Well a new X Factor champion was crowned and now the whole of the UK can finally come off the edge of their seats. My Sunday night will now won't be the same for another 8-9 months - I'm going to miss those incredibly passionate Facebook updates claiming injustice (Fix, fix, fix!), racism (that Simon Cowell don't like us Welsh) or absolute disgust over whose who do or don't stay in.
As you can gather, I'm not a fan. However I did watch it a little bit and try to feign some interest, just to know what everyone was going on about (I was convinced Jedward was some place by Newcastle at first). In fact, I've just started my mini-protest by joining another bandwagon - the bid to make Rage Against The Machine the Christmas Number one single. The campaign on Facebook has been going for weeks and has had some good media coverage (I heard from NME). It has been the strongest of some sister campaigns (there's also a Journey - Don't Stop Believin' for No.1 Facebook group somewhere) and now it is believed that the bookies are sweating. Odds have been slashed from 100-1 to 3-1 after the publicity it has gathered. But the bookies aren't the only one whose sweating - Cowell has been on the defensive, branding the campaign as 'stupid'. So tonight I've just bought my copy of Killing in the Name from iTunes. Take that Cowell and Co! You like that? You want some more? I'll just buy another from a different IP address! Hah!
Before I carry on with the Cowell bashing, I have to take a step back and fully realise what I'm actually doing. I already own Killing in the Name from the RATM Album, so I've effectively just paid 99p for another copy of a song I already have. Why? To hope that I and the 700,000+ others will actually effect the Christmas Number 1 by buying copying of the song, to outsell the X Factor single (really, a Miley Cyrus cover?) which has now been released after the result.
It does seem a bit silly. There are some commentators who say this is a waste of time for many reasons. For one, Cowell probably isn't sweating in reality, because RATM are signed up to Sony and he is likely to benefit from the sales just as much as Geordie Joe. Therefore you probably not taking two fingers up to him financially by buying a copy. Secondly, it isn't a true reflection of Christmas and Killing In The Name is a song from the ninties (although that didn't stop that awful Mad World taking it - yeah that's right, I hated that song). Lastly, surely this campaign can't win? The Christmas number one is truly monopolised these days and it will take more than a bunch of Raged Facebookers to turn the tide when you consider the sheer weight of the X Factor brand.
When it comes down to it, I played along and invested my hard-earned 99p not just for a bit of fun, but it is just one giant experiment to truly test the power of social networking on a annual tradition which has completely changed over the years. With the decline of the CD single and the rise of digital downloads, it meant the floodgates had opened. This means that songs from any era that people buy could be counted towards the music chart. Remember that song by Black Sabbath you always liked but never had? Well now you can own it if it's available online and if a helluva lot of people feel the same way, you can actually influence the weekly chart. But with that, you have to consider the musical zeitgeist of the day on the habits of people's downloading. For example, when Michael Jackson died, it was inevitable that the charts would be flooded with Thriller, Beat It, Bille Jean and so on. If a new Rockband/Guitar Hero game is out of a particular band e.g. The Beatles, it would be no suprise that Hey Jude would sit top of the pile. The campaign of viral messages, Twitter posts and Facebook groups are proven effective communication tools. But could it shape future Christmas number ones?
For me, the Christmas number one stopped being the Christmas number one when the X Factor bullied and assumed the right to it a few years back. Maybe I don't know what the perfect Crimbo song sounds like, but for a start I'd like it to be... well, Christmassy! Stick some bells in there, with a choir or something! But now the whole thing is a sham, with absolute predictability and zero Crimbo content. I mean c'mon, at least Killing in the Name has some cow bell....
The Blurst of Times
It is the blurst of times. The word 'meh' is perhaps the best way to describe it.
This week's TTFE-L game has given me some real food for thought. To summarise, we conceded against the run of play, then went 3 goals down, strewn chance after chance and were humbled by a side we beat 12-2 in a reverse fixture. Losing 3-1, it was a match which could have unearthed as many footballing cliches as a Mick McCarthy post match interview, but above all we just didn't take our chances.
Games like these should make it think that some teams, maybe all, just have a bad day at the office. But maybe I delude myself in thinking that we are often better than we are, or perhaps, I am better than what I am. We all make mistakes - but I often think I don't learn from them enough and that is what is most important (great, another cliche).
Were we bad? Perhaps. We should be playing better with a full squad against a bare five side and now we've had a while to gel, teething problems are no excuse. It was a far cry from last week, summed up nicely by Riv (and honestly, it isn't because of the kudos I got). Is it OTT to say this result was a backward step?
I think above all, games like these often make me think about the performance too much. When I go on a gut feeling and strip the result from the equation, the lads put in a good shift. The thoughts after the game seemed to sum up just that. I just can't decide whether the result was good or bad really, avoiding the obvious nature of a loss denoting some kind of negativity. It's just meh.
Kind of the way I feel about Copenhagen too which starts tomorrow. I really can't get excited about it, nor think of it as some kind of lost cause just yet. It certainly has relevance for raising the issue of climate change, in fact it should actually do something about it. But I just can't muster the enthusaism to think it will actually do anything at all useful. It feels almost like the last roll of the dice on a global scale and I hope it wont be just another giant white elephant gesture just like Kyoto. Meh.
This week's TTFE-L game has given me some real food for thought. To summarise, we conceded against the run of play, then went 3 goals down, strewn chance after chance and were humbled by a side we beat 12-2 in a reverse fixture. Losing 3-1, it was a match which could have unearthed as many footballing cliches as a Mick McCarthy post match interview, but above all we just didn't take our chances.
Games like these should make it think that some teams, maybe all, just have a bad day at the office. But maybe I delude myself in thinking that we are often better than we are, or perhaps, I am better than what I am. We all make mistakes - but I often think I don't learn from them enough and that is what is most important (great, another cliche).
Were we bad? Perhaps. We should be playing better with a full squad against a bare five side and now we've had a while to gel, teething problems are no excuse. It was a far cry from last week, summed up nicely by Riv (and honestly, it isn't because of the kudos I got). Is it OTT to say this result was a backward step?
I think above all, games like these often make me think about the performance too much. When I go on a gut feeling and strip the result from the equation, the lads put in a good shift. The thoughts after the game seemed to sum up just that. I just can't decide whether the result was good or bad really, avoiding the obvious nature of a loss denoting some kind of negativity. It's just meh.
Kind of the way I feel about Copenhagen too which starts tomorrow. I really can't get excited about it, nor think of it as some kind of lost cause just yet. It certainly has relevance for raising the issue of climate change, in fact it should actually do something about it. But I just can't muster the enthusaism to think it will actually do anything at all useful. It feels almost like the last roll of the dice on a global scale and I hope it wont be just another giant white elephant gesture just like Kyoto. Meh.
Happy?
An empty thought
A niggle but a hole
A tarnish on a perfect weekend
I am rich in so many ways
But not enough to fill the void
A CD rack in A to Z
A pointy finger
A drop in the ocean
A toy camel made in Africa
Nestles proudly on my desk
Like my own plastic Arabia.
But I had to have it
Camels are essential
They enrich the soul
Make me culturally aware
And looks nice next to the phone
It makes me happy.
But I need another one
Cos Arabia never stood still
And accepted grey sand.
If we all accepted sand, maybe, just maybe
There would be no reason to fill,
To Spill,
To Kill.
We'd all be happy.
A niggle but a hole
A tarnish on a perfect weekend
I am rich in so many ways
But not enough to fill the void
A CD rack in A to Z
A pointy finger
A drop in the ocean
A toy camel made in Africa
Nestles proudly on my desk
Like my own plastic Arabia.
But I had to have it
Camels are essential
They enrich the soul
Make me culturally aware
And looks nice next to the phone
It makes me happy.
But I need another one
Cos Arabia never stood still
And accepted grey sand.
If we all accepted sand, maybe, just maybe
There would be no reason to fill,
To Spill,
To Kill.
We'd all be happy.
"Kiss more babies"
I've returned. But for how long? Only time will tell. I decided that the old blog needed some loving and so here you go - One Man One Struggle in all its glory.
To kick off proceedings, I guess I better I blow off some of the cobwebs. So here, for the first time for your pleasure, is an draft of a post-in-progress from over 8 months ago. Enjoy!
As you can guess.. I never got around to finishing it... story of my life.
To kick off proceedings, I guess I better I blow off some of the cobwebs. So here, for the first time for your pleasure, is an draft of a post-in-progress from over 8 months ago. Enjoy!
Easter's been a hoot. Four days off to recharge the ole' batteries, four days to actually chill out for a change! Not to mention the new episodes of Red Dwarf, Doctor Who and huge helpings of The Wire to catch up on recorded on the Sky+ box. Therefore you can probably deduce that the majority of my Easter has been spent inside and not in this glorious weather that we're having!
But that isn't to say I have been cooped up all the time. I did manage to see some Blues Brothers impersonators at the Lyndon club last night who could have sharpened up their act a bit, but they did belt out the regular hits like 'Everybody Needs Somebody to Love' and 'Gimme Some Lovin'. The moves were pretty flash, but they didn't give the late John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd any real justice.
I also went to the City game today where the Bluebirds emerged 3-1 winners over fellow play-off rivals Burnley. They played much better after the break, which is really fortunate because they were crashing the gears in the first half - but now it looks like I get to see my last City game at Ninian Park and thankfully it was a win to remember! I'm looking forward to the new stadium now but I really hope that it can grab some of that hostility that the Ninian created - like today's 19-odd thousand demonstrated to our Northern opponents. Although it's an neccesity to have a new all seater stadium for a Premiership-chasing club, I fear we could lose the cauldron effect that made our home 'Fortress Ninian'. I guess it's up to the fans to turn up en masse and keep singing.
On the subject of singing and songs in general, I turn to my love for Spotify, which is the fab new online stream music player that has made me feel like the proverbial 'kid in a candy store'. Spotify is great because it allows you lots of freedom in listening to online-streamed music by searching a sizable database for your fave songs which rarely disappoints. Of course you don't own the music - but it's free and you can save the songs on playlists.
As you can guess.. I never got around to finishing it... story of my life.
Back from the dead
If I like blogging so much, I guess I would do it more often. These words resonate through my mind most days when I feel like blogging, but I can't be bothered to start writing. So for once I'm using a free window of time to actually get something down and hopefully by reading this it means I actually finished a post! In my absence, they also said that blogging is dead. So let's call this a resurrection.
I do warn you though since my last proper post, I have evolved into something a bit more embittered and well... let's say cranky. Lately I have found even more reason to moan about modern life and everything in it, so I apologise now if this post suddenly mutates into a Max Goldman memoir.
My latest escapade comes from a jolly jaunt in my local neighbourhood, Grangetown CF. When waiting for my car to be fixed, I decided to have a look around the place of my birth, childhood and current residence. I was quite surprised with what I saw, as for the first time I started to see the area as a community of thriving local shops and interesting people instead of the place whee I rest my head at night. After walking up and down Penarth Road (which was coincidentally covered in a radio programme today) I decided to use the facilities at the newly-built library.
As I looked up to the bright, artificial lights of this medicinal-smelling 'sanctuary', I tried to remember with difficulty what libraries used to be like. Children squabbling over five minutes grace on a PC, only to play on some desktop game which requires hefty amounts of excessive clicking; a book checking in-and-out machine which the majority of its users can barely operate ('is this working'?, 'Do I need my card?', 'It's just flashing at me'); whilst works by Kant and Rousseau are deemed 'religious' in a broad array of subjects. But what really wrestles with my memories - for the reason I was wrestling with my book - is the fact that libraries are just not quiet anymore.
If I was 10 years old again, this observation would weigh like a feather on my mind. But now this revelation is earth shattering to me, like rocking an age-old institution. No-one would dream of talking at anything above a whisper. To do so would incur the wrath of the frighteningly efficient and stern-looking librarian, whose silence dictated the law of the library. And for those who were so foolish to speak over a certain decibel level, the librarian would simply become a man of action - brandishing his own justice to preserve the peace of his palace. Now whilst I get to grips with George Monbiot's latest book, I get the full details of librarian's ham and cheese sandwich for lunch, whilst her colleague boasts with enthusiasm (and volume) about the time off he's about to get. Where did it all go wrong? Why have libraries descended into this?
Appeal. Coffee shops, fancy computers, creches - the essential things that 21st century people 'want' or 'need'. The desperate attempts to give the library a more universal appeal. But it fails to consider the very things that libraries should stand for - being able to enjoy a good book in peace and tranquility. In the 21st century hustle and bustle, many facets of society have been busied, modernised, technologicalised and made to keep up the pace with our 24/7 lifestyle.
But the humble library, the embodiment of a social sanctuary outside the realms of pub and home, should remain the place that stays at the slow of a crawl. And quiet too.
I do warn you though since my last proper post, I have evolved into something a bit more embittered and well... let's say cranky. Lately I have found even more reason to moan about modern life and everything in it, so I apologise now if this post suddenly mutates into a Max Goldman memoir.
My latest escapade comes from a jolly jaunt in my local neighbourhood, Grangetown CF. When waiting for my car to be fixed, I decided to have a look around the place of my birth, childhood and current residence. I was quite surprised with what I saw, as for the first time I started to see the area as a community of thriving local shops and interesting people instead of the place whee I rest my head at night. After walking up and down Penarth Road (which was coincidentally covered in a radio programme today) I decided to use the facilities at the newly-built library.
As I looked up to the bright, artificial lights of this medicinal-smelling 'sanctuary', I tried to remember with difficulty what libraries used to be like. Children squabbling over five minutes grace on a PC, only to play on some desktop game which requires hefty amounts of excessive clicking; a book checking in-and-out machine which the majority of its users can barely operate ('is this working'?, 'Do I need my card?', 'It's just flashing at me'); whilst works by Kant and Rousseau are deemed 'religious' in a broad array of subjects. But what really wrestles with my memories - for the reason I was wrestling with my book - is the fact that libraries are just not quiet anymore.
If I was 10 years old again, this observation would weigh like a feather on my mind. But now this revelation is earth shattering to me, like rocking an age-old institution. No-one would dream of talking at anything above a whisper. To do so would incur the wrath of the frighteningly efficient and stern-looking librarian, whose silence dictated the law of the library. And for those who were so foolish to speak over a certain decibel level, the librarian would simply become a man of action - brandishing his own justice to preserve the peace of his palace. Now whilst I get to grips with George Monbiot's latest book, I get the full details of librarian's ham and cheese sandwich for lunch, whilst her colleague boasts with enthusiasm (and volume) about the time off he's about to get. Where did it all go wrong? Why have libraries descended into this?
Appeal. Coffee shops, fancy computers, creches - the essential things that 21st century people 'want' or 'need'. The desperate attempts to give the library a more universal appeal. But it fails to consider the very things that libraries should stand for - being able to enjoy a good book in peace and tranquility. In the 21st century hustle and bustle, many facets of society have been busied, modernised, technologicalised and made to keep up the pace with our 24/7 lifestyle.
But the humble library, the embodiment of a social sanctuary outside the realms of pub and home, should remain the place that stays at the slow of a crawl. And quiet too.
Mr Dresden
Laden with pomp,
Mr Dresden is on a mission in Aisle Five.
He asks not of trifled affairs,
mindless piffle
or prattling gossip.
The weekly shop isn't the time for such cares,
as loaves aren't as cheap when he was a lad.
Mr Dresden speaks not of the weather,
he 'glides' past the macs and hats like he 'always' had
soon in awe of the rain as an art form.
Trilby-topped lies? Perhaps
Mr Dresden is no Mr Jones
But his mishaps in petty consumerism
thrusting broadsheets in tabloid faces
and calling red apples scarlet cherubs
Wins no friends in high or low places.
Mr Dresden, in his tattered Saville Row
Let down his basket like banking accounts
Worldly capital feeds itself another day
now he eats corn flakes in plastic dishes
Declares the world is most beautiful
and wishes it wasn't any other way.
Mr Dresden is on a mission in Aisle Five.
He asks not of trifled affairs,
mindless piffle
or prattling gossip.
The weekly shop isn't the time for such cares,
as loaves aren't as cheap when he was a lad.
Mr Dresden speaks not of the weather,
he 'glides' past the macs and hats like he 'always' had
soon in awe of the rain as an art form.
Trilby-topped lies? Perhaps
Mr Dresden is no Mr Jones
But his mishaps in petty consumerism
thrusting broadsheets in tabloid faces
and calling red apples scarlet cherubs
Wins no friends in high or low places.
Mr Dresden, in his tattered Saville Row
Let down his basket like banking accounts
Worldly capital feeds itself another day
now he eats corn flakes in plastic dishes
Declares the world is most beautiful
and wishes it wasn't any other way.
