding cafes along our path.

Unfortunatly, at the same time, my Macbook's hard drive died on me but thanks to backups, not a lot was lost. I've only just got a new drive in and the Canon software installed so I could download the pictures from that weekend, the results:

http://hjoshi.zenfolio.com/p745173741

Slightly uninspired but here for your judgement.....

Effort

2009-02-11T21:48:00.002Z

Amazingly I get a lot of spam, yes I know that I'm in the minority here and spam is just not a problem for the vast majority of internet users. I feel sorry for the legitimate pharmacist or hand bag seller or former ousted minister who desperately needs help in getting access to his multi million dollar fortune. These people just can not get a break as their emails are often mistaken for spam and are ignored.

I would like to bring to your attention one such guy, he almost slipped through the net but as I was clearing out my spam folder, I thought I'd take the time to read what one Kevin Qu had to say.

Reply-To: 
From: "kevin Qu"
Subject: RE: JOB OFFER

Hello Sir/Madam,

TRANSLATED FROM CHINESE TO ENGLISH PLEASE PARDON ANY GRAMMATICAL ERROR:

My name is Mr.Kevin Qu and I am a manager of Beijing Richman
International Trade Co.,Ltd China, there is an opportunity of home 
base business, and I am contacting you because we are now in need of a 
Payment Representative in the United kingdom. So I would like to offer 
you a part time job as our payment Representative and you can earn 
between 1,000 - 3,000UK pounds in a month depending on your Speed, 
Accuracy and Devotion to your work.

WHAT YOU NEED TO DO FOR US?
My Company needs a financial representative in the United
kingdom who will serve as our Agent in processing any of our funds 
made out to us by our UK Customers and Clients this is because We make 
lots of supplies to some of our clients in the United kingdom for 
which I do come to the UK to receive payment & have it cashed after I 
supply them raw materials.And that is why we seek your time and
assistance because Its always too expensive & stressful for me to come 
to the UK to receive such payments twice in a month.

JOB DESCRIPTIONS?
1. Receive payment from Clients
2. Deduct 10 percent which will be your percentage/pay on
Payment processed.
3. Forward balance after deduction of percentage/pay to any
of the Offices you Will be contacted to send payment to (Payment is to
Forwarded either By Money Gram / Western Union Money Transfer).

HOW MUCH WILL YOU EARN?
10 percent from each operation! For instance: you receive
1000UK Pounds on our behalf. You will collect the money and
Keep 100UK pounds (10 percent from 1000UK pounds) for yourself! 
At the beginning your commission will equal 10percent, though later it will 
increase up to 12percent!

DO YOU NEED TO PAY FOR THE TRANSFER FEE FROM YOUR
PERCENTAGE?
No you do not have to; all necessary transfer fees should be
deducted from the Balance after you must have cashed and 
deduct your 10percent of total money Received While finish cashing.

ADVANTAGES
You do not have to go out as you will work as an independent
contractor Right From your home / office. Your job is absolutely legal. 
You can earn up To 3000-4000UK pounds monthly depending on time 
you will spend for this job. You do not need any capital to start. 
You can do the Work easily without leaving or affecting your present Job. 
The employees who make efforts and work hard have A Strong Possibility to 

become managers. 
Anyway our employees never leave us.

MAIN REQUIREMENTS,
18 years or older,
Legally capable,
Responsible,
Ready to work 3-4 hours per week. With PC knowledge
E-mail and internet experience (minimal)
If you are interested in our offer, and would like to work
for Beijing Richman International Trade Co.,Ltd

Kindly fill the application below.

EMPLOYMENT  APPLICATION  FORM
First Name________________ Middle Name_______________ Last
Name________________Residential
Address_____________________________
City ____________________State ________ __________Zip
_____________Home
Telephone Number______________________Personal cell phone
Number______________________Gender ____________ Marital
Status
____________________Age _____________ Nationality
______________________Are
you a U.K. citizen or otherwise authorized to work in the
U.K._________

Please note: only interested applicants should respond. And
check your email back for response within 24 hours...... and i will 
like you to reply your EMPLOYMENT  APPLICATION  FORM to this email 
address below :kevinqu_rep@live.co.uk

Regards,

Mr.Kevin Qu

Beijing Richman International Trade Co.,Ltd
www.richmancashmere.com 
Registered Nos. 01424399 and 2355834

Now, at first glance I thought “I love my job, I'm not looking for another one” but then I realised that potentially I can make a lot of money with very little effort!

What sometimes happens is that a cheque is sent to you, you deposit it into your account and because of the way the banks work, it will show up in your account before the funds are actually cleared. Of course, you will get a bigger reward if you act quickly and transfer the funds via western union within a day or so. This is all well and good until you learn (in about 5 working days) that the cheque you deposited has bounced and you've just paid out from your own money.

The problem is that old scams like this make it incredibly difficult for people like the sender of this email to be taken seriously. Personally, I think the guy here put in a fair amount of effort. For example, the website is indeed for a textile company in Bejing, and is managed by Mr. Kevin Qu. The guy who sent me this email went to the trouble of creating a live.co.uk email address that looks like it could belong, alas it is different from the one on the website.

A few pointers to the guy who sent me this email:

cashmere@richmancashmere.com is the email the ligitamate company use for enquiries, why would they ask you to send applications to a live.co.uk email?

Spelling and grammar, yes you are making this out to be a roughly translated email but even so, take a moment or two to scan though the email before you click 'send'.

So, you would like me to make payments via western union, clearly you have the technology so why on earth are you making 2 trips to the UK a month? Get your clients to use western union, or better still, an international bank transfer! This is what I call a spam plot hole.

Reading the headers of the email, I see you are using 3G broadband from the UK perhaps this is why your trips to the UK are so 'expensive' and 'stressful' perhaps wait until you are back in China before sending me a job offer, this way you won't have to use live.co.uk.

Quality scams that require the scammer to put in an iota of effort, is that too much to ask?

Sun, Snow and Santa

2008-12-23T06:24:00.000Z

It's been a while since my last post and though I've been making an effort to read a number of blogs, even comment occasionally, I've really dropped the ball when it comes to updating my own. For this reason, I sit here in the back of a cab tapping away at a keyboard while zooming to the airport.

This time of year is traditionally a busy one for me mostly because of work (I manage a team of elves) but also because this is the time of year most people call me to catchup. We meet up for dinner and talk about the great advances we've made over the past 12 months.

This year has been a pretty static one, just like this time last year, I still live in the same place, have the same job and am still single. That's not to say it's been a boring one, I feel like a lot has been done, it's just that non of it has had a traditionally major impact in my life. Small things like cycling great distances or passing my driving test have marked this year as unique.

Also, a number of cousins, friends and my sister have given birth so this has also been a good year to be with family and lots of shopping at mothercare. All that being said, I'm about to jump on a plane to take me away from it all and into the French Alps.

This is a trip I've been looking forward to for a while, I want to ski! We have a great tradition this time of year, we all get away from family and the stresses of work to meet up in a small place out in the mountains, drink to absent friends, eat until bursting point and take in the dramatic mountain scenery.

After lighting some candles on a real Christmas tree, New Year's eve quickly rears it's head. A few fireworks, more food and more drink, we head our separate ways and back to what now passes as normal for my life.

I look forward to 2009, with luck I'll be kept busy. Rest assured, I'll make much more of an effort to update the blog more often, I just hope there are people out there who still check it when I do.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Touched By His Noodly Appendage

2008-11-28T00:21:00.007Z

It's odd, people often talk about faith and the lack of evidence in god in a hand-wavy matter-of-fact way but it's quite difficult to fully grasp what this means. Most can be presented with facts and figures but all that doesn't really sink in as there are too many intelligent, respectable people telling you otherwise.

A few years ago I stumbled upon a site which blew that all away and showed (granted, in a fairly indirect way) the strength of the evidence by proposing another hypothesis that also fit the 'facts'. It all started in 2005 when the Kansas school board held a hearing to decide on whether or not intelligent design should be taught alongside evolution theory in the classroom.

The argument here was that there is as much evidence in intelligent design as there is in the theory of evolution. This is, of course, a complete fallacy! Sure, Darwin hasn't been proved entirely and the existence of god has not been disproved 100% (completely proving a negative is impossible as any experimental scientist will tell you); but the evidence for evolution and against intelligent design is overwhelming, to the point where it seems ridiculous to put the two on anything approaching an even keel.

Now part of the problem of putting intelligent design on the curriculum is that most religions have creation theories that have an equal weighting in evidence is the Christian one (as proposed by the Kansas school board). So which one to teach? At this point a completely new and unheard of theory came to light, with an open letter written to the Kansas school board, urging them to consider the flying spaghetti monster as a valid theory. As the letter shows, there is as much (factual) weight behind this as there is in a Christian god.

And thus, the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster was born. What's really worth mentioning is the correlation between pirates and the average global temperature, genius!

Fog Lights Off

2008-11-22T15:00:00.001Z

It's rare but from time to time, I come across a great idea that's so great, so useful that I can't imagine how life was like before it. The other day, I saw just that. While waiting for a bus I noticed a police car pull up at the lights. They has a scrolling message board stuck on top by the flashing lights; as the car behind pulled up, they must have been slightly blinded by the fog lights as, on the board, they put up “fog lights off”.

The guy took notice, turned off his fog lights and they all went on their merry way. Imagine, if you will the unlimited crime fighting possibilities that this will bring up. As the car drives by they could put up the message “could you please stop mugging him” or “that knife looks a bit threatening”. Perhaps as they pull into a café: “coffee, black, 3 sugars”.

They shouldn't stop there, this could have more social benefits when displaying sighs like “is that shell suite really necessary” or “your trousers really don't go with your jacket”..... It is great to see the Metropolitan police trying out new things to make this city a better place.

Eyes Down

2008-11-17T22:41:00.001Z

I keep going back to a local restaurant because (and this is the main reason) the food is good. On top of that, a nice service is a good bonus. Now, I rarely send things back as I'm well aware that mistakes are made in the kitchen and I don't need things to be just so, in fact at times a mistake can improve a dish!

The other day, I was in said restaurant and while waiting over 30 minutes for our main course to be served (they were hosting a party and understaffed) I ordered a pineapple juice. It arrived warm, by this I don't mean room temperature, I mean warm! I managed to get the waiter's attention as he was standing by the bar, it was quite definitive; I waved my friends saw the wave, he saw the wave, even the barman saw the wave.

As the waiter makes his way over, I look forward to sipping on a cool glass of pineapple juice soon. A he approaches the table, he lowers his gaze, ignores us and walks on by. I was baffled as to what just transpired, much to the amusement of my friends, how rude.

Sure, we've all spotted someone in the street, someone you really don't want to speak to, so you avert your eyes and walk on by hoping the person hasn't seen you; but this is something else, I was left telling my disbelieving friends that I swore he saw me....

The Year of Creativity (So Far)

2008-11-12T23:37:00.001Z

This is going to seem like I jumped on the band wagon after the fact but that's just not true! I was an avid follower of a blog titled hermitguide, it wasn't about anything in particular but was always an interesting read. The author (Graham Nunn, who has been seen on more than one occasion lingering about these pages) would muse about mugging old ladies (no not really, it was a joke, he did not actually go out and do this!) and gave the world the excel dance all this whilst he was writing a three-times-a-week web comic ('doormat picnic').

I think that this was too ridged and didn't really take advantage of what it is he can do with photoshop (it's like paper and an infinitely big set of crayons). So 43 days ago, he launched 'Once Around the Sun', with the massively ambitious plan of posting one creative 'thing' a day for an entire year!

His efforts range from the comic to the serious, he sometimes sticks to common themes, sometimes topical or sometimes utterly random. We have the photo-realistic, we have the artistic and we also have the outright surreal, and everything in between! It's a great blog, which I hope you take the time to check out, believe me, it'll be worth it.

Bookmark it, take some time to go through the previous entries and then perch your self on the edge of your seat as you see what happens next...

Monk Bust Up

2008-11-09T21:35:00.000Z

Imagine, if you will seven different sects of the same religion, working together to maintain peace and harmony for all. I'm taking about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the supposed tomb of Christ (you'll note I didn't say 'final resting place'). They do a good job in keeping and maintaining the Church but the problem is they don't really like each other. For this reason, the complicated sharing of responsibilities that has evolved over the years is followed to the letter, even the slightest divergence from status quo is bound to upset people.

On a hot day during the summer of 2002 a Coptic monk who was stationed on the roof to express Coptic claims there (this is a given but the monk still sits there), moved his chair to a spot in the shade. Unfortunately the Ethiopian Orthodox monks saw this as an act of aggression and the resulting farce saw eleven people hospitalised.

With this amount of tension amongst the tightly wound monks one really has to wonder what was going through a Greek Orthodox monk's mind when he picked the time the Armenian Apostolic monks prepared to mark the annual Feast of the Cross to go into the Edicule. Yes that's right, it makes no sense at all, regardless from which angle you choose to see. With this obvious violation to status quo, it's not shocking to learn that these monks came to blows over this, throwing whatever they could get their hands on.

The police were called in and a number of people were arrested but as I see the footage and read the story I can think only one thing: What the Fuck?!

The Times, They Are A Changing

2008-11-05T21:02:00.001Z

I'm sure everyone that reads this will be aware of the momentous event that occurred last night. America held it's presidential election with a whopping 70% of people turning up to cast their vote. The president of the United States, like it or not, will make decisions that effect the entire world. For this reason, I hoped that the people of the US would not vote in an out of touch old man and the funniest woman alive.

My faith wasn't misplaced in this case as with a landslide victory, Barack Obama is the new president elect. He promises change, in terms of foreign policy, and is willing to take steps that other world leaders refuse to. I'm incredibly optimistic about his term in office, after eight years of frustration with George W. Bush and choices he made that almost made me tear my hair out!

So, I sit here on the edge of my seat, let's see what happens once he takes office; I know that the 'honeymoon' period will be short and he'll be under close scrutiny. I have faith that the choices he'll make, will be choices for the better.

Great Impressions

2008-11-02T14:08:00.001Z

Tina Fey (American comedian and one of the funniest women alive) does a great impression of Sarah Palin (American governor and one of the funniest women alive, though probably not intentionally). In the run up to the US elections (Tuesday, I believe), Fey and been bringing her Palin character to Saturday Night Live with a number of sketches, it's like watching Palin herself!

This time though, she was out done by a guy who does the best impression of senator John McCain:

Imagine my disappointment when I learned that this wasn't a great impression but was, indeed, John McCain himself. Yes it reeks of desperation but it is hilarious!

Does Nothing, Goes Nowhere

2008-11-01T13:58:00.006Z

Last night, I went out to see the new Bond movie 'Quantum of Solace'. I don't really know what I was expecting, after seeing a number of adverts by Ford, Sony and even Coke using Bond to flaunt their products, I knew the integrity (ish) and style of 'Casino Royal' was gone. It was a huge disappointment, even the gorgeous Olga Kurylenko couldn't half-save it.

So rather than rant about how pointless and disappointing this film was, and believe me, it was; Bond villains should make you quake in your boots, they should be crazy, will stop at nothing to rule the world, this one wasn't. I'll make a mention of another film, loosely related as Kurylenko starred in one of the 5 minute segments, I'm talking about one of my favourite films, 'Paris, je t'aime'.

Paris (the city not the Hilton airhead) is split into 20 districts, starting at the Louvre and numbered as you move outward in a clockwise spiral. The concept of the film was to make twenty stories, 5 minutes long, directed by different people which are loosely based around the theme of love. At some point during production, two of the segments were dropped so Paris, je t'aime consists of 18 short films.

The film features some well known directors and actors, for example: the segment about the the 1st district (titled “Tuileries”) stars Steve Buscemi and throughout the entire sequence, he doesn't say a word but it's truly brilliant and sums up the age old rule: never make eye contact on the Metro.

The film about the 16th is just beautiful. Some of the segments are comedies, some are just plain weird (the Eiffel tower one and 'Porte de Choisy'). A few of the segments are heart breaking and some are quite intense (I remember one of the segments was filmed, entirely, in one shot). In short, there really is something for everybody in this movie it really is worth getting and I can almost guarantee that you'll love it!

This is one of the few films that I knew I would get on DVD as soon as I walked out of the cinema. I believe the producers are making an equivalent for New York and though I doubt it can be as good, I'll be sure to catch it when it comes out.

Dogs, Purple Elephants and Bad Light

2008-10-28T22:52:00.003Z

Meeting up with a few friends with the intention of walking around, taking a few pictures and maybe getting some lunch in the process didn't seem like a bad way of spending a Saturday. Though, as always, the company was good; the light was not (too much cloud) and neither was the inspiration. It speaks volumes when all the three of us could do was take clichéd photos of red phone boxes and the like.

With the threat of rain constantly hovering over us, we walked over to St. Paul's Cathedral where we ran into a bunch of students who, for some inexplicable reason were dressed up as animals (notice the waving dog), the weirdest of which was a big purple elephant. No, I got no reasonable breakdown as to why someone would want to do this, let alone parade around London's biggest tourist attraction like this.

This was a far cry from a few weeks ago when we did pretty much the same thing but in glorious sunshine, it lead to a great day with some pretty good pictures (it was the day I saw the 'Ghost Bridge'). Near the end of that day, we ended up opposite the Palace of Westminster where I snapped this picture. It inspired me to go through the trouble of getting it printed.

The walls in my flat are quite bare and it's been to my list of 'things to do' to get some pictures printed, framed and hung up. Unfortunately, being almost completely lazy, I've managed to do nothing about it. I contacted the nice people at bigfoot imaging who basically took the picture, retouched it and made it look absolutely amazing on paper! Granted I'm still pretty lazy so I've yet to get a frame for it but I've taken the first step, I've got something printed....

You've Got me on my Knees

2008-10-24T23:35:00.001+01:00

I don't listen to much radio (I don't own one) but when I'm in someone's car something is usually on. More often than not (in my brother-in-law's car) it's Virgin radio, usually an odd mix of classic rock and modern crap. A few weeks ago the radio station reinvented itself as 'Absolute', it's essentially the same thing but with subtle differences.

They say that one of their revolutionary changes is that they play all songs in full! Amazing, I thought, there are so many songs out there that are too long for radio, they take a 10 minute song and reduce it to 3 for the sake of their schedule. I say if you can't find time to play it in full then why on earth play it?

Driving along and through the crackle, I hear Laya by Derek and the Dominos, it's one of my all time favorite songs. It has an instantly recognisable introduction and some great guitaring (shockingly it was not Eric Clapton playing the opening section but Duane Allman) throughout. This made me go into my usual rant that most people wont ever get to hear the excellent piano in the second half as pretty much every station will cut it before it comes on. The point where the song is usually cut came and went and the piano came on, I couldn't believe it, they were going to devote prime broadcasting time to the entire song, how refreshing.

The lyrics of the song are amazing, the title was based on the Persian poem 'Layla and Majnun'. The poem is about a guy who falls madly in love with a triable princess named Layla, he can do nothing but think of her all day and writes a number of poems about her. I can't remember much of the story but I do remember he asks for her hand in marriage and is refused by her father, Layla eventually marries another man (of her father's choosing) , on this, our hero wonders off into the desert; he slowly goes insane with the thought of never being able to be with the woman he loves.

All this isn't completely irrelevant in terms of the song, as the story goes, Clapton fell in love with George Harrison's (yes the Beatles guy) wife, naturally he can't be with her and (I guess) this is where the song comes from. A guy (a poet if you will) falls for a girl, it's forbidden love just like the poem. He longs for her and rather than writing poems for her, he writes one of the greatest rock songs ever!

Clapton's story and the poem diverge at this point as I believe George Harrison's wife left him and married Clapton in the end (though I think that ended in divorce, such it life); that and I don't think Clapton ever went insane, but don't quote me on that.

I digress, what made me think about this was a tiny little gem Clapton put at the very end of the song. I don't know how he does it but he stretches the guitar string in such a way as to make a bird 'chirping' sound. This was supposedly a nod to the great jazz legend Charlie 'The Bird' Parker; believe me (or not, listen for your self), after it's all died down and the song is over, you'll hear the bird, almost as an afterthought.

Absolute radio, playing the song in 'full', they manage an impressive seven or eight minutes, they get both parts in but the very last note, the 'bird'; it was nowhere to be heard, shocking, after all that air-play, they cut the last half second.....

Momentum of a Runaway Bus

2008-10-22T20:24:00.003+01:00

Monday night I mentioned how Ariane Sherine launched the Atheist Campaign, in an attempt to reassure Londoners that they need not worry about not believing in God as He probably doesn't exist and they won't go to hell.

By the time I got into work the next morning, she had published an article on the Guardian's comment is free site. This got the ball rolling and people stated to donate, these people emailed their friends, they emailed their friends and before you know it, a viral campaign was born. The story was picked up by The Telegraph, BBC News, The Times, The Washington Post and a whole heap of other publications (across the globe!).

Interviews were given, commentaries were made and with each iteration, people went to the donate site and gave a few pounds. Ten hours after the campaign launched, their goal of £5,500 was reached, fourteen hours, it was doubled! By lunchtime today, they have over ten times their goal!

A lot of hard work went into this and the success they have had so far is well deserved. This is an idea that people can get behind, it's not threatening, not 'in your face', very approachable and (I'd argue most importantly) it brings a smile to most that see it.

What started out as a few adverts to run for a few weeks has turned into something much bigger, why stop at London? Why just buses? It's getting to a point now that reason can be promoted wherever the threat of eternal damnation is.

A lot of people have donated but the momentum is still strong, so head on down, check out the website, leave a comment and put a few pounds down! Fundamentalists have had a free ride for a long time, I'm glad reasonable people are doing something about it but more importantly, I'm glad the public have spoken and are backing the campaign in huge numbers, almost makes you have faith...

All Aboard!

2008-10-20T23:52:00.002+01:00

It all started with an article on the Guardian's Comment is Free site, a friend noticed an advert on the side of a bus which essentially said “accept Jesus as your saviour or go to hell!”, a disturbing message if you ask me. Rather than doing what I did, which was acknowledge it as a part of a plethora of religious adverts out there and do nothing about it, she suggested running a more comforting advert telling people that, if they did just get on with their lives, they won't go to hell.

The idea picked up momentum with people pledging £5 towards what became known as “the atheist bus”. Although, not enough people pledged to make the advert runnable, enough people did pledge to make the idea feasible. So after a lot more planning, writing and organizing, Ariane Sherine proudly launches “the atheist campaign” tonight!

The message is a simple one “There's probably no god. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” People need to know that if they don't devote their entire life to god and Jesus, they won't suffer eternal damnation! With everything else that's wrong with the world today, why should people bow to a doctrine that was essentially constructed to ease the worries of people in the dark ages?

For this reason, I'm planning to donate and I ask you to head on over to http://www.atheistcampaign.org/, have a read and join me in supporting this campaign, we can get a positive message out to people, not to change their minds or 'convert' them but to reassure them and, maybe, put a smile on their faces....

A Touch of Frost

2008-10-18T23:43:00.001+01:00

Pretty much everyone knows about or has seen the famous 1977 Richard Nixon interviews, for those that haven't I've found 10 minutes of 'highlights' on YouTube. It was headline news back then as David Frost, who was not known that well in America but still a well accomplished journalist, some how got a full confession and an apology out of Nixon for the Watergate scandal. It's been deemed as one of the great interviews of the 20th century!

What I didn't know was the story behind the interviews was made into a west-end play which in itself was surprising. Today I learned a movie has been made based on the play, apparently it premiered this week at the BFI film festival (alas no invite) so I looked up a trailer for it. It looks great, unfortunately it's not out until January next year so I'm just going to have to wait.

Nixon resigned in 1974 after 'Watergate', when I first read about this, trying to figure out what was bad that the president of the United States would have to give us his post! Nixon was the only US president to have done this to date, Bill Clinton didn't do this after it was found that he outright lied to the American people.

After a bit of light reading, I picked up a copy of 'all the president's men' (I'd recommend it if you like thrillers) by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward who were the two journalists who bought the scandal to the public eye. Admittedly the story wasn't that easy to follow and I was just waiting for the big revelation that would tell me why the president stepped down. The revelation never came and it took me a while to realise why, I think as members of the public, we've been desensitised to scandal over the years.

What Nixon and his men did, wasn't that bad considering what we read about about today but I guess people had more faith in their public officials in the 70s. It's unfortunate that a scandal that would only just raise an eyebrow today was big enough to overshadow all of Nixon's great (yes there was quite a few) achievements back then.

Ghost Bridge

2008-10-12T01:25:00.000+01:00

Walking along the shores of the river Thames (it was low tide and not a torso in sight), we walked up to Blackfriars railway bridge. What a lot of people don't always notice is that just west of the railway are the remains of the old Blackfriars railway bridge. It was removed in 1985 as it wasn't strong enough to take the weight of modern trains.

What was left was the pillars that held up the original bridge. They look quite eerie standing alone with no bridge to support while just next door, it's bigger brother has trains going in and out all day long.

I'm obviously not alone in seeing this slightly chilling sight as they (the powers that be) have set up an art installation called 'The Ghost Bridge' where they have used green lasers that hover just above the pillars to make a bridge out of light. It was simply done and, once the sun went down, it looked pretty surreal, I quite liked it.

Ten Years in the Making

2008-10-08T18:27:00.001+01:00

Today has had the endorphins racing through my system, nothing major has happened, this is usually an experience most people have at the age of 17 but not me. Today, at the ripe old age of 27, I finally passed my driving test!

I'm not usually one to get nervous or stressed but this morning I was shaking, stuttering and generally crapping myself. I've (over the years) managed to fail, I think, five times for various reasons, including one disastrous test where the examiner fell asleep during the test!

Today was a slightly different matter, the nerves melted away and I think the drive went quite smoothly, I took my foot of the clutch for a moment so could place it in my mouth by asking the examiner: “where abouts in Italy are you from?” only to get the reply: “I'm polish”, oh dear.

We got to the end of the test and I was relived that he didn't ask me to do a 'bay park', he places a few marks on the sheet and tells me that I've passed with only three minors; that's fewer minors than Gary Glitter had!

He takes my license to get my details down and raises a well justified eyebrow at the 10 points I've acquired on a motor bike but doesn't bring it up (thankfully). Next thing to do (so people tell me) is to get a car but at the moment I don't really feel the need for one. Granted I live fairish distance from the city but I've not felt hindered by not having a mode of transportation, I mostly rely on the underground and frankly, most of the time, it's quicker.

Now with a nice clean line drawn under this I'm thinking maybe now is a good time to go back and finish my masters..... maybe not.

A Disturbed Mind

2008-10-07T00:03:00.000+01:00

I was working late in the office with a lukewarm coffee beside me and the jukebox playing whatever it felt like throwing at me. Usually this isn't too much of a problem as the songs in the collection are relatively tame and - baring some occasional cheese - not cringe worthy.

Every now and then, the unthinkable happens, I hear a song that leaves with unable to phantom the artist's intention or the song's meaning. Today it was 'Dead Puppies (aren't much fun)' by Ogden Edsel. What the hell was this guy smoking when he wrote this song?

They don't chase squirrels, they don't come when you call and that's just the start! I'm sure at one point, the deceased dog (who, by now, you've figured isn't very entertaining) is put in a stew. I don't think I can justly describe the song so I'll just link to it and call it a night, enjoy (and I'm sorry).

Dead Puppies (Aren't Much Fun)

A Forgotten Story?

2008-10-05T23:40:00.000+01:00

Sometimes you read a book or watch a movie that's quite good, that can stand up as a piece of fiction but, for some reason, people will want to dress it up as a true story. I was watching Sleepers the other night, a film I've not seen since I watched it in the cinema over 10 years ago.

Despite having some big names in it, it's been all but forgotten over the years. I don't know why as it's a film I'd recommend. It's a touching story set in Hell's Kitchen, New York in the 60s and is about four young boys who are sent to a correctional facility where they are tortured and raped by the guards. After release and into adulthood, two of the boys see one of the guards in a bar and shoots him.

The crux of the film is about the following court case in which the district attorney (another one of the original four) attempts to try the case in such a way as to get the murderers let off while bringing to light the horrors that went on at the facility.

The weird thing is the fact that no one seems to remember this, including the people I know I went to see this with! Granted, I've given little thought to this film over the years but as soon as I saw the name, I was able to recall the story, maybe not all the details but enough to know that it didn't completely slip out of my mind.

This time round, I learn that the author of the book claims it to be a true story, even though no evidence has been found to corroborate it, I find this adds nothing to the story but the thought's there non-the-less. It's crazy but people have actually looked into the details of this, I have no idea who but probably people with to much time on their hands (that is to say people with a smidgen more time on their hand than I have on mine).

All the controversy, I found this to be an unforgettable story....

Did I Ever Smell Like That?

2008-10-02T21:15:00.000+01:00

It's weird the way my opinions change at the drop of a hat or when a tiny bit of evidence comes to light. For years, I've been a smoker, from before I was legally allowed to buy cigarettes (the age was 16 back in them days, not 18 as it is now), I was puffing away without a care in the world.

People would often ask “did you go out for a smoke?” or tell me that they could smell the smoke. I could never tell, for one thing, I was too accustomed to the smell to know; I couldn't even smell it on others! I few months ago I decided to stop smoking and although I've lapsed a few times, I'm now a non-smoker and feel better for it.

A few nights ago, I was having dinner with a few friends and in between the starter and the main course, some of them popped out of a quick mid-meal cigarette. On there return, my entire world view was bought into question, I could smell the smoke and it was horrid. How on earth could I not have smelt that?

I've tried quitting a number of times with varying degrees of success but I've never experienced anything like this before, it was a full on assault on my nose! So I now realise that I've been incredibly antisocial but inflicting this smell on the people around me and what's worse is that I never once listened to anyone who would try to tell me this.

People who have quit tell me that food tastes better or that they can run faster, longer, jump higher and such but to be perfectly frank, I've not noticed any of that, I don't feel the least bit healthier but it's been worth it to get my sense of smell back; even if I didn't know I had lost it.

Monkeying Around

2008-09-28T15:48:00.000+01:00

Imagine being great at your job, imagine not only enjoying it but also creating something that blows the competition out of the water. About a year ago, that's exactly what an advertising agency did with the aid of a rhythmically aware gorilla; rumor has it, they just stuck the gorilla behind a drum kit, played a bit of Phil Collins and filmed the result.

This 90 second ad really made it big, though it did it's job by spreading the word according to Cadbury, it bought international fame to the gorilla in question. More so, the way the campaign took off bought Phil Collin's 'In the Air Tonight' back into the UK charts despite it never being re-released on CD! It was all down to viral marketing, the theory that if you are creative and make something that people will like and pass on to their friends, you can use your work as a vessel for a company's brand or message.

On a sunny Sunday morning, as I settle down to watch the first night-race of the Formula 1 grand prix. These races are becoming more and more disappointing as the years go by, this one in Singapore (which was the first ever 'night race') rightly followed the trend and was easily the most boring to date. During one of the adverts the famed gorilla came on but I wasn't smiling, I was disgusted!

In a thinly veiled attempt to ride the fame of the original, they re-cut the ad, replacing Phil Collins with Bonnie Tyler's 'Total Eclipse of the Heart', good cheese in it's own right but highly inappropriate for a drumming gorilla. What's worse is that they didn't ever re-shoot the commercial, they just slowed bit of it down and 'cut and paste' bit around, it was painful to watch.

It breaks my heart to see a great concept bought down to this level of crap for the sake of a few extra pounds. The lesson to be learned here is that if you do, somehow, achieve perfection, don't mess with it....

Top O' The Morning

2008-09-26T00:22:00.001+01:00

When making small talk, most of what people say should fall by the wayside after all, we are just making small talk. Someone may recommend a book or movie which, months later, will come to me when I'm sitting in front of a computer, so I go ahead and order it even though I don't remember the context of the conversation.

I watched Michael Collins, a film I sure to recommended by someone but I can't for the life of me remember who; if it was you, thanks! I find random recommendations often work out and this is no exception.

It's essentially about the first peace treaty between the British Empire and Ireland. How the Irish fought for a republic but got a 'free state' which some say was the start of all the troubles with the fighters breaking into the Irish free state army and what will go on to become the IRA. Like all movies that take a historical figure as the central character, the role is somewhat romanticised. Certain aspects and actions are omitted and artistic license is take over other aspects. This is all well and good so long as people realise that this is what they do in the movies, they make the heroes guys good and the villains bad, there's very little gray when it comes to public mass consumption.

This line between screen and reality isn't always respected, the bird man of Alcatraz was a classic example of this. People were rallying for his release after reading the book or watching the film, whereas anyone who had actually met the guy would outright say he should never be released, he was a drug addict and a dangerous man.

Elliot Ness may have been incorruptible but there was no mention in De Palma's movie about his drinking habits or his constant cheating on his wife. 'Henry Hill' was a gangster who sold out everyone around him, not for justice, but to save his own skin but in Wiseguys the book or Goodfellas the movie, he can do no wrong.

People (even great people in history) are flawed, that's what makes them human but in art, literature and film this is rarely ever seen; I'm not saying this is a bad thing, perfection in art is fine, so long as you appreciate that what you are seeing is not real....

I Saw the Sign, it Opened Up My Eyes

2008-09-25T00:40:00.001+01:00

Often, while walking past things, you tend to look at it and imagine the amount of time that went into creating it. Perhaps it's just me. A large building, for example, I think about someone saying “we need a building there” than designers, architects, builders, electricians, plumbers and the list goes on. Problems will invariably arise and people will get together have a meeting or two to solve it, you can't help but admire that.

Imagine one day, our friends at Severn Trent Water were, one day faced with a broken sign. A few of the guys got together and hammered out a solution. I'm sure this meeting had coffee and no doubt biscuits were served but that's all ok as these people had a problem and they were damned if they weren't going to collectively solve it.

I must ask, how many hours were collectively spent brain storming before they came upon this inventive stop-gap? Amazing!

This Season's Must Have

2008-09-18T00:32:00.000+01:00

I know nothing about fashion or what to wear when, sure I'm unlikely to turn up to a non-luau-themed wedding wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts but generally speaking, when it comes to cloths, I'm a bit lost at sea. I figure what most people do is judge others based on what they have read in fashion magazines and on TV.

While waiting for a couple of friends the other day, I spot Gok Wan (though I mistakingly referred to him as Gok Wang to a friend, live and learn) walking across the street and thought this is an ideal opportunity for me to figure out what I should be wearing based on what he was.

As I see it, black is back in, yes brown was the new black but that's old now so brown is actually now the old new black and black is now the new old black brown. Also, it would seem, an essential accessory to have at the moment is a bodyguard to keep away the thousands of screaming fans you have; it wasn't, at this point, clear if anyone else had recognised him but I'm sure the the bodyguard would have jumped into action if someone had.

I should point out that fashion can be expensive but as Wan himself says, you don't need to spend a fortune, you can make something budget look designer. I'll take his advice and this season, I'll mostly be accompanied by a large, official-looking, mate with an ear-piece....

Mad Mash

2008-09-15T00:49:00.000+01:00

Going about, in and around London, I notice things that make me think. It's mostly good things that reaffirm my faith in the Human race; it's a nice, happy feeling knowing that, despite all the craziness, war, famine and shear stupidness that's evident throughout the world, we may just survive.

Unfortunately, every now and then, I see something that fires off the wrong synapses and leaves me thinking that we are all doomed. One such example as I was picking up a few things from the local supermarket, I wondered into the frozen foods section and found a product that has still left me baffled.

The product, in itself, was rather simple; it was a pack of frozen mash potato. I almost passed it without noticing but something in the back of my mind said 'Stop!' I can not believe that there is a market for frozen mash potato.

I can understand instant mash (Smash, if anyone still remembers it) as it's not really the same. The texture's different, the taste is different, it's not mash! Frozen mash on the other hand, boggles the mind.

Cut up a few potatoes (I prefer to keep the skin on), throw them into boiling water, cook for a few minutes till soft, drain, take a fork or masher and mash the potatoes, add some butter, cheese, herbs to taste, serve. That's all it takes to make mash potato! If someone is too lazy to do that, if they truly feel the need to resort to frozen mash potato; than I have to ask, in all seriousness, are you really fit to contribute to society?

Window Shopping

2008-09-11T00:32:00.000+01:00

“Which way?”

“Walk north than when you see the pregnant mannequins, take a right.”

“What?”

“Walk north than when you see the pregnant mannequins, take a right.”

“Pregnant mannequins? Really, Josh?”

“Yes, where do you think baby mannequins come from?”

A common conversation that has yet to get someone lost en route to my office. These mannequins usually grace the display window of the Topshop on Regent's Street and every day, as I walk past, it brings a small smile to my face, I've always thought it was Topshop's way of sticking a subtle finger up at conformity, there way of saying “pregnant ladies are beautiful”. They look great, infinitely better than the no-body-all-legs displays I pass everywhere else.

Unfortunately, as I walked home tonight, my smile was turned upside down. The master (or mistress) of displays at the shop thought a change of tact was needed, currently the windows is filled with the new range by Kate Moss. As, I'm guessing, is necessary with anything Kate Moss related, the window has many size 0 mannequins.

The shop front in question isn't on there flagship store (it's nicely tucked away) and they tend to change the display quite often. Usually, I like it, they always put up something slightly out of the ordinary so I really hope Kate Moss doesn't last too long and whoever thinks up these displays gets back on par.

Dated Ideas

2008-09-06T17:30:00.000+01:00

The big problem with political writing is that it's often a commentary on the current state of play, the ideas put forward just can't stand the test of time. What's worse is a lot of them with write in a hand-wavy generic way which leaves me thinking “what the hell did they mean by that?”, I'd then have to reread again and again to try and pull a meaning from the convoluted sentence presented to me.

I thought this was a relatively modern phenomena (the speech writers of George Bush and Tony Blair excel at this) but after reading Orwell's Politics and the English Language, I realized that this practice was rife as early as 1946!

I'd love to be able to summarise that essay but I don't think I can, it's worth a read. The crux of it is that writers don't care about the point they want to get across anymore, they care more about how they say things. Pick up any piece of political writing today (a good example is a speech George Bush gave 'condemning' the Russians over the recent Georgia incident).

This and many other examples of George Orwell's writings show how (good) political writing really can stand the test of time; but this also shows how the state of world politics hasn't really evolved over the years. One of my favorite books is Nineteen Eighty Four and people use the world in which it is set as a 'worst case' regime to live by, and why not?

The land of air strip one was a nightmare, the people in power would have to 'double-think' and he invented the concept of 'newspeak'. Both these concepts were laughable when I first read about them but over the years, I see examples of them everywhere in British politics alone!

In 1975 when the Khmer Rouge took power in Cambodia, it was as if someone had handed Pol Pot a copy of Nineteen Eighty Four and told implement what he read. People were taken away for crimes that are disturbingly close to what Orwell called 'thought crimes', the perpetrators (often these people were identified by children) would then have to be 'reeducated' and was unlikely to be ever seen again. History was constantly being denied or rewritten! The big difference is that in Orwell's world, the rest of the world was just as bad but out here in real life.... the rest of the world just watched on.

In North Korea, they have a god-like leader who's ways are very similar to big brother. I'm sure the North Koreans don't spend an allocated five minutes per day in hate towards their enemies but they do have certain aspects that are a direct throwback to Nineteen Eighty Four.

A great writer and a relevant one in this day and age but it's worth noting that within this great writing are a number of warnings, some of them are incredibly thinly veiled. It was just assumed that people would learn from history which is why Orwell can satirise them in his books, what disturbs me is that by reading them, I'm reminded that time and time again, we haven't learned.

Odd Observation

2008-09-02T02:34:00.000+01:00

A short one today. I have on, in the background, Jurassic Park. It was just this weekend a friend of mine was telling me about how she was helping her daughter with her university applications. I remember doing this ten years ago! This makes me feel old.

The thing that really made me sit up and take notice though was the fact I remember going to the cinema with a few friends to watch Jurassic Park. I should have just left the memory as it was but I thought about it a it more and came to realize that it was in 1993, 15 years ago!

It's not a bad feeling (I mean I don't feel ancient or anything) it's just slightly surreal that a blockbuster I went to see is now a graveyard shift time filler used to mark time before an extended infomercial is put on for insomniacs who just don't have enough JML in their lives....

Blood on the Dance Floor

2008-08-31T17:26:00.000+01:00

It's odd, on Friday one of the great musical minds of this generation, the so-called 'king of pop' turned 50. The event went almost completely unnoticed, with the only publicity surrounding his name at the moment is the pending release of his greatest hits album. For a guy who signed his first record contract at the age of 11 and than went on to grow from strength to strength to become one of the biggest selling artists, this lack of note of his semicentennial just goes to show how far he has fallen.

Don't get me wrong, following the trials and tribulations of Michael Jackson over the years and the shocking revelations that have come out, I don't think he's the sort of person I'll be inviting to dinner any time soon but some of his albums and songs, I believe, will stand the test of time. And unlike another famous pedophile from history, he didn't feel the need to put his achievements down to a 'Revelation' from an angel.

Thriller, bad, dangerous and, indeed, history are still albums I put on every now and than and just.... listen. I've often said (rather guiltily, I'll add) that perhaps if his career was cut short, if he stopped making albums he might, today be considered 'great' but as it happened, he is now nothing but a punchline.

I know this is kind of an off the wall thing to say but, despite everything (I believe the guy should be locked up) I still like his music.

A Black Fly in my Chardonnay

2008-08-30T16:25:00.001+01:00

I try to make my home a welcoming one, granted the flat is probably has more clutter than it needs to be and I have a pile of unopened junk mail (I'll eventually recycle it but I refuse to read it) but generally I think people feel welcome here.

I'm not much of a host, I don't organise parties or have lavish dinners (I still struggle with pasta+sauce so I don't think I'm ready for anything more complex) in fact I've yet to have a house warming even though I've been here for almost two years! Having said that, I regularly have friends drop by for no reason at all and I quite like that. It's a good thing, I like it that my friends feel they can pop by and (secretly) I smile a little when someone feels comfortable enough to put their feet up on the sofa.

Unfortunately, it's not just friends that feel this way, on a hot day (like this one) I leave the windows open and in comes a fly. Obviously it doesn't want to be here as you can see it buzzing up against the window wanting to get out. It doesn't seem t realize that, if it flew to the left, it would find the open window from where it came.

I don't like swatting flies so I try to usher it out of the window and on to freedom but this doesn't always work. The end result is, I eventually have to close the window and the fly dies of starvation (or at least I think it does, what do flies eat anyway?) and I feel guilty about it. I know it shouldn't bother me in the slightest but it does I feel like I've lured the fly to it's demise!

Desperate Housewife

2008-08-27T23:26:00.001+01:00

Of late, I've mostly been working on my TV tan. Yes, I know doctors say you shouldn't spend too much time in front of the TV but I have factor 15 TV guide so I'll be fine.

Tonight I flipped over to filmfour and caught Transamerica, it wasn't something I would have gone out of my way to watch. I like Felicity Huffman, though I'm not a fan of desperate housewives, I used to love sports night back in the days when I had Sky TV.

So here I sat, basking in the warmth of Felicity Huffman, watching a film simply because it was on. I must confess, I rather liked it. It wasn't in the least bit life changing or mind blowing; no twists or clever dialog. It was a simple story, simply told. It was about a guy (Huffman) who goes on a road trip across America with his son, whom he just discovered he has. He plans to get back to the west coast before his gender realignment surgery.

I wouldn't say run out and get it on DVD but if it's on, I think it's certainly worth a watch....

Basic Physics Can be Such a Pain in the Neck

2008-08-24T19:13:00.001+01:00

An old school friend invited me to his engagement party somewhere near Birmingham. So off we went in a nice German car (I'm always impressed by German engineering) that weighs about two tons. We are on the motorway for no longer than 20 minutes when we notice we are pulling up on the car in-front at an alarming pace.

As I see smoke coming from the tyres for the car in-front, I realise that this is an emergency and he's probably reacting to the car in-front of him trying, ever so hard, not to hit it. He failed; and as he slams into the car in-front of him, my big concern was weather we will be able to stop before we slam into him.

Alas, we failed and with a 'thud' we come to a complete stop. This is where the German engineering really came into it's own, the breaks on this car seem to break the laws of physics as when the car behind us slammed into us (at a decent speed), we didn't budge an inch; that is to say the car didn't budge an inch, we were thrown forward and caught sharply by the seat belts.

The last two car accidents I've been involved in have left me unmoved, I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing but so long as I'm not hurt, I'll get out of the car and carry on as usual. I asked my friend if he was ok than stopped out of the car. The guy in-front of us seemed fine, the family behind us (though the father was `f'ing and blinding`) seemed fine as well. The front of their car was completely obliterated, unrecognizable, that really made me thing. If the kids weren't in car seats for if the parents weren't waring their seat belts, given the force of the crash, someone would have gone through the windscreen so I was quite thankful that they were all ok.

The lady in the front car was the most shaken up so I spent a few minutes chatting to her while the ambulance and police arrive (standard procedure for a motorway crash). The police arrived and everyone swapped insurance details, the cars were dragged off the road. Given the amount of twisted metal in-front of us, it's a testament to the car manufacturers that no one was badly injured.

It's at this point I should mention that Newton's first law was well and truly adhered to as, when the seat belt caught me, my head did go through what they call “rapid acceleration and deceleration”. In short, my neck is killing me (no worse than a heavy session at the gym).

We made it to the party though, five hours late but we made it!

Stop!

2008-08-22T19:08:00.000+01:00

I was reminded of something today, it was such a small, insignificant part of the 90s that it had completely slipped my mind. It was a 'spin off' from one of the greatest phenomena of that era, though the parent is fresh in my mind, the child seems to have disappeared.

The last sixteen years of my life have been lived without a single (let alone second) thought given to it but as the words “he was given magical shoes” were uttered this morning, everything came flooding back.....

The Kindness of Strangers

2008-08-20T20:16:00.001+01:00

A friend put this up a few days ago:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2008/aug/18/2

It got me thinking, I've always been reluctant to accept help from strangers. It's not because I feel the need to be completely Independent and self reliant, I'm not; I'll openly admit if I need to get somewhere, I'll call a friend and ask them if they could drive me. My Ikea bookshelf is standing and holding book for one reason and one reason alone: I ordered pizza while a couple of friends were over and we needed something to do while it was being delivered.

My bed, my TV stand, the lights in my living room, my sofa; they are all up and in working order because someone lent a hand. It works both ways, I would gladly go to hell and back to help a friend. When it comes to offering help to a complete stranger, I do often think twice, I justify it by thinking “they'll be fine” or “I'm in a rush”. Truth be told, I'm never in a rush and more often than not, I'm afraid of my offer being rejected by the stranger.

It's crazy and irrational, I've been rejected before and it's not that bad, I feel I have to ask: “what's the worst that can happen?” Are they going to turn out to be a crazed murderer who lures me into some torture chamber, ending my short yet sweet existence? No! At best they'll say “thanks” and I don't object to work or at worse they say “no thanks” and we go our separate ways.

Who knows, as Ariane says we could end up at a party 20 years from now with people asking: “So how did you two meet?” I'll do anything for my friends but stop short of giving the time of day to strangers (ok, that's a slight exaggeration). I think back over the years and anyone I can call 'friend' today was once a 'stranger'. It maybe time for a change.......

Running Garms

2008-08-19T22:09:00.001+01:00

Loosely sticking with the theme of surreal things, I was stuck in a waiting room earlier today and caught the 200M women's qualifying race. What was most noticeable in the race was Rogaya Al-Gassra of Bahrain. While everyone else was waring skin-tight shorts and short tops, Al-Gassra chose to run while covered from head to toe. She had nothing but her face and hands showing!

I assume runners dress the way they do for the time and weight advantage it gives so to see someone waring a lot more than her counterparts was odd to say the least. She chose to be 'disadvantaged' in this race.

I take my hat off to her though as, amazingly, she crossed the finish line first. Sure it was just a qualifying race and I look forward to the final on Thursday but looking at the pictures and seeing the stark difference between her and the others, it made me think.....

The Rhythmic Drumming of an Emu

2008-08-16T13:36:00.000+01:00

I'm in the mist of a slightly bizarre weekend so far. It started yesterday, leaving work early when a friend called and said he had a spare ticket to see The Feeling that night. So off we went up north to a place called Clumber Park, just outside Sheffield.

We got there in time to see the end of the Turin Breaks set and just as we are calming down from the shocking price of Pimms, Scouting for girls come on. It was a great set! Later that evening, The Feeling finally come on and it has to be said, even though the lead singer was 'plastered' (as well as downing a number of whiskeys whilst on-stage), it was a good show.

The drive back to where we were staying was uneventful except for the slight incident where the lady in the car in-front of us makes a somewhat too quick an exit from a junction and ploughs over the police lady who was there to direct traffic! An ambulance was called and the driver walks (clearly shaken) over to the side of the road to trow up. Slightly surreal but I think I'm getting used to seeing surreal things. The police officer was fine by the time we left which is more than I can say about the driver.

This morning, I somehow managed to sleep through my wake-up call (in the form of 'cock-a-doodle-doo' as belted by the rooster in the back garden). After a breakfast orange juice (more than my stomach is used to in the mornings), I went for a little walk to see the emus that wonder around in the back garden with some donkeys, goats and, of course, sheep.

I've never been eye-to-eye with an emu, I hear they are vicious creatures but thought nothing of it. The first thing that struck me is the noise they make, it's a low drumming sound, the likes of which I never thought an animal could make.

The emus really came into their own when a new goat was introduced into this 'family', I figure they must have taken slight exception to this introduction. They start by running after this goat and the goat, rather than standing his ground, ran away! I was amazed at the emu's speed and its attempts at kicking, they are rather large birds and have no reservations in kicking goats or, indeed, humans. All was well by the time I left and I think the new goat was accepted.

I'm now on a train heading back to London but I take with me a very valuable lesson: Do not upset an emu........

Submitted

2008-08-11T23:45:00.002+01:00

I'm not a huge fan of Theo Van Gough, I think he had a tenancy to lash out at anything and everything that came his way. Who could blame him, I would imagine as soon as he turned his back on his legal studies and entered the world of art, he was thrown into the shadow of his great uncle Vincent. I can't think of anything worse than having to live up to live up to that sort of legacy.

His views and his works seemed to get more and more provocative as his career progressed, the film he's mostly remembered for was 'Submission', written by Ayaan Hirsi Ali and which ultimately led to his assassination in 2004.

'Submission' is a ten minute monologue telling the stories of four Muslim women who have been abused in various ways. The actress has, tattooed, on her body, verses from the Quran. The four stories highlight three verses from that Quran that have been used to justify the mistreatment of the women in the story. Like all text the 'offending' verses are open for interpretation and though they are used to suppress the rights of women in some countries, they can (and, I believe, should) have a more liberal meaning.

The first story focuses on 'fornication', a couple fall in love outside marriage, naively they think because they love and respect each other, they are doing the right think. For this 'sin', they are sentenced to 100 lashings of the whip with a “party of believers” witnessing their punishment. (24:2)

The second is about a 16 year old girl who enters into an arranged marriage, she is repulsed by her new husband but gives into his whims because he quotes scripture at her. This story highlights how the verse can be interpreted to allow a husband to rape his wife. (2:222)

Number three highlights a verse which has been used to justify the beating of one's wife. It's about an 'obedient' and loyal wife whose husband looks for any excuse to lash out at his wife, he doesn't have to look far as he believes all he needs is to 'fear disloyalty', he beats her after a few 'threats and warnings'. (4:34)

The last story is not based on a verse but does shows disillusionment, a woman is raped and left pregnant by her uncle when she speaks up about it to her father, she is told not to “question his honor”. She looks for comfort and answers from a god, whose word she has followed to the letter (she specifically mentions 24:31), but finds only silence.

I say watch it but do so knowing that the verses have been interpreted as a fundamentalist would to push the point. I would also recommend reading the verses for yourself (I can't read Arabic so, yes, I'm well aware that I'm reading translations) and seeing the context in which they are written.

Coming in From the Cold

2008-08-04T23:05:00.000+01:00

“I'm surprised you didn't ware a black arm band into work today”, a college quipped; he was referring to the sad news that broke this morning, the dead of the Russian novelist Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

A few years ago, I remember picking up a book from a dusty bookshelf. I wasn't expecting much, in-fact I was just looking for something to read but as I went through 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' I slowly realized that the very thinly disguised subtext of the story was put there by someone who was nothing less than a genius.

It was while fighting in the closing years for World War II that he wrote a letter criticizing Stalin, this, in turn, had him sentenced to hard labor in the Gulags. Here, while he toiled in this 'special camp', slowly starving and freezing, he 'wrote' a book. That is to say the thought up the story and worked on it in his mind (not having access to paper or pencils).

Some time after his release (1961), he submitted the manuscript for 'One Day...' to a magazine, at this time people were only 'allowed' to refer to the Gulags in the most general terms but here was a story about the day of a prisoner described in great detail, it was unheard of! The book was published, perhaps because, at the time after Stalin's death, the Russians were trying to play down the whole Stalin system so anything that would criticize him and his regimen as openly as this book was considered good propaganda. Maybe it was for this reason, maybe not, in 1962 Krushchev himself gave to go ahead for the story to be published.

After publication, the world could finally see what was going on in these camps. Such are (were) the pitfalls in the Soviet system that after Krushchev was ousted the KGB moved on Solzhenitsyn and pretty much ended any publication of his from getting out. From than on, his works were only ever seen (legally) in the west.

His most famous work, The Gulag Archipelago, was not published in his home country until after the fall of the Soviet Union. He was a man who was never afraid to openly criticize the government from the oppressive regime of the Soviet Union to US involvement in the Vietnam war (another brave move as he was living in exile in the US at the time).

He was a great political writer and I don't, for a second, think I can do justice to the life or indeed, the sear genius of this man so I hope that you (if you haven't already) pick up something of his and discover him for yourself. Though he never lead or effected a revolution, he was a revolutionary.

Wake Up!

2008-08-01T00:26:00.000+01:00

I've fallen into an all to common cycle, I buy an alarm clock, use it than 18 months later, it stops working. It's not a technical problem as such, it's just that over the months, I get used to it; to the point that the noise stirs me in the morning but doesn't quite wake me.

The first solution I pioneered years ago was simply to move the alarm clock away. Simple, I would have to physically get out of bed to turn the thing off, surly I couldn't go wrong! It worked for less than a week, I would get out of bed, walk across to the other side of the room turn the alarm off and go back to bed as if nothing happened. Amazingly I would do this every morning and wake up in a mild panic two hours later.

So, every 18 months I need to buy a new alarm clock, this doesn't really bother me much as for some reason I can't quite put my finger on, I enjoy shopping for alarm clocks; I understand this isn't normal but there it is, I think it appeals to the geek in me.

My current alarm clock is great, it has a snooze function. It's been moving further and further away from the bed and it's currently as far as it will go without leaving the room. I figure the snooze function works every 8 minutes and the other morning I managed to continually snooze it for 2 hours. For thous who feel the need to calculate: I pressed the snooze button 15 times!

My next purchase will be this nice little number, it lets you record your own alarm sound which will play at the allotted time. The theory here is that if I get used to a sound, I can simply change it. Now all I need to do is convince Cameron Diaz to record the phrase “open your eyes” though I'd settle for Penélope Cruz, I'm not picky.....

How Not To Get Your Voice Heard

2008-07-28T22:51:00.000+01:00

This is really starting to piss me off, I wake up this morning expecting a lovely hot day (granted, I might add) but I turn on the tube to find that another suicide bomber has thought it would be a good idea to blow himself up amongst some pilgrims in Baghdad escorting countless people to the 'gates of heaven'. This just added to the general craziness from Sunday's bombing in Istanbul (at the time of writing this was blamed on PKK but that's not really important).

The thing that really got my goat with the bombings on Sunday was the fact that they set off the first bomb on a busy street at a time when they knew people would be about. Killing innocent civilians for reasons I still can't comprehend is unforgivable, these people knew what would happen when the bomb went off, they've seen it countless times on the news, they knew people would run to help, they knew the emergency services would rush to the scene. With people dead or dieing on the street, with blood spilling everywhere, the perpetrators knew that ten minutes after the bomb the street would be infinitely more crowded than it was before the blast. It's at this point, they chose to blow another, much bigger, bomb in the same place!

This is a method that was pioneered by the IRA in the late 80s or early 90s (more recently employed by ETA) and to me it say just one thing: “we want to kill indiscriminately, in cold blood.” It's no longer about making your voice heard, what possible statement are they making by deliberately setting off a bomb amongst people why are trying to help?

I can't be the only one who thinks this isn't the best way to drum up sympathy for a cause. If a cause has access to explosives and the expertise to plan and carry out such an attack I can't imagine how they seem to lack the intelligence to understand that blowing up innocent civilians won't endear the public or the media to their cause.

Say hypothetically, you've gone through the processes of making a bomb or two, you've rallied the troops, you want to be heard and you ignore the fact that there are millions of better ways of getting your point across. It really doesn't take much planning to focus that energy into, off the top of my head, blowing up a relay or sub-station or two, plunging a city into darkness. Ok, I'm not in any way shape or form, condoning terrorism but if you can make your voice heard without killing people whilst still causing disruption, than why not?

Unfortunately we are not seeing any evidence of logical thinking here, nothing is likely to change, terrorists will continue killing innocent people, governments will pour more and more money into there intelligence services as well as giving them a freer hand (I'm sure at some point it was just about gathering intelligence but that's not the case any more).

All I ask is that terrorists give an iota of thought to the question “is this really going to help?”

Deliverance

2008-07-26T23:17:00.001+01:00

The other night, through circumstances beyond my control, a friend and I walked into a pub. Over the years this has become a fairly normal action for me to preform but rarely this turns into a somewhat surreal experience.

A few years ago another friend and I walk into a pub in New Cross, the pub becomes completely silent as we notice that it's mail clientèle are skinheads. We go to the bar and order a couple of pints (yes, I know the correct thing to do in that case was to leave and find another pub). As we stand by the bar chatting, drinking and trying ever so hard to ignore the dozens of piercing looking being burned into our backs. Finally, a half a pint into our drinks, one of the regulars finds the courage to come up to us and says “I know you're new here so I'll forgive you but you're going to finish your drinks than you'll get the fuck outta here”. Suffice to say we took his advice.

Going back to the other night, I'll admit the pub we went to wasn't as bad and was probably a bit more welcoming but it was just as surreal. Walking in, we were presented with a large group of people, non of which would have looked out of place on the set of Deliverance. We weren't out in a small Cornish village (sorry to all the Cornish people but this is the first place that springs to mind) or anywhere where 'inbreeding' is the done thing but looking around this pub, I could almost guarantee that most of them would have been related to a lot of the others in more ways than one.

An utterly surreal experience, as the evening wore on and the small talk got smaller and smaller, we both walked out wondering “what th hell happened back there?” but all was not lost as just up the road, I discovered a place that does great pancakes stuffed with chocolate chip ice cream....

Joe Franklin Raped Me

2008-07-24T23:24:00.001+01:00

I'm not sure how it happened but while watching The Aristocrats on DVD the other night, it was a run-of-the-mill random play.com order, I saw it, remembered a friend said it was good so ordered it. It turned out to be better than good, it's great!

The premise is a simple one, I didn't know this but there is a joke called the aristocrats which is supposedly a 'green room' joke, shared amongst comedians, rarely, if ever, preformed in front of an audience yet every comedian seems to know it. It all starts with a guy walking into a talent agency and saying “have I got an act for you!” it then descends into an ad-libbed description of the act including anything and everything the comedian can thing of, the dirtier and more shocking, the better.

After describing, in depth: incest, pedophilia, scatting, bestiality, homophobia, sexism, racism, necrophilia and pretty much any taboo you care to think of, the talent agent says “what do you call and act like that?”, “the Aristocrats” boom boom. The great thing is, every comedian they interviewed (they had some of the biggest names in US comedy) had their own unique take on the ad-libbed bit and it was great watching them share their own view on this common experience.

The film did make me think about how easy it is to offend someone with a joke, I've always believed that there should be no boundaries with jokes, I know this isn't a very political correct thing to say but so long as what you say is not motivated by ignorance, people should not be judged on the grounds of a tasteless joke.

One of the great moments of the film was Sarah Silverman, I never thought the line “Joe Franklin raped me” would have my laughing so hard but the build up to this 'punchline' fantastic and delivered with a completely straight face! The fact that the joke was completely tasteless hit home perfectly, hilarious and I think is a good case-in-point.

I would highly recommend this film, it's worth a watch if only to see the mime (I have a healthy fear of mimes) preform the joke.

For now, I'll leave you with the classic song, I'm fucking Mat Damon, how do you like them apples?

Another Gratuitous Cycling Post

2008-07-22T22:36:00.002+01:00

At about 8:30 Saturday evening a group of six to seven hundred people set off from a pub by London Fields and headed, generally, north east. The destination: a beach in Dunwich, the purpose: well no real reason but I was amongst these people feeling rather out classed but knowing that I would give it my all to reach the destination.

The story goes that on a balmy night in 1990, a group of cycle couriers had finished the day's work and were having a quick drink at that very pub when they decided that it would be nice to ride to the east coast to see the sun rise. Off they went and, 120 miles later, as they reached the end of the line at Dunwich beach, they had no idea that they had just started an annual tradition that would attract more and more people to grow to the event that is today known as the Dunwich dynamo.

Three snickers bars, a few pro-plus pills and a cup of soup had past by 8am the next day as I arrived at the beach well after sunrise. Granted the time I covered the distance in was not a great one but I was over the moon just to see the 'finish line' but at this point, all I could think about was food, I was starving. First thing's first, as you can see here (at 4 minutes, 10 seconds), I scoffed down a full English fry-up. I know, I look like an escapee from Guantanamo bay but at this point, I really didn't care, my body ached all over, I wanted to sleep and I would have killed for a massage but I had made it!

After a quick snooze on the beach and still feeling completely spent, I had to set off on the four mile journey to Darsham station, I managed, at most, 8 miles per hour with my knee reminding me that is wasn't going to play on every peddle. Finally getting to the station and seeing 20 other cyclists waiting at the platform, I was told it was ok as someone had called ahead and the conductor would let us on.

The train arrives only for the conductor to evoke sod's law and say “no cycles”, a few minutes of arguing and we knew we were fighting a lost fight. Everyone, including me, who had a connecting train at Ipswich would miss it. At this point, one thing was apparent to me: there was no way in hell I would be able to cycle the thirty miles to Ipswich station. “You're looking very calm” one of the cyclists said to me as we sat in the car park, I figured we had missed the train, missed the connecting so there was no point worrying about it.

My first thought was to call a 'friend with a van' to pick me (and some others) up, and though this would have been really lucrative for him, I would imagine asking someone to drive from London to Ipswich and back was a bit too much for a Sunday morning so I called that plan 'B'. After a few phone calls, we got a cab to take us to Ipswich station and the rest of the journey was a breeze.

Home, slept, ate, slept some more, ate some more and slept again, before long, it was Monday. The knee still hurts and I don't think I'll even consider riding for the next two weeks but I'm already looking forward to next year, July the 4th when I can do it all over again.

Running on Empty

2008-07-19T15:31:00.000+01:00

It's been a week of next to no sleep and rather than having me tapping on my laptop as I usually do, it's left me with no energy or inspiration at all, hovering through life like a shadow of my usual self. Ok, it's not that bad, in fact it's not bad at all I guess I'm just feeling a bit lethargic is all.

Moving on, I have a busy weened ahead, the time of the long anticipated Dunwich Dynamo has come and, this evening, I'll be peddling for all I'm worth in an attempt to get to the coast before they stop serving breakfast. I'm both apprehensive and looking forward to it at the same time, the weather doesn't look too bad, it might rain but with a bit of luck it should all clear up before I set off.

In other new, I experienced cold stabbing looks from a number of strangers yesterday. Paying homage to the Thai man once again, I took the orders from an number of people in the office. As per usual, a large queue had formed by the time I had got there and he was starting to run low of food when I had made my way to the front. I roll out my order and notice how the people behind me looked at me as the Thai man gave me the last of the red and yellow curries. I think this was bad luck on my part as if I was five minutes earlier, I would not have depleted his reserves with my order but, as it happened, I walked away with two full bags as everyone looked at me with shear hatred. I'll make no apologies for this though as it was a great lunch.....

Adventures of Babysitting

2008-07-15T23:13:00.000+01:00

A few years ago a friend invited me to a week of climbing and camping in Fontainebleau. His wife gave birth to their first child six months earlier and they were going on their annual camping trip with a group of friends, I love Fontainebleau so I jumped at the chance.

On the day of the trip I arrive just in time to help load the car, at this point, I thought nothing of the fact that there didn't seem enough luggage for a couple and a baby, I just figured they are good packers. With his six month old daughter asleep in the child seat and him at the wheel, it hit me.... his wife was standing outside waving goodbye to us!

“What the hell?” I felt the need to ask; he went on to explain how the mother felt like a week off (and, I guess, deserved it) and how we have everything we need for the week, it shouldn't be that hard for the two of us to look after a six month old. Reluctantly, I agreed mostly because we had already set off but I did remind him that we would be camping and I know nothing about children!

Over the next ten odd hours as we drove, sailed and drove some more, I learned some important lessons: babies don't sleep in cars for long, a baby who's wide awake expects to be entertained, a teething six month old will reserve the right to change her mood and become irritable without prier notice. Also, I learned the following will keep a baby amused for hours in a car: blowing your cheeks up to make a 'fish face', blowing a 'raspberry', teaching her to clap her hands, reading from a textured baby book but I'll confess, that was more for my benefit.

The climbing could not have gone better, one of us would entertain baby while the other would climb (very short routes, no need for ropes so we moved around quite quickly) and then we would swap. The camping wasn't too bad either, in fact I would go as far as to say that taking a six month old baby across to the Continent is well within the grasp of two men, all fears I had at the start about not having the mother with us were gone.

When deciding where to eat in the evening, rather than going to the cheaper cafés (which is what we would usually have done), we would go to the more mid priced restaurants which I figure would have a more 'middle aged' clientèle. The cynical thinking behind this is they would have had children who would now be grown up and have flown the nest; so when presented with an irritable, teething, baby, they would not be as annoyed by her, rather they would reminisce to a time when their own kids were like that. It worked, we got nothing but smiles, in fact one lady even offered to watch the baby while we ate!

Overall it was a great trip and I'm glad I didn't back out; the only thing is, I'm sure there are a number of French people in the are we were staying in that now think we were a weird mixed race gay couple, there was no avoiding the fact that we did get some odd looks....

Rock On

2008-07-13T23:38:00.000+01:00

It's been quite a long time but today, I managed climb on real rock. Yes, it was only in Kent and not very high but it was certainly high enough to remind me of the fear and adrenalin associated in climbing without a crash-mat.

After a short drive from the single platformed train station, past 'quaint' villages and windy roads, we get to the place I've not seen in over eight years. Things have changed in that time, some of the trees have shot up, I saw a number of mountain biking tracks that weren't there before and, most shockingly, the local pub has an extra story!

Finally getting to the rock, get the rope out and we start on that ongoing battle against gravity. I'm a few feet from the top, high enough for a fall to hurt but on a rope so am perfectly safe, I'm not entirely sure what happened next but I reached up to a bit of rock that's just slightly beyond my grasp and something in my shoulder just gave way. It didn't dislocate this time, it was more of a strain but it was incredibly painful! The rest of the day was plagued with a slight flinch every time I raised my left arm but other than that it's been a great day.

I saw a friend I haven't seen in a while which is always interesting as he reads the Economist so there is alway some difference of opinion on pretty much any subject we discuss. This leads to a slightly surreal sight for the people around us as climbing areas are usually filled with meaningless friendly banter and lots of encouragement towards whoever is climbing at the time. With us it's slightly different as we talk about whatever crops up while one of us is on the rock and the other is on the ground holding the rope. For one thing, it's not unusual to hear a brief debate on a political subject followed by a world war II battle followed by “you're fat and old, that's why you can't get up there!” with maybe a bit of science thrown in for good measure.

It would seem our bantering technique raises a few eyebrows (but more often than not, smiles) but it works for us, the main thing is, it takes my mind of the physical action of climbing and frankly, I'm better that way. The end result: it's been a good day, I know this because I'm tired and in pain....

Downtime

2008-07-12T11:00:00.000+01:00

For a number of reasons, I've been keeping myself busy this week, as a result, I've not been home much so I've not been overly visible here. I was hoping for a weekend to myself where I would have nothing to do as I have a number of DVDs in my 'unwatched' pile and wouldn't say no to getting out the pop-corn, putting my feet up and pressing play.

That being said, life is all about priorities and as I have a (now rather pregnant) sister joining me for lunch and as I haven't seen her in quite a while I'll gladly DVD another day. An old friend is getting married this evening so, at some point during the day, I have to make myself look presentable.

Tomorrow, assuming the weather holds, I'm planning to head out to deepest darkest Kent to see a friend I've not seen since he uprooted and moved his family out there and, with luck, I'll get a spot of climbing done out there. First thing's first though, I have cold and a splitting headache, I'll get some lemsip....

Carrots In My Radar

2008-07-07T23:25:00.000+01:00

For years I (as I'm sure many others) have been told “eat your carrots, they'll help you see at night” but than I would reply with “so why do cats see better than rabbits?”. I must have been horrid to raise as a child, I would have to know, I needed the answer to everything and even than, I would question the answer! All I can do now is doff my hat at my parents' patience as despite the unquenchable thirst for knowledge that I had, they did their best not to tell me to shut up!

It was a number of years ago while watching a Discovery channel documentary on something that an almost throwaway comment about 'on-board intercept radar' made me realize the years of lies that I've been fed with carrots. So here it is, carrots don't help you see at night! Yes, it's true, unless you suffer from a Vitamin 'A' deficiency, carrots won't improve your eyesight one iota.

Like most things like this, it started during the second world war, the boffins at the MOD thought it would be a good idea to take the newly invented 'radar' and place it on fighter planes so the pilots detect ze Germans as they flew over the channel to bomb the cities during the blitzkrieg. This left the 'propaganda machine' with a problem, on the one had they wanted to brag about how many German planes they shot down before they had a chance to bomb anyone but, on the other hand, they didn't want Herr Flick to find out about this simple advantage that the allied forces have.

The solution was simple, it was a plan of disinformation, they got some more boffins to tell the newspapers and the public that the Vitamin 'A' in carrots allow allied pilots to see at night, genius! The plan was put in motion, RAF stations everywhere fed their pilots more carrots. Parents would stuff their kids with carrots for the 'black-outs', the government even published data to 'prove' the vast improvement in eyesight this gave. They did all this to hide the little 'beep-beep' boxes on planes.

Unfortunately this great plan to misinformation worked a little too well as, to this day, you can still hear the sincere sound of a parent saying 'eat all your carrots, they'll help you see at night'.

Oh and as a bit of a post script (thank you Ariane), if you eat too many carrots, they make your skin turn orange (sort of like a bad tan).

Still Not Smoking

2008-07-06T22:56:00.000+01:00

A fairly uneventful day dogged with moving furniture (not mine) and generally driving around on this fairly gray day. It got me thinking about not smoking for the last two weeks....

Not smoking has been a bit of a trial, but not the sort I was expecting. The last time I attempted this, I noticed many things but the one thing I didn't notice was the hunger. I know nicotine is an appetite suppressant so when you stop smoking, it stands to reason you eat more, this has never been the case with me before.

But last week, I was hungry all the time, I was eating more than I can remember eating in recent years. I felt the need to have something to graze on all the time and I would still feel hungry! This was quite an extreme reaction and I didn't really expect it. Last weekend I calculated that I spent twice the amount I would have spent on cigarettes on extra food.

This newfound hunger has all but died down and I feel fine, it's true I still get the occasional craving, mostly when I see someone smoking but this is easily killed off by someone refusing to hand me a cigarette (I know I'm fickle) which, thankfully, is exactly what my friends do. Overall it's not going too badly, last time I remember people telling me that I was 'irritable' but this time around that doesn't seem to be an issue, in-fact only once over the last two weeks has anyone even mentioned a negative change in behavior (which, in the grand scheme of things is above average for me.)

So far, so good but it's early days yet, last time I managed nine months before falling off the wagon which goes to show that the psychological addiction far out lives the physical....

Never Shop When Hungry

2008-07-04T01:14:00.000+01:00

This is a tip as old as time. It makes sense, if you shop when hungry, you by the sort of things you would like to eat then and there, in my case, crisps and chocolate. Wondering through my local 24 hour supermarket on a full stomach isn't a great idea either, I came back with next to nothing.

I can't shop when hungry, I can't shop when full, was I to eat something, wait a few hours then go shopping? I'm just not organised enough to plan my life to that level. I had to find a solution before I whithered away to nothing (ok so that was unlikely to happen but let's not underplay this).

For a while I would make out a shopping list over a few days and stick to it, this way I would have a list of items balanced out over varying degrees of hunger. This, of course, didn't work as I shop after work and I never had the foresight to take my shopping list with me in the morning.

To the rescue comes Tesco online, it's great, I figured I can book a delivery slot three days into the future as late as possible so that I will be home by then, put a few essentials into the basket then checkout. Now for the twist in the plan: over the next three days, I add things to the basket so come delivery day, I have food, ingredients and junk!

This worked well for a bit, I was even willing to offer the benefit of doubt over two missed deliveries. One day they made a really bad delivery with a whole heap of substitutions, a few basic notes:

Plastic bottles of Coke are not the same as glass bottles!

Potato croquettes are not the same or even the least bit similar to chips.

If you have no rechargeable batteries, send me regular batteries of the same size, not rechargeable batteries of a completely useless size.

I can (and did) forgive them for all this but the last order I received had broken eggs in it. I wanted to make an omelet and everyone knows you can't make an omelet with broken eggs. It was more the fact the driver made a quick exit as he clearly knew what had happened to the eggs and rather than telling me, he thought it best to offload and go.

Last week I switched to Ocado and frankly it's better! Courteous customer service staff and drivers he even offered to put over socks on so that he would not damage my carpet! (I should note I declined the offer as my carpet isn't that great).

A few more weeks and we'll see how it goes but so far, I'm impressed.

Gone Postal

2008-07-01T23:05:00.000+01:00

Royal Mail tends to get a lot of bad press, people say first class mail is too slow, parcels don't get delivered on time, if at all! Naturally, when sending a parcel, this is a consideration.

Some people may have noticed that of late, the dark clouds have disappeared and it's generally been a bright and sun-shiny day. Unfortunately this recent blessing in the weather has coincided with the arm (or leg) of my sunglasses detaching itself from the body thus rendering them useless (yes I could balance them on my nose but that would look ridiculous).

A quick call and a nice American lady (“I love your accent” she tells me, “why thank you, your's isn't too bad either, now about my sunglasses...”) gives me the address of the UK service center in Hertfordshire, all I have to do is put the glasses in a box and send it off, brilliant! I should get them back in ten days just in time to see the clouds come back.

Yesterday, after risking numerous paper cuts and going through a roll of tape, I take my box to the post office and send it on it's merry way, waiting, with bated breath for the day I can once again protect my eyes.

This evening when I got home, any and all doubts I had about the post office were banished from my mind as on my doorstep sat my sunglasses all boxed up and nowhere to go.

Thank you, Royal Mail, for knowing the difference between a freepost destination address and a return address!

Witless Racist

2008-06-29T23:20:00.000+01:00

A cool 42 miles cycled today, taking me past; Little Venice, Lords cricket ground, London Zoo, Sven-Göran Eriksson's house, St. Pancras international, Farringdon, St. Paul's, London Bridge, Tower Bridge, The Imperial War Museum, The Cutty Sark (all covered up now), Greenwhich, Themsmead, the Woolwich ferry, City Airport, Docklands, Mile End, Bethnal Green, Shorditch, Angle and back to St. Pancras.

It was mostly uneventful, which in itself is noteworthy as it's rare that no one tried to crush me, run me over or open their door in my face (ok, one did but I avoided it silently). The area around the Woolwich ferry is one that I've not been to since I was very young and I don't have overly pleasant memories of that area either. What sort of person would feel good kicking a 10 year old and leaving him, gasping for breath, I'll never know! (another story for another time though.)

Anyway, back to today. After having millions thrown into that area for regeneration, I noticed very little difference at first but looking a little closer and you notice more building sites, that's a start surly. Once on the ferry, I looked up and saw a sign “mayor of London”, this, I thought, is regeneration in action!

I exaggerate, it's a lot better than I make it out to be but you still see a lot of the old 'A Clockwork Orange' type buildings. Moving away from there and across to the other side of the river, you're essentially in the old Docklands which never went through the 'business' regeneration that Canary Wharf went through. Instead there are countless warehouses (only on a full moon, mind) as far as the eye can see, oh and an Evangelical Church.

Cycleing along on a near empty road, all the industrial units (and oddly something that looked like a strip club) closed, a car pulls up along side of me, the 'lady' in the passenger seat sticks her head out of the window and shouts “Fuck you Paki!” I know this is a rather generous offer given that I have only just met her but, in all honesty, she wasn't my type.

Amazingly, here I was, presented with a phrase I have not heard (thankfully) in a number of years, I had no idea what to do but they had to stop at the red light which I was fast approaching, I went through my options:

Option 1) Go into the etymology of the word (I do love doing this) and talk about how although it's deemed to be a derogatory term, it is simply shortened from 'Pakistani' which generally (since the founding of the county in 1947) refers to someone from the 'Punjab', 'Afghan', 'Kashmir' or 'Indus' regions. It may also be worth mentioning that 'paki' means 'pure' in the original Urdu. Either way, I can't claim heritage in any of the regions and would be stretching the definition of pure if that's what they meant. I didn't go with this option as I fear my explanation would be lost on them.

Option 2) Reply with “rather a Paki than a Chav”, granted I would be making some major assumptions about their character but as the driver (a young gentleman) had two teeth and wore a Burberry baseball cap and the somewhat vocal passenger was wearing hooped earings big enough for me to cycle through, I figure I would be on solid ground in using the term. The phrase would have had the added bonus of pointing out that the label she offered me was solely based on a single trait of my appearance that is genetic and beyond my control. Whereas the label I choose for her is based on many thousands of small lifestyle choices she has voluntarily made over the years, each and every one of them would have been well within her grasp to control. Unfortunately I fear this subtlety would have been lost on them so I didn't go with this option.

Option 3) This has to be my clear favorite; explain to her that if you must choose to shout racist comments whilst half hanging out of the window than please put an iota of effort into it, come up with something witty, cleaver, something that would have required the warming up of a brain cell or two on my part. There is no reason whatsoever to resort to a cliché like 'paki'. Off the top of my head, with absolutely no thought or effort: “why don't you get back on the boat and go back to where you came from” as I had just come off the ferry that may have worked. I'm not saying use the insult I thought up, I'm just saying that if I can come up with this in the 30 meters it takes me to get to a set of traffic lights than surly a racist can do much better! I didn't go with this option as when I start a “if you must be racist than at least put some wit into it” rant, I can go on for a while and I didn't feel I had the time for this, besides, I fear it would have been lost on them.

Option 4) Sarcasm; but I didn't really feel like talking to her. The plan being I pull up in front of them, laugh and give them a really sarcastic 'thumbs up', this clearly can't be lost on them as surly there is no way I would have found the comment amusing or funny so they would know that I was being sarcastic.

I get to the lights and weigh up the four options I have and decide to go with number four, followed by a quick exit towards the standstill traffic in front of me, on the off chance they choose to follow me. I give them the thumbs up and judging by the blank faces looking back at me, I fear my sarcasm was lost on them....

The Longest Read

2008-06-27T21:22:00.001+01:00

On the way home today, I closed, for the last time, 'An Instance of the Fingerpost' by Iain Pears. This is a pretty big moment for me as opening this book, digesting a few pages than closing it has been a daily part of my life for an inordinately long time. I can't begin to figure out why, it's a good book, it's less than seven hundred pages, it's true it didn't have me on the edge of my seat but I've read a lot worse!

The story is set in 1660s Oxford and centers around a murder. The four main figures write their differing and unreliable accounts of the murder. The murder itself is almost secondary to the story which is more about the state of the country after the British civil war, the King's recent return, the struggle of the Catholic religion to take hold and the new 'scientific' method sweeping the learned community at the time, embraced by some and shunned by others.

A lot of the background characters are famous in history for their, then, revolutionary use of experimentation in science and others, their forward thinking philosophies. A story with goings on and characters from British history and a cleaver, well thought out plot, it's a good read, but what I just can't figure out is why it feels like I've been reading it since 1660!

The only theory I can think up with is based the change of pace I went through while reading it. The first 'story' felt like I normal read, the narrator of the second 'story' claimed to have read the first and said it was full of lies, his narrative was the 'truth' and goes about retelling the story with this own twist. The third narrator did the same, as did the fourth.

Something I've never noticed or given a second thought to when reading is the fact I completely trust the narrator and why not? This is, after all, the person telling the story, you have to believe him or her as without them there is no story! Maybe that's it, I thought, I believed the first story (I know it's fiction, I didn't literary believe him) but all the others I read with a fair amount of distrust towards the narrators, I was questioning, thinking back to what the others had to say. This I would like to say is a very bad thing, I had no idea how essential it is to trust the voice telling the story if you truly want to get into it.

As I say it's only a theory, maybe I'm just having an off few months and I missed something essential, either way, I thought this was an enjoyable read and would recommend it, though you should put some time aside to read it.

Leviticus 18:22

2008-06-27T00:27:00.000+01:00

It always amuses me when people feel the need to use scripture to justify something. If you can ignore the fact that the text is usually thousands of years old and has gone through a number of translations with the translator's attitude, opinions and general take on life all rolled in; than I truly do admire your faith.

Leviticus 18:22 is the old testament verse usually used to show that homosexuality is an abomination. Unfortunately, back in those days, God spoke mostly in Hebrew, a language I can't read so I'm blindly relying on translations. There are a few different translations (interpretations?) floating around and some talk about it being an 'abomination' others say 'detestable' or 'enormous sin' all of which can mean different things. The original bare faced translation would be 'ritually unclean' which, I'm sure you would agree, clears things up.

The general gist of the verse is “don't lie with a man as you would with a woman” and again the Hebrew is interpreted in many different ways. Some say it refers to male-male anal sex, some say it's male-male sex, specifically, in a woman's bed others say it refers to male pagan prostitution in a temple. Most seem to think it refers to homosexuality which, given that there was no literal translation or the fact that the word didn't exist until the 19th century, proves the writers of Levi were years ahead of their time.

The big problem is that it doesn't stop there, the countless interpretations and translations lead to vastly different actions, judgments and philosophies; this is just from a single verse! Each and every line of the old testament (and King James and new English and new testament, don't get me started) can be given the same treatment so I can't see how anybody can quote scripture and stand by it with a straight face.

This all came about from a recent email entitled “Why can't I own a Canadian?” but I remember seeing it, years ago, in an episode of the west wing (love the writings of Sorkin). Make a point, share an opinion but please, for the love of God, don't regurgitate something written for a bygone age.

Ear In My Car

2008-06-25T01:02:00.006+01:00

The vast majority of people who know me will tell you I'm not really into cars, I don't have a license, I don't enjoy going to motor shows (though that depends, as always, on the company) and I can't state the make and model by looking at a car. Every now and then, however, I get an invite to a 'petrol head' type event and, if I have the evening free, I'll go.

The concept of this evening was a simple one; take a number of super cars (all of which should have really loud engines), wait for the sun to go down, take said super cars through as many tunnels as you can find. This has the effect of amplifying the sound to an awesome level, almost deafening, it's quite an experience!

I haven't had a chance to processes the pictures yet but you get the idea. I'd recommend driving through London in a convoy of super cars as the looks you see on the faces of the general public can't be put into words but more so because I believe London really shines at night. The buildings are all lit up and the best way to see it (assuming you're not walking) is from the passenger seat of a car, turning a deaf ear and blind eye to the fact that you've probably burned enough fuel in one evening to fly yourself to Spain and back.

Thank You For Smoking

2008-06-23T00:39:00.000+01:00

Smoking is a filthy habit, not only does the smoke damage your lungs and can cause heart disease or blood clots (or much worse), it also effects the people you choose to smoke around even though they didn't choose to smoke and have pretty much no say in the matter! Sure things are getting better with the smoking ban, you come home without the lingering smell of burned tobacco following you. I would venture the opinion that we should go either one step further or one step back from the 'smoking in the workplace' ban.

The problem is, the average pack of cigarettes (I'll use Marlboro as an example as it is the world's most recognisable brand) costs around £6; £3.56 of which is tax! Now you don't have to be great at maths to know that that's well over 50% (59% for the pedants out there). The question I would like to ask is how can the government justify such a high duty on cigarettes? I'm very aware of the stock argument that smokers will need more health care in the future and that cancer treatments are expensive but that's not enough to justify that much duty.

Smokers die younger, that is a fact, they are at an increased risk of getting lung cancer, mouth cancer, heart disease, stroke and a whole heap of other ailments. Generally speaking, these things will kill so, as a result, these people wont be taking out a state pension or need any help from the NHS for the large list of ailments that are synonymous with old age. I would imagine that the true cost (worth a read, if only as an example of 'true cost') of growing old (if you choose to have children than let's not forget the cost of education, state child care etc.) would be, at least, comparable to the short term treatments a smoker will receive.

I find it incredibly hypocritical that the government is essentially making a lot of money from smokers on the one had and is telling them where they can't smoke on the other! I would like to see a world where smokers can smoke where they like or I would, much rather, like to see a blanket ban on smoking, both cannabis and cocaine went through this process and the fact I can't go to a shop and buy a gram of coke seems socially acceptable now!

I'll stop ranting as hypocrisy usually drives me insane. I'll confess, I am a smoker, I have been for over ten years now, I wont smoke in cars with non-smoking passengers, I wont leave cigarette buts everywhere (I hold on to them until I can find a bin, this seems to be too much to ask from most smokers) and I try, when I can, to be considerate to the people around me.

I've had three serious attempts at quitting and although the longest lasted nine months, Lady Nicotine has always managed to drag me back. I mention this all now as, tomorrow, I'm about to embark on my fourth attempt. To be perfectly frank, I have no idea if I'll succeed in this attempt but I know it'll be worth a try....

High Maintenance Lunch

2008-06-21T21:55:00.001+01:00

Yesterday was a day of pleasant surprises. I tried a Vietnamese place that opened near the office a few months ago, the noodle soup looked great so I got one to take-away. I don't usually have noddle soup as it's too hot, burns the roof of my mouth and I always make a mess! Back in the office, I have a look at the contents of the bag and find: a 32Oz cup with superheated stock (tastes great), vegetables in a separate container, a bag containing lime, coriander, mint leafs and fresh chilli, meatballs and noodles.

Page 164 of the instruction booklet told me to put the meatballs and noodles in first, then the veg and finally a generous squeeze of lime followed but the mint and coriander. I went a bit off course and put some of the included chilli in. Finally, everything was ready for the eating. The results were to be expected, the first spoonful burned the roof of my mouth, the noodles made a complete mess; that being said, it was really good noodle soup and I would go there again, though next time, I think I'll eat in.

In other news I found out that pixes use parcel force! While this is a great endorsement of parcel force, I'm much happier now that they have sent me a new pair of earphones. I met a nice couple from Eritrea (a country I didn't even know existed) on the way home last night, it was late and it was their first time in London and just needed a point in the right direction. It was late and I hope they got to Northalt (I left them on the right branch of the central line, westbound).

Although I'm enjoying sticking my head out of the window and taking in the newfound sounds of the underground I'm glad to have music back though I'm thinking of switching to headphones so I can actually hear some other things and people don't think I'm outright ignoring them.

Yak or Yak-Like Creatures

2008-06-19T00:18:00.000+01:00

It's been a fairly warm day which prompted the opening of the skylights in the office which is usually uneventful in itself but today the church next door were having a hymn session. Throughout the day, I was catching snippets of choral melody as it was being carried in by the breeze.

I ask my boss “can you hear a choir?”, “no Josh, it's the jukebox” he replies with an air of authority, “but we are listening to the Chemical Brothers, that sounds nothing like a choir”, “no, really, it's the jukebox”. No one else was in the office at the time so I had nothing to confirm the fact that I had actually heard it. “You must be losing your mind Josh.” he tells me, “Not to worry, that's a pre-existing condition.”

I'm standing firm on this, I know what I heard regardless of the fact that no one else did. On a similar note, I know I've had green beer in the Alps which, apparently, contains no colorings. Every no and then, we go out to the French/Swiss Alps to either ski or climb, it's great fun and I usually get home needing a holiday. More often than not, we stay in or around Chamonix and it was in a bar in this town where I first tried the green beer. The problem is, whenever I tell someone about this, they look at me blankly as if I had just told them about a unicorn I had just seen. This isn't entirely uncorroborated though as the four people I drank with that night had the same thing. Unfortunately, none of them live in the UK any more and I can't seem to find anyone else who has had the stuff!

Back in jolly old England, I remember a weekend in the Peak District (apparently, so named not for the peaks in the district but after the 'Peak' tribe that populated the area many years ago). We were driving along on narrow twisty roads when we passed a small field which I noticed was populated with big hairy cows. “I just saw some Yaks!” I exclaimed, none of the other passengers noticed them and the driver refused to turn the car around to satisfy my claims, he thought it would be easier to dismiss my sanity. Granted, I know little about cows but I saw Yak or, at the very least, Yak-like creatures and I spent the rest of the trip assuring people that I wasn't losing my mind.

It was months later that I got a text message from a friend, simply stating: “I just saw some Yaks!” Tonight, I just wanted to take a moment to assert the fact that, despite what some may say, I still have a full complement of marbles....

Without Music, Life Would be a Mistake

2008-06-16T22:48:00.001+01:00

I am, at the moment, without music. My earphones just stopped working this morning so I slipped them into an envelope and sent them off in the hope that the earphone pixies will be able to fix them. This means that my journey home was littered with sounds that I've not heard in quite a while. Talk of fashion from the people who have opted for a 'tipple' after work. Moving on to a couple of Italians, holding a conversation with the aid of hugely lavish hand gestures, I'm assuming that this is essential when talking on a cramped platform. And let's not forget the BBC (I'm assuming, he got on at White City) employee who's phone call was so important that on the off chance the phone wasn't working his shouts would carry his point over to the guy on the other end. If I may, “I don't want to tell you how to do your job but your junior should not be expressing his opinion in the meeting”, if I had a spine I would have asked “then why the hell invite him?”

It's not all bad, it felt a lot like sticking your head out of the window and taking a deep breath. It was actually rather nice, every day, I hear nothing but what I pipe into my ears but today, it felt like I was more awake, taking in the sounds that would usually go unheard. That being said, I can't wait for the pixies to return the earphones.

This brings me nicely (ok, so not so nicely but we're loosely sticking to the theme of music) on to the subject of illegal downloads, it seems everyone has an opinion on this, either for or against. I, for one, still buy CDs, I don't know why as I don't really have a CD player, in-fact as soon as the CD arrives, I put it into the laptop and make mp3s from it.

I would have to put my hands up and say, yes, I do download albums but I do so with no intention of keeping them. If I don't like the album, I delete the files, if I like it, I buy the CD. I'm not saying this makes it ok, it doesn't, it's still illegal. It does, however, let me hear the music in my own time (rather than at a listening booth in HMV) and it's saved me from buying albums I'm unlikely to listen to more than once. I think it's a good method, at the end of the day, I still buy the CD and if everyone did this, if all artists released low quality mp3s of their music for free then it would help separate the wheat from the chaff, it may even force artists to make better quality music!

Visual art makes me think, I enjoy going to a gallery even tho I don't know much about art and certainly can't comment with any intelligence or authority but I like it and usually have a good day. Music, on the other hand, can move me, I can lose myself completely and isn't this just the sort of thing that makes life worth living? Every now and then, I find it's good to submit, to let go so why not have to good soundtrack to do this to?

Sunday Afternoon

2008-06-15T15:37:00.001+01:00

It's been a busy and almost sleepless week this week so the lay in I had this morning was very much welcome. I love Sundays when I have nothing to do, the sun is up (sort of), no phone calls and nowhere to be. Of late, I've had many such days so I'm not quite sure what to do with myself, so far, after waking up (that's the morning gone) I caught the end of 'Back to the Future' and then Columbo.

There's something very comforting about watching Columbo on a Sunday afternoon, maybe this is because Peter Falk has been gracing our screens since 1968 so for as long as I can remember, watching this rain coat waring, seemingly harmless detective latch on to the person he knows is the killer, has been one of thous 'grounding' experiences.

“Just one more thing” he says to the unsuspecting killer, he usually follows this up with a number of pointless questions, this is where most people would slip up as only the real killer would bother thinking up answers to these pointless questions. You would have thought that people would have caught on to this trick, after all, this character hasn't changed at all in the last 40 years!

Tho I'm not much of a TV person, I guess I just like the familiarity that seeing the same character doing the same thing for, essentially, my entire life. At the very least, it's a good way to lazy away an afternoon while deciding what to have for dinner (still no closer to completing that task I'm afraid).

Soho! A Fox!

2008-06-12T01:25:00.003+01:00

It's amazing how you can walk past something on a regular basis, see it, register it and not realise that behind it, there's a story, a little part of history that makes you look at it with fresh new eyes. London is the type of city that's littered with such phenomena so I thought I'd take a short moment to point one out.

Walking around Soho, looking for a place to eat, I often pass an old, disabled water pump at the corner of Broadwick and Lexington Street. It's a memorial to John Snow, a 19th century physician whose study of the 1854 Broad Street cholera outbreak led to revolutionary new thinking on how such outbreaks are handled.

Back in the 19th century, the popular theories all suggested things like cholera and the black death were all caused and spread by 'bad air', this has a very viral, airborne feel to it. It turns out (a fact we now take for granted) that these things are bacterial and can only spread by physical contact or ingesting but it would be years before the world accepted it.

Cast your mind back to August 1854, a major cholera epidemic hit Soho and at this point in Snow's life he had done a fair bit of research into the ways cholera spread so naturally he headed out to investigate. Speaking to a number of local residents, he discovered they all used a common water pump on Broad Street. He then went on to publish a map with the homes of the infected plotted on it (if you're familiar with Soho, you will notice how things have changed since). He used that map to convince the local authorities to remove the handle from the pump and, hey presto, the epidemic died down. No water, no disease.

Looking at the map, it seems hard to deny the incidents are clumped around the pump but shortly after the epidemic, the authorities put the handle back on the pump because to leave it off would be accepting that cholera came from an infected water supply and go against the 'bad air' doctrine at the time.

Convincing people to go against doctrine is a problem that lasts to this day. For any public health reforms, you still have to mount a political struggle but this probably says more about politics then it does about public health (at least we don't dig wells too close to cesspits anymore).

Next time you find yourself here, spare a thought not just to Dr. John Snow but also to the countless landmarks and buildings around the city that all have a story to tell.

There We Are Then

2008-06-09T21:01:00.004+01:00

I'm quite easy going, most things that I choose to rant about don't anger me in fact they don't even get me 'slightly miffed'. Most things like that (feel free to see the archive) are barely worth a mention, it's just that I choose to mention them. That's not to say that, every now and then, I don't see or hear of something that does make me think someone isn't fit to live as part of the Human race, in short it just pisses me off.

It usually boils down to one thing, treating others as if they were the stuff you scrape off your shoe. Unfortunately, over the last few weeks, two such incidents spring to mind and all I could do (unfortunately I'm very much a pacifist) is shake my head and draw from my limited arsenal of adjectives, a word with doesn't come close to rightly express my thoughts.

I feel I should probably glaze over the first incident for countless reasons but to put it simply he beat a guy for what, in anyone's book, would be a minor infraction if one was to glorify the action to the status of 'infraction'. In my mind, I see no reason to throw the first punch, I would even go as far as to say that I'm unlikely to throw the second one, I guess that's why hearing this guy's story just outright annoyed me.

The second incident seems relatively harmless, in fact what he did was a very simple action but it was an action that spoke volumes about the man. I was in a restaurant last night, enjoying a pleasant dinner when, to get the waiter's attention, the man at the next table clicked his fingers. Doesn't sound like much, I know, but here is a person who considers the waiter so far below him that the only thing worthy of him was a click. It's not just because I was a waiter that this really gets my goat, I can't stand anyone clicking their fingers like that towards any other human being.

It's true we are not all born equal but is it such that we can ignore civility? Can we afford to ignore even the most basic courtesies? I'm going to say “no”, if you don't have time to be, at the very least, civil then I, for one, have no time for you (other than the time I've devoted to this post).

120 Mile Goal

2008-06-08T18:04:00.000+01:00

Another cycling-based post but bear with me. The destination de joure was Hampton court palace (again) and I know splicing French words into a post is passé but c'est la vie. So Ealing, Brentford, Kew, Richmod, somewhere, Hampton, got lost again, Esher, Kingston, Twinkenham, Richmod and back again a not-too-shabby-smidgen-under forty miles.

For the last five years now I've been taking part in the Dunwich Dynamo, it's not a race or a charity event or anything that would suggest a purpose. It is, however, a nice, overnight 120 mile ride which is great fun, challenging and leaves you with a sense of achievement that's virtually unparalleled!

It really isn't nearly as crazy as it sounds and I've managed to get to the end every year other then the last. They pick a day, mid summer and we always get clear skies, last year it rained. I usually go with a group of friends that are so fit they make you feel inadequate as a human being, they essentially consist of lungs and muscles and very little else! Tho, I introduced a not-so-fit friend to this last year, telling him it would be fine as anyone can do this and it's never rained.

I was wrong, it rained then drizzled then rained some more, by the time we got to the 60 mile half way point we were all soaked through, my friend was shaking and I could see signs of mild hypothermia setting in. Most were eager to continue but “leave no man behind” my friend reminded me, so the two of us headed back on the train while the rest continued (just as the rain stopped, I might add).

About seven hours later, he was still shaking but I told him to have a hot chocolate (should have been enough to get him home) and shower and sleep whilst I did pretty much the same. By the time we met up for dinner the following evening (even tho we both had a decent lunch) we were so hungry that we managed to crank up a £60 bill at our local Indian restaurant, leaving nothing for the doggie bag.

Over the coming weeks, expect me to peddle more cycling-based posts and like last year, this year is an open invite, if anyone wants to join me in doing this (what are the odds it rains two years in a row?) drop me an email!

Unpretty

2008-06-07T17:34:00.000+01:00

I have a friend, she's the sort of friend who isn't in italics or inverted commas, just to be clear. She's a wonderful person to while away the hours with, she's great fun, intelligent and has everything going for her. She's also very attractive but this is where it all falls apart, she seems to be the only person who doesn't see that.

This isn't just a self esteem issue, it's almost as if it's the complete opposite of Narcissism. She looks into a mirror and actually hates what she sees. I know to varying degrees that at some point in everyones life, they've wanted to change something or another, everyone has had a self-image issue but most seem to get over it and they accept their own flaws.

I think one of the lowest points one can get to is when a relationship goes sour for a reason you just can't fathom, I would imagine this would leave you (if it was a long enough relationship) with nothing in your life that you can hold onto but what if this feeling stayed with you? It's crazy, I know, but it does happen. In this case tho, it runs a lot deeper, I'm sure Freud would say something about childhood and parental interaction, how (as so often Freud does) the mother would have chipped away at your self esteem until there was nothing left and how this will effect and future relationship you have. This doesn't seem to be the reason here, she had a 'normal' childhood and her parents were nothing but supportive.

An issue with your self esteem or self image will effect almost every aspect of your life, you'll spend your days thinking your awful at your job, you get this slight downer feeling every time you go past a reflective shop front, I can't even imagine what a morning would be like I you can't look at a mirror, weighing yourself and seeing a few grams more then you did last time would be a nightmare.

In short it hurts me to see someone I care about going through this but that's nothing compared what she must be feeling. I was an incredibly insecure teen, I would hate myself, and I really mean hate, there was nothing I liked and the problem was the fact I was focusing totally on what I and other people saw. What people need to do is (to cite a bit of a cliche) look within and realise that you are a beautiful person, only then are you able to ignore all the bad comments others (who know nothing about you) throw at you (I'm not talking about constructive criticism here).

Only once you are comfortable with who you are, will you be comfortable with how you look and only then will you be comfortable with the people around you, after that you can truly enjoy life.

The Lone Krishnan

2008-06-05T01:08:00.000+01:00

I was waiting by Oxford Circus the other day and I'm sure everyone's seen this sight (sorry for the lack of sound, I couldn't find a good clip). Ideals aside, seeing Hara Krishnas or Christians do their thing is quite a sight, they are always optimistic and (believe it or not) never fail to put a smile on my face. The other day, things were slightly different, I was standing in what can only be described as sub-par-drizzle when a single Krishnan walks by, chanting, dinging his symbols, but very much alone.

I'm not sure my mind could process it, you always see them in a group and as they chant and wave it's like a party passing you by. Alone, this doesn't have the same effect, it was almost a bit dreamlike, I don't want to say it was sad, it was different, more somber. An utterly surreal sight, one that I wasn't expecting to see.

I figure one of two things happened, either they saw it was raining and didn't want to go out but one guy said “sod this, I'm going, who's with me?” or they were all supposed to meet up somewhere, he got the wrong place but went ahead anyway. I'll never know but one thing's for sure, it did put a smile on my face on this wet day.

Minutes at Midnight

2008-06-03T00:38:00.000+01:00

I have great difficulty reading my own words when I write on paper, it's mostly for this reason I don't write on paper. If you ever see me sitting in a meeting scribbling away, you can almost guarantee that I have no intention of ever reading said scribbles. A few weeks ago, I find myself in just such a meeting when I'm expected to jot down the minutes, “it's fine” I think to myself, “I'll just write them up while it's all fresh in my mind”, alas, no such luck as tonight was the first time I had enough time to get it all done.

I stare at the notes, blankly and what I think happened is a spider got into my bag, pressed it's legs into an ink pad then walked all over the note pad, I would have better luck deciphering hieroglyphics! A bottle of beer later and the words slowly get drawn into focus. Tap tap tap goes the keyboard, I can't say for sure how much of it is fiction (albeit fact based) but I read through it and see very little resemblance to scrawlings of the original.

Hey ho, I'm sure no one will notice and I'm almost certain that the people who will read it, don't read this.

All of this started after watched 'This is England', it's a film I missed in the cinema and not really one that crops up on my “amazon recommends” list, but it was on tonight and I thought why not? I'm pretty glad I did, it was (at times) a moving account of life in improvised England in the early 80s. The war, the poverty, the desperate need to blame someone for the poverty and subsequently the racism. It was all shown through the eyes of a child who joins a group of skinheads at a time when they weren't synonymous with racist thugs but were certainly heading in that direction.

I wont go into it much more but it's well worth a watch, even if Amazon doesn't think so.

Would You Marry a Size 24?

2008-06-01T21:03:00.001+01:00

This question is pitched, in many guises, to me but most recently, it was asked, in verbatim, last night. Perhaps it would be a good idea to put this question, I was having dinner with two friends (both male, not that that's important), we weren't talking about the obesity crises in the UK or anything even loosely related to health, food, shopping or weight. We were simply walking back to the car when this question was just thrown out there.

“So how long have we been dating? What's she like?” I asked, “does it matter?”. “Well if you want me to answer this theoretical, you're going to have to give me some details.” With a few more questions and theoretical answers, apparently, we've been seeing each other for a while, obviously we like each other and more importantly, she's happy with who she is, in short we're soul mates (trust me to take a simple, superficial, throwaway question and turn it into something more fleshy).

I said “In that case, of course I would”, now these two guys, I've known for a major portion of my life so why this response inspired complete silence, I fear I'll never understand. I've always thought appearances aren't overly important and surly, I can't be alone in this. So why do I come across as superficial? I think the problem stems from the fact I have an opinion on almost everything and am more then happy to voice them. I guess most people don't seem to realize that just because I have voiced something, it doesn't necessarily mean I feel strongly about it. Yes, I know this is a major personality flaw but I'm working on it but in the mean time, I hope you enjoy the abundance of irrelevant, pointless things I have to say.

On another note, I spent a lazy Sunday afternoon watching Sleepless in Seattle which reminded me of this:

Zen and the Lack of Bicycle Maintenance

2008-06-01T00:46:00.001+01:00

I went for another, much shorter, cycle this afternoon with the intention of covering a few miles before lunch. I had the foresight of picking up a pump yesterday (which has been described as a 'futuristic pepper mill') so I was ready to go. With no idea where to go today, I did the usual thing and picked a direction.

First thing I noticed was a slight squeaking noise coming from somewhere on the bike, tho this was more then mildly irritating, I thought “no matter, I'll get that sorted when I get home” and continued along my way. I was pretty much ambling around aimlessly, taking in the sights, avoiding doors swinging wildly onto the road and in one moment of sear terror, a large BMW four by four that picked the very moment the road narrowed to overtake me (I stayed near the curb and was more then happy to let it pass).

Roughly ten miles in (near Syon house, rather nice) I'm afflicted with yet another puncture, not a problem as I'm prepared with a spare inner tube and a futuristic pepper mill! After fixing the problem I wonder around some more, looking for a cycle shop as my current run of luck would probably give me another puncture and I thought it might be a good idea to sock up on more tubes.

At this point, as is to be expected, I'm hopelessly lost but, at the, very least, I'm by a cycle shop. So I pop in and am presented with what I can only describe as the campest sales assistant I've ever seen outside of Soho! On the way out (no not that sort of out) I ask him for directions and tells me which way to go but adds “I guess no one would go there unless they had to” to which I had no choice but to reply “I live there!” and left a rather apologetic guy to wrench his foot out of his mouth (I problem I've been cursed with of late).

Overall, not bad going and was a nice way to enjoy the warm weather.

An Horrific Headline

2008-05-29T20:38:00.000+01:00

After a pleasant lunch, I headed into the office from way out west, Ealing. I couldn't quite focus on my book so I spent the journey looking over other peoples' shoulders, reading their (mostly free) newspapers but I think I'll completely skip over today's news and current events.

As many may know by now, I'm not averse to the occasional late night but usually it's fairly mindless and relaxing. Last night was a slightly different story, I sat down, basking in the glow of my laptop (honestly, this isn't a monitor tan I have, I am Asian). I started a task that should not have taken more then two hours, this would have been just before eleven in the evening. Two hours passed and a number of hiccups (maybe a few distractions) later, I was still no closer to the end.

Part of the problem was the fact I was working from my sofa, it's the sort of sofa that I sink into in the morning then try and get up from in the evening, not really noticing the passage of time in between, also, it's near impossible to sit on it without putting your feet up so as you can imagine, it's not really conducive to working. Then there are the pop tarts, nothing is more distracting then the iced, jammy goodness that's ready in seconds!

Approaching two AM, I was all but ready to stop and sleep but I thought why not tap away (on the keyboard, that is) for a few more hours. By the time I had finished the job, I could see daylight outside, I don't mean the blue/grey twilight before sunrise, I mean full on daylight! Now would be a good time to stop and hit the proverbial hay, I thought, but that just wasn't to be. It was almost exactly at that time, my morning alarm chose to spring into life.

I'm now at the point where I can barely keep my eyes open but it's too late in the day to sleep. Having said that, it's not all bad as my ramblings are more aimless in a sleep deprived state (bearing in mind this is a relative quantity).

How do You Address a Canon?

2008-05-29T00:09:00.001+01:00

This isn't the start of a weird joke, more, this is a classic example of how a innocuous comment in our office can quickly spiral into a forty five minute discussion with many differing opinions, citations, history and a few tears. Ok, there were no tears but there should have been!

If, on the off chance you're on the edge of your seat, the correct style would be “The Reverend Canon”, “His Eminence” would be for a cardinal (not, as a lot of people think, the Pope) and “His Holiness” for the Pope. How is this the least bit relevant to my life? I hear you ask, well all I'll venture at this point is that you'll thank me should you ever come face-to-face with a Canon, a Cardinal or Pope Benny.

From one to the same, I watched a lot of Benny Hill as a kid and, yes, I liked it. I know it's not very politically correct to admit to that in this day and age but please, bear in mind I just referred to God's representative on this Earth as 'Benny' so one can safely assume I'm not on that particular band wagon.

This one sketch that sticks in my mind for no real reason, in-fact I can't even remember the entire sketch or even the context. All I remember is a lady telling Benny that his long lost father was a canon to which he says “My father was a canon? Well I'll be a son of a gun!” and for some reason, this still has me in stitches.

Bed Head

2008-05-28T00:52:00.001+01:00

This morning, I was presented with a rather unfortunate sight in the mirror. It would seem that all the hair on the right hand part of my head has developed a mind of it's own, had a major disagreement with my scalp and has decided that it would be best if it didn't speak to or touch my head at all. This would not have been a problem had the rest of my hair followed suit in some sort of hair solidarity but it didn't! The rest of my hair was flat as if nothing had happened.

It was a rather surreal look and the only thing I can think of that comes close was that scene in Terminator 2, it was near the end when the liquid terminator gets a grenade fired into his face, blowing up half of it. As I'm sure most would agree, it's not a pretty look.

Off to work I went, my first course of action was to attempt to mend the rift between the head and the hair, hoping that I could help them work through whatever disagreement they were having. This was a bit of a lost cause as it seems the wounds run deep here. I tried some fiber putty, clay, two part epoxy resin and super glue (not all at the same time) but the hair was having none of it! It continued to stand there, smiling at me.

The only thing left to do (short of visiting Stephen Fry's hair cutting dopplegaenger, handing him a Bic and asking him to show no mercy) was to try and bring the rest of the hair to the same, disagreeable, standard as the right side. Thankfully this required relatively little effort and although it looked messy, it looked intentional. Fellow commuters didn't seem to notice (not that they would notice anything that's not printed in the Metro, some people look really engrossed in that “newspaper”). The people in my office didn't notice either, in-fact, I managed to get through the entire day with only one person noticing that my hair was messier then usual, I would call this a success.

Today was ok but should this happen again, I may not be so lucky, for this reason, I'm now in the market for a baseball cap.

Intents

2008-05-27T01:43:00.000+01:00

Having nothing to do on the bank holiday weekend, I took some friends up on their offer to go with to the Hay festival in Wales. I had a quick (too quick as it happens) look at the weather and thought nothing of it, a bit of drizzle wont be a problem.

We were camping and witnessed a down pure the like of which hasn't been seen since Noah's days but that was Sunday, Saturday was a nice warm day. We got to the campsite and setup our tents, went to a few talks then lit a fire, opened a few bottles of wine and settled in for the night. It was past one in the morning and most people had gone to sleep when a lady of Australian decent descended on to us. She told us she arrived that afternoon, didn't know anyone there and could not remember where her tent was (did I mention she might have been a bit tipsy?).

My friend gave me a look that seemed to say “I ain't doing it!” so I picked up the torch and off we went. We spent the next half an hour walking around the field, trying not to wake anyone else up and I was asking her what, if anything, she remembered about the location of her tent.

Finally, we managed to narrow it down to a few tents, tried to knock on the first one, only to hear a groggy voice asking “who the f**k is that?” After crossing that one off the list we moved on to the next one, we knocked, nothing, opened the outer door, nothing, opened the inner door and joy! The inside of the tent contained no people (which could have been embarrassing), but did have her bags.

I wished her a good night and went back to a now waining fire and a glass of cold red wine with one question on my mind, “how on Earth can someone forget where they pitched their tent?”

The Calming Scent of Vanilla

2008-05-23T22:23:00.000+01:00

For weeks I've been walking around, going to work and just generally getting on with my life but with one, very subtle, difference. I've had a light smell of vanilla following me around. It's barely noticeable but it seems to make a huge difference. I think it's the reaction I have to vanilla more then anything else, it just calms and centers me so I'd say it's had a positive influence in my life.

It started when I bought a new watch (the old one coming to a slightly disastrous end), it seemed like a normal enough thing to do, that is, go into a shop, find one I like and buy it. It was after that, I started noticing this light smell every time I'd answerer the phone (for a while I just assumed it was the latest perfume and every one was wearing it) and it would have a effect of centering me just before I said “Hello”.

It was starting to become harder and harder to ignore, it was every ware! Once in the office, I raised my hand to my head in a “good God this task isn't going anywhere” type way when I realised that the smell was coming from my watch. Bizarre! It took me a bit of time using my favorite search engine to find that this is intentional. The watch manufactures impregnate the watch strap with a subtle vanilla sent, what a fantastic feature, I can't believe they don't advertise this fact.

With yet another mystery solved, when a crowded tube, jammed into a corner or pressed up against the door, I just raise my hand to my head in a nonchalant manner (I'm not going to be the freak to sniffs his wrist), take a deep breath and smile.....

Cut to the Chase

2008-05-21T23:38:00.000+01:00

Every now and then I do myself an injury, from small things like stepping on a pin or walking into a lamppost (these things happen) to more major things like breaking my heal bone or dislocating my shoulder. Yes, these things hurt but pretty soon the pain subsides and your left with nothing but a memory.

On rare occasions, I get the type of injury that blows all that out of the water, the pain is constant, theirs no getting away from it. It hammers down on me in an insistent throbbing reminder that my nerve endings are very much alive! I am, of course, talking about a paper cut. Sure, you can belittle this and laugh it off but it truly is a nightmare. I'm constantly reminded that it's there, it's itchy and it's frightfully annoying!

That's not the worst of it, the thing that I just can't figure out is how. How did I get a paper cut on my nose? I don't ware glasses, I can pretty much read things without bringing the paper to my nose thus saving me this sort of injury. I don't generally feel the need to put my nose to my desk (thing thing under the mountain of paper), I don't head butt post-it notes, in-fact I can think of no way a piece of paper could have possibly reached my nose to unleash this world of pain on me but the evidence is undeniable, my nose does, indeed, have a paper cut.

Happy Workers

2008-05-20T02:48:00.000+01:00

I have countless opinions that people, in general, disagree with, sometimes they raise an eyebrow, sometimes they just shake there head and other times they just say “what the hell are you on about?” One such opinion is when I say one of my favorite films is Toys and although I didn't fully appreciate it when it first came out, I still loved it and continue doing so today.

When I first saw it, I was a big Robin Willams fan (I know, not the person most 11 year olds look up to) and I enjoyed the quirky nature of the film, the vivid colours and I thought the story of a toy factory president going mad and building war toys was shear genius. Then, over the years, I saw it a few times and I never seemed to get bored of it.

Now, of course, I watch it (I have yet to buy it on DVD) and I see many, many references to Magritte, I hear an awesome soundtrack, I see great costumes, really surreal (again, Magritte inspired) sets and I still think the plot is shear genius. I appreciate that the film was ten years in conception, which given the visual 'feel', isn't that surprising. The plot now shows so much more, how the original owner never lost his innocence, a trait which his son shares and above all it warns of the dangers of taking life too seriously.

I'm sure you can analyze this film to death from a psychological perspective or from a special effects point of view or countless other angles but it all boils down to the fact that it's entertaining. A truly great film in my opinion.

Patents: The Last Straw

2008-05-19T00:06:00.000+01:00

This is an age old gripe of mine but here it is anyway. Patents, in theory, were set up so that the correct person would get the credit (and royalties) for an idea. In practice, however, it becomes a race to see who can patent an idea first and (very much like our voting system) first past the post wins. This means, once an idea is registered, the 'owner' has the right to do whatever they like with it.

This system stifles creativity and ideas, inventions or even products that could help advance research or even make our lives easier just can't be done because they rely on something that's patented that the owner wont relinquish or want too much money (this situation is much, much worse in the pharmaceutical industry). The though that keeps circling my mind is why, when someone has a good idea, can they not just put it in the public domain? This way, if someone needs it, they can use it and acknowledge the owner.

I'll admit this is a little bit idealistic as, potentially, the original person who thought up the idea gets no money for it, but if it really is a good idea then surly this person would need to be involved with the development and would naturally be paid for his time. I would think this is a small price to pay for advancement and a true open market (you'll never be able to over charge for a product as this will now be a product anyone can legally research and make), imagine no more monopolies!

I ordered a popular carbonated drink which was served with ice (and a slice) and with a straw. The problem is the straw keeps floating up and over the glass. The idea I had was to put a one-way valve at the bottom (this valve can be integrated into the molding process of the straw, will be part of the straw and doesn't need to be overly water tight) thus keeping the liquid in the straw and stopping it from floating away.

So, this cheap solution to the problem (come on, I'm sure you've all been annoyed by this in the past) can not now be patented by anyone (you saw it here first) and if anyone wanted to make it, they could just go ahead and do so, making life that much nicer for bar goers everywhere!

Sod's Law

2008-05-18T02:04:00.000+01:00

Looking at the light drizzle outside, I decided to go for a ride, it was very light and felt the need to do something. I start by pumping up the tyres, I hear a slight 'snap', the leaver on the pump had broken off, not a problem, I haven't had a puncher in over a year, I'll just pick one up sometime midweek. So off I went, the destination of the day was Canary Wharf.

One of the things people never seem to notice is that London has a number of canals with people living in narrowboats. I went past a kayaking center and on towards Little Venice with more narrowboats including one which is a floating puppet theater. On towards King's Cross and up Pentonville Road which isn't too steep by seems so long!

Going down City Road (this time not going in and out of the Eagle) I always turn my head to see City Road tube station, it reminds me that London is constantly changing and even the tube map which never seems to change is a dynamic picture.

Finally getting to east London and I have to say, you really have to be on the ball to ride a bike in that part of the world. I was almost hit twice and had a guy open his car door right in front of me, I have just enough time to shout “What the f**k?” before swerving onto the main part of the road and smiling slightly at the apologetic driver. Finally just over an hour after I set off, I get to Canary Wharf! Every time I aim for that part of London, I always get distracted and never seem to make it, but there I was and there was nothing much to see so I pop into the climbing center for a few coffees and a catchup, met many people I hadn't seen in a while.

The return journey was pretty much the same until I get to Lord's cricket ground, my front tyre burst. Not a problem I thought as I always carry a spare inner tube and a pump in my bag. I look in and remember my pump is broken and that I'm pretty much screwed. So, why not walk and see if I can find a cycle shop, get a new pump then, at the very least, I can cycle home.

Lords had just let out so there was a constant stream of cricket fans coming towards me, I did consider stopping one and asking “so what's cricket all about, I don't get it, could you please explain it to me?” but thought better not to. I'm nearing Edgeware road when I thought to call 118118 and asked them for the nearest cycle shop, they tell me it's at Westminster which is an outright lie!

So, walking on, I pass an art gallery under Marylbone Road with come of the most surreal sculptures I've ever seen! Still, on foot, on towards Paddington by which time, I had given up all hope so I get onto the tube and head home. I see a man who clearly has complete disregard for hattiquette and is relieving himself by a tree, by this I don't mean on the tree, I mean his is standing there, doing his business beside the tree!

I finally get home both tired and tyred, total distance covered: 29 miles. Not too bad but a far cry from the 120 miles I need (more on this some other day).

Stating the Burning Obvious

2008-05-17T01:10:00.000+01:00

As time goes by and the human race grows and expands to more and more places on Earth, we must be aware of the fact that we are making more demands on the planet's natural resources, space and (indirectly) food. We all need to be aware of our footprint (no, not of the carbon verity, don't get me started on that!) and more to the point we all need to be aware of the things that are putting pressure on what we can't renew.

I was surprised to read an article on fat, written, in this very context. We all know that as we run, cycle, swim or move, we need to burn energy to do so. If we just sleep the entire day sleeping, the lungs still need to move and the heart still needs to beat so the body will still be burning energy (admittidly, not as much). They then go on to say that people of a larger girth burn more engery at rest then leaner people.

All this energy must come from somewhere and the extra calories used by larger people (they claim 18% more) means they will be eating more food which means more water to grow the crops, more space used for farming and so on. So the whole point of this is that (as the headline suggests) fat is an environmental issue and a healthy lifestyle isn't just for your benefit.

I mention this because it made me think, how a lot of things we don't usually associate with environmental issues do in fact effect the planet in ways that aren't at first obvious.

What's That Got To Do With The Price of a Toothbrush?

2008-05-16T01:44:00.000+01:00

I use an electric toothbrush, yes I know it's an incredibly lazy thing to do but it does a better job of cleaning my teeth then a regular on ever can. Anyway, it's getting to the point where I should retire the Braun so I spent a small portion of my day looking for a new toothbrush.

A number of people rave on about the sonicare, very nice I thought, the UV sanitizer seems a bit gimmicky as it wont really do anything other then degrade the plastic on the brush head. So I'll go for the basic model, went onto the Boots website, saw the price was mislabeled.

A bit of searching later and I found the price was indeed correct, £150 for the basic model! I had to double check that I was still looking at a toothbrush. Is the sonicare really that good? Can any toothbrush be that good? When did toothbrushes become so expensive? How on earth can they possible justify the price tag?

The thing is, whenever something like this happens, I always feel like I've 'missed a meeting', like something major has happened and nobody has told me about it. I guess this has a similar theme to the “I remember when I could have a meal, watch a movie and get the bus home and still have change from £2” thought but I really feel this is not the case here. I'm I getting old or is £150 a ludicrous price to charge for a rechargeable toothbrush?

Feel It In My Fingers But Not My Toes

2008-05-15T00:40:00.000+01:00

I got home tonight with a sense of disappointment. Please don't get me wrong, I've had a great day, the weather's been nice and work is good. I did my usual Wednesday thing by popping into the climbing center in the hope of scaling a few walls and getting some exercise.

I did my usual thing by spending a few minutes chatting with the friendly staff, I didn't realise that Iggy Pop was one of the pioneers of punk rock. I always thought the punk movement was a very British thing in the 70s, influenced by American rock but here I stood corrected! I reminisced a bit about the first concert I ever went to and my first crowd surfing experience. Anyway, here I digress.

The climbing, fairly simple when you look at it, start at the base and haul all that you truly possess, against the pull of gravity, to the top. For some reason, it just was not happening, I 'climbed' for two hours and never once reached the top! It wasn't through lack of trying either, my fingers, hands and arms ache, I do feel like I've had a real workout but still quite disappointed.

I'll do better next week I guess, onwards and upwards!

Hair Today

2008-05-12T23:53:00.001+01:00

As a child, I hated going to the barber. I'd walk in with my day, they would put a plank of wood on the handles of the chair, joke about how short I was. As he would cut my hair, he'd joke about how he once slipped and cut someone's ear off (would I like to see the ear? No thanks), granted at the end of it all, I would get a lollipop but then I would have an itchy back for the rest of the day, it just wasn't pleasant.

Tonight I did very much the same thing, I went for a hair cut, how stark the differences! I sat down, they washed my hair and gave a quick head massage, then talked about Hugh Everett the third and his, then, ground breaking theories on parallel universes. Talked a bit about the big 'M' theory and how a number of theories the quantum physics seemed to merge into one when seen in a world with (I think) eleven dimensions.

Cracking open a bottle of a fine Welsh single malt, we chatted about various other things like HD tv, the fact that some countries don't seem to have an indigenous rebellious sub-culture that they can call their own so they create a mishmash of others that seem to work rather well together. How Mr. Bean seems to be more exportable to non English speaking nations then, say, Seinfeld.

We spoke about how in the London elections, a 'non of the above' option would have been invaluable. How the BBC iPlayer's volume control goes up to '11' and both of us thought 'Spinal Tap' was a real documentary when we first saw it. At the end of it all, my ears were once again visible. Over all, despite the fact I spent the evening doing pretty much nothing, an enjoyable experience. Alas, no lolly tho.

It's Like Riding a Bike

2008-05-11T00:29:00.001+01:00

It about this time of year that the sun comes up and my bike (labeled the beast for some unknown reason by a former owner) gets to see the outside world. It's been nine months since I last jumped on it so a nice easy ride to ease myself into the whole self-propelling peddling thing.

My first thought was to ride up to docklands, but fifteen miles there and another fifteen miles back would have been too much for a first attempt so, why not pick a random direction and see what happens? South it was and away from the hustle and bustle!

My route took me past Ealing, Gunnersbury, Brentford then to Kew and Richmond. Wondering which way to go and feeling a bit thirsty at this point, I was presented with three choices; turn back, go along the river or go up the impressively steep Richmond Hill. I so thirsty when I got to the top of the hill that I happily handed over £1.20 for a small bottle of water from an ice cream man!

Into the lovely Richmond park, I had to avoid some low flying deer. I got out the other side, relatively deerless and decided to go towards Hampton Court, I'd turn back there. I left the park via 'Ham Gate' which, oddly, put me in a small place called 'Ham', at this point I would have to admit I was lost but knowing that my final destination was Hampton, I figured I must be half way there.

After a bit of circling around, I asked a motorcycle instructor which way to go, he laughed at me but eventually pointed me in the right direction. Kingston was the next town I cam across and the rest was plain sailing! Finally, at Hampton court looking like I had just stepped out of the gym, I could do nothing but turn the bike around and cycle back home. The total distance was just over twenty miles but, at the time, it felt like a lot more.

I don't join a gym as I get bored very easily, I much prefer getting on the bike just to see where I end up.

Abba but no Cheese

2008-05-10T00:37:00.000+01:00

A bit of a mixed day today, partly because the office jukebox was playing a random mix that is more random then the usual random mix it plays, this is to be expected given the randomness of random music we have in our rather random collection.

For lunch, we paid homage to the Thai man once again but this time he had no red, green or yellow curry left, he only had pad Thai. In the last nine months, he has never had any pad Thai after 1130 and we were there at half one! An awesome experience, I don't think there are enough dishes out there that have both chicken and egg in them (an opportunity to go though two generations in the same meal) more I say.

With all this good fortune, something bad was bound to be looming in the distance. I love Montgomery Cheddar, it's probably the apogee of Cheddar production, I can't imagine how Cheddar could possibly get any better. The problem is that not many places stock it and if I by online, I have to order over half a kilo, as much as I love the stuff, I can not make use of over half a kilo of cheese, just think about how many nightmares that would give me.

So, as it happens, the one place near work that sells it has run out! They tell me that there is a shortage and it'll be a while until they can get some more in. I know, there's no use crying over spilled cheese but this is really good! Good French and Swiss cheese are great but you can slice up some Montgomery, place it on some toast and grill it (no doubt Lloyd Grossman would object to using cheese in this way but I don't care), it's pure bliss.

Bring back the cheese, that is all I ask.

Fabric Softener Woes

2008-05-08T01:11:00.000+01:00

I was telling my boss about a former flatmate I had who, in his infinite wisdom, thought that washing detergent tablets (the sort that come in a box with a netted bag) go in the washing powder drawer. They do not! Believe me, it'll just end up clogging the drawer and you'll spend the next few hours getting the now gunky detergent out of the drawer. The correct way (as the vast majority of people know) is to put the tablets into the bag then put the bag in with your laundry.

Why do I bring this up? Well, I don't understand why you have to put the tablets in the bag. From what I can tell, by spending hours on end watching my cloths going round and round, the bag is supposed to get everywhere. If I was to put the tablets in without the bag (not that I've ever done this) I'm pretty certain that the tablets would get around the same but independently. Surly this can't have a detrimental effect on my cloths, it's not as if I'm not putting enough detergent in or too much for that matter, it would be the same.

Perhaps this is like making a cup of tea. When I use loose leafs instead of a tea bag, I don't get tea, I get a cup of hot water, no wait, that's not right. So I can see no reason to use the bag but, saying that, I don't think I'd ever have the courage to put a load on without the bag.

That seemingly normal conversation aside, my next laundry related issue was the fact that my fabric softener clogs up my fabric softener drawer. I think I know why this happens, the fabric softener is mostly fat (apparently this is how it works) and the fat congeals to clog up the drawer. How can I unclog it? My best attempt so far has been to pour boiling hot water into it in the vain hope that it will melt the fat and clear up the mess.

I figure someone, somewhere knows how to sort this out, until I meet this person, I'm going to try and splice this into every conversation I have “Hi, I'm Josh, do you know how to unclog a fabric softener drawer?” I figure it'll be a nice ice breaker.

EMERGENCY

2008-05-06T23:20:00.000+01:00

I received a disturbing message from Komoh Kamara Uma, the son of the late Minister of Mines and Natural Resources of the state republic of Sierra Leone. Now he sounded a bit panicky but, by the sound of it, he has good reason to be. His father was massacred by President Tinjani Kabbah's forces and he and his brother are now refugees due to the “condition of his death”, now this is slightly worrying for me as I always thought death was a rather final condition but I'm no doctor.

Now Mr Uma is one of the lucky ones as his father has deposited $32,000,000 and 42 kilos of gold (about 1.1 million US dollars worth, I believe) in a security vault in a neighboring country, he doesn't go on to tell me where but given what Mr Uma has just gone through I don't think I would either. After all his father (who worked for Major Koromah) would have been killed in 1997-1998 so poor Mr Uma has been a refugee for almost ten years!

So, why is this guy, who is rich beyond my wildest dreams, contacting me. The problem with his father's grand deposit is that he told the bank that it was only to be released to an authorised foreign partner but thankfully his father had the foresight to leave all the necessary documentation with his son. So all that needs doing is for someone in the UK to offer up this documentation to the security company and claim the money and gold!

Mr Uma will no doubt reward me handsomely for my involvement in this affair which is to be expected as I understand money laundering has some heavy penalties under British law. I'm going to write back to Mr Uma tomorrow and let him know that I'll be happy to help him access his father's funds and should the need arise, I'll even foot any legal costs which will naturally arise with a transaction of this size.

What an awesome day, the sun has been shining down on us and now it looks like I'm going to be a millionaire by the end of the week! Summer is finally here.

Boris and Natasha?

2008-05-02T02:45:00.000+01:00

It seems that a few of my friends put a little cross by Boris's name today. Most say they only do so because “drivers are getting fleeced” over the congestion charge which may well be a fair opinion (we'll disregard the fact that the number of cars in the city has decreased since the charge was introduced), it isn't cheap if you have to drive in every day.

The thing that bothered me was the fact that not one of them could name another issue or any of Boris's other pledges. So it would appear that for a lot of people this is a single issue race and everything else is ignored. How can this possibly happen? People should know the issues that directly effect them, I refuse to believe that the thing that keeps most Londoners awake is the fact that they would have to pay if they wanted to drive into the city!

Anyway, I digress, what the world needs to see is the fact that Boris Johnson, despite the fact he many 'meet and greats', is actually a cartoon character. This is the only logical conclusion I can reach at this time. So the half baked plan I have is to drop an anvil on him from a great hight, if I am right about this, it should flatten him momentarily but he should then spring back up, unhurt, thus proving to the public that he is indeed just the creation of a cartoonist with a far too crazy an imagination.

Back on Tuesday,

Josh.

Enjoy the Silence

2008-04-30T23:58:00.000+01:00

A number of years ago (2001 I think) I signed up to what was then called audioscrrobler (now the corporation known as last.fm). The theory was simple, you install a plugin on your favorite mp3 player and for every track you play, the plugin will send the details back to the central server. Then a number of statistics are complied, you can compare your taste to other users but more importantly, you can see what you've been listening to over the months, see the top ten artists, albums, genres etcetera.

Here's the problem, after a few weeks I got bored of and stopped using it but I neglected to remove the plugin. A few months after that a friend suggested I use this service as it's so great! I told him I've already signed up and showed off my profile, not realising that it had been running in the backgroud all this time and I have to say I was in for a bit of a shocker.

Number one by far was Nina Simone, no surprise there, I have a number of her albums and love her music. Number two one the other hand, made me step back a bit, it was MeatLoaf. After, rather embarrassingly admitting to liking Joss Stone, I'm proud to say that MeatLoaf is great! Number three was a bit weird, Evanescence, a Christian (I think) rock band and their first album blew me away, it got air time at least once a day back then.

Looking at the list, I see Metallica in between Aretha Franklin and Ella Fitzgerald. I see Moby, REM and Shakira (in that order). Eric Clapton, Dead can Dance, Michael Jackson even Joy Division got a look in. My friend looked at me shaking his head. I didn't, until then, know the full extent of the randomness of my taste in music (I call it eclectic by the way). People need to know that there is more out there then just pop so why not, every now and then, pick up something that you've never heard before, you might just like it.

Exploding Batteries

2008-04-30T00:23:00.000+01:00

I bought a laptop in 2005 and a few weeks after buying it, I got a nice letter from IBM telling me that some of their batteries may have be defective and could explode if I misused it, used it or even try to charge it! So, they directed me to a website where I could type in my serial number and if the battery was found to be from the “effected batch” I would be sent a replacement and should immediately stop using it.

Surprise surprise, my battery was one of the potentially explosive ones and I should only use the laptop with the battery removed. I thought “it'll only be a few days, they obviously care about my safety” so I disregarded their instructions and continued using it. A week past, no battery, no explosion. Two weeks past, no battery, no explosion. In fact I've been using this 'tainted' battery for the last three years now and I've heard no pop, sizzle or bang from it. Let me tell you the adrenaline rush I get every time I turn on this laptop, knowing that I take my life into my own hands is unparalleled!

Ok, so I exaggerate slightly but there's a subtle point to be made here. I received an email from my former boss this morning telling me that the replacement has arrived! I had pretty much given up hope but it's finally here. I would like to say that I'm annoyed at IBM for taking so long but I have to say, it couldn't have worked out better, I get about twenty minutes out of this battery now and was going to buy a new one anyway........ thanks!

Tasted Like Chocolate Never Tasted Before

2008-04-29T00:59:00.001+01:00

I had a Flake today. I took a bite, held the wrapper waiting to catch the crumbs (to be saved for the end game) but this time I noticed didn't get as many crumbs as I used to. That is to say, I can eat the entire bar without making too much of a mess. Don't get me wrong, not making a mess and maintaining your dignity does have it's benefits but, in my opinion, the best thing about eating a Flake was pouring the crumbs into your mouth after.

So is it me or are Flakes flaking less? Have Cadbury, in their infinite wisdom, changed the crumbliest, flakiest milk chocolate to be less crumbly and flaky? I can't understand why they would do that as their entire marketing campaign is based around the fact that the Flake flakes! In fact, at one point, they even suggested that you would have to eat the Flake in a bath as it would make such a big mess (that's my interpretation of that ad and I'm sticking to it!)

I shouldn't take a stab at Cadbury's marketing team as they do seem to know what they're doing, they are currently using Joss Stone as their spokeswoman. It was a truly inspired strategy to use a flake to sell Flake.

Kids on Planes

2008-04-27T22:40:00.001+01:00

A few years a ago I was in the Canary Islands and had a very mild cold, I wasn't even sneezing but my sinuses were blocked, I couldn't breath through my nose. I did what any reasonable person would do, I took some anti inflammatory tablets so I could breath. I problem was, I then chose to go diving (I know you shouldn't dive with a cold but it really was a mild one).

So as I was thirty meters bellow the surface, playing with manta rays that were a massive nine feet wide but seemed to move with the grace of Baryshnikov. This is were the trouble started, I didn't know this at the time but the nice anti inflammatories I took were wearing off, now this leads to the air (due to the depth, it would have been about four times normal pressure) that was currently in my sinuses would be stuck there! At this point, I start to come back up and as the air expands, the pain starts. I was a little uncomfortable but, in the grad scheme of things, it wasn't too bad, so mu so that I completely forgot about it until the next day when we were flying back.

As the plane climbed steadily to however many thousands of feet a plane climbs to, the pain just above my nose became worse. I felt like I was going to explode, I would have gladly paid somebody to stick a hot poker up there just to relieve some of the pressure. All of this would have been fine if it weren't for the five year old in the seat behind me who thought it would be really clever to scream at the top of his lungs and kick my chair constantly!

I did the only thing I could think of, I stuck my head over the back of the chair and gave the kid the meanest look I could muster and it worked! He went silent and stopped kicking, in fact he didn't start kicking until we were landing and I was so overjoyed by the fact that the pain was starting to go down that I said nothing.

I was reminded of this painful event on Friday when, on a plane, a baby was screaming her head off! This time, armed with a not so mean look (the pain must have helped me that day), my plan was to turn around and look the father in the eye. I turned and was faced with a small baby, making drool bubbles, looking back at me. She then smiles and I'm gutted to say I was completely disarmed by this, what could I do? I sat back down and just let it go. The baby cried from time to time but I was clearly powerless. I still trying to get over the fact that a baby with no motor skills could have such a calming effect on me, I fear maybe I'm just getting old.

Stalemate

2008-04-25T00:57:00.000+01:00

I've been living here for over a year now and, unfortunately, I still have some unopened boxes, things that need to be unpacked. This is not just out of laziness, it's more the fact that the things inside the boxes don't really fit anywhere. Don't get me wrong, I have plans for the stuff, there's a box of pictures that I will one day open up, pick a few and get them blown up to hang them on the wall.

One of the boxes has a night sky globe (a throwback from my 'astrophysics' days) which would look great on a small table in the corner. I don't have a small table in the corner so that stays boxed.

I have a number of coffee table books which I could casually pick up from my coffee table and flick through them whenever I feel the need to look intelligent (yes, I read! What of it?), unfortunately, I don't have a coffee table.

Digging around, looking for something, anything that I could liberate, I stumbled upon an old chess board. I think it was a birthday present from my parents, it's rather nice, the board is mirrored with frosted squares and the pieces are glass (clear and frosted).

Now, I haven't played in years but maybe that's just because people don't walk in, see the board and say “hey I didn't know you played, shall we?” So this is now the plan, find somewhere where I can place it so that I can finally liberate it from the stacks of boxes and maybe even play a game. The only problem is where? I'll give this plenty of thought before finally making the move......

Needles

2008-04-22T23:17:00.001+01:00

http://www.blood.co.uk/

Firstly, apologies to anyone that's squeamish, this isn't too bad and I don't go into any gory details. Also, I know I've mentioned it before but I thought it was worth a second mention.

Today, for the first time in over nine months, I went to the blood bank, not to take out a loan but to make a small deposit. Over the years I've seen friends and family go into hospital for way too many reasons to go into right now. I know this is going to sound like a complete cliche but some of them would not have walked out of hospital if it were not for the fact that someone, somewhere said “go ahead, stick a needle in my arm”.

To this day, I still have to look away when they stick the needle in but the rest of it is pretty straight forward, there is no pain! I can't stress this enough, this really is a 'zero effort' thing to do. So visit their website, give them a call and book an appointment, it takes no time at all.

Maybe someday, you or somebody you love has to rely on a transfusion, if this happens then, most likely, there is no alternative..... pay it forward.

Remote Madness

2008-04-22T00:56:00.001+01:00

I enjoy a good riddle, I like thinking, I find it keeps me ticking over and I love problem solving! Every now and then I'm faced with something that just leaves me scratching my head without even a hint as to where to begin. Usually this slowly drives me insane until someone points out the obvious and puts my mind at ease (after a few hours of kicking myself.)

So, here it is, I live alone, I have no maid (as is evident by the state of my flat), the flat is fairly small. I leave for work in the morning and come back in the evening and in-between, I can be quite sure that no one has been in. So how on Earth am I able to lose a remote control? This, to me, seems almost impossible. I put it down somewhere and it really should be there when I look for it.

Thankfully, the remote isn't for a 'major' appliance, it's for the small iPod dock I have sitting in the corner, I rarely ever use it but now I'm thinking if I did, I would have to get up and select the next track like a cave man! I guess I just shouldn't let it bother me but it does, I can't stop wondering where it could have got to.

Anyway, for now, I'm just going to carry on as usual and hope the pixies that hide things choose not to torture me anymore. Although the more likely scenario is that I slowly let this consume me until a friend pops by and asks “Why do you have a remote in your fridge?”

Let's see how this pans out.

Photo Booth

2008-04-21T00:12:00.001+01:00

I was going through a load of old boxes (I've been here for over a year now and still not fully unpacked), looking for something that's not overly important anymore. I stumbled on an old photograph, you know the type, it was taken in a photo booth, four pictures in a strip. I figure I must have been nine at the time and it was a school trip to France, it cost us ten francs (that's about 1.5 Euros in 2day'z spk). The memory's a bit vague and I can't even remember my friend's name but we walk in a take four different pictures and then wait five minutes for it to develop, it looked like fun.

Fast forward x years to the last time I had to take a passport sized photo (I think it was for a ski pass but don't hold me to that). You sit down in the booth, look at the birdy and wait, one flash later and if you're happy with it, click 'ok' and out pops a print with four copies of the same picture (one in each corner, it's not even a strip!)

It's all digital so how hard would it be to have the machine take four pictures and print them out, there's no reason why the pictures have to be the same! Technically, it'll cost exactly the same to print four of the same or four different ones, so why not have this feature in modern photo booths?

The cynic in me tells me that this is because, if you wanted four different pictures, you would have to pay four times. I remember, out of shear boredom (or amusement), we would make a small visual 'story strip', it was good fun and I really believe that the kids of today are missing out on this simple pleasure. Bring them back I say! Call me a dinosaur but aren't people saying things like “let's give the hoodies something to do”? I'm not saying old-style photo booths would help tackle the hoody/loitering problem but, at the very least, it would give me something to do.

Eye of the Tiger

2008-04-19T01:55:00.000+01:00

After an incredibly long and tiring week at work I want to do nothing other then sleep. I'll be very disappointed if I wake up before 2PM tomorrow but we all know what they say about the best laid plans..... I'm turning into a bit of a workaholic, although I've yet to cancel on anyone because I “have an emergency and have to work late” I still can't seem to switch off.

Anyway, I was looking forward to this weekend, not because I have any plans but because I haven't had a weekend to myself for months now. On the way home today, I popped into a friends place and watched Rockey 3, good mindless fun, no need for thinking at all! It still scares me to think it was made in the early 80s very much before my time but still a very good cheesy film loaded with almost as many one-liners as Top Gun.

So, the point (it's a very small one) to all this is to bring your attention to the song 'Eye of the Tiger' by survivor, next time it's on the radio (what station are you listening to?) or pops on your iPod, listen carefully. One of the lines state 'the last known survivor dunks his bread in the night', all the lyrics sites have it wrong! The song is all about raising to the challenge and beating your rives again and again. Naturally this will make you hungry and what survivor are saying here is that once you've won, once you're the last guy standing, no one will judge you for breaking that age old tradition and dunking your bread into soup. I'm sure they encourage putting your elbows on the table in 'Somewhere in America'.

Celebrity Endorsed Fragrance

2008-04-17T21:41:00.000+01:00

Usher, David Beckham, Vicoria Beckham, Jennifer Lopez, Celine Dion, Sarah Jessica Parker and at this point I could not be bothered to think of any more so I jumped on to wikipedia, the entire collection of all human knowledge. The list isn't small!

So, what's all this about, is this the fragrance that the celebrity wares or is it that the celebrity smells like that fragrance? I guess this is one of thous things about modern living that I just don't get! What can I say, it's been a long day and it's not yet over, I guess the last thing I expect is to be inundated with adverts assaulting the senses as much as the product they are pushing!

Just a small gripe today, I'll aim higher tomorrow.....

I Know Nothing about Politics

2008-04-16T22:08:00.001+01:00

With May the 1st creeping up on us, I realised I know precious little about the candidates or what they stand for, so I set myself the task of writing at least one line on each.

How is it that the only serious threat to Ken Livingston's reign at the moment is Boris Johnson! Don't get me wrong, I like Boris Johnson, he's hilarious (admittedly not intentionally) and he's great for a sound bite, I would love to invite him over for dinner. But as a politician, good God no!

I don't often believe the hype of opinion polls but look at the other candidates:

Richard Barnbrook, now I just can't vote for the BNP, it's their logo...... it shows no imagination what-so-ever! All I'm saying is hire a good designer, sort it out and then I'll entertain the idea of criticising you're politics.

Gerard Batten, London is geographically part of Europe (I've looked at a map and it's true!) and to thrive economically, we've really got to work with our neighbors. Granted this is more a criticism of the UKIP then Batten, yes I agree that a country should be politically independent but not to the extent they are suggesting. Membership in the EU is expensive but in the long run, it will be beneficial.

Sian Berry, I'm all for the Green party but realistically, she's highly unlikely to come close to getting the number of votes needed to make a change.

Alan Craig, well not a lot I can say about this one except that I think his priorities might differ, ever so slightly from mine.

Lindsey German, nuff Respect to her! It was to be said, her heart's in the right place, but her recent split from unity (or not split depending on which way you look at it) doesn't exactly fill me with confidence.

Winston McKenzie, tho I like some of his ideas and he really does have the right attitude, but this is the whole point, he doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.

Matt O'Connor, he strikes me as a bit of a realist and like anyone who's central (politically), I strongly agree with some parts and strongly disagree with others.

The last three.....

Brian Paddick, I would vote for him but “a vote for Lib Dems is a wasted vote”. I'll keep an eye on this one because come 1st May, it may well be worth wasting my vote.

Ken Livingstone, is he red or purple now, I can never remember. I'm for the congestion charge, I think it has made a difference but like a lot of his policies, they really need a lot more thought put into them, I find Ken will gladly jump onto a bandwagon for a vote. I don't like 'U' turns, I need to know my candidate will stick to their guns.

Last but, by no means, least, Boris Johnson. I'll keep one eye on the sky and if I see a pig fly, I'll cast my vote in his direction but for now, dinner's an open invite, feel free to pop over any evening!

Please note that this post is more an attempt to learn rather then to criticise, that being said, feel free to tear into me, that's the whole point of democracy.

A Great Idea for a Blog

2008-04-14T23:05:00.000+01:00

Today, another weird conversation in the office. One of the guys was making toast as I was spreading a huge globule of peanut butter when someone pointed to the jar of Vegemite on the shelf. “What's the difference between Marmite and Vegemite?” As the question was left hanging there for a few seconds, I thought “nows a good time to throw my two cents in.” So, if you're a big fan of either Marmite or Vegemite but have no idea how it's made, stop reading right now, you won't thank me for it.

Both Marmite and Vegemite are what they call 'yeast extracts' common by-products of the beer making industry. In plain English, they take the scrapings from the bottom of the beer barrel after they have finished making the beer, jar it all up and..... that's it! Yes the stuff I love to spread on my toast would have been disposed of as a 'hazardous chemical' until some bright spark thought “we could market this!”

So, explaining my theory which is in no way based on any facts. I said that Vegemite is sweeter than Marmite because, in general, Australian beer is a lot dryer than English beer, so it stands to reason that at the end of the brewing process, there would be more sugar left over in the Australian by-product then the English one. To me this makes sense. At this point, one of the guys ventured “you really should write your musings down on a blog or something, they are so random!” I laughed so hard I almost wet myself, I had to point him to this page....

There-Their, There-Their

2008-04-14T01:22:00.002+01:00

Something that may be self evident by now is the fact I can't spell to save my life. I mean that quite literally, if I was ever in a situation where someone had just spilled their entire plan for world domination and placed me on a conveyor belt heading slowly towards a circular saw and the only way I could stop it all was to spell out the word 'synonymous'. Ok, far fetched I know, but if that did happen, I would have no choice but to come out with a cliche like “Do you expect me to spell?” and brace myself.

I went to a state-funded school and was pretty much written off as 'being a bit dim'. We were once given a verbal reasoning test and I remember seeing the look on my teacher's face as she read my exceptional score. My parents were called in, 'words' were had and I was sent to an educational psychologist for an evaluation. She reported back that I'm not a little bit dim, I'm dyslexic.

The next few years were a complete nightmare, now you have to bare in mind that as a kid, anything that singled you out in any way was not good, the other children will pick on you. I had to see a specialist once a week, was given extra time during written exams and carried a spell checker with me to most classes. Sure, I took a lot of stick from everyone else but I knew I understood the concepts being taught and with the extra help was now more able to express that fact.

I'm very reluctant to use this as an excuse, in-fact the only time I usually mention it now is as a joke. But it's still there, I look at the screen and just can't seem to pick up misspelled words or errors that just jump out at others. I guess, over the years, I've just gotten used to it. I tell this to some of the teachers I know and they say I was very lucky to have this picked up at a very young age, most of the time it just gets ignored or the child is labeled as being a bit slow. The teachers I know seem to take a keen interest in their students and I do hope that's more the norm and not an exception. It's worrying to think how many children are sitting in classrooms with teachers who have given up on them. They may not realise their full potential simply because they think they are stupid and no one will take the time to reach out and show them they are not.

Also, I don't have an editor so these posts pretty much go out raw.