There's a lot of things they never teach you at school. Or ever.
The FTSE for example.
You hear it every day on the news.
'The FTSE is down', 'The FTSE is up', but what the fuck is it? And what the fuck is the Dow Jones for that matter? AND why do they have such obscure and completely different names?
And also, why is it the FTSE. But it's pronounced "footsie". It's clearly a fucking acronym. It's clearly the "eff-tee-ess-ee".
The only "footsie" I'd ever heard happens when you're sitting at a table and accidentally briefly clash feet with an elderley relative.
"Ooooooooooooooooooh are you playing footsie with me?"
No.
No I wasn't. It's a table and there is limited space beneath it. I wasn't try to solicit mild sexual stimulation with a member of my own family. The suggestion repulses me.
So, the constant reference to it on the BBC and (I presume) other news programmes, I have no basis for understanding the concept.
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Writing.
I used to think there was nothing more painful than reading back some "comedy" writing you did when you were about 11, thinking you were funny.
But I have found something more painful. Disturbingly painful.
It's when you read something you wrote when you were 11, and it's funnier than anything you write now:
"I'm gonna give Michael a piece of my mind!"
"Be careful, you don't have much to spare"
That is a brilliant line. If I came up with that now I'd take the rest of the day off.
But I have found something more painful. Disturbingly painful.
It's when you read something you wrote when you were 11, and it's funnier than anything you write now:
"I'm gonna give Michael a piece of my mind!"
"Be careful, you don't have much to spare"
That is a brilliant line. If I came up with that now I'd take the rest of the day off.
Bored?
I hate the word bored.
Are you bored?
Well go fucking do something then, there is a world of infinite wonder and fascination out there, I honestly don't know how you find the time to be bored. Read a book. There's loads of them. You might learn something.
Learn a language. Listen to an album by a band you'd never heard of before. Bake a cake. Learn about the Zimbabwean political system. Write a poem. Sing in the club style. Cure cancer.
But for God's sake don't be bored.
Being "bored" is such a boring emotional state, not just for you for everyone you bore by telling them you're bored. Saying "I'm bored" infects other people, and makes them think they're bored. And it's self defeating.
The bored are the boring.
Are you bored?
Well go fucking do something then, there is a world of infinite wonder and fascination out there, I honestly don't know how you find the time to be bored. Read a book. There's loads of them. You might learn something.
Learn a language. Listen to an album by a band you'd never heard of before. Bake a cake. Learn about the Zimbabwean political system. Write a poem. Sing in the club style. Cure cancer.
But for God's sake don't be bored.
Being "bored" is such a boring emotional state, not just for you for everyone you bore by telling them you're bored. Saying "I'm bored" infects other people, and makes them think they're bored. And it's self defeating.
The bored are the boring.
Monday, 3 October 2011
Doctor Who, and what I think
Doctor Who's season has just finished. The whole of the last series has been, for me, a highlight in television this year, and a massive improvement on the seasons written by Russell T Davies. I thought that the villains, The Silence were well designed and menacing, and the use of foreshadowing was brilliant.
But it seems there is some debate among Who "fans" as to whether this is correct. And please note I speech-mark fans quite intentionally. Complaints have arisen over the complexity of the narrative, and the fact that the story-arch continued each week, making it difficult for "casual viewers" to hop in and hop out at their leisure.
Doctor Who should be something for everyone to enjoy, they say; a children's show that parents can sit down and watch. But that is where I think they are wrong. See, maybe in its original incarnation Doctor Who was a children's show that adults could derive some pleasure out of, but now those children have grown up and still love Doctor Who, and there is a whole generation of young adults who like Who too. These days Doctor Who is an adult show which children can derive some interest in.
And as for the concept of hopping in and hopping out of the series on a whim:
they might say: "I like to be able to sit down and just enjoy a one off episode for what it is. I don't want the complexity of a story arch which I don't understand".
But this is just lunacy.
You don't pick up a book and read the 4th, 7th and 9th chapter, and then expect the final chapter to make sense. Why would you expect it from Doctor Who? And more to the point why did you just read the 4th, 6th and 9th chapters in the first fucking place. It's not actually that hard to sit down and watch the fucking TV.
Perhaps you'd prefer a return to the past? Perhaps you'd like to be able to simply sit down on the occasional Saturday night and enjoy 45 minutes of excellent, self-contained entertainment. Well, you cant. It would be impossible for even an exceptionally talented writer to pull off, unless you were also looking for Teletubby-like simplicity in the plots and character development. In fact you probably are looking for that level of simplicity, so undoubtedly our argument can only end here.
But it seems there is some debate among Who "fans" as to whether this is correct. And please note I speech-mark fans quite intentionally. Complaints have arisen over the complexity of the narrative, and the fact that the story-arch continued each week, making it difficult for "casual viewers" to hop in and hop out at their leisure.
Doctor Who should be something for everyone to enjoy, they say; a children's show that parents can sit down and watch. But that is where I think they are wrong. See, maybe in its original incarnation Doctor Who was a children's show that adults could derive some pleasure out of, but now those children have grown up and still love Doctor Who, and there is a whole generation of young adults who like Who too. These days Doctor Who is an adult show which children can derive some interest in.
And as for the concept of hopping in and hopping out of the series on a whim:
they might say: "I like to be able to sit down and just enjoy a one off episode for what it is. I don't want the complexity of a story arch which I don't understand".
But this is just lunacy.
You don't pick up a book and read the 4th, 7th and 9th chapter, and then expect the final chapter to make sense. Why would you expect it from Doctor Who? And more to the point why did you just read the 4th, 6th and 9th chapters in the first fucking place. It's not actually that hard to sit down and watch the fucking TV.
Perhaps you'd prefer a return to the past? Perhaps you'd like to be able to simply sit down on the occasional Saturday night and enjoy 45 minutes of excellent, self-contained entertainment. Well, you cant. It would be impossible for even an exceptionally talented writer to pull off, unless you were also looking for Teletubby-like simplicity in the plots and character development. In fact you probably are looking for that level of simplicity, so undoubtedly our argument can only end here.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Why I don't have a girlfriend
OK, so I haven't had a girlfriend for three years.
There is primarily one very good reason for that, which, confusingly, I'm not going to discuss. Instead I'm going to skirt around the edges, clawing at a number of equally valid, but less consequentially important reasons. Anyone who really knows me will already know anyway. And to be honest, it would be boring describing it, for you. And me. And probably emotionally destructive for me. And you.
I mean, this whole post will be dull anyway, because it's just going to be about me, and the dull things I think about my dull life. There will be no cutting insight into the human consciousness, no probing truisms and no material you will ever be able to plunder and use in a Michael McIntyre-esque observational comedy routine.
Good luck.
OK, so we start again: I haven't had a girlfriend for three years. My last relationship, and only ever proper relationship, was fairly long term, but was destined, we both agree, to failure. In fact people occasionally site this ex-girlfriend as a reason why I might not have moved on.
I can categorically state now that I moved on immediately as the relationship ended. I just got stuck elsewhere.
I think fundamentally I don't really need a relationship. I'm OK on my own. I don't really get lonely. I occupy my own time pretty well. And I have good friends. So I've never really pushed myself really hard to try to get a girlfriend. There have been opportunities, certainly, some which I wish had gone somewhere, others which I am glad I never followed through. But for the moment I'm doing alright alone.
But surely there is more to it than just "I can get by without a girlfriend". The reasons run deeper.
First of all, I'm not really too well versed on the mechanics of acquiring a girlfriend (you would probably be able to work that out by simply reading that sentence). Your options appear to be limited fairly strictly:
1) Go out to a club. Pull a girl. Exchange phone numbers. Stay in contact through a series of flirty and then eventually explicit text messages. Have sex. Play mini-golf. Have a meal out somewhere. Job done. Easy.
Of course, it isn't easy. Let's just say I'm pretty much lethally allergic to embarrassment, and "going into a club and pulling a girl" is tantamount to an embarrassment minefield, complete with rejection barb wire and volleys of humilation machine gun fire raining down upon you.
Even on a good day, a confident day, I would struggle to approach a stranger and engage them in a pleasant way. Let alone to the point at which I would supplicate extreme proximity to their person, and introduce the concept of sloppily pressing my mouth against their erogenous zones.
But it's not only the potential embarrassment of failure; it's also the suffocatingly low chances of success. When I walk into a club, I am consistently made aware, that in the terms of the room I am unlikely to be considered attractive. I'm not trying to put a downer on myself, but it just stands to reason that clubs generally attract the youthful and sociable, and both traits are talismans (talismen?) for attractiveness.
So realistically I'm unlikely to be in the top 50% of attractive men at any given club. Probably lower still. I don't blame them. If I was a woman I wouldn't find me attractive either. There are always going to be better options, physically at least.
Now, that doesn't need to matter, because attractiveness isn't everything, and I have occasional confidence in my own personality to win people over. Unfortunately clubs don't really facilitate imposing your personality on someone. You effectively have one method at your disposal to show the people around you what kind of guy you are: dancing. You could try shouting into people's ears, but it isn't much good. I tend to play dancing for laughs, with elaborate and eccentrics moves not befitting my personal appearance and level of skill. It has been found amusing occasionally (I worry sometimes that people only find it funny to save me the embarrassment, of me dancing stupidly and people not finding it funny). But dancing is not a high point for me. To get with someone you need to have an air of mystery, so I guess I'm going the wrong way about it.
No. Clubs just don't work for me.
2) So, clubs are a no-no. Girlfriend option number 2: a friend of a friend. I've lost count of the number of times that relationships I have asked the origins of, have arisen from mutual friends.
See with mutual friends you get the best of both worlds. You get the mystery of someone you don't know, without the fear that they are an utter wanker, seeking out only the spoils of your soft genitals.
Unfortunately the problem now is that my friendship group is small and close-knit. The larger friendship group I previously owned has been largely fragmented, predominantly due to relationships and the fact that we spent our latter teen years getting with each other every week.
Perhaps there is potential around. But it hasn't happened yet.
3) As an offshoot to option 2. Perhaps I should mention friends.
Even if we disregard the complexities of getting with friends, my friends already have the advantage of knowing what a miserable twat I am. Beneath a mildly affable and friendly surface, my identity is a junkyard of grammar pedantry, soul-crushingly ruthless self hatred and misplaced relevance to lyrics by Brand New. They know the kind of person I am.
So as beautiful and wonderful as all my friends are, they are all not options.
4) So, what about work then? So what if I told you I work in a department, that, from Monday, will be exclusively female + me. How does a charming [sic], handsome [sic] man such as myself not possibly acquire a girlfriend?
Well, fortunately from them, they are all either in relationships or contravene point number 3.
5) Hobbies, then. Surely I have some hobbies which cold facilitate female interaction, and then consequently vigorous sexual dynamism.
I play basketball, predominantly with men, it must be said, but women do come along occasionally. I don't really think that sport is the way to romance, however, but I've been wrong before.
I like reading, which traditionally is enjoyed best as a lone activity.
I play in a band, which suggests the notion of groupies. But in reality sustains only mild enthusiasm from close friends and family members.
So there we have it. I have exhausted all the options for getting a girlfriend and have failed. There is no longer the need to ask me why I don't have one.
There is primarily one very good reason for that, which, confusingly, I'm not going to discuss. Instead I'm going to skirt around the edges, clawing at a number of equally valid, but less consequentially important reasons. Anyone who really knows me will already know anyway. And to be honest, it would be boring describing it, for you. And me. And probably emotionally destructive for me. And you.
I mean, this whole post will be dull anyway, because it's just going to be about me, and the dull things I think about my dull life. There will be no cutting insight into the human consciousness, no probing truisms and no material you will ever be able to plunder and use in a Michael McIntyre-esque observational comedy routine.
Good luck.
OK, so we start again: I haven't had a girlfriend for three years. My last relationship, and only ever proper relationship, was fairly long term, but was destined, we both agree, to failure. In fact people occasionally site this ex-girlfriend as a reason why I might not have moved on.
I can categorically state now that I moved on immediately as the relationship ended. I just got stuck elsewhere.
I think fundamentally I don't really need a relationship. I'm OK on my own. I don't really get lonely. I occupy my own time pretty well. And I have good friends. So I've never really pushed myself really hard to try to get a girlfriend. There have been opportunities, certainly, some which I wish had gone somewhere, others which I am glad I never followed through. But for the moment I'm doing alright alone.
But surely there is more to it than just "I can get by without a girlfriend". The reasons run deeper.
First of all, I'm not really too well versed on the mechanics of acquiring a girlfriend (you would probably be able to work that out by simply reading that sentence). Your options appear to be limited fairly strictly:
1) Go out to a club. Pull a girl. Exchange phone numbers. Stay in contact through a series of flirty and then eventually explicit text messages. Have sex. Play mini-golf. Have a meal out somewhere. Job done. Easy.
Of course, it isn't easy. Let's just say I'm pretty much lethally allergic to embarrassment, and "going into a club and pulling a girl" is tantamount to an embarrassment minefield, complete with rejection barb wire and volleys of humilation machine gun fire raining down upon you.
Even on a good day, a confident day, I would struggle to approach a stranger and engage them in a pleasant way. Let alone to the point at which I would supplicate extreme proximity to their person, and introduce the concept of sloppily pressing my mouth against their erogenous zones.
But it's not only the potential embarrassment of failure; it's also the suffocatingly low chances of success. When I walk into a club, I am consistently made aware, that in the terms of the room I am unlikely to be considered attractive. I'm not trying to put a downer on myself, but it just stands to reason that clubs generally attract the youthful and sociable, and both traits are talismans (talismen?) for attractiveness.
So realistically I'm unlikely to be in the top 50% of attractive men at any given club. Probably lower still. I don't blame them. If I was a woman I wouldn't find me attractive either. There are always going to be better options, physically at least.
Now, that doesn't need to matter, because attractiveness isn't everything, and I have occasional confidence in my own personality to win people over. Unfortunately clubs don't really facilitate imposing your personality on someone. You effectively have one method at your disposal to show the people around you what kind of guy you are: dancing. You could try shouting into people's ears, but it isn't much good. I tend to play dancing for laughs, with elaborate and eccentrics moves not befitting my personal appearance and level of skill. It has been found amusing occasionally (I worry sometimes that people only find it funny to save me the embarrassment, of me dancing stupidly and people not finding it funny). But dancing is not a high point for me. To get with someone you need to have an air of mystery, so I guess I'm going the wrong way about it.
No. Clubs just don't work for me.
2) So, clubs are a no-no. Girlfriend option number 2: a friend of a friend. I've lost count of the number of times that relationships I have asked the origins of, have arisen from mutual friends.
See with mutual friends you get the best of both worlds. You get the mystery of someone you don't know, without the fear that they are an utter wanker, seeking out only the spoils of your soft genitals.
Unfortunately the problem now is that my friendship group is small and close-knit. The larger friendship group I previously owned has been largely fragmented, predominantly due to relationships and the fact that we spent our latter teen years getting with each other every week.
Perhaps there is potential around. But it hasn't happened yet.
3) As an offshoot to option 2. Perhaps I should mention friends.
Even if we disregard the complexities of getting with friends, my friends already have the advantage of knowing what a miserable twat I am. Beneath a mildly affable and friendly surface, my identity is a junkyard of grammar pedantry, soul-crushingly ruthless self hatred and misplaced relevance to lyrics by Brand New. They know the kind of person I am.
So as beautiful and wonderful as all my friends are, they are all not options.
4) So, what about work then? So what if I told you I work in a department, that, from Monday, will be exclusively female + me. How does a charming [sic], handsome [sic] man such as myself not possibly acquire a girlfriend?
Well, fortunately from them, they are all either in relationships or contravene point number 3.
5) Hobbies, then. Surely I have some hobbies which cold facilitate female interaction, and then consequently vigorous sexual dynamism.
I play basketball, predominantly with men, it must be said, but women do come along occasionally. I don't really think that sport is the way to romance, however, but I've been wrong before.
I like reading, which traditionally is enjoyed best as a lone activity.
I play in a band, which suggests the notion of groupies. But in reality sustains only mild enthusiasm from close friends and family members.
So there we have it. I have exhausted all the options for getting a girlfriend and have failed. There is no longer the need to ask me why I don't have one.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Reading 2011
OK. New blog.
No silly promises about more regular posts. No self-indulgent facetiousness. No epiphonomenal embroglios. Just things I think about.
I just got back from Reading Festival.
At the time I didn't particularly enjoy standing around for 12 hours a day with my feet hurting and my lower intestine engorging. I didn't particularly enjoy sleeping on an airbed with no pillow. I didn't particularly enjoy the over-priced Tuborg beer. And I certainly didn't enjoy the state of those fucking festival toilets.
But on the whole, the weekend was a marvelous success.
I was highly impressed by Elbow and Deftones, and to a lesser extent The National and Panic at the Disco.
And of course there were a number of bands who were brilliant, but I was expecting them to be brilliant anyway (Jimmy Eat World, Frank Turner, Muse, Taking Back Sunday, 30 Seconds to Mars, Rival Schools).
Muse completely stole the show. I feel sorry for the Leeds Festival people, who got Muse on the Friday, and then only had Pulp/The Stokes to look forward to on the Sunday. We got Muse as the last band of the festival, and it was a seriously amazing headline performance. True headliners. Song after classic song performed exceptionally, to an elaborate and mesmerising backdrop.
We camped with some nice people. We had some campfires. We made some modern art.
But I doubt I'll go back to Reading. I went for the lineup, and only an improved one would make me go again.
No silly promises about more regular posts. No self-indulgent facetiousness. No epiphonomenal embroglios. Just things I think about.
I just got back from Reading Festival.
At the time I didn't particularly enjoy standing around for 12 hours a day with my feet hurting and my lower intestine engorging. I didn't particularly enjoy sleeping on an airbed with no pillow. I didn't particularly enjoy the over-priced Tuborg beer. And I certainly didn't enjoy the state of those fucking festival toilets.
But on the whole, the weekend was a marvelous success.
I was highly impressed by Elbow and Deftones, and to a lesser extent The National and Panic at the Disco.
And of course there were a number of bands who were brilliant, but I was expecting them to be brilliant anyway (Jimmy Eat World, Frank Turner, Muse, Taking Back Sunday, 30 Seconds to Mars, Rival Schools).
Muse completely stole the show. I feel sorry for the Leeds Festival people, who got Muse on the Friday, and then only had Pulp/The Stokes to look forward to on the Sunday. We got Muse as the last band of the festival, and it was a seriously amazing headline performance. True headliners. Song after classic song performed exceptionally, to an elaborate and mesmerising backdrop.
We camped with some nice people. We had some campfires. We made some modern art.
But I doubt I'll go back to Reading. I went for the lineup, and only an improved one would make me go again.
Sunday, 29 May 2011
End Of: The basic story of Tim Loughton MP
So, I haven't blogged for ages. I know. Been busy, haven't I?
But anyway, I'm back now so you can stop crying.
Following Plashing Vole's lead, I have decided to keep a close eye on my Tory MP Tim Loughton to see what kind of a guy he is. And to see if an MP who has been voted in with an increasing majority since 1997 is actually doing a good job for us.
So, let's start off with something very basic. Here's TheyWorkForYou.com's analysis of Tim Lougthon's voting record. Now, bear in mind that it is taken out of context, and obviously you shouldn't judge people on little setences that don't tell the whole story. But at the very least it gives us a basic idea of what Tory Tim is really about. The little numbers alongside the embolded statements reprents a key to which, if you look below, you will find a number my observations.
Voted very strongly against allowing ministers to intervene in inquests
Voted very strongly for greater autonomy for schools.
Voted strongly against more EU integration. (4)
Voted strongly against introducing foundation hospitals.
Voted moderately against a smoking ban.
Voted very strongly against removing hereditary peers from the House of Lords.
Voted a mixture of for and against a wholly elected House of Lords.
Voted moderately against Labour's anti-terrorism laws.
Voted moderately for a stricter asylum system. (4)
Voted very strongly for the Iraq war. (1) (2)
Voted strongly for an investigation into the Iraq war. (2)
Voted moderately for laws to stop climate change.
Has never voted on a transparent Parliament.
Voted moderately against the hunting ban.
Voted very strongly for replacing Trident. (1)
Voted moderately against equal gay rights. (3)
Voted strongly against introducing ID cards.
1) So, he's a war monger.
2) He voted VERY STRONGLY for the Iraq War. And then when public opinion changed, suddenly he was all for an investigation into Labour.
3) He voted AGAINST equal gay rights. AGAINST! (I am aware that there are probably still a majority of people in the UK from whom voting against equal gay rights seems the sensible and natural thing to do. Sad.)
4) Doesn't like those bloody immigrants. You know, coming over here, working hard, propping up our national health service, etc.
But anyway, I'm back now so you can stop crying.
Following Plashing Vole's lead, I have decided to keep a close eye on my Tory MP Tim Loughton to see what kind of a guy he is. And to see if an MP who has been voted in with an increasing majority since 1997 is actually doing a good job for us.
So, let's start off with something very basic. Here's TheyWorkForYou.com's analysis of Tim Lougthon's voting record. Now, bear in mind that it is taken out of context, and obviously you shouldn't judge people on little setences that don't tell the whole story. But at the very least it gives us a basic idea of what Tory Tim is really about. The little numbers alongside the embolded statements reprents a key to which, if you look below, you will find a number my observations.
1) So, he's a war monger.
2) He voted VERY STRONGLY for the Iraq War. And then when public opinion changed, suddenly he was all for an investigation into Labour.
3) He voted AGAINST equal gay rights. AGAINST! (I am aware that there are probably still a majority of people in the UK from whom voting against equal gay rights seems the sensible and natural thing to do. Sad.)
4) Doesn't like those bloody immigrants. You know, coming over here, working hard, propping up our national health service, etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)