Just rebooting me iPod at the moment, however it has the heavy task of uploading over 2000 songs - so I decided to give a bit of loving to One Man.
First of all happy birthday to Mikey P - Payne that is, as the Daddy himself reached a fine age of 55 today. I hope you enjoy the Eagles concert! I spent a very nice evening in Ely with the family, nice cake and a nice meal. In all, nice!
That cake was consumed in small portions I must add. As for now, my epiphany has arrived. When Jen suggested a joint effort to change our lifestyles, regarding eating habits and exercise, it seemed to come just at the right time. The Christmas bulge hit me hard this year and Im sure you've gotten wind of my moans and groans of being unfit. One thing I wish God bestowed upon me was just an ounce of self-restraint or self-discipline. So now is the time to change things around. I know what you're saying; 'we've heard all this before'. And yeah I can vouch for that, because it's all I heard before too.
Im hoping that my dissertation will have some structure by the end of April, so I can get a good start on it. My aim is to look into the Tryweryn issue in the 1950s with a political theoretical edge. One Man will keep you up to date, I promise! In other news this week will be a busy one - especially as it's the final week before the Easter break. Bring on those essays!!!
The Gates of Hell
Sorry if the pic offends you - it is amazing how powerful such a pic can be.
Just finished an essay to give myself some breathing space with the work load, especially with the dissertation looming behind my shoulder. The essay touched upon a subject which will forever be a scar on our history - mainly the Holocaust, but also how it could have ever happened. How could other countries sit back and let these sickening things happen?
A question now which demands an answer, but more than likely, will never appear.
It is not often I like to talk about my essay subjects, but I feel that after watching the German epic Downfall not so long ago I have caught a bit of Nazi Fever (not that I am one, or support Neo-nazism or anything). Of course having done both a History GCSE and an A-Level, I now know more about Germany's 20th century history than any other historical period (Hint hint to the Senedd or Westminster, sort it out if you can!) and I find it hard to not think about Nazi Germany at times. Can anyone relate to that?
I wish I could have posted sooner about the annual student sabbatical elections, which rival only car adverts in annoyingness. Don't get me wrong; I am an advocate of democracy and the vote - but I just wish it was a bit more diginifed than a guy dressed as a potato, or a girl completely covered in newspaper. Jen was lucky enough to vote, I well.... decided to abstain. I even turned down the prospect of the postal vote. Shame on me I know, I should have at least looked at their manifestos or something.
What was worse, this madness was not confined to the fine streets of Cathays. God no. Swansea Uni, pictured above, also host these bloody things. I guess that they are common in all universities but just never realised. Tacky posters, people doing stupid things like marching to the Grandstand theme and interrupting lectures just make me hate this time of year. Well of course, I have no need to blog about it anymore because its all over (YIPPPEEEE!) so that's that.
Now then, back to Swansea. Yes, last Wednesday Gaji and I braved the M4 en-route to enemy quarters and have survived in one piece. I had to photocopy a book for a seminar back in Cardiff. Swansea was the only place I could get this one particular book, so once Bob was kindly allowed to be borrowed by Jen, the trip was on. Swansea Uni library was very odd, I found it very hospital like for some reason! Don't ask me why! All in all, it was a productive trip which was the main thing.
On another occasion, I have to give a shout-out to Em who grabbed me another book for the essay mentioned above.
Check out Jen's dad's new web site for his skittle team. Made by Jen, hosted by Moe and updated by 'The Daddy' himself. Well it needs it's hits from someone! :)
Thanks for nothing, WRU
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/4814666.stm
As you may read from the article above, Wales' national poet Gwyneth Lewis has attacked the WRU in verse after the Ruddock-'Player Power' debacle. Now to put my own thought on things, I really dont know who is to blame in this entanglelment of lies and uncertain intentions. But one thing is for sure, Welsh rugby (and just like Welsh football) has pressed the self-destruct button just when things were at the top. The WRU have acted so unprofessionally in this mess and they should be ashamed of themselves for once again putting our nation's game into the funny pages of our neighbour's newspapers. London is still laughing at us, and I dont blame them. In the recent criticism of the Andy Robinson, England coach after their defeat against France the RFU stated that:
'Coaching suicide' is perhaps the best way to put it. You can feel the condesending tones in there can't you? But they have a right to be - I certainly would, because we ballsed it up. Totally. We gave Italy their first away Six Nations point for Christ's sake. Something is amiss from that Gland Slam side I cheered for last year.
Anyway, getting back to the point, here is the peom taken from that article from Gwyneth Lewis. Enjoy!
As you may read from the article above, Wales' national poet Gwyneth Lewis has attacked the WRU in verse after the Ruddock-'Player Power' debacle. Now to put my own thought on things, I really dont know who is to blame in this entanglelment of lies and uncertain intentions. But one thing is for sure, Welsh rugby (and just like Welsh football) has pressed the self-destruct button just when things were at the top. The WRU have acted so unprofessionally in this mess and they should be ashamed of themselves for once again putting our nation's game into the funny pages of our neighbour's newspapers. London is still laughing at us, and I dont blame them. In the recent criticism of the Andy Robinson, England coach after their defeat against France the RFU stated that:
"Andy's got a contract to the end of the World Cup. I see no logic in committing coaching suicide as per the Welsh." (Taken from the BBC)
'Coaching suicide' is perhaps the best way to put it. You can feel the condesending tones in there can't you? But they have a right to be - I certainly would, because we ballsed it up. Totally. We gave Italy their first away Six Nations point for Christ's sake. Something is amiss from that Gland Slam side I cheered for last year.
Anyway, getting back to the point, here is the peom taken from that article from Gwyneth Lewis. Enjoy!
A WOODEN SPOON FOR THE WRU
I have consulted the mistletoe, stared at starling footprints in snow: the time is ripe for your overthrow
I give you a spoon I shaped of ash because you didn't nurture the flash of play but thought, maybe, of cash
Here's a dip I turned from oak but look, in your hands, it slips into smoke.
You've made our last Grand Slam a joke
BY Gwyneth Lewis
I give you a spoon I shaped of ash because you didn't nurture the flash of play but thought, maybe, of cash
Here's a dip I turned from oak but look, in your hands, it slips into smoke.
You've made our last Grand Slam a joke
Actual rugby can never redeem your backroom moves of dodge and scheme.
It's you who need to raise your game
How can a committee always outlive coaches, players?
It's hard to forgive shadowy men with hands like sieves
Here's the last spoon, I carved it from gall: it's you, not the team, who have dropped the ball.
Hang this up, with shame, in your hall.
BY Gwyneth Lewis
What is a blog: Revised
N.B. - This is not a usual post from our author, but a slightly deep philiosophical insight into blogging as a practice. If you wish not to be bored senseless, wait for another update from the Celtic Pimp, due very soon.
You know, as well as I know, I can write some complete cack on this page. I mean, to fill some blog entries I have have really scraped the bottom of the barrel to bring you the life of Shabba. This by no means is an end to such trash - I endeavour to bring you more meaningless babble as my duty to the people. But recent days have got me thinking, and I ask the question slightly modified from the blog title of Tom's page; What is a blog?
It got me thinking because someone had asked me what a blog actually was. At first, I was tempted to say it was a diary. I suppose that was my understanding of it at first. We can write down our thoughts or our actions of the day, or even intertwine them to give someone else a peersonal run-down of our day to day lives. Seems about right? Maybe to many; yes, spot on. However I just wonder how many of those people actually write what they feel on those sites as a blog is not a diary really - diaries are traditionally known to be secret, an outlet of expression which isn't open to prying eyes. A diary can be descibed as something for yourself, not for others.
I have seen some blogs which don't even log events, but simply offer the blogger's opinion of recent current events. However they have tended to be politically minded people who tend to talk in a public sense, not about their own private spheres. But nethertheless, these people still give a window into their insights, their experience, their life. Therefore to blog, is not necessarily to walk a straight line.
Maybe it is a collection of thoughts. Maybe it's a diary. Maybe it is a well thought-out, step by step guide to world domination.
But I suppose above all, and this I know for sure, a blog is your own. It is your tool for your political objectives, it is your window to the world, it is your occassional letter to your relatives and old friends to let them know what you are doing at this moment in time. The question is - what is your blog? It can be anything, as long as it's yours.
You know, as well as I know, I can write some complete cack on this page. I mean, to fill some blog entries I have have really scraped the bottom of the barrel to bring you the life of Shabba. This by no means is an end to such trash - I endeavour to bring you more meaningless babble as my duty to the people. But recent days have got me thinking, and I ask the question slightly modified from the blog title of Tom's page; What is a blog?
It got me thinking because someone had asked me what a blog actually was. At first, I was tempted to say it was a diary. I suppose that was my understanding of it at first. We can write down our thoughts or our actions of the day, or even intertwine them to give someone else a peersonal run-down of our day to day lives. Seems about right? Maybe to many; yes, spot on. However I just wonder how many of those people actually write what they feel on those sites as a blog is not a diary really - diaries are traditionally known to be secret, an outlet of expression which isn't open to prying eyes. A diary can be descibed as something for yourself, not for others.
I have seen some blogs which don't even log events, but simply offer the blogger's opinion of recent current events. However they have tended to be politically minded people who tend to talk in a public sense, not about their own private spheres. But nethertheless, these people still give a window into their insights, their experience, their life. Therefore to blog, is not necessarily to walk a straight line.
Maybe it is a collection of thoughts. Maybe it's a diary. Maybe it is a well thought-out, step by step guide to world domination.
But I suppose above all, and this I know for sure, a blog is your own. It is your tool for your political objectives, it is your window to the world, it is your occassional letter to your relatives and old friends to let them know what you are doing at this moment in time. The question is - what is your blog? It can be anything, as long as it's yours.
St. David, you'd be proud
So the most Welshiest day of the day is upon us again and once more it greatly ignored in the British media. The opening of the Senedd today did actually get onto the BBC lunchtime news, which actually surprised me. I thought that it was going to be omitted but then again, the Queen came down - she will take centre stage anyway.You must excuse my British xenophobia, but I suppose some of you have just got used to it by now. My blood is boiling even redder than usual as I was not treated to some intelligent graffiti on a uni library toilet break, but completely idiotic and racist commets. On the wall of the cubicle I visited (Im sorry if you begin to get an image of this moment in your mind, I wouldn't wish that upon anyone) I noticed that someone wished that the 'Welsh inbreds will fucking choke this Saturday when England destroy them', referring to the rugby game a few weeks back. Inbreds? Do people still use that one!??!
28% of all Welsh people know their anthem. It's better than I first thought, but it's still damn shocking, not to mention appalling for a nation which is apparently growing in confidence. Yet more of us are willing to give up another holiday to make March 1st a public holiday. Pretty cool, huh? Although today a good few Welsh kids had the day off anyway thanks to the eira which fell down throughout the morning!
