This dream; mysterious and vain, echoes beauty in bouncing tones.
Each tapping the real and entrapping the mind
A glorious green which I had never seen before
With a herd of glowing sheep all fleeing and being so kind.
This beauty does not strike one in the face
It is a silent spectacle - the dormant damsel;
Taken away from your grasp at the first sign of rapture
Stripped, broke down, evaporated even
into a jar to sell.
Back and forth, to and fro, stolen and giveth again
Like the hot potato of horticulture in my hands.
Yet, Tall trees tell tales of age and wonder
But they are lost in the forest of their own making
Their own beauty, the ripe red and free fruit
And it all makes sense in the event of my waking.
These elegant lies sent to sky before your puzzled eyes
The dark clouds of day, the busy sounds of microwaves and motorways;
They've no place in a one second sequila paradise
And the images we see are only ours to give away.
----------------
Now playing: David Bowie - Life on Mars?
via FoxyTunes
Standing in Leckwith
It could be anywhere in the world. But for many Cardiffians, this giant metal structure is most definitely the building site which sits at Leckwith. The new stadium, which will host Cardiff City FC football matches and Cardiff Blues rugby games from next season, is the coming along quite nicely - even if the surrounding road network is being completely recovered in layer upon layer of asphalt, causing commuters to dive through traffic cones every morning and night.
By looking at it properly today and actually being within 100m of what could be the ground's away fan section, it is finally becoming a reality after all the political infighting, financial wrangling and pie-in-the-skyism we City fans had to endure. As you can probably tell I was standing in what will be the retail park; the necessity which provided the start up capital for the stadium. To my surprise, I was curious to see that one store is already up and running - Costco.
Ah Costco. As I entered the sliding doors for the first time and witnessed the gargantuan open space of hoverboats, jacuzzis and other seemingly exclusive stuff, I was told that after an initial tour around 90% of people sign up as Costco members immediately. Oooh I thought - I guess I could have even signed up on behalf of my organisation (my 5-a-side football team of course). But after the golden tour of personal wandering, maybe the credit crunch was seriously affecting the wholesale price of Edam cheese or Wychwood beer, because I certainly didn't feel compelled to sign. This was one time where my curiosity could have been fine tuned to find something a bit more interesting.
It soon occurred to me that there was something else which bothered me about the place. Mainly the fact that it looked like thousands of square feet upon square feet of captured Manifest Destiny, complete with Chicago's Finest Beef Hot Dogs and specialist department signs which cry out to be spelt 'Center'. I wouldn't be surprised if a guy in an Uncle Sam suit wanted 'me' to try out some new Aunt Dixie's apple pie, to which the feeling of Americana would then be complete. As I walked passed the 'Photo Centre', I was reminded of the Walmart I went to in Mexico last year. Despite the jaw-dropping price deals and excellent variety of choice, Walmart has a certain quality which makes it seem extremely cold and alien - that it is distinctively American, no matter where it appears on Planet Earth. But then again I could be wrong - after all, it is a wholesale store designed purely for businesses not families on their weekly shop.
As a City fan I am overjoyed that the stadium shell stands proudly over the Leckwith wasteland. Yet I ask myself as retail park after retail park is being erected, can it be done any other way?
The Dystopian
We should want More.
One, Two, Three...
Home is a cardboard box
Littered with holes, both pried and tired
Cowering behind transparent locks
Our pathetic banal bovines graze
Pitter-patter tapping rhythm
Perpetual petty things amaze
Four, Five, Six...
Party to humble vermin and bashful worms
Sitting in happy filth and colourful dust
The helping hands on cunning clocks
Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.
Do you need colours with 101 shades of grey?
Our bulimic lies washed in chloroform
Saturated satanic libido in every way
A gram of butter keeps me slim
Their eyes only glisten on fool’s gold
Gluttons perish on wasted curds away
End transmission.
I scream inside to avoid the finger I eat books of dead authors and try to absolve madness with contraband I dream, I feel, I reach, I touch, I die a death each time I run home and I bathe in sewage to feel so wrong I make love to the world through my hands and catch the 9:07 to make myself smile.
Absolution is a clergyman's folly and I look for Him within
when the clock says 26:01
seas part
miracles made
as I gaze
into the light green sky
I cleanse my sin.
Going down
On the same day in which Fulham completed their great escape from the perils of Premiership demotion, the hope remained that a small amateur 5-a-side team from Cardiff could do the same. Football and fate however, are not necessarily willing bedfellows.
Tonight my beleaguered TTFE team suffered a second consecutive relegation after a 2-2 draw was not enough to keep away the jaws of doom. My knee bleeds from a broken scab, my throat sore from incessant shouting and my heart firmly on my sleeve. I still ask myself - why do I care so much?!
I wish I knew. I guess when it comes down to it, I love to be the underdog and win against the odds. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, the reward is ever so sweet. And with such hope, it can be a great thing to be an optimist. But now that hope is dashed I feel really deflated. Crushed. Tired. Rueful.
We didn't help ourselves all season with some shoddy performances and we didn't help ourselves tonight in a game which did not have any spark or vigour seen in the title winning campaign only last Autumn. I'm not going to go into the reason why we have dropped from Division Three to Five quicker than you can say 'offside', but as a trusty blog, I reserve the right to have a good moan about it. So here you are.
Tonight my beleaguered TTFE team suffered a second consecutive relegation after a 2-2 draw was not enough to keep away the jaws of doom. My knee bleeds from a broken scab, my throat sore from incessant shouting and my heart firmly on my sleeve. I still ask myself - why do I care so much?!
I wish I knew. I guess when it comes down to it, I love to be the underdog and win against the odds. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, the reward is ever so sweet. And with such hope, it can be a great thing to be an optimist. But now that hope is dashed I feel really deflated. Crushed. Tired. Rueful.
We didn't help ourselves all season with some shoddy performances and we didn't help ourselves tonight in a game which did not have any spark or vigour seen in the title winning campaign only last Autumn. I'm not going to go into the reason why we have dropped from Division Three to Five quicker than you can say 'offside', but as a trusty blog, I reserve the right to have a good moan about it. So here you are.
Just for your information
With only a few weeks to go for the local elections, you know at some time my enthusiasm for democracy will soon be displayed in some shape or form. Good friends of mine often despair at my customary rallying cry on forums, blogs, social networking sites for everyone to use their vote. I've recently been trying to find new political websites which can compile information from everywhere in the political arena. Sloth is terrible habit to develop, but is aided greatly by the web.
It was then I stumbled upon politicshome, a great beta site powered with ingenious Web 2.0 technology which pulls everything political in one place. Complete with up-to-date opinion polls, politico blog updates and carefully selected articles and videos from the daily press, this site is pure Eden for any political researcher (no pun intended). You might say it is a 'bit busy' from looking at it, especially as it can run rather slowly on low spec PCs (like mine). This said however, it is a marvel to think that all the information of the day in the sphere of politics pretty much sits on that page. It is like the Big Daddy of all pizzas - with all your favourite toppings put on one crispy base to enjoy in one sitting. Yummy.
But as I drool at the prospect of this mighty meat feast of current events and happenings, something doesn't feel right. I feel overindulged - rather unworthy of such news decadence. And then it hits me - as it hits me every time I search Wikipedia - do I have too much knowledge at my fingertips? At an age where the Internet can reveal any lost detail or forgotten fact, such as the name of that drummer in some obscure 80's band, or who was the last player to miss a penalty in a FA Cup Final, we can revel in such technology to put our minds at rest and solve any disputes which are raised over a pint or two at the booozer. After all we are only human.
What worries me though is if that in the pursuit for knowledge, does curiosity really kill the cat? Do we have too much information on our beckoned call? And is the quality of the information on sites like Wikipedia something we should be basing our core understanding of certain subjects?
In the typical dystopian society born out of sci-fi novels the lack of information is usually the tried and tested method of enslaving and stupifying the masses, but can too much free-flowing information only enslave and harm the very people that contribute towards it?
My paranoia over the way we pass on these tit-bits of information I guess is born from a video game. Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty has a fantastically deep, philosophically littered storyline I still thoroughly enjoy playing - but I'm sure it is a game I will never fully understand (thank God I seem to be in the majority here!).
To sum up what is a very complex storyline, a particular scene states how the Patriots (believed to be a mysterious group which are the true rulers of the world behind the puppet masters in public office) sort and filter through the human garbage of information that we produce to ensure that society remains intact. In this short exchange of words, 'The Colonel' and Rose, representations of this seemingly 'inhuman' group, are telling the protagonist Jack/Raiden how the human race is not fit to govern itself:
OK OK, if I'm talking about a dystopian novel dialogue, that would probably fit the bill quite nicely; it would probably look right at home in 1984 or Brave New World. And yes, this is taken straight out of a plot line which is as incredibly Japanese as a microphone in a Downtown Tokyo bar. But those words still resonate a harsh reality of whether there is too much of an opportunity for freedom of speech on the Internet.
Take for example, the ever-growing popular and controversial viral docu-film, Zeitgeist; a damning conspiracy theory of how the world's banking corporations are working towards a Novus Ordo Mundi or One World Government by linking religion, 9/11 and the US Federal Reserve. Pretty glass-shattering stuff, which you really have to watch with an open mind. Some interesting points, but for me the jury is still out.
Anyway - a subject which fits nicely with the Metal Gear storyline above - this film has gathered quite a following online, despite hitting home the message that 9/11 was an inside job and that religion is purely a construction by 'biblical' politicians to ensure hegemonic status in society. Ideas which are met with much resistance in any social sphere. And although these ideas would face very little credibility or support in the halls of US democracy, they have a powerful base online to inform and influence.
I don't mean to discredit Zeitgeist in anyway, especially as it claims to have been produced with extensive, accurate research. With more people fuelling their theories and posting them online, we could celebrate such a diversity of free thought. But offshoots from possibly credible theories drift nearer to fantasy. The fact that some of these theories can be devised on the basis of little truth or the assumed truth from the Wikipedia does lead to a harrowing conclusion - the fact that if an unfounded idea is popular enough, it has the potential to rock society to the core. Its like spreading rumours on a larger scale - and we all know that's how fires start.
But if a "single man does have the potential to ruin the world" and that "digital communication has given more power to the individual", maybe as a species we think about smartening up a bit. And to do that, maybe when it comes to big league stuff we should give 'Wikiing' a miss from time to time.
It was then I stumbled upon politicshome, a great beta site powered with ingenious Web 2.0 technology which pulls everything political in one place. Complete with up-to-date opinion polls, politico blog updates and carefully selected articles and videos from the daily press, this site is pure Eden for any political researcher (no pun intended). You might say it is a 'bit busy' from looking at it, especially as it can run rather slowly on low spec PCs (like mine). This said however, it is a marvel to think that all the information of the day in the sphere of politics pretty much sits on that page. It is like the Big Daddy of all pizzas - with all your favourite toppings put on one crispy base to enjoy in one sitting. Yummy.
But as I drool at the prospect of this mighty meat feast of current events and happenings, something doesn't feel right. I feel overindulged - rather unworthy of such news decadence. And then it hits me - as it hits me every time I search Wikipedia - do I have too much knowledge at my fingertips? At an age where the Internet can reveal any lost detail or forgotten fact, such as the name of that drummer in some obscure 80's band, or who was the last player to miss a penalty in a FA Cup Final, we can revel in such technology to put our minds at rest and solve any disputes which are raised over a pint or two at the booozer. After all we are only human.
What worries me though is if that in the pursuit for knowledge, does curiosity really kill the cat? Do we have too much information on our beckoned call? And is the quality of the information on sites like Wikipedia something we should be basing our core understanding of certain subjects?
In the typical dystopian society born out of sci-fi novels the lack of information is usually the tried and tested method of enslaving and stupifying the masses, but can too much free-flowing information only enslave and harm the very people that contribute towards it?
My paranoia over the way we pass on these tit-bits of information I guess is born from a video game. Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty has a fantastically deep, philosophically littered storyline I still thoroughly enjoy playing - but I'm sure it is a game I will never fully understand (thank God I seem to be in the majority here!).
To sum up what is a very complex storyline, a particular scene states how the Patriots (believed to be a mysterious group which are the true rulers of the world behind the puppet masters in public office) sort and filter through the human garbage of information that we produce to ensure that society remains intact. In this short exchange of words, 'The Colonel' and Rose, representations of this seemingly 'inhuman' group, are telling the protagonist Jack/Raiden how the human race is not fit to govern itself:
| Colonel: | Ironic that although "self" is something that you yourself fashioned, |
| every time something goes wrong, you turn around and place the blame on something else. | |
| Rose: | It's not my fault. It's not your fault. |
| Colonel: | In denial, you simply resort to looking for another, |
| more convenient "truth" in order to make yourself feel better. | |
| Rose: | ...leaving behind in an instant the so-called "truth" you once embraced. |
| Colonel: | Should someone like that be able to decide what is "truth"? |
| Rose: | Should someone like you even have the right to decide? |
| Colonel: | You've done nothing but abuse your freedom. |
| Rose: | You don't deserve to be free! |
| Colonel: | We're not the ones smothering the world. You are. |
| Rose: | The individual is supposed to be weak. But far from powerless -- |
| -- a single person has the potential to ruin the world. | |
| Colonel: | And the age of digitized communication has given even more power to the individual. |
| Too much power for an immature species. |
OK OK, if I'm talking about a dystopian novel dialogue, that would probably fit the bill quite nicely; it would probably look right at home in 1984 or Brave New World. And yes, this is taken straight out of a plot line which is as incredibly Japanese as a microphone in a Downtown Tokyo bar. But those words still resonate a harsh reality of whether there is too much of an opportunity for freedom of speech on the Internet.
Take for example, the ever-growing popular and controversial viral docu-film, Zeitgeist; a damning conspiracy theory of how the world's banking corporations are working towards a Novus Ordo Mundi or One World Government by linking religion, 9/11 and the US Federal Reserve. Pretty glass-shattering stuff, which you really have to watch with an open mind. Some interesting points, but for me the jury is still out.
Anyway - a subject which fits nicely with the Metal Gear storyline above - this film has gathered quite a following online, despite hitting home the message that 9/11 was an inside job and that religion is purely a construction by 'biblical' politicians to ensure hegemonic status in society. Ideas which are met with much resistance in any social sphere. And although these ideas would face very little credibility or support in the halls of US democracy, they have a powerful base online to inform and influence.
I don't mean to discredit Zeitgeist in anyway, especially as it claims to have been produced with extensive, accurate research. With more people fuelling their theories and posting them online, we could celebrate such a diversity of free thought. But offshoots from possibly credible theories drift nearer to fantasy. The fact that some of these theories can be devised on the basis of little truth or the assumed truth from the Wikipedia does lead to a harrowing conclusion - the fact that if an unfounded idea is popular enough, it has the potential to rock society to the core. Its like spreading rumours on a larger scale - and we all know that's how fires start.
But if a "single man does have the potential to ruin the world" and that "digital communication has given more power to the individual", maybe as a species we think about smartening up a bit. And to do that, maybe when it comes to big league stuff we should give 'Wikiing' a miss from time to time.
Sing for Cardiff - or Wales?
Yes another football post from me and also another about my beloved Cardiff City, who have recently reached the FA Cup Final for the first time in 81 years. What can I say- these are exciting times for Bluebird fans!
So Barnsley have become the latest to bite the sword of Dave Jones’s men after a nervy semi final at the Twin Towers of Wembley. We were all shaking like a leaf when Odejayi had that clear-cut chance at goal, but just as if the Lord had offered his own divine intervention, the Tykes hitman put the ball wide. It’s another trip to Wembley, another scramble for those ‘golden tickets’ and another chance for the young Welsh stars of Ledley and Ramsey to showcase their talents to audiences across the globe.
However, as my last post highlighted, this amazing cup run has also brought up new complications of nationalities and technicalities, which threaten to undermine the FA Cup’s rules and tradition. Europe is one thorny issue for the FA bigwigs to untangle, but now it is the turn of our own politicians to stir up another qualm at Lancaster Gate.
The latest episode in the FA Cup saga has been instigated by the Sports Minister for the Welsh Assembly Government, Rhodri Glyn Thomas, by calling for the Welsh national anthem to be played on FA Cup Final day with God Save the Queen.
The minister has stated: "I hope the FA is going to be sensible about things because there will be great disappointment in Wales if we're not allowed to sing the national anthem”. With little surprise, his view has been echoed by proud Welshmen and Welshwomen who would love to hear Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau to spur on Cardiff City into beating Premiership high-flyers Portsmouth.
The fact that City have made the final has truly added to what has been a great year already for Welsh sport; from the Grand Slam rugby heroes to the Swans earning their promotion to the Championship. There’s no denying its great to be Welsh right now.
Welsh or not, commentators from both sides of the border have played down the idea of the national anthem being played at Wembley on May 17. Gwyn Davies from the Valley Rams Supporters Club is among those against the idea, as well as the Western Mail’s Head of Sport, Paul Abbandonato. The latter of the two fears that two anthems will encourage booing from rival fans, which is not appropriate for such a prestigious day in the fixture list. Talk Sport presenter Mike Parry, who was clearly incensed by the idea, has rather foolishly and tactlessly stated that Thomas’s role in Wales could be adequately covered by sports counterpart Richard Caborn at Westminster; a comment which could be taken very much as a slur on Wales and it’s very political process. A comment that I certainly do not agree with.
However when it comes down to it, I have to agree that Mae Hen should play no part in the FA Cup Final. I fear that the more we dress up City’s run as uniquely a Welsh phenomenon, the more we jeopardise any chance of them becoming a top-rate club in the Premier League. I agree that City should go to Europe, but Cardiff have to face the facts and become ‘English’ to do that. I’m not saying we should ‘drop trou’ to the FA as it were, but just remember to abide by their rules in their league as the ‘invited guests’ we are. If that means that we should be respecting time-old FA Cup traditions by allowing certain anthems to be played, we have to accept that.
I believe that we stand on the abyss at the moment for Cardiff’s future in the Football League, as Cardiff need to play ball with the FA to ensure that they can observe all the privileges they can possibly deserve. As all this furore goes on over the FA Cup, in the background the FAW are looking at ways it can reform the Welsh Premier. It is likely now that the Welsh Premier will be split into two leagues of ten teams, to increase competitiveness and maintain the integrity of the league. This is a reaction to the previously unpopular idea of having Cardiff, Swansea and Wrexham field reserve squads in the Welsh Premier to give them a chance of earning European qualification via the Welsh football pyramid. To sum up, the subject of the ‘Welsh Exile Limbo’ hasn’t gone unnoticed by the FAW.
The FA will also be monitoring this closely, as they will have to reconsider the status of the Welsh Exiles for the long term. But as we in Wales continue to play both ends against the middle by wanting English league status with Welsh perks to boot, we should tread with caution. It would be devastating if one day Cardiff did break into the Top Four only to be denied entry to the Champions League because we pissed off the FA about aspects like these just to assert our nationality when it isn’t needed.
To emphasise the argument from Davies and Abbandonato, this isn’t England V Wales – no matter how much that duality seems glaringly obvious. Cardiff V Portsmouth is not a clash of nations, but simply two teams who play within the English football league. Although the Welsh factor is certainly some zest to the final, this should be a day about Cardiff City – who reached the final at the expense of other Welsh clubs, such as Swansea, Wrexham, or even Merthyr Tydfil or Newport County.
It begs the question whether the fans of those Welsh sides will actually root for the Bluebirds or will remain faithful to the regional rivalries which are well-known in Welsh football. The majority of non-Cardiff fans I’m sure will be supporting the South Coast club when the day comes.
If I were lucky enough to get to Wembley, I would belt out Gwlad, Gwlad until my lungs gave out if it meant the lads would be fired up by it. But in all honesty, I’m sure Men of Harlech, the anthem of Ninian Park, would have a much better effect on the likes of McPhail and Co.. A Welsh song through and through, I have no doubt the 25,000 Bluebirds will be raising the roof with the words to that immortal City hymn (or by replacing them with da-da-da-da-da-City, as it usually goes). This day is for Cardiff – and the rest of Wales if they are willing to wear blue for 90 minutes.
Cardiff on the continent?
March 9th 2008 - Middlesbrough FC, UEFA Cup finalists of 2006, are given a masterclass by Cardiff City on their own patch and lose the opportunity to progress to the semi finals of the FA Cup. In this most strange of years in modern FA history, 3 out of 4 teams at the semi final stage - West Bromich Albion, Barnsley and Cardiff City - will come from the second tier of the English game. That guarantees at least one Championship side in the FA Cup Final this May.
1927 is a pretty important year for Cardiff fans. In what has been a brilliant FA Cup run in 2008, 1927 has once again become cliche - the year in which City became the first (and only) Welsh club to ever take the trophy out of England. Now with the 'Big Four' out of the way, City fans believe that they can win the world's oldest football competition and reap the rewards which come with it.
For you see, the Holy Grail of the FA Cup isn't just the right to play the Premier League champions in the Community Shield season opener, nor just the chance to carve themselves into FA Cup history. It is also the gateway into the new dimension of European competition in next season's UEFA Cup. That prospect must be exciting for Portsmouth, Barnsley and West Brom. However for Cardiff the latter prize would only be a pipe dream. Even if they stand victorious at Wembley with the Cup in their grasp, Cardiff would not be playing the likes of Fiorentina or Bayern Munich in the UEFA Cup.
In what remains to a bizarre arrangement of national boundary, competitive fairness and strictly bound red-tape, the Welsh teams which ply their trade in the English game linger in limbo when it comes to European competition. The teams who are affected - Cardiff, Swansea and Wrexham in the professional tiers and Newport County, Merthyr Tydfil and Colwyn Bay in the English non-league pyramid - are simply 'associated members' of the league and their participation is based upon the foundation of certain 'rules'. One of these rules is that they would not be able to represent the FA (or England) in European competition, as they are Welsh clubs who are under the jurisdiction of the FAW (the Welsh FA). Bit of a bummer really.
Now that Michel Platini, the UEFA kingpin, has decided to look at giving Cardiff special dispensation into Europe if they were to win the FA Cup, the FA have sprung into action by also guaranteeing a review into the matter. AS Monaco have rubbed shoulders with Man Utd in the Champions League in the past, yet they come from a principality even smaller than our own. Yet they play in Ligue 1 and have the chance to play in Europe as French representatives. So why can't Cardiff do the same?
If only it was that simple. Monaco doesn't have a national league - but ever since 1995, Wales has. Back in the day the likes of Cardiff and Swansea freely competed in Europe through winning the Welsh Cup. But when the Welsh Premier League was set up FIFA and the FA stated that only teams in that league could contend for places in Europe to represent Wales. Seeing that the six English league Welsh teams wanted to stay in the English league (whilst the likes of Barry Town and Bangor City went into the Welsh Premier) they were unable to play in the Welsh Cup as well, as they played in the English league and their own cups.
Thus, since 1995, the teams participating in Europe to represent Wales were purely from the Welsh football league system - not including the exiles of above six teams. And let's be fair - Welsh they maybe through and through, and although there is growing improvement from the Welsh Premier crop, they stand little chance of progressing very far in Europe.
It all seemed a bit silly, especially when back over the last 30-40 years the legality of European qualification was a headache for the teams who played in the Marches. Whilst the FA states that the 'Welsh exiles' can't play in Europe by winning their cups, we invited the likes of Shrewsbury and Hereford to compete in the Welsh Cup but because they were English; we refused them a route into Europe as a Welsh representative. This tat-for-tat has denied true winners of what is rightfully theirs for decades.
So what is a modern answer? Is there a way of giving true winners the rewards they deserve and transcend the boundary of Offa's Dyke?
Big Sam Hammam once said that he would make sure Cardiff City would play Barcelona one day in the Champions League in a golden era of the football club. I wonder how he was going to arrange that, considering that it was never possible under the rules! But that does bring up an important consideration if Cardiff and Swansea - who both look to be on the rise - do make it to the Premier League.
I might be optimistic, but I know one day a Welsh club like Cardiff or Swansea could be contending for a European place in the Premiership season after season. This legality would therefore keep cropping up and up and there is no doubt that with so much money to be had in the game today, the Welsh clubs will undoubtedly fight tooth and nail to get the European place they deserve. A solution should be found - even if it means they become 'English'.
It is clear that if City want to have the money and have the chance to play in Europe, they have to become an English club in the eyes of the FA and the world. This would mean being based in England. Chester City actually play their home games in Wales, whilst their offices are in England - but of course the Anglo-Welsh border does run through the city boundary.
As much as I would like the FAW to become stronger and have a league system just like our Celtic cousins up north, it is clear that the Exiles are a lost cause. The sooner we tidy up the techicalities of national origin, the sooner the Welsh exiles can get settled into the league they truly want to be a part of.
Tired (Confessions of the Hired)
March already? Thats what you get when you blink for too long. Spring is upon us with such speed that One Man has hardly seen any winter posting at all. Shame on me - giving too much attention to other blogs and the TTFE history.
If truth be told however, I can't blame my lack of personal blogging totally on other written work. For now I am a working man, I have to admit defeat and say to all those bloggers who became extinct when they got new jobs that I too am dying a slow online death. I blogged so much over the last year (basically moaning that I couldn't get a job) and now that I have got a wage I've neglected the blogging page.
Shame really - I liked blogging too.
If truth be told however, I can't blame my lack of personal blogging totally on other written work. For now I am a working man, I have to admit defeat and say to all those bloggers who became extinct when they got new jobs that I too am dying a slow online death. I blogged so much over the last year (basically moaning that I couldn't get a job) and now that I have got a wage I've neglected the blogging page.
Shame really - I liked blogging too.
"It wears him out"
Evening all. My 24th birthday has been a good one, complete with lovely gifts and warming messages from friends old and new. You can tell I'm coming of age - my eyes lit up at the sign of a new shaver (Jen), some new jumpers (Mum and Dad) and the complete, seven part map of Great Britain (Janis and Mike). Last night the Argos crew were out in good force to celebrate mine and Baz's birthdays at the Hollywood Bowl, to take part in what has become to me a forgotten past time. I hope everyone had a good time as I know I did. Thanks again for coming out in droves!
As you may know by now, especially if you read the South Wales Echo, I am a rubbish superhero. My working alias, Bagman (a bloke who wears a coat covered in plastic bags), was exposed to Glamorgan and beyond and with no hope of retaining my secret identity, my standing amongst mates has taken a bit of a knock. Understandably. But despite this dent to my social dignity, the publicity stunt has widened the scope of what I am doing at Sustainable Wales, with people taking more of an interest in the plastic bag free cause.
Sad thing is now, I feel like plastic is taking over my life. I seem to be humming Radiohead's classic, 'Fake Plastic Trees' wherever I go - and in everything i do, I analyse alternatives to everything plastic, not just plastic bags. When picking up a chinese for tea (food not person), I was trying to discuss with my mum the practicalities of using less plastic bags in chip shops and takeaways, stating that they should at least use more paper, but not too much. I had to stop when I realised I was actually inspecting the plastic bags used for the prawn crackers. This over- enthusiasm isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is when you are the one who is driving.
Sometimes, I just wish I could stop thinking.
As you may know by now, especially if you read the South Wales Echo, I am a rubbish superhero. My working alias, Bagman (a bloke who wears a coat covered in plastic bags), was exposed to Glamorgan and beyond and with no hope of retaining my secret identity, my standing amongst mates has taken a bit of a knock. Understandably. But despite this dent to my social dignity, the publicity stunt has widened the scope of what I am doing at Sustainable Wales, with people taking more of an interest in the plastic bag free cause.
Sad thing is now, I feel like plastic is taking over my life. I seem to be humming Radiohead's classic, 'Fake Plastic Trees' wherever I go - and in everything i do, I analyse alternatives to everything plastic, not just plastic bags. When picking up a chinese for tea (food not person), I was trying to discuss with my mum the practicalities of using less plastic bags in chip shops and takeaways, stating that they should at least use more paper, but not too much. I had to stop when I realised I was actually inspecting the plastic bags used for the prawn crackers. This over- enthusiasm isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is when you are the one who is driving.
Sometimes, I just wish I could stop thinking.
Feeling Haggard
I feel rough. I don't think it is down to being tired; in fact, I feel like my new sleeping regime is actually beginning to work. My body clock is in the process of being reprogrammed as it was one of my New Year's resolutions to try and get regular sleeping patterns. It will be the first time since going to Mexico last summer that I have tried to get some normality back into my sleeping schedule. So its not the lack of kip. And although I have started a full time job, I surely can't be so tired after such a break over the Crimbo period.
Maybe it is the fact that I have just played football and I continue to sit in my own sweat filled filth. But lets be fair, those who know me will know I don't play much of the game to even create a drop of sweat on my brow. To say that football has given me this lethargic aura would not do any justice to any of the other players who graced the pitch for twelve minutes plus compared to my pitiful five.
Maybe it is paranoia and pure fear which is draining my reserves. With some strange sightings of the odd housefly and field mouse in my house over the past week, my senses have been thrown into overdrive. I would be kind to myself if I said I didn't suffer from paranoia or freak worry; triple-checking the front door is locked when leaving the house will certainly prove that I'm prone to some petty OCD. When a mouse does find a way into the home it always causes minor panic for even the mightiest of men; in fact, it made a nearly-24 year old man scream his lungs out in fright last night (no names mentioned). For me however, the common housefly is an even greater nemesis. One thing I hate about the summer are the swarms of flies which to-and-fro and in-and-out of the house, flying around, buzzing, perching themselves on living room walls, rubbing their legs together with glee... you get the picture. For the record, I vehemently hate all flying things from gnats to locusts and if they were to disappear tomorrow and with it destroy food webs everywhere, it would be a sacrifice worth making. However with such a passionate hatred of these winged fiends, there exists a resounding fear of them which is just as strong. I find it hard to be in the same room as a fly not just because I hate them, it is because I am simply shit-scared of them. So when one, average sized bluebottle appeared out of the blue in my bedroom the other day on a January afternoon, my self-defence system went berserk. Normally emerging in April, this premature launch of my 'fly-radar' may have some effect on my overall energy levels. But let's face it, that can't be the reason for feeling this way - that's just plain stupid.
Maybe I have caught a stomach bug or some kind of winter cold/virus. If I had, I probably wouldn't be typing. I moan like a bitch when I'm ill (I'm sure Jen could vouch for that) and although I have a daily love affair with my PCs, my grumpy mood swings would deter me from having the patience to allow the computers to boot up.
I guess it is just must be the winter blues then. I'm sure the most miserable day of the year is soon approaching; calculated by scientists who combine all the aftermath woes of the Xmas period, the cold weather, lack of money, shorter days etc. and pinpoint it to one day a day in mid/late January which emphasises them most. If it's on my birthday this year, there will be hell to pay - I'm not optimistic as my b'day is on a Monday this year....
Maybe it is the fact that I have just played football and I continue to sit in my own sweat filled filth. But lets be fair, those who know me will know I don't play much of the game to even create a drop of sweat on my brow. To say that football has given me this lethargic aura would not do any justice to any of the other players who graced the pitch for twelve minutes plus compared to my pitiful five.
Maybe it is paranoia and pure fear which is draining my reserves. With some strange sightings of the odd housefly and field mouse in my house over the past week, my senses have been thrown into overdrive. I would be kind to myself if I said I didn't suffer from paranoia or freak worry; triple-checking the front door is locked when leaving the house will certainly prove that I'm prone to some petty OCD. When a mouse does find a way into the home it always causes minor panic for even the mightiest of men; in fact, it made a nearly-24 year old man scream his lungs out in fright last night (no names mentioned). For me however, the common housefly is an even greater nemesis. One thing I hate about the summer are the swarms of flies which to-and-fro and in-and-out of the house, flying around, buzzing, perching themselves on living room walls, rubbing their legs together with glee... you get the picture. For the record, I vehemently hate all flying things from gnats to locusts and if they were to disappear tomorrow and with it destroy food webs everywhere, it would be a sacrifice worth making. However with such a passionate hatred of these winged fiends, there exists a resounding fear of them which is just as strong. I find it hard to be in the same room as a fly not just because I hate them, it is because I am simply shit-scared of them. So when one, average sized bluebottle appeared out of the blue in my bedroom the other day on a January afternoon, my self-defence system went berserk. Normally emerging in April, this premature launch of my 'fly-radar' may have some effect on my overall energy levels. But let's face it, that can't be the reason for feeling this way - that's just plain stupid.
Maybe I have caught a stomach bug or some kind of winter cold/virus. If I had, I probably wouldn't be typing. I moan like a bitch when I'm ill (I'm sure Jen could vouch for that) and although I have a daily love affair with my PCs, my grumpy mood swings would deter me from having the patience to allow the computers to boot up.
I guess it is just must be the winter blues then. I'm sure the most miserable day of the year is soon approaching; calculated by scientists who combine all the aftermath woes of the Xmas period, the cold weather, lack of money, shorter days etc. and pinpoint it to one day a day in mid/late January which emphasises them most. If it's on my birthday this year, there will be hell to pay - I'm not optimistic as my b'day is on a Monday this year....
2007 - A year in review
Is it really New Years already? The festive season has crept up so quickly this year, it only feels like yesterday that I was writing about the start to my Annus Horribilus - where I my organisation was seemingly inept. The time just moves way too quickly these days!
But to be fair, the awful start to the year did not carry further into the following months and I was lucky to have a fairly good year overall. Although I spent all year moaning how I couldn't get a job, I embarked on some volunteer work at Sustainable Wales in May and in the past few weeks, I have been offered a full time position at the organisation. I look forward to going back in January to take on an exciting role. Our annual holiday this year was to Mexico, which was simply fantastic. I have seen some brilliant gigs this year, inclduing the Foos, Stereophonics and the Manics who never disappoint. TTFE has had a great year too - be it singing Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau on St. Davids Day or dressing up in Hawaiian outfits for the 100th recorded game, the organisation has been pretty eventful this year. The TTFE Xmas party was also good fun, and my TTFE history was well-received too.
Here on One Man, I have also tried to keep writing consistently over the year. Apart from November and December, I thought I was pretty good at it! I have written about the horrors and sequential collapse of ITV Play, the Welsh smoking ban in April, the meteoric rise of 5-a-side football in society and even the value of what's free over the past year. I promise more of the same next year!
But to be fair, the awful start to the year did not carry further into the following months and I was lucky to have a fairly good year overall. Although I spent all year moaning how I couldn't get a job, I embarked on some volunteer work at Sustainable Wales in May and in the past few weeks, I have been offered a full time position at the organisation. I look forward to going back in January to take on an exciting role. Our annual holiday this year was to Mexico, which was simply fantastic. I have seen some brilliant gigs this year, inclduing the Foos, Stereophonics and the Manics who never disappoint. TTFE has had a great year too - be it singing Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau on St. Davids Day or dressing up in Hawaiian outfits for the 100th recorded game, the organisation has been pretty eventful this year. The TTFE Xmas party was also good fun, and my TTFE history was well-received too.
Here on One Man, I have also tried to keep writing consistently over the year. Apart from November and December, I thought I was pretty good at it! I have written about the horrors and sequential collapse of ITV Play, the Welsh smoking ban in April, the meteoric rise of 5-a-side football in society and even the value of what's free over the past year. I promise more of the same next year!
The Knave
A poem that I wrote a while ago, one that I am quite happy with. Enjoy.
The Knave
The knave, who finds himself at the edge of a sword,
Finds relief in profusely pleading for his life.
His desperate lies, his empty promises,
Each word of weakness measures the sweat on his brow.
His face, a glowing shade of yellow,
The man's next of kin, irrelevant in his mind
Those cowardly eyes speak of incompetance
Foolish ways, a stolen valour of man once slain.
This pauper was in haste to murder another,
Now he lies in wait at the iron grip of justice.
In this man's world, everything has a price
Pride is a mere shilling or too, power proves costly
But honour is to be taken from a broken man.
A naked throat exposed to a cold, metallic consequence
With the a sheath of dirty honour to save his life.
No matter how many men slain, the caged bird always sings
Mercy is the only avenue for those of inferior cloth.
A rogue proclaims his freedom from the knife
A life on rent from the righteous,
But borrowed honour will enslave this man forever.
If only he could accept death like he could accept life,
He could be free and have honour for himself.
The Knave
The knave, who finds himself at the edge of a sword,
Finds relief in profusely pleading for his life.
His desperate lies, his empty promises,
Each word of weakness measures the sweat on his brow.
His face, a glowing shade of yellow,
The man's next of kin, irrelevant in his mind
Those cowardly eyes speak of incompetance
Foolish ways, a stolen valour of man once slain.
This pauper was in haste to murder another,
Now he lies in wait at the iron grip of justice.
In this man's world, everything has a price
Pride is a mere shilling or too, power proves costly
But honour is to be taken from a broken man.
A naked throat exposed to a cold, metallic consequence
With the a sheath of dirty honour to save his life.
No matter how many men slain, the caged bird always sings
Mercy is the only avenue for those of inferior cloth.
A rogue proclaims his freedom from the knife
A life on rent from the righteous,
But borrowed honour will enslave this man forever.
If only he could accept death like he could accept life,
He could be free and have honour for himself.
Beating the Honesty Box : I just can't do it
It was a long time coming but when it came the idea still hit me for six. With Prince giving away his latest offering via a Sunday newspaper tabloid and the Charlatans new album soon to be available as a free download from the XFM website, Radiohead’s In Rainbows album shouldn’t be too much of a shock in comparison. The album is now available for free from their newly branded website. However, this album isn’t just free. In contrast it is you- the loyal fan, the musical connoisseur, the first time listener – who has a choice of what to pay.
Now we are faced with a moral dilemma. For the first time, we hold the fate of the band in our hands through our own philanthropy. The ‘honesty box’ on the Radiohead website allows anyone to place any amount they wish, how much they think the band deserve, how much they can afford, all in one act of swift judgment. The thing is if something is free and we are told it is free, then we have no problems in accepting it’s free. If a CD costs a tenner in the shops we often moan and grumble, but we know that certain factors have made it that price; such as CD production, the record company’s cut, the band’s cut and so on. But what they are asking us to do is to consider all that and make us decide what we deem a fair price. It’s not free; but it is if you want it to be, or if your conscience would let it be. That’s the conundrum and the internal struggle.
I haven’t tried the site out yet but already I am thinking of a price I could offer. Why can’t I just get it free I hear you ask? It’s the damn box – the opportunity of a free download is always irresistibly tempting to me, but I just can’t put three noughts in those boxes. It just doesn’t seem right. That’s the genius of it though isn’t it; when faced with the band you appreciate directly through their own domain, you just can’t rob them blind. If you download illegally through a third party I guess you could feel rather better about yourself. Maybe there are a lot of people like me out there; too gutless to say to the band that they’re stealing your music from right under your nose. It’s like trying to take the whole chocolate cake from the table before dinner when your mother isn’t looking; then to your shock and amazement, your mother returns to offer the whole cake to you willingly. We, the confused children, can only take a small slice or even nothing at all, because we think something is afoot; or we know that mother is gonna be pissed if we now decide to take the whole cake. If you have the balls to take the whole thing in her face before eating your roast dinner, I salute you.
This isn’t to say that Radiohead will shop anyone who is downloading for free. This isn’t what they want to do. To be honest though, I don’t know what they plan to do by doing this. Are they making a statement about the music industry, about how it has forgotten its real artistic roots for the sake of a quick buck? Are they trying to revolutionise the way in which we listen to our music, by further manipulating the internet and the download trend? Is Thom Yorke going off his rocker even more than usual? Probably not; my hunch is that with frontman Yorke, being as intelligent as he is, there must something we are missing here. Never one to shy away from making a bold statement, I’ve a feeling he knows exactly what he is doing with this box. I wouldn’t be surprised if this album, fully realised by the band before hand, was not up to scratch with OK Computer, Kid A or The Bends; and was subsequently a B-Side album in an A-side album guise to be given away in a sensational, traditional breaking manner. The critics have already said this album possesses no Street Spirit, no Paranoid Android, no Creep, no No Surprises. If this is the case, Yorke is conducting a very interesting social experiment; one in which I am deeply fascinated to hear about.
Is the intention to see how honest we are? A test of moral fibre if you will? Are we being prompted to think about how we conduct ourselves in obtaining our music? Surely too moralistic! I could choose to join the cynics and ask ‘is he being just plain selfish’? Going back to the whole ‘in it to stop illegal downloads and possibly make more money’ argument, touched upon briefly earlier in the child and cake scenario, if more downloads were carried out in this way, the illegal downloads would soon decrease as they would just not be needed. Bands themselves would soon be the face of the downloads, not download sites. This way, the band gets something out of it; well mainly from those who fall victim to their consciences. Oh and of course from those who are easily swayed into buying a CD and DVD twin pack made available next year for a massive £40 or so. That too.
But maybe it isn’t about tackling the problem of illegal downloading by offering an honesty box. Please excuse the egoism here, but as much as I like to think there are lots of people out there just like me, there aren’t. I would imagine that a fairly large amount of people will end up entering zilch, nada, dim byd in the In Rainbows online payment box. The question is: why pay more, when you don’t have to? That cheeky Del Boy attitude is infectious here in the UK and is something we shouldn’t necessarily be ashamed of, where a nagging, silent morality sometimes takes a back seat to make way for the financial nous. Of course, we do this in small doses to avoid the risk of becoming too obsessed with making money at whatever cost, like our friends across the Atlantic pond. For many, the cost dodging is justified in a talentless pool of mediocre music. Many people are sick of paying well over the odds for a weakly made CD these days, where albums have only one or two strong tracks.
So for those who beat the honesty box, I salute you, just like the child who took the whole cake. But remember one thing – nothing in life is free, just like the 45p album card handling fee upon placing the three zeros will clearly demonstrate.
Now we are faced with a moral dilemma. For the first time, we hold the fate of the band in our hands through our own philanthropy. The ‘honesty box’ on the Radiohead website allows anyone to place any amount they wish, how much they think the band deserve, how much they can afford, all in one act of swift judgment. The thing is if something is free and we are told it is free, then we have no problems in accepting it’s free. If a CD costs a tenner in the shops we often moan and grumble, but we know that certain factors have made it that price; such as CD production, the record company’s cut, the band’s cut and so on. But what they are asking us to do is to consider all that and make us decide what we deem a fair price. It’s not free; but it is if you want it to be, or if your conscience would let it be. That’s the conundrum and the internal struggle.
I haven’t tried the site out yet but already I am thinking of a price I could offer. Why can’t I just get it free I hear you ask? It’s the damn box – the opportunity of a free download is always irresistibly tempting to me, but I just can’t put three noughts in those boxes. It just doesn’t seem right. That’s the genius of it though isn’t it; when faced with the band you appreciate directly through their own domain, you just can’t rob them blind. If you download illegally through a third party I guess you could feel rather better about yourself. Maybe there are a lot of people like me out there; too gutless to say to the band that they’re stealing your music from right under your nose. It’s like trying to take the whole chocolate cake from the table before dinner when your mother isn’t looking; then to your shock and amazement, your mother returns to offer the whole cake to you willingly. We, the confused children, can only take a small slice or even nothing at all, because we think something is afoot; or we know that mother is gonna be pissed if we now decide to take the whole cake. If you have the balls to take the whole thing in her face before eating your roast dinner, I salute you.
This isn’t to say that Radiohead will shop anyone who is downloading for free. This isn’t what they want to do. To be honest though, I don’t know what they plan to do by doing this. Are they making a statement about the music industry, about how it has forgotten its real artistic roots for the sake of a quick buck? Are they trying to revolutionise the way in which we listen to our music, by further manipulating the internet and the download trend? Is Thom Yorke going off his rocker even more than usual? Probably not; my hunch is that with frontman Yorke, being as intelligent as he is, there must something we are missing here. Never one to shy away from making a bold statement, I’ve a feeling he knows exactly what he is doing with this box. I wouldn’t be surprised if this album, fully realised by the band before hand, was not up to scratch with OK Computer, Kid A or The Bends; and was subsequently a B-Side album in an A-side album guise to be given away in a sensational, traditional breaking manner. The critics have already said this album possesses no Street Spirit, no Paranoid Android, no Creep, no No Surprises. If this is the case, Yorke is conducting a very interesting social experiment; one in which I am deeply fascinated to hear about.
Is the intention to see how honest we are? A test of moral fibre if you will? Are we being prompted to think about how we conduct ourselves in obtaining our music? Surely too moralistic! I could choose to join the cynics and ask ‘is he being just plain selfish’? Going back to the whole ‘in it to stop illegal downloads and possibly make more money’ argument, touched upon briefly earlier in the child and cake scenario, if more downloads were carried out in this way, the illegal downloads would soon decrease as they would just not be needed. Bands themselves would soon be the face of the downloads, not download sites. This way, the band gets something out of it; well mainly from those who fall victim to their consciences. Oh and of course from those who are easily swayed into buying a CD and DVD twin pack made available next year for a massive £40 or so. That too.
But maybe it isn’t about tackling the problem of illegal downloading by offering an honesty box. Please excuse the egoism here, but as much as I like to think there are lots of people out there just like me, there aren’t. I would imagine that a fairly large amount of people will end up entering zilch, nada, dim byd in the In Rainbows online payment box. The question is: why pay more, when you don’t have to? That cheeky Del Boy attitude is infectious here in the UK and is something we shouldn’t necessarily be ashamed of, where a nagging, silent morality sometimes takes a back seat to make way for the financial nous. Of course, we do this in small doses to avoid the risk of becoming too obsessed with making money at whatever cost, like our friends across the Atlantic pond. For many, the cost dodging is justified in a talentless pool of mediocre music. Many people are sick of paying well over the odds for a weakly made CD these days, where albums have only one or two strong tracks.
So for those who beat the honesty box, I salute you, just like the child who took the whole cake. But remember one thing – nothing in life is free, just like the 45p album card handling fee upon placing the three zeros will clearly demonstrate.
October 1st
I could have named this post after anything remotely interesting. You all know how much I love my witty, often alliteration ridden titles. Today however I have decided to dedicate the day to the very date which it is commonly defined - October the first.
Today has been important on so many levels in the realm of current events, as newsrooms had a field day with all of these significant happenings. Today, we observed a severe hike in fuel prices, with the price of diesel topping and overtaking the pound mark. No surprise that the Haulers United will soon rise again and convoy back down the M4. Today, the Sustainable Development Commission released their report into the Severn Barrage proposal - a monumental environment 'see-saw saga' which is begging for a swift and definite solution. It is clear that this report will have a massive effect on which way this project is going to proceed, with both the government and pressure groups in locked horns over what to do. Today, the minimum legal age that one can purchase tobacco in Great Britain has become 18 - meaning that all those nicotine-addicted 16 year olds should feel cheated towards what is clearly an unsympathetic ruling, but at the same time, they should feel appreciative at the prospect of avoiding the Big C many years down the line.
Besides those events, there's been a few changes and new beginnings closer to home. Today I started my second work placement in Porthcawl, working for Sustainable Wales. Today, I looked outside my bedroom window and realised that the torrid and harsh rainfall against a darkened morning sky ended any hope of a much needed Indian Summer. Today, after work, I drove home from the seafront with the winter blues slowly coming on, despite the best attempts of Katrina and the Waves on the radio to keep me thinking of sunny Mexico only a few weeks ago. Today, I knew for the first time that summer had finally disappeared and Christmas (or should I say seasonal?) lights will soon be glowing in the hallway.
Today, I just feel different. I think I know why too. Today was also the first taste of university lectures for many newly enrolled students across the nation. Of course, the younger ones had gone back to school a month ago. The date however, isn't important. The point is - whether it is September or October in which the younger generation begin their studies, it's clear that to them the scholastic year is the calendar which just feels the most natural. January to December maybe the default year we all reflect upon and use clearly for establishing one numbered year from the other, but just like the awkward and disjointed football season runs from August to May, it feels right to treat each scholastic year the real one to plan the 'year' by. In September and October, I make plans for the next twelve months if it is possible; I certainly do not plan my year in January - and if I do, it is only the crappy New Year Resolution which I barely maintain until Valentine's Day. Even the tax year runs across two numbered years - from April to March - which is the most important timetabled record you can think of when it comes to earning your bread. So I ask - does anyone actually think of a year, as a year?
Well I don't. Therefore it makes complete sense that I decree this day, October 1st, the very first day of the year. Which means a new start and all that - quite appropriate really, considering what this day has served to represent for many students, environmentalists, smokers, SAD sufferers and lorry drivers. I say with complete and utter confidence; this day will be the first day of the rest of your life. Or failing that, can I take this opportunity to wish everyone a very happy new year?
Today has been important on so many levels in the realm of current events, as newsrooms had a field day with all of these significant happenings. Today, we observed a severe hike in fuel prices, with the price of diesel topping and overtaking the pound mark. No surprise that the Haulers United will soon rise again and convoy back down the M4. Today, the Sustainable Development Commission released their report into the Severn Barrage proposal - a monumental environment 'see-saw saga' which is begging for a swift and definite solution. It is clear that this report will have a massive effect on which way this project is going to proceed, with both the government and pressure groups in locked horns over what to do. Today, the minimum legal age that one can purchase tobacco in Great Britain has become 18 - meaning that all those nicotine-addicted 16 year olds should feel cheated towards what is clearly an unsympathetic ruling, but at the same time, they should feel appreciative at the prospect of avoiding the Big C many years down the line.
Besides those events, there's been a few changes and new beginnings closer to home. Today I started my second work placement in Porthcawl, working for Sustainable Wales. Today, I looked outside my bedroom window and realised that the torrid and harsh rainfall against a darkened morning sky ended any hope of a much needed Indian Summer. Today, after work, I drove home from the seafront with the winter blues slowly coming on, despite the best attempts of Katrina and the Waves on the radio to keep me thinking of sunny Mexico only a few weeks ago. Today, I knew for the first time that summer had finally disappeared and Christmas (or should I say seasonal?) lights will soon be glowing in the hallway.
Today, I just feel different. I think I know why too. Today was also the first taste of university lectures for many newly enrolled students across the nation. Of course, the younger ones had gone back to school a month ago. The date however, isn't important. The point is - whether it is September or October in which the younger generation begin their studies, it's clear that to them the scholastic year is the calendar which just feels the most natural. January to December maybe the default year we all reflect upon and use clearly for establishing one numbered year from the other, but just like the awkward and disjointed football season runs from August to May, it feels right to treat each scholastic year the real one to plan the 'year' by. In September and October, I make plans for the next twelve months if it is possible; I certainly do not plan my year in January - and if I do, it is only the crappy New Year Resolution which I barely maintain until Valentine's Day. Even the tax year runs across two numbered years - from April to March - which is the most important timetabled record you can think of when it comes to earning your bread. So I ask - does anyone actually think of a year, as a year?
Well I don't. Therefore it makes complete sense that I decree this day, October 1st, the very first day of the year. Which means a new start and all that - quite appropriate really, considering what this day has served to represent for many students, environmentalists, smokers, SAD sufferers and lorry drivers. I say with complete and utter confidence; this day will be the first day of the rest of your life. Or failing that, can I take this opportunity to wish everyone a very happy new year?
Petty/Beautiful
I have very little time to blog this evening, in between writing the match reports for the TTFE league team and finding time to sleep. I have however found time to jott down some lines I wrote on the train the other day. The world can sometimes seem so different on a train and I guess thats where this came from. Enjoy.
Petty/Beautiful
Hate drives the hunter
What a film. What an even better trailer. They should do trailers just like this nowadays!
Back home
Its been a while but if you are an avid One Man fan you will know where I've been. For the last two weeks Jenny and I have been in the sunny lands of Mexico, enjoying some much needed holiday time. Although my initial response is the typical British gripe about the scorching heat and the extreme weather conditions, it was great to see the Mayan ruins of both Chichen Itza and Tulum, whilst the all natural Xel Ha waterpark was absolutely breathtaking. The holiday was just so unbelievably different to any I have been on before, considering the long haul flight of 9 hours each way, the crystal blue Caribbean beach water and the interesting Mexican culture. We took 400+ photos, some of which can be seen on Jen's Facebook profile but I will put a few on here to give you a glimpse of what was a wonderful holiday.
With that said, its always good to come back to enjoy the fruits of this nation once again. I know I couldn't live in another country because I would just get homesick way too quickly. But now I'm back - ive been all too quick to moan about the weather and the usual grind at work, and all too quickly Cancun seems ever so tempting once more! One just can't win when it comes the old trip abroad.
One aspect which is even more frustrating however is jetlag. I read that for every time zone you have passed through, you can expect to feel the affects of jet lag for that same number in days. Cancun was six hours behind the UK, so I'm not really too thrilled about the prospect of a screwed up body clock for nearly a week!! All ready I get tired at the wrong times - like at tea time instead of night time and I find it hard to get to sleep at night. Here's hoping some good quality sleep tonight will put this madness to bed (excuse the pun).
Besides the jet lag, the holiday has offered some post-trip benefits. For example, after some time off in a different environment you come home a with renewed focus on things and a mind refreshed. Before leaving for Mexico I felt that I was becoming not only drained physically from working every day, but mentally also. It became hard to think things through rationally, with the day to day rountine becoming seemingly banal and leaving me with little time to reflect on what I want to do next. I guess after a while I felt like I couldn' really blog, because my brain was slowly turning to mush. But now I have taken chicken soul for my mind I am ready for more job applications and rejections over the upcoming festive season.
I would write more but the lag is kicking in now. Nite.
