Introspection

Mornin All

2008-10-13T11:23:44+02:00

Just posted this. Multiply seems to arrange my nloggage easier so will probably be posting more there from now on. Will link here if/when I do.

As a general update freshers week is over, was class and now settling into term. Fun times all round.

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Touchdown

2008-09-30T17:37:02+02:00

Got myself a break, jackpot. Will write up the weekend's jaunt over the next couple of days, but... London was epic. Met up with M & L in Oxford for a drink on the way down, both of whom decided I was younger and leaner. Bastard Landlord gave me the wrong keys which wasn't too epic as I had to dump my stuff at a mate's and kip there Sunday night. Moved my stuff round during yesterday and then collapsed pretty much. Woke up today and the girls arrived. My bastard Landlord somewhat becamse less of a bastard when I heard I was landing 3 girls, although, no doubt it will be interesting.

Anyroad, they moved in today. O, A and I. Latino, American and native American. First impressions is they are nice, two could be worth some work as they are only here for 3 months. Anyway, they just nipped out for a meeting so I got some downtime and thought I would check in.

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So Long, And Goodnight!

2008-09-25T20:43:36+02:00

Off to l'Uni tomorrow, via a weekend in London to see some friends. Who knows if this blog will last through now the hustle and bustle of student life kicks off again? Either way, a few closing thoughts, or not so much thoughts as a few whimsical musical reflections.

And two fingers back to those happy to see the back of me... I'll miss you too.

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Great Unexpectations

2008-09-24T12:05:45+02:00

Spoke to a friend of a friend last night, one I hadn't seen in a while and not regularly for a really long time. In the space of about 10 minutes she'd invited herself round next week, 'reminded' me she used to like me, tried to set me up with a friend of hers, told me I'd like her more now and demanded to know exactly when I was back in town. Bit of a bolt from the blue, but could be interesting.

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Pictorial

2008-09-22T23:21:51+02:00

The stream. Or some of it. Motorbike Tree on the left.

The gentle slope where I learned to run quietly. The scene of my transfer from clumsy plod to deliberate foot placement.

Mudslide on left. Another view of Faceplant Bog alluded to before.

Up the mudslide. A lot rootier than it was...

The launch point of the Little Slide.

Come down from the right, bear off to the left...

And the view from behind me as I took the above... A good section of stream to clamber down. Used to be a wasps nest down there, which my little brother found out generally don't respond well to being poked...

Looking down from the ridge on the right of the stream. Former coal mine. People died there from black damp, but long before my time...

Kid brother. Hairs down the hill with no brakes. Hits this headfirst at the bottom. Knocked out some baby teeth, emptied some claret.

Used to be minus the tree and collapsed section of walkboard. Those things got unbelievably slippy when it rained. Skidded off many a time on my bike into the ditch...

The Conker Place. Needs no other words.

The ramp, and some limestone. Good for bike stunts.

Jen's field. and Jen.

Cowfield. Cows used to follow the dog all the time. Their tongues were hooge too. Tickle a cow's nose and watch...

Why the Piglet Walk was called the Piglet Walk. Tis is where Piglet lived.

A couple of views from the railtrack.

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Those Days Are Gone For Ever...

2008-09-22T16:20:22+02:00

and this is me, just letting them go.

Yes. Don Henley. Ruined. Believe it or not that, I'm probably coming to the end of my last serious stint in the area I was born and grew up in. I look at the world and I notice it's turning, while my guitar gently weeps. And so on.

I've also had a song cycling through my mind most of summer, not sure why as I've barely listened to it. It has also seemed remarkably irrelevent.

As a bit of background, the song is Robbie's tribute to him of the Blue Suede Shoes. The man that was and the legend that still is Elvis Presley. I'm not sure if this explains anything though - just a fact of the day for you...

Everybody knows Elvis. Iconic rock star cut down just after his prime. Akin to Norma Jean Davis - more commonly known as Marilyn Monroe. Not quite James Dean or JFK as they were hauled down in their prime. And to add another few more recent examples, Heath Ledger and Ayrton Senna. But I'm massively digressing, or could do if I keep namedropping. So it goes. My bad, Vonnegut on the brain too. He died recently as well, but he'd had his time, so it goes.

So, I'm thinking my childhood is Elvis. I'm slightly older than the 'prime' age for a child, but I can happily sack off the last few years, go back to the good old days when I was a pocket rocket.

If this was a movie, the image of grumpy grey-haired Giles would blur out, the reminiscent patter would fade into quiet, and with a crack of thunder the camera would pan from the flash of lightning across the stormy sky, down over the treetops, focus through the rain and gloom to a 5 year old, face down in a puddle. Saving Private Ryan esque, minus the beach. And the tanks. Drama!

But it's all good. Said 5 year old raises his head and you see the biggest grin in the world emerge over his mud-streaked, rain-soaked face. I'd just fallen over. My wellies were too big, it was late Autumn and so insanely muddy, the current downpour only one of many responsible. I got up, clutching a stick I had conveniently fallen next too. Nearly slipped again before I ran in the way only kids in wellies too big can to catch up my mother. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed. Told me to put down the stick, which the dog, also soaked and smelling gloriously of wet-dog, instantly picked up. Apparently I wasn't meant to go anywhere but the kitchen when I got back but who cares?

Some things never change, I nearly went arse over tip in the same place the other day when I went on a run.

Those woods were unbelievably fun. That particular puddle of mud is at the bottom of 'The MudSlide' In fact, if you get a good run on The Mudslide you go flying through the puddle of mud over the short ridge into a lower puddle of mudd. If you get a bad run, you go over that and into the stream, which is not good...

Anyway. Mudslide. When I was a little kid, I'd scramble halfway up and then slide down. When I got bigger I'd scramble to the top, and fly all the way down. And when I get to the bottom I'd go back to the top of the slide, where I'd stop and I'd turn and I'd go for a ride. Till I get to the bottom and I see you again. Ruined so many pairs of jeans that way. It's a good job we had 'nasty clothes' - the stuff we would go for walks in or had to wear when we went outside. They always had patches or holes in, and I always got them second generation, via my older brother. I think by the time our kid brother got them there was very little of the original item left, was just a patchwork. What I will say though, is never do it in shorts. World of pain. Grazes, and wedgie. You're never too young for a wedgie to hurt, a lot. Either way in between little kid and bigger kid I was medium kid. I wanted to do the 'Big Slide' but I was a bit wary. So of course, my inner engineer came out.

I wound up tying a truck wheelarch to a tree with a long rubber line. I don't know where either came from, but my reasoning, I presume, was that the wheelarch would stop me shredding myself and uber wedgies, and the rubber line would slow my descent.

Needless to say, I was wrong. The rubber line did not slow my descent. In fact, the lower friction coefficient of the wheelarch made it rather faster. Being pre-school I was not familiar with friction coefficients or indeed Hookes' Law. I didn't realise that the line would stretch and then snap back. So imagine my surprise when all of a sudden I was airbourne. I was without my wheelarch and I was gently arking through the air. Shoulder plant, barrel rolls. All shook up, bit dizzy. Shook myself down. Moral of the story? When you have two choices - you have to man up (definition 4). No pussyfooting about. You do either one or the other, don't try and go half and half - it never works.

So on down to The Motorbike Tree. Was actually probably younger here. Bit of an odd tree though? I don't even know why we called it The Motorbike Tree because it looks distinctly more helicopter like. Not that I would have said that, helicopters were still called wellyboppers back in those days. I don't know, maybe this tree was the reason chopper means both helicopter and Harley? Anyway, you can guess how it works... Humans of infant size can just about sit in the loop and drive the tree. Fun times.

I love the smell of morning in the morning. For some reason despite getting to bed (couch) after 3 I was wide awake at 6.44. Got up, had coffee and had a good old wander round outside. No sun, in fact slightly overcast. Autumnal equinox. To be honest, I could write forever and a day but in doing so would run the risk of diving into an all-encompassing sentimentality as it was so eloquently put to me. So, instead, pictures can do that for me, with some 'brief' annotation.

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Need A Hero?

2008-09-22T15:23:03+02:00

Mein sister favourited this video earlier today. Seems a good idea doesn't it? Prisoner's out of cell time is spent dancing? Keep fit, focussed, force people to work together? Stll, couldn't help but think something fishy was going on, backed up by the Channel 4 documentary. Ok it's only C4, but they put out some stirling documentaries even if the rest of their lineup is gash. Needless to say the lingering point of the documentary, summed up by Wiki is thus:

"The British Channel 4 Documentary "Murderers on the Dancefloor" broadcast in January 2008 portrayed life in the prison. The program showed various inmates praising Byron Garcia, the founder of the initiative - many of whom had tattoos praising Mr Garcia. However, it also featured an anonymous ex-inmate who claimed Mr Garcia employs certain prisoners to beat prisoners who refuse to dance. Garcia was filmed in the documentary holding an American M4 Carbine, saying, "This is an M16 M4 rifle, and it can make people dance", before aiming the gun at the cameraman. This statement was acknowledged as a joke by the narrator. His Youtube account, however, states any accusation that any form of abuse goes on as part of the program is false, and the program serves the purpose of reforming the inmates."

So, not all singing all dancing. More Old West "Dance cowboy" whereby you're hopping bullets. Aye well, at least the thought was there. Still, was it ever realistic that a group of rapists, murderers and paedophiles would just do the YMCA?

On a cheeky note... could be an amusing opening ceremony for 2012...

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Slaughterhouse Five

2008-09-22T02:29:46+02:00

I read it. I didn't find it as easy to read as some reviews declare, but I read it. In fact, as far as reading goes I found it pretty awkward. I'm normally a speedy reader... but maybe that's only because generally I've read things that flow. Chronologically, progressively, evolving. Not surprising, as I have a logical mind - I like things to make sense. So when I've read 10 pages and I'm caught with a "Hold on a minute - what the fuck just happened?" I was intrigued enough to start again. I know it wasn't boring me or else I would have canned it, but I had to turn my music off, shake my head a bit and focus a bit more.

And it was odd. It made bugger all sense when I was reading it because it was flitting from image to image, event to event. The more you read, the more related events appeared and you could revert them back to earlier references. Trying to order them was yet more fun and games.

But having digested it - great washed down with coffee - I was left with a couple of... well impulses and feelings really. One is an urge to look deeper into the Bombing of Dresden. Another is to read the other two Vonnegut books I have. The last one is, I'm not going to come close to appreciating this until I've read it at least once more.

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Credit Crunch - Blame the Media?

2008-09-20T13:51:08+02:00

Perusing the FT, I came across this. Here be the pertinent excerpt:

Donna, an HBOS employee writing on an internet message board, accused alarmist journalists as well as traders of driving down bank stocks: “I will probably be out of a job now. Thank you, media and speculators, for ruining my life! How am I going to pay my mortgage?”

Just how much control do journos have nowadays? They control the celebrities, they make and break events - if you have the journos on your side, then it's all gravy. If not, then you're up the proverbial waterway without the proverbial control system. So is it any wonder that when news of a collapsing housing market starting to stagnate reaches the newspapers that pretty much a year later the world markets are in turmoil?

It goes like this. Journo sees what happens. Gleefully predicts doom and gloom. Papers get read. People think "Ah bollocks." They read the housing markets are collapsing, so they get wary. They don't gleefully bound in without a care in the world. I mean, why sell a house if the price is a lot less than what it has been or could be? Why buy a house if prices could get a lot lower, like the papers are saying? Ergo, market stagnates. It might have done anyway, it probably would have. Journo's pick up on it with articles such as this. Seems to be no appreciation that the media-effect could have had some say in the faster then expected decline.

So, are alarmist journos being irresponsible in the way they report on events like this? Do they exactly know how much hinges on their words? Obviously, stories such as "Ending In Sight", "Economy showing signs of railing" are irresponsible, but are they any more irresponsible than Doomsday predictions? I'm of the belief that if the media found something else to bitch about for a while, or y'know, just stopped focussing on it, then the situation would at least stop getting worse and maybe improve. No news is good news, right?

But this is dangerous territory now. You could conclude from this that Government controlled media would fix a lot of problems. Maybe it might, but it would be the dawn of an Orwellian era, the start of a Distopia. Surely though, a modicum of common sense needs applying to alarmist propaganda? With the wide-range of media nowadays, everyone is a jack-of-all-trades. Everyone knows a little of everything, which is a dangerous thing.

edit: it is worth noting, that media speculation of the impending American government intervention has at least short-term, plugged the drains. Here.

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Das ist Vonnegut, ja?

2008-09-18T13:49:55+02:00

Well, they arrived. Slaughterhouse 5, Cat's Cradle and Breakfast of Champions. Three books by Kurt Vonnegut suggested by a friend. I haven't read any of his material before so F - my reading any more of him after these is entirely based on your suggestions.

From the look of them I could have read all 3 by the end of the day, but that would leave me in the same position as before - postponing packing, though with a day less to do it. There is also that I probably won't have done them justice anyway. It would however, make a change from my recent booklist of Fluid Dynamics, Motor Racing Autobiographies and various interpretations and commentaries on Formula 1. Who knows, maybe could stack them alongside the Shute - make myself appear somewhat of a literary connoisseur... Yeah, who am I kidding - I'd need the Complete Works of Shakespeare and a bookshelf dedicated to some classic novels. Bronte who?

So, I will endeavour to pack, will read them at a more leisurely pace. Maybe accompanied by some of the product of this £40 wine voucher that Amazon sent with the books. From my reckoning, a 12 bottle case costing £126... special offer for £99, minus £40 is £59. Or under £5 a bottle for an £11 wine... Bargain much?

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Careless Abandon

2008-09-16T16:22:55+02:00

Words can't describe how quickly and how much in awe I am of these guys. Following my earlier frustrations with IB and after some Big4 research I was YouTubing some Stevie Wonder as a follow up to this which I saw in the very early hours of Sunday morning. Always liked what I heard from Stevie but this interview really opened by eyes to him. Was recommended a few albums by a friend who worships him, so was YouTubing in preparation for some iTunage. Came across Golden Lady from Innervisions, which reminded me of another song, I couldn't remember which, but I thought the leading line of the chorus was Golden Rain. I don't particularly like the song but it irked me that I couldn't remember the name, so I Googled. Filtered out the inevitable golden shower links, and came across this.

Not what I was looking for but I was spellbound, not so much by the song as the sound. This I thought, had potential. Imagine my surprise when on further Googlage only returned a couple of tour dates, and Amazon links. What, no website? This only fueled my fervour. Thankfully they have a MySpace. Was pretty plain, pretty amateurish and still didn't yield much truck. However, it had a playlist - 4 songs. They've pretty much been on repeat all this time between gleaning more from YouTube. They are all incredible, first time I've had that from a band I've tuned into for ages.

This is my favourite so far:

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Arse

2008-09-16T14:08:31+02:00

Investment banking is bollocks. Aside from everything collapsing everywhere, and having spent the last few weeks actually keeping on top of it, I decided it's about as appealing as arse. Next.

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Surprise

2008-09-16T02:45:29+02:00

Well, I'd bid people goodnight and settled down to sleep. Just to put things into perspective I've been sleeping at least 6 nights of every 7 for the last 6 weeks on the counc downstairs. Dogbert has had an operation and was convalescing. I'm not going to say I was loving the couch but I have got used to it.

Anyway, enough of that already. Just as I was drifting off to a land of onions and pirates, Dogbert jumped up and started wretching. Managed to drag his ass (He's an Irish Wolfhound) halfway to the kitchen before he exploded vom everywhere. Not ideal. So much for sleep. Spent the last half hour cleaning it up. At least it's not like we've just put new carpets in anyway... Oh wait. Well, at least they've been christened I guess...

Now... to attempt sleeping again. Night.

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Bucklands Beach Landslip

2008-09-14T15:53:19+02:00

News a bit closer to home, or one of them. Bucklands Beach (around the head from Eastern Beach, one of three places I call home) has been the victim of Mother Nature. Happened close to two weeks ago, but with the time-difference was only a couple of days ago the news got to me. Apparently there's been a bit of a landslip, fve houses have had to be abandoned, and it's game over for at least one of them.

Residents believe it's not just inclement weather that's caused it, and so have reported it to the Earthquake authorities. Pretty flair.

"The Manukau District council says the slip is simply an act of nature and only minor hairline cracks have been detected in the past.

They also said the cliff around the slip could give way at any time and people should stay well away."

Gallery

Good job I'm not doing my running and cycling round there this summer hey?

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30 Years Yesterday...

2008-09-12T15:05:38+02:00

... Ronnie Peterson's life and F1 career were prematurely ended in a horrific crash at the Italian Grand Prix at Monza. He was before my time, but I've read about him, his exploits, and know that to some people he was and is as Ayrton Senna is to me.

Ronnie Peterson
Tribute
Video
Thoughts with his family and fans. Continue to Rest In Peace Ronnie.

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93% Missing

2008-09-11T19:03:07+02:00

Relevent to two conversations in the last week, and one experience from 2 years ago, this I think, is something worth emptying my head about. As always it's coming straight out, no re-write, so yeah it might not make sense or flow that well.

It's surprising how anonymous the internet can really be. You can type to people, but you only ever take in what they type back. You can see people, but only ever what they want to show you, in a particular light at a particular time and from a particular angle. Should it be any surprise then that people construct an altogether idealistic image of you? Based on apparent 'cold facts' laid out in hyperspace.

This article claims communication is only 7% words. 55% is visual (body language and eyes) and 38% is vocal (pitch, speed, volume, tone of voice). I don't know how they arrived at these figures, but from an 'instinct and experience' point of view, I'd agree with the sentiment that words mean little compared to body language. Should we follow this article as truth, talking online, assuming no webcam or microphone - you're missing out on 93% of what the person on the other end of Teh Interweb is communicating to you.

So what do you do? Well, there's a few key things in my opinion / experience. Assuming something in the first 7% strikes a chord or clicks, and you want to know more, you ramp up the word count. In essence, you set about making up for the missing 93% - it probably isn't deliberate, and at least some of it is subconcious. You still don't see the body language though, so all you have to work on is your own. I guess in some kind of way you project that onto the person behind the screen in place of theirs. Already there's a breakdown, you're basing your responses on what you project, rather than what they do. Already you've started idealising them.

Also, with ramping up the words you pretty soon find out quite a lot about each other, or rather the bits of each other you're comfortable with them knowing. But obviously, the more you talk the more comfortable you get and then the less comfortable things can come out as well. Pretty quickly you can reach an apparent 'old friends' level of how much you know about each other and you haven't even met. You learn a lot about each other, still without knowing them. But there will still be things at least not entirely shared, glossed over a touch, spruced up here and there, again not always deliberate. It's not just communication that is multi-faceted, memories and musings are as well. And memories and musings are selectively extremised, to either really good or really bad but rarely any inbetween. In short, you're projecting yourself. It could all be perfectly true, but there will be a lot of truths, smaller ones, just ignored. The person receiving them can only interpret what they have, their idealism starts to be magnified.

To an extent, the vocal section of communication can be almost covered, as emoticons and quick exchanges of banter sort of give away you're getting on rather well and in an effervescent mood. More deliberate, longer exchanges indicate you're being more serious as to what you are chatting about and trust each other to an extent. Either of those induce some kind of feeling in yourself, and you probably think the other person is experiencing the same. Which isn't normally an incorrect assumption but is worth noting that it all too easily can just be part of what the other person is feeling. Or an exaggeration of what they are feeling - your average person isn't too great about describing exactly how they feel. Tangentially this is is why I guess, that doctor's poke you up the arse with thermometers and poke you were you say it hurts. Furthermore, if you're in a bar or chilling out somewhere with this person discussing these things, chances are they won't be carrying on another conversation with someone else about something entirely different. Rarely the case online as you can be chatting to different people about completely different things and sort of switch your feelings, thoughts and emotions as easily and as often as you change windows. So again, you're only getting some of the story.

From reading this back, it could indicate it can take a while to build the ideal of who you're talking to. Not always true. It's similar to first impressions of someone. You can either click or think they are a dick, when generally they are somewhere in between. Only by finding out more can you even attempt to work that out, but even then you are still building blind, probably closer to the truth but still an ideal.

The key thing is, a lot of people don't see immediately how meeting people online is any different to meeting them in real-life. You can get away with "Yeah, I'd like to see you again sometime - what you doing Friday lunch?" after meeting someone out in town one evening. You could have got your groove on enough just take her back to yours and screw her senseless that night as well, but that's not the angle I'm working here. Throw that lunch-date (or the sexytime offer) at someone after an hour on MSN and the other person will run a mile if they have their head screwed on right. Assuming they aren't looking for a fook-up of course. And what is the difference assuming both occasions you've met, talked and some flirty banter? For me it seems pretty clear it's the communication front. When you're out in town, approach someone and they don't blank you, the pair of you are clearly not averse to getting to know each other in some way. You don't just follow their words, you follow their body language. The fluttery eyes or the sneer. The light touches or the slap. You work out what's going on pretty quickly and get your groove on or move on. On le Net, chances are you're just a couple of bored people with no other intention than just to pass the time. Someone replying to you doesn't mean they want to get to know you, just nothing better to do and not averse to a bit of interaction to go with their browsing. You just can't tell unless they explicitly tell you.

But you never start chatting with someone declaring your intentions. If you did... freaky much? Not to mention an uber conversation killer. However, if you talk with anyone for any amount of time it ought to be discussed, and needs to be done before someone starts investing too much. One of the people I spoke to had regularly role-played with a guy, who after a few months came out the blue with "I love you" when all she thought it of it was fantasy fun. The other has seemingly acquired a lusty and confused e-stalker with little or no effort on her part. Myself... I got something akin to "Are you my boyfriend?" which I could just about fend off, though feeling a touch guilty that I may have led her on, which wasn't my intention. All situations best avoided. All situations you could see coming a mile off in real-life, but somehow be in your blindspot when on the web. And yes, misquoting and decontextualising the immortal words of the fabled philosphers that are Led Zeppelin... it's because of communication breakdown.

So, a vaguely related closing thought. Everyone on the internet is acting out how they see themselves. It is one massive roleplay. Some are pretty bad actors or don't really know themselves. Some read far too much into other people's performances or completely misinterpret them. You get the artistic flamboyant, and wary reserved. Throw all these types into a black & white film with a horribly-dubbed soundtrack, maybe watching it in a storm and you can see that unless you are really tuned in and concentrating it's all to easy to misinterpret things or miss key scenes. It's nobody's fault in particular, you just have to be careful and keep your eyes open.

And myself? I don't think I'm any different, better or worse than anyone else. It's safe to say however honest and open I am online, people reading this blog will only ever see me as the parts of Giles Galbraith I've put online, and even then, only the way they want to see him.

But that's not say there's no hope. That's actually quite cynical and only reflective of a few cases. You can get to know people fairly well, just make sure you know where each other stands before thinking it might be anything more than it is.

*I reserve the right to use 'extremise' as a word - you know exactly what it means even if it has no standard definition.

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Be Here Now?

2008-09-09T12:47:24+02:00

'All my people right here, right now. D'you know what I mean?'

Noel Gallagher, is a genius. Apart from cracking out tune after tune, he doesn't bullshit about some meaning it might have. He just writes, but boy can he write. He's also an interviewer's dream.

He had this to say about 'D'You Know What I Mean?'

"I was going to make up some profound statement in the chorus but I couldn't come up with anything that fitted. then I just thought "All my people right here, right now. D'You Know What I Mean? Yeah, Yeah" Very vague, very ambiguous, that'll do. Look in the mirror and wink while you're singing it and it's quite saucy. And I fuckiing love that line, 'Coming in a mess, going out in style'. We were a bunch of scruffs from Manchester and we're going out in a Rolls Royce."

And something vaguely serious:

"The morse code in the background was inspired by Strawberry Fields. We got hold of a code book and tried to tap out 'Bugger All' to follow that line 'Don't look back cos you know what you might see'. But if anyone can tell me what we really said, please let me know. Profound lagerisms..."

Anyway, other my introductory bit of gush about Noel, watch this:

Lyrics

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False Dawn

2008-09-09T01:22:23+02:00

It didn't actually rain. The verbal drumroll was for nothing, the chest-beating the same. I didn't get wet, not even a little. I did go for a run though, cleaned out my sinuses, sent some adrenalin through my calfs, so all was not lost.

Just a lingering frustration as all Mother Nature's foreplay came to nothing, like a cheap date she passed out and went to sleep. Still, you never know... morning glory?

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The Calm Before The Storm

2008-09-08T19:13:35+02:00

It's deathly quiet, it's still and it's gloomy. It has been for the last 5 hours. There is an impending sense of forboding, maybe a forboding sense of impending. Either way there is an aura of expectation, of electricity, an atmospheric tension ready to be cracked by a clap of thunder, to be shatterered by a bolt of lightning.

I'm in my element, I'm relishing this. Relishing the prospect of an absolutely monstrous summer storm - as soon as it starts I'm going out there. I am going to stand there and get absolutely drenched. Why? Because being exposed to the magnificence of Mother Nature in all her glory is humbling, refreshing and inspiring.

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Force of Nature

2008-09-08T17:37:46+02:00

Vaguely topical?

One, two, three, four..
Yeah I feel like a force of nature
Could make you sing like a bird released
If what you seek is a wise mans treasure
You know its buried beneath your feet

You know you look like a faded picture
I see the cracks freezing on your skin
And as the world slowly turns it hits ya
That the thieves of the night are coming tol take you in

You're smokin all my stash
But burning all my cash
I bet ya knew right away
Its all over town
As the suns going down
And the days of your easy life
I bet ya knew right away
Ya hope ya dont know where its at
Its all over town
As the suns going down
And its high time to pray

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Sunday Drivers

2008-09-07T23:50:27+02:00

Spa-Franchorchamps, Belgium. The scene of many a magic moment in Formula 1. The home of the some of the greatest challenges a man and his car can undertake. The cars might be better, but they still need driving. Talent still shows through. Never moreso than today. Raikkonen, a man off form shows that his class is unquestionable. He drove away, controlled the majority of the race. Hamilton, not a person I particularly like but a driver whose talent I can't not recognise and appreciate, holding on, keeping Raikkonen honest.

And then it rained. People can say what they like about Formula 1 cars being too easy to drive. I direct anyone to the last two laps of today's race to give them a reality check. Slipping, sliding. The World Champion stuffing it into the wall, cars creeping round 30 seconds off the pace. It was like Bambi on Ice in stages, but it would not be Formula 1 if there was no controversy.

True to form, it came on the second-last lap. Hamilton in a car more suited to the tricky conditions hauled in Raikkonen and the untamed racer he is, launched a move as soon as he could. Typical Hamilton. Slip-stream down the outside into the Bus-Stop passed under breaking. Kimi has the line, holds it, and comes back across the nose of the wide Hamilton. Perfectly within his rights. Hamilton, has 3 choices - hold position and wipe out Kimi, back off and tuck in behind, or cut the chicane. He chose the third option.

Now, in Formula 1, if you gain an advantage by cutting a chicane you get penalised. Drivers usually concede the advantage - let the other guy get back passed and hold back any move on the next corner. The stewards see this as the driver not gaining an advantage and nothing is done.

But Lewis, Lewis, Lewis. What do you do? Yes, you let Kimi back past. But then you switchback and stuff one up the inside. You've already been punished for not conceding the advantages you gain by cutting corners - remember France? Long story short, is that the FIA decided he still had an advantage. Hamilton had the quicker car, but once again he showed impetuosity in the heat of the moment. All he had to do was wait till the next corner, and there would be no punishment. You deserve the penalty, maybe it will make you more level-headed in the future.

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Advertising Space

2008-09-07T13:19:12+02:00

I'm pretty sure most of you will remember the genius of Cadburys last year....

I thought the premise was class, maybe not so much the song. Not entirely sure why, I don't have any particular tie to it, but there is something about the background story to the song that it just doesn't sit right on the advert for me. Anyway, I digress. Plenty of people saw potential and YouTube heroes began spawning remakes. Some of them were gash on a grand scale. More inclined to think there was a racial element to the 50 cent video as opposed to someone thinking it was a good idea, because it is truly abhorrent. Deep Purple's 'Smoke On The Water' was pretty amazing. The Eastender's theme tune was total banter, I saw how the gorilla suited the grunge of Nirvana's Lithium. 'Welcome to The Jungle' was a bit tacky, but I could see the idea.

This particular piece of creative splicing deserves some kind of recognition:

Anyway, not to be miss out on taking advantage of this sort of micro-cult following, it appears Cadburys have come to some agreement with one of the junkies and used his version. Or at least, his idea. Nothing like the potential of your version making it to force more vids on the internet. All advertising is good advertising, especially when it's free.

However, the idea will grow old, but people will still like it... for a bit. maybe not so much as the first two. It's akin to a successful film franchise churning out sequel after sequel. It'll still get money in, but rarely as much as the first.

Adverts don't have to be popular though, they just have to be recognised. Commercialising at it's best. You don't have a good idea and move on, you have a god idea and then squeeze it until it's bone dry. You work it until it's completely dead. The charm of the idea long forgotten.

I'm all for seeing ideas reach their potential, and something creative like marketing does appeal to me. The question is, could I quite happily rape ideas until they are pretty much dead? I don't know. Maybe I'll just have the initial ideas, make the original campaign and let others work them through.

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Any Given Day

2008-09-04T11:35:37+02:00

"On a given day, a given circumstance, you think you have a limit. And you then go for this limit and you touch this limit, and you think, 'Okay, this is the limit.' As soon as you touch this limit, something happens and you suddenly can go a little bit further. With your mind power, your determination, your instinct, and the experience as well, you can fly very high."

Ayrton Senna, Racing is in My Blood, 1991

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In Gear

2008-09-03T09:53:12+02:00

ISP was dodgy yesterday, and it rained sporadically so didn't wind up doing the mowing. I did however finish my summer musings aka "Half The World Away". I think it's an accurate summary of where I was the last 3 years, a lot of rambling and some decent intentions. Only time will tell how useful it was though, so I guess I'll be commenting on it occasionally over the next few months as things get done... or not. It's 7000 words though, I might have gone over the top, but in total it was probably 5 hours straight typing, which I suppose means I pretty much knew how I felt and what I want to do.

Didn't run last night so with the ISP playing up and having had 3 hours kip last night I took the opportunity to have an early one, but not before re-jigging the CV and writing drafts to two guys who took the time and effort to look me up following their company's presentations. Hopefully they'll take me on and give me some decent pointers.

Calfs are still a bit tight, I think another day off should do it - cold doesn't seemed to have changed much, just a bit of gammy sinusses. If it's like this tomorrow it looks like I may have catched it in time. Have to go back the opticians later this afternoon, then send these emails, then crack on with some research. Should be banterous.

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In To The Blue

2008-09-02T11:55:17+02:00

In retrospect, going for a run last night was probably not the best idea. Well, it was a good idea, just not executed so well. This was because it tanked down just about when I'd normally go out, so I put it off a bit. So when I did go out it was darker. This meant - I usually run through the woods and over the fields by the railway - I had to come out of the woods and hit the road, because I couldn't see anything. Anyway, the road is a lot tougher on your legs than the grass and mud of the muds, and so you really need the right shoes on, especially if you haven't roaded for a while.

So, having just had some comfy knackered trainers on my calfs tightened up madly just about the furthest away from the house they could have. Tried to power walk it out for 5 minutes, but the freshness of the night quickly got to me so I had little choice but to run back before I caught a death a' cowd. The cramps were nothing a warm bath didn't sort out, but I didn't realise how warm it was when I stuck my foot in the first time! Was salvaged anyway.

Anyway, after some browsing I shutup shop around 2. Couldn't sleep though for ages, tossing and turning. Dozed off around 4.. for an hour. And it was freezing. I tossed and turned till 6 before I decided to jack in the couch, afterall Shane was ok and bed was so much more appealing. Got about another hour there before waking up with the sweats and shakes. Fucking bonus, just what I needed. Was up for when my mum got back from work, but just went to bed for another hour. Woke up freezing, but I needed coffee, and to be honest - sleeping was tedious.

Spoke to my dad on the phone, weekly catch-up chat - rant about incompetent doctors, why Scott Dixon was slacking off and just general idle banter. Shane got back from the vets, he's doing fine, just one small sore isn't quite healing but he only has one more appointment. The mower is fixed as well, if it brightens up I may do that this afternoon. Cold's are only meant to kick in 3 days after getting them, and I'd rather be a bit groggy and mow today then leave it to overgrow again. Then again, this could be bollocks and I got whatever I have on Friday, but I doubt that - Friday was a decent day all round, well apart from the mower breaking.

So yeah, lazier than usual day perhaps with some mowing. Probably finish up writing One Wild Night and add more to my summer musuings.

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Freedom!

2008-09-01T19:19:22+02:00

Haha! el_stevo_chueco is no longer a GA. Suck on that MZ!

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Tell You Why... I Don't Like Mondays

2008-09-01T12:02:28+02:00

Always meant the end of the weekend, start of school again. Never much of a morning person a 6.45am start after weekend lie-ins was not ideal. It also meant an entire 5 days of early starts till the next weekend. Plus, it always seemed to rain. That's one in the anthropomorphic fallacy column. Which incidentally gets is second when every Friday I remember it was always sunny. Selective memory much?

But, to digress, the carpet fitter has been and done his final checks. Got to clear stuff, fix some doors before he comes Friday. Oh, and mop up. Wind's changed and the clouds look to be shifting, so no pathetic fallacy this Monday. Or maybe it is, it looks to be a good week. The house will be pretty much changed this time next anyway. The mower still lies broken in the garage but I'll get the strimmer out to trim some edges. Orchard is dripping with apples, plums. The Bramley's aren't properly ready yet, and neither are the Damson's but I smell a lot of apple crumble, plum pudding, apple sauce and the like. Oh, and the rhubarb is looking decent too. I have a feeling the runs may need to be cranked up to keep on top of things. Anyway, it's midday Monday. Stuff to do.

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Easy Like A Sunday... Evening

2008-08-31T19:36:14+02:00

Ooooh! I done a lot of thinking recently. More than I thought I was gonna do anyway, not that I was thinking I would of course. By the way, this isn't a mopey post like the first 3, or a meaningless happy post just to try to even things up - it's just a post.

Yeah, you can tell by the title - more soundtracking. But this is weird in that it's just a chilled out feel-good song to me, no real meaning or tie to anyone. Everything is absolutely gravy. I vaguely know where I'm going, less idealistion. First thing is first - we got Ghetto Karting going on soon, pick up the house keys on the way back. Move in at the end of September, a week before Fresher's and another before term starts. Need my last year's notes sorting and to get the core material. Then it's on with working out what's happening next summer. I think the ideal is probably a job with a country I can transfer directly to Auckland with at some point - I don't want to just abandon my Uni friends... thanks for the memories and all that, would rather ease out of it than have a straight deadline.

Then, I need to get my helmet sorted, need to be in race form. Keep up the running, crack on with rowing. Back into the football groove. Pretty much back to first year really - I've done lager lout and lad on the lash and it's been fun, but it's not who I'm always going to be. I think also, people have that turning point in their lives when it's just - enough is enough. I've had raw hangovers, been on mindless benders I can't remember, made a complete dick of myself. But it was always with the boys and it was always 'fun'. Most of them have left, so naturally it won't happen so much. Also, the fact that for the first time ever I was carried home, vomming everywhere and waking up in a pool of piss is not pleasent - it's fucking scary and it's fucking disgusting - I'm never going back there, people will look back and laugh... I just look back and think 'God, what a tool'.

So yeah... positive outlook. Anyway, food is settled - time to go for a run... then settle down with a good book...

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Score!

2008-08-30T20:37:26+02:00

One Wild Night on MP3 player, half an hour quick jog through woods and fields, et voila, everything is gravy. Fully refreshed but not smelling pretty. Add mud and cowpat to the aroma of grass, apples and petrol.

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Fucking Mowers

2008-08-30T19:28:04+02:00

So yeah, after spending pretty much of the whole of the week before this mowing because the weather had been so bad over the past month, I was gonna crack on today - y'know keep everything trimmed rather than waiting again and then spending 5 days again. Started as an absolute dream, piece of piss. Had done the orchard in about an hour no problems. Sun was out, warm day. Moved on to the back lawn - got about 1/3 the way in and the fucking roller housing splits, right on the carrier. Oh, and the connecting rod came apart as well. Fucking fun times.

Anyway, take it into the garage, begin to strip it down and it's hopeless. Brother is going to weld it tomorrow but the whole thing is fucking infuriating. Just sacked it off as a bad job after about 20 minutes, came in and ate food.

On the ManagerZone side, at least the England u21's beat Guatemala 12-0 away with my tactic so we are qualified for into the World Cup proper. Still fuming over the mower, so I'm gonna go on a run when I done this, and then have a bath. Burn off some frustration.

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