England or America - Which one burns you up more?

I have returned from my short blogging exile with two gripes which have really got to me over the last few months. One is from the Yanks across the pond, whilst the other is directed at our neighbours over Offa's Dyke. Now I now One Man has become a nerve centre of nagging of late, but you will learn in time - this is what I do! Just ask Jen!

Gripe Number One - American TV advertising

Now I enjoy the good advert. The quality of advertising isn't at fault here. But if any of you have the channel ABC1 from your freeview or Sky boxes, you may see where I'm going with this.

If I'm not British, I'm certainly Welsh. But when its comes to TV I guess I am a typical Brit; a cup of tea with most programmes, watch the odd soap (yes now and again) and ensure that the kettle is on during the break for another cuppa. I assume that the way ad breaks are planned out on this island is a typical, standard British thing - theres a break before the programme, then one, two or three breaks are equally distributed throughout the programme so that each part is similar in length, then there is another break after the end of the programme to begin the cycle again for another programme. With me so far? Not rocket science at this point.

But if you watch this heathenous channel (yes it's heathenous, because it is American) you will know that this pattern of advertising is very different. I was reminded of this idiotic timing when I watched Scrubs on ABC1 the other day. To begin, the end of the previous programme rolls pretty much straight into the programme you want to watch, then when you get a small glimmer of the plot (lets say, not even 2 minutes in some cases) you get an ad break. Note at this point, that this channel tends to air a lot of 30-minute-time-slot sitcoms like Scrubs, so this is based purely on these type of shows. Then you watch pretty much the entire thing - then 2 minutes before the end, you get a break. After you have finished channel-flicking, kettle boiling, toilet going etc., they show the remaining few scenes - which are sometimes not worth coming back for! Then once the credits roll you know that another programme will start almost immediately.

I assume that this is the American way of advertising - ABC1 being a Brit channel but owned by the ABC corporation which airs Yankie sitcoms. But why alter with such a simple and effective way of 'ad timing' WHY!?!? For the same reason the Americans have to change everything for better ratings, which leads to a bigger profit. By watching the end of a programme, I am immediately thrown into another programme's beginning. I, as an average human being, will then watch that programme because I, just like most people, am lazy. If I get a sniff of the plot, I will stay for more. Once I have consumed a whole chunk of sitcom goodness, those bastards make me wait for the final 3 minutes. Then like a mug I wait (because the last 25 minutes would surely be wasted if you don't wait) and I watch the end, only to be flung into another programme.... and so on. Bottom line - American telly has evolved to ensure YOU watch. We are still in the stone age when it comes to network television.

But do you know what? I like the stone age. I don't want some network producer insulting my intelligence or trying different techniques so that I end up watching an episode of Hope and Faith (which is awful by the way). The ad break at the end of a programme is there for a reason, a bloody good reason as well! We need breaks between programmes to make sure we don't turn into couch potatoes, slobbing in front of the TV all day!

Sorry - this anti-American rant has been coming for a while. Especially with my current essay about how the US is denying the world the human rights it says it provides. Let it be known - Scrubs is now a Sky One treat when I go over my mum and dad's house.

Gripe Number Two - The British media and the celebrity

I hate the British media. I really do. And I hate the fact that we love celebrities so much. We are that sad that we 'have' to dream about them at night. We 'have' to step over our own mothers to meet them. We 'have' to do anything to become one. Why?!?!

Of course, both the media and the celebrity come hand in hand. The British media thrives on celebrity, celebrity thrives on the media. Call me jealous, call me envious, call me whatever - I bloody hate the celebrity culture. But do you know what I hate more? The fact that it is a particularly British quality. People do jump for joy in the name of the famous in other countries - but not as much as we do.

Two examples show this. Sven Goran Eriksson, the England manager who was exposed for a money grabber he is by the 'fake Sheikh' - courtesy of the News of the World - was perhaps shown by the media for the greedy man he really was by that stunt. If you are unaware, Eriksson was tricked into thinking a wealthy sheikh was interested in buying a Premiership club and was fooled into thinking he would be the new manager of it. He betrayed the confidenitality of some of his players including David Beckham and Michael Owen. It eventually cost him his job.

Fair enough when considering that he received his due for his actions - but why did the media have to take this step? Do we enjoy analysing celebrities so much that we want to see them fail and suffer, as well as live the high life? It was clear that Sven was pissed off at this debacle - but not at what he had done, but at the lengths the British media went to in intruding his private life. He has never been quiet about the role of the media whilst he was manager before now; they had always stuck their nose too far.

My second example - oddly enough Sven's potential succesor - Article!

Scolari has said in the above article:

"I don't want anything more to do with this England matter because in the space of two days... my life was invaded, my privacy was disrupted," said Scolari, who will remain Portugal coach until after the World Cup.

"There are 20 reporters outside my house now. If that is part of another culture, it is not part of my culture. I am not the coach, and will not be (England's) coach."

This is where I start to smile because the unthinkable has happened. The British media has actually chased someone away. It's clear that this over-exposure of the situation has scared Scolari, to which I dont blame him for at all. The egg yolk remains on the English and the FA - their media has cost them very dearly - and now they are back to square one, not to mention the embarrassment of pushing Scolari to the front of the queue only for him to reject. Maybe England will think twice before sending twenty million reporters to harass any given person next time.

So the choice is yours! Which one peeves you off more?!?!?!!?!?!?

Chernobyl

First and foremost I must give a birthday shoutout to my dad (not that he reads this at all) and hope that he has a good day. 26th April is a big day in my family as we celebrate my father's and my auntie's birthdays (they are twins), so also a shoutout to my auntie Linda too.

26th April may also roll off the tongue for another reason, but something a lot less personal to myself and would mean something to everyone as a human being. It is a day we should remember, but unlike birthdays, we should never celebrate it. Yes it was 20 years ago today since the nuclear reactor malfunction at Chernobyl, Ukraine had happened. If Hiroshima was not enough to show the devastation of nuclear power, Chernobyl certainly showed the world the sheer capability of it's fatal consequences.

Anyway, back to more personal matters. I have recently finished my essay on global inequality and now Im going to start one about US Human Rights Policy. After that, comes the dissertation! Fun fun!

Still considering options for next year regarding where to live, but hopefully we will have something sorted soon. Its hard to believe that the time spent here at Casa del Cathays will soon come to an end! Oh well, watch this space to see if I end up in a cardboard box on St. Mary's St in the near future.

Do you really care?

So I write today on a Maundy Thursday waiting for some articles to print. Im currently writing an essay on global inequality which now seems a lot more interesting than first thought. The title is a link to the giving of aid and charity in general and whether you actually care.

I hate charity collecting people - not the people themselves - just the complete miliking of what should be a very good cause. Charitable companies learned that pure education of what is happening in the Third World isn't enough to raise funds; they play upon our own humanity by showing graphic images of a small child, tiny and hungry, with flies all over his/her face, to make us feel guilty if we don't give something. Before charity was not forced into our faces, but now, its everywhere. Queen St. is always a potential minefield, now a street I rarely walk down for that reason these days.

Don't get me wrong; I give cash to charities and sometimes to ones which I have affiliation with or some kind of interest in or even spend a small fortune on books (which someday I will read) in charity shops. Not completely selfless I suppose, but money given all the same. It's just our feelings are played upon everyday to give over some moolah. And the number of charities are endless, there are so many - which one is better cause? Because you can't give to them all, can you? I guess some of you wish you could, but you know deep down you want that new car or that new CD, which means they will lose out.

So this essay is a way of rebalancing the situation in my mind. Im beginning to hate charity and I don't want to at all. I feel like these pesterers in town centres are almost making me unsympathetic; those images I know are losing their effect on me. So do you really care?

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Busy essay writing week therefore this week! Jen's hopefully getting a new car soon, so double yays for her. It's a bit more manly than Bob the First! Hail Bob the Second, Long Live the Car!!

I think I will write some more stuff when I have something more interesting to say, so until then blog fans - Live the dream, fight the struggle... and all that jazz.

When one just can't let go

As the world moves at steady pace, we would be fools not to keep up with the times. Well I guess for many this is the case. Living in the past is surely impossible when things move at such an alarming rate. To use a quick example - my old 32MB MP3 player was easily my best friend a few years back (sorry if anyone is offended by that, but hey, I loved that thing). It only held 9 songs at one time, which I listened to on a loop en route to uni every 3 days of a week. Yet now I have sampled the awesome power of a 20GB iPod I would surely never go back. Why, I hear you yelp? Exactly the reason why many wouldn't go back - the new MP3 player is way better than the 32MB one could ever be, because if I went back to using it I would yearn for the 5,000 songs at quick access instead of a measly 9 songs.

This seems hardly the type of thing i shouldnt go on about in a post of One Man. But I suppose I have encountered many people in my life who just cannot move on and embrace what is new, what is modern, not even what is tomorrow, but what is today. I love listening to the multitude of media my iPod has to offer, but that doesn't mean I now hate or ever hated those days of 9 track commutes. Those 9 tracks had a meaningful significance in my earlier days, but not now because I have accepted times have changed and curiously I relish what the future brings.

Now before you think I'm only taking about portable music players, think again. It astounds me as to how people want to live in the past. Some people I know want to still be in school, they still want to be in a safe environment which they could never experience again. I guess it goes something like this: We all have a time in our lives when we feel good about ourselves, our lives and the people around us. When the time comes for that to change for whatever reason, we stop at nothing to prolong it for as long as possible. As each person around changes one by one, you are forced to decide what is for the best - go with the trend and start a new, or remain defiant, like a punk rocker in his 30's. If no-one changes around you and you have no wish to change, well I guess you will be 16 years old all your life.

But heres the bigger picture I guess. We all change. Without change we are merely the same animal day in day out, walking ourselves into a short-sighted march of mindless repetition. You change to see the person you were before. I know I spent my first year in uni as a booze driven, bone idle and pathetic waster, who could have done so much more to better myself. I now know that my way of life at the moment is for me - until of course, it is time to change. It will come in a disguised form, but I know it will be coming.

I suppose I can look back and think it wasn't all that bad, because it wasn't. I had a ball; learnt a load about myself and I guess I grew up. But thats it you see - it was spent growing up. As the human critic that I am and we are, Im sure I will look back and cringe at most of what I've done. At the same time, I still know listening to those same 9 tracks was pretty great at the time.

I suppose we are all guilty of failing to move on. Why move if you're comfortable? Why move if all is well? Good point. But let me tell you something I've learned in my short experience on this planet - you are never comfortable or well. You are a camoflaging animal. You change your spots all the time to stay in the game and that is something you cannot deny. If you don't, you risk extinction from life, from love, from power. Just ask Silvio.

Im e-sure as hell

I write in a trash filled room, moderately full stomach wise and in need of shower. Therefore with these things in mind, I guess I'm at my most creative. Enter: another fine post on One Man - One Struggle.

This week I begin with an awesome edition to my teddy family, Mister Mouse. Funnily enough it has arrived now when I have decided to watch the Michael Winner advert on a loop, not to mention Nathan randomly shouting out 'Calm Down Dear' to me in work!! It has to be said, Esure do put a lot of effort when it comes to advertising. A common breed these days, comic advertising and the companies who have a humouroue approach to it, deserve an accolade of some sort. Remember the Tango adverts when a guy ran around slapping people with giant orange hands? Genius! Getting back to my new mousie, he now has a new home next to my lappie, hopefully to keep me sane throughout dissertation writing this summer!

Im still smarting over the recent TTFE-L (or now possibly TTFL) defeat, which puts us on 16 game losing streak without a point to our name. The lads have worked so hard over the last few months and yet we have reaped nothing from it. Last night hurt more than usual for a reason which Im still unsure of. Call me passionate (or dramatic, as Jen likes to call it!) or determined, or pathetic, but i find no other way to play other than to have your heart on your sleeve. It's because of this I'm remaining confident that we can pick up a draw or a win in the final 6 games, but when the time is ticking away and each game brings more pain in defeat, you can't be blamed for crawling under a rock and dying.

I enjoyed a nice meal with Jen's family to celebrate a few birthdays, last Saturday at the Ocean Park. One of the lucky birthday peeps is Oliver, who is enjoying life as a 14 year old from today. Happy birthday Oliver! The night itself was an interesting affair, complete with a game pictionary with Tom, Jen and Oliver!

Lee Trundle = Fool after this weekend. He will lose a lot of respect from Swansea and Cardiff fans alike after this very moronic act. Well done to the Jacks for keeping the League Trophy in Wales for another year.

Have recently been hooked on Gravity, the song by Embrace. What an awesome song.

Getting a new phone soon - watch this space for an update.

Work was same old, same old. I suppose thats the way I like it!

Right that's your lot. Im off to Mount Mess which is sitting beside me, in an attempt to climb and conquer it. Cheerio folks.