Tea (or, Being British)

Tea. These are the teas I have in my flat. Somehow, knowing I have all these makes me feel all warm inside. :)

Don't Panic.

Okay Okay, look, before we go any further I’ll just hold my hands and admit that I like science fiction. Probably not as much as some other geeks (we’ve already discussed my geekiness, and I don’t have a penchant for turning up at lovely conventions dressed as a Klingon (though I know what a Klingon is and I have dressed up as a comic book character before…where was I?) but I do love a good old sci-fi novel – like Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot, or a good old sci-fi movie – like Minority Report, or a good old sci-fi TV series – like the X Files.

And in these shows and books and films and radio plays there are items that they have that I would love to see in real life – like the Minority Report glass screen moving swiping thing that one day will be my TV screen I am sure. And, maybe, the memory erasing Men In Black tube type thing, so I can get away with stealing Jelly Babies from friends at the cinema and then convince them that there was, in fact, no Jelly Baby.

One of my all time favourite novels is the venerable Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and it’s resulting 4 sequels that make up the five part trilogy. The main character of the books is not Arthur Dent (for how could such a simple ape-descendant take that title) but the namesake of the book it’s self, the book, the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. If that has confused you then you really need to call me and get a copy of it. So here are the things in the book that I’d love to exist.

Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster

1. Take the juice from one bottle of that Ol' Janx Spirit.
2. Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santraginus V.
3. Allow three cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzene is lost).
4. Allow four litres of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it.
5. Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure of Qalactin Hypermint extract.
6. Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Suntiger.
7. Sprinkle Zamphuor.
8. Add an olive.
9. Drink . . . but . . . very carefully . . .

Tastes like: "Like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick."

Thanks, and real combinations...: Wikibooks!

Flying

In the “love” novel of the series, the fourth and quite lovely So Long and Thanks for All the Fish, Arthur flies over London with his lover Fenchurch. He figures out how to do it in the third novel, Life, the Universe and Everything. The trick is simply to fall at the ground and miss, by either intention of by accident. It is all about tricking gravity into not noticing you are falling and at the exact moment you are to hit the ground completely forget about hitting the hard surface and just missing it completely. The moment you full realise you are flying you will stop - Gravity is like that, y’know? I’d love this to be true (indeed, it still might be) and I try regularly each day to miss the ground, though mostly at weekends after a few… sandwiches, of course.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

The actual item of the books is a genius idea – a massive database of articles about everything in the universe, submitted by users that can be accessed for free anywhere and is regularly updated by… um… users… er. Wait.

Oh.

And using my iPhone I can access it anywhere. Douglas would have loved to see it.

And XKCD noticed that too, albeit with the Amazon Kindle 2.

Being Set In Your Ways.

Tonight BBC are throwing everything of kilter. Tonight sees the start of the second part of the third series of Heroes, which is the fourth volume and instead of keeping it on a Wednesday they have moved it to a Monday. This has annoyed me a little – new Flight of the Conchordscomes out on a Monday, new 24 on Tuesday and Wednesday was Heroes. Now, annoyingly, we have to double up on Heroes with Flight of the Conchords. This is not ideal. At least I think I know why the moved it – The Apprentice, my other TV love, should be starting in a few months, and Heroes probably was in the way of that.

I have decided that my plans being all put of flux is actually quite annoying, but seeing as I am in flux anyway I am embracing the change of scheduling and looking to fill my Wednesday with some good old fashioned male TV action. So now I have replaced Wednesday night’s TV with Gossip Girl.

XOXO.

Flight of the Conchords (You know it's time for business when I'm down to my socks, that's why they are called business socks)


24 (Jack is one mean motherflipper)


Heroes (Steven wants to make naughty with Clare)


Gossip Girl (Chuck Bass wear cool bowties and Nate has his eyes too close)

2 Years – When My Insanity Crashes into Reality

731 Days. My 165th post. This kind of milestone is not one to be sniffed at – I started blogging before I had properly moved out of my Mum and Dad’s house, and more than 2 years since my first ever blog, way back on Bebo (now, lost forever when I deleted my profile, sniff) a lot of stuff has happened. Firstly I did my final year of University, I moved away to Aberdeen, got my self a real life ™ job… I also like to think that over the last 2 and a half years since my first ever post on Bebo my writing has matured, if not got better. I’d be ashamed if it had got worse.

My blog shares it's birthday with Christina Ricci, Josh Brolin, Gethin Jones, and several NFL Footballers, and my Gran.

So here is what I promised to do last year but didn’t; a kind of top five of my favourite posts that I have posted – the ones I enjoyed writing and the ones that I enjoyed reading back, for good reasons or bad.

The Tale of Chemical Engineering (Part I of I)

The first post I ever did on here that was really serious and was a good vocalisation of how I was feeling in that listless moment after finishing University. One of the few posts that I have put on here that makes me read it back as a kind of diary as it captures perfectly my indecision and my thoughts on the way University when for me.

Holiday 2007 Part II: A Fairly Horrible Moment

The funnest post I have ever written and one that makes me laugh to this day, more for the memory of the events actually happening. It is possibly one of the funniest moments of my life.

The Mark and Neds series (Part I, II and III)

This was something that I had been writting back and forth over months before finally posting it and reading it back makes me laugh as I recall the tales. There is two further posts in skeletal form about other times, such as when I used to break into the old garden centre nurseries and saw a ghost.

A Tale of Rock Steady: Unsociable Socialising

The only fictional thing I have ever posted on the blog, even when it was based heavily on stuff that had actually happened in various outings with Rock Steady. This is probably my favourite Rock Steady story that I put here. There are actually two further Rock Steady tales that I could post, both of which might be saved for a rainy day.

My Internet Miscapades

A history of my activities on the internet? This was a kind of a cathartic release of moments back in the past. It should get a special mention for being the most embarassing thing I have ever posted. :)

And a special mention to A New Chapter Dawns (tee hee)

At this point I would like to say that I will, after a couple of weeks of blistering blogging action, be taking a break from here. I have almost exhausted my self on topics. See you in a few weeks I think.

The Present (and messing up some comedy gold).

The thing about the present is that it is already in the past by the time you realise that it is here. That's the thing with memory. If we had no memory, there would be no past of future, there wouldn't even be now, it just would be. I mean, of course, in physics terms time is not what we perceive, but is a dimension like up or forward is, we just have gave it definitions.

A recent piece of advice from a friend was to stop thinking about the past so much and too hard about the future and start thinking about the present. I find that bit of advice quite good until I start to try to do it in practise. I mean, even if I start think a bit ahead of myself, like into the future by 5 seconds, in 5 seconds it will be the present, and then suddenly it is the past, 5 seconds ago. Even Deja Vu is something that is automatically in the past. The thing about the present is that it is already in the past by the time you realise it is here. You see what I mean about Deja Vu?

I had a moment this weekend as I was standing outside of a cash machine where the past and the present were proven to me in no uncertain terms. As I was waiting patiently in a queue that would make my Britishness prouder than The Star Spangled Banner on Inauguration day, several young giggling girls were standing to my left. It was my turn to dispense cash and as I stepped up a woman tapped me on my shoulder, pointed at her friend and said "She had sex last night!".

I replied "Lucky for some!"
I replied "Was it any good?"
I replied "How about tonight?"
I replied "How'd you know, did you watch?"

But I didn't. I couldn't think THAT fast on my feet and in my moment of incredulity. I wish I had a second chance, but the present was too quickly the past and I didn't react fast enough. They call it something in French but I couldn't remember what it was until I asked around, thanks Bamos: L'esprit d'escalier. So now I am thinking about the past so much because I didn't handle the present well enough. Oh well, maybe next time, in the future I'll handle the present so as not to dwell on the past later.

The Space Between All Things.

All the walls of your house,
were painted in deep blue,
you're at that indecisive age to choose colours that reflect you.
And everything and nothing,
is in the space between all things,
that fascinates as much as it agitates.

Words turn me into what I say,
as you pull your yellow stained fingers,
through your un-kept hair,
I noticed that the corners of your jeans,
were folded neatly into squares.
Your thoughts are the strangest place that you've ever been,
stranger even than Los Angeles,
it's like a cinema where they never ask you to leave.

She had a north Atlantic film star grace,
that's why her tears are out of place,
that kind sadness has more style,
so nothing will make her smile,
except as soon as anything happens,
she'll drag me on the street,
and hand in hand we stand protesting,
while everyone is still asleep.

words by Roddy Woomble, performed by Idlewild.

It's the simple things that make us laugh.

From: Here
"

(A couple walk in, the lady in front, the man trailing tiredly behind. The lady spins around the store.)

Me: “Can I help you with anything today?”

Lady: “I need these pants in size 0, pronto.”

Me: “Who are you getting them for?”

Lady: “MYSELF! What do you think!”

(I get her what she wants, she takes them and goes into a change room.)

Lady: “HEY, these are defective! Get me another pair!”

Me: “May I suggest a bigger size?”

Lady: “Are you saying I look fat? That I can’t fit into these pants?! I’ll have you know, I always wear size 0… these pants must be made wrong! Now get me another pair!”

Man: “Honey, those are really small pants, just try a slightly bigger one.”

(Without a pause, she turns around and slaps the man.)

Lady: “Why can’t you just be on my side! That was so rude! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Man: “We don’t live together.”

Lady: “What do you mean! We moved in last week… remember?”

Man: “No… we don’t live together.”

(The lady realizes he’s not caving. She flicks a look at me, then tries a different route.)

Lady: “Well, I mean, you’re still sleeping on the couch in your own apartment! To show remorse for disrespecting me. Or else!”

Man: “Or else what?”

Lady: “Or else I’m dumping your a**!”

Man: “… Okay.”

Lady: “You just–you just like HER, don’t–” *walks out fast, sobbing*

(The man stayed behind and apologized to me. My shift was ending so we went for dinner, and long story short he’s now my fiance! Couldn’t ask for a better man, and I’ve got to thank that lady someday for making it all possible…)"

:)

F**k

Being Glaswegian I can swear. I don’t mean that I can say the words or make the signals, I mean that I can really swear – I can add a rasp to a f**k or a extension of the “i” to s**t in such a way as I am no longer just swearing I am actually swearing. Only a Glaswegian can say c**t and c**t and have I mean different things depending on the way that they are said.

I swear a little to much some times when I am around friends and I have no idea why. When I was growing up I would never be found swearing anywhere near my parents for fear of retribution. I was never allowed to swear when I was a Scout Leader outside of the banter between various other Scouters, even getting a dressing down once for coming close to swearing in front of some youngsters. As a Scouter though, a well placed swear word with the right kind of Scout always helped thing get along.

I only started to really notice that I swear a lot when people start remarking to me that “I swear more because I have hung around with you” which is something that I am not proud of. People do pick up ticks from their friends, feeding off their interactions, such as my recent, and irresponsible, use of “Y’all” and “touchdown” in common parlance – being good friends with two Texans has it’s troubles. I’d hate to think that their lasting impression of a Scotsman is the swearing, not the humour, humility, friendliness or general “och-aye” stuff, but the damage might already be done.

The Mail on Sunday (a common target for this blog it would seem) reported this weekend that they had contacted Asda and Tesco noting that they were stocking books and CDs that have the word “f**k” in the title. These include some bands of mine that I have listened to: “Holy F**k”, “F**ked Up” and “F**k Buttons”, all of which are truly gratuitous uses of the word. But are they offensive? Is the word itself offensive when used without malice? I think that when I use it to describe something as “very f**king good” that people will understand that that is not offensive. Saying “f**k off” to someone is obviously offensive as the word is used in malice. The debate should be about whether or not the word is inherently offensive no matter what context it is used in.

Obviously, though, the fact that anyone can be offended by anything is the whole point of being alive – I am annoyed at censorship for the most part, especially on the internet – China blocking Google and BBC websites annoys me, but the country is allowed to do what they want, and I think that swearing, whilst it is something I have become used to doing and was at peace with, I might have slightly more reservations about it. A quote I read years ago from Linkin Park (those bastions of thought) read “We don’t need to swear in our songs, we can describe our feelings with more emotive lyrics without them” makes sense, and I wonder if cutting out swearing from my diet would make me a better spoken person.

So I am taking some steps to stop this. From today I am going to try and stop swearing. Seriously. This is a serious attempt at curtailing my language. How will I police it? Well, good reader, this is where you come in. If I swear at any point that I am with you then a punch or a pound fine is to be administered. I am sure some reading this might be thinking that this is ridiculous and I will be battered black and blue by the days end, and you’d be right. Pavlovian conditioning and all that shit. Damn.

Railway.

This news story caught my eye for several reasons. First of all, anything where the beauty of Scotland is mentioned is always worth my perusal, and when it is something that Scottish beauty has won against the rest of the world then of course I am going to be interested in reading it.

The story concerns the West Highland Line, the railway line that goes from Glasgow to Mallaig. In the summer of 2007 I had to get the train home from Spean Bridge after being away at a Scout Camp. I was coming home to graduate, so it was slightly important. The easy way was to get the train.

First of all I loved the journey. It hugs hills, sweeps lochs and traverses massive valleys, coming out of tunnels and scraping embankments with such gall that it is a feat of Engineering. Simply put it was the greatest journey I had ever been on. And for a second reason: I paid only £2.30 for the trip. As I got on at Spean Bridge the conductor passed me by ignoring me, and I said nothing. He then ignored me the whole way on the train, which by todays prices would have cost me £23.50.

Not bad for the best 3 hour journey of my life.

Spotify.

I have now been using this incredible program for 4 weeks and have yet to find any real flaws with it. If you know me personally I might have already bent your ear about it, but the reason for this is not that I have any shares in the company or actually any affinity with the developers. It is basically because I have finally found the program that I have been waiting for the internet to make, and the exact one that I can now safely say that I will tell anyone and everyone about.

It is called Spotify and is, as I have said in the past, like having God’s iTunes. At it’s most simple it is a big online catalogue of major label music and smaller label music from hundreds of thousands of artist online. That is not that new to be honest, Last.fm and iTunes them selves have that already. Even eMusic has something similar, but Spotify has a unique selling point. Now there is no need to download the music, you can just stream all the music from the software. It works like you had all that music on your PC, without streaming problems or and poor bitrates. In fact, if you are not paying attention, you’ll be convinced that you have all the music actually on your hard drive.

But that’s the basics, the real deal breaker for me is the playlist creator. You can build a playlist (like, for example, this: :) ) and then send it to everyone who has spotify and they can listen to it. Peachy. A second reason this is cool, is that you can do this: :D and anyone can change the music on the playlist. That is even more peachy. But, then you reaslise you can link directly to any song, like this c:D or any album, like this /:) and they can listen to that. All of the above makes Spotify really excellent.

But where’s the catch? Well, the free version, that I have, has intermittent adverts which can break the flow of, say, a Mars Volta album, but are a small price to pay (in fact, no price at all) for a staggering amount of good, free, legal music. Either that or a tenner a month (less that my 75 track eMusic subscription) means no adverts.

I don’t know if it will work, or if it will make money, but at the moment it is the best thing I have found on the internet in ages. To get it, click here, or email me for an invite. I only have three left at the moment.

Silence and I, A quiet argument.

Do you know what? I haven’t heard silence in over a year. I don’t mean quiet, and I don’t mean solace, I mean pure silence, only punctuated by the world. The city offers no such place – I will always hear a noise, a car, a bus, a part of my flat expanding… but to go somewhere that there is nothing but the world ticking along, getting things done, is my all time favourite thing; simply, no noise.

This can be found easily in Scotland, all you need to do is drive a couple of hours to a car park, then walk a couple of miles into the hills, and then sit. The silence is brilliant, sharp, clean and invigorating. It is cleansing. It is… perfect.

One time, sitting on a hill with my back pack by my side, I was approached by a man with a walking stick. I was approximately 4 miles in either direction from a path so to be found was pretty startling. He waved and said Hello, in a way not unlike a priest would in a hushed tone in a church, speaking softly but loudly enough and with respect. I said Hello back, and he sat beside me.

Don’t you love the silence?
Yeah, I was just thinking that very thing.
I find that this is where I can think. Sometimes it is the only place I know that I can think without an interruption.
I agree with you, I said. I find that sitting here allows me to romanticise the history that these places have seen.
That’s true too, he agreed.

He then got up, looked at me, shook my hand and nodded, and walked off. I have always wondered about that man. I wonder how he happened upon me, how he knew what to say to me and also why I was not wary of a man, a total stranger, appearing to me on the hill and talking to me. The thing is that I understand now why he was able to talk to me – we were in the same place, geographically, mentally and spiritually. We both obviously feel at home in the silence of a hill and that exchange could take place at any time of the day, at any time period of our history. Maybe we had met in previous lives at that same point. Maybe he is me, grown-up, and I will one day be walking that path and see my youthful self. Maybe, just maybe, he was being civilised in a time where I think civility is all but lost.

I am not saying Aberdeen is a busy city, nor is it a loud place, but there is times when I just wish I could grab 5 minutes back on that hill to collect my thoughts. Though I am thinking that maybe we need the noise to understand the silence.

Football / Football II: Superbowl XLIII

Part I.

Hello, my name is Mark Shields and I watched the Superbowl. Yes, I gave in to all my British stubbornness and threw my football caution to the wind and decided to sit down at 11pm and watch the Greatest Show On Earth (TM). The hype was large - a whitewash was expected from the Steelers as the Cardinals were not be counted on, having been the whipping boys of the league for years past.

The stage was set. I had my tea, my chocolate biscuits and my curiosity piqued. I had a keen eye on the rules via Wikipedia, a keen ear on the commentators, one of whom was legend John Madden, a person even I know who is, and for time eternal I sat, waiting for the shine of light that was understanding.

It never came. I just didn't get there. I don't fully understand the game and I went into the game even worse than I thought. I thought I understood how it worked, I thought I knew the basics and I was certain I knew the scoring system, but I'll be damned, I had no clue. It took me until the 2nd quarter to realise how you lost possession (or changed from Offense to Defense).

But boy did I enjoy it. It was most excellent. The game was perfectly poised - the best defense against the second best offense. The two teams were wanting it and going for it, even though the Steelers seemed more in the game in the first half, the Cardinals were oh so nearly infront if it weren't for a simply astonishing 100yard play. If I am to expect that sort of thing each game then strike me down right now.

The game is very different to Football. it is more about placing the plays in the right place, out-playing your opponent using tactics and exploiting a weakness that you have been able to figure out. Each member of the offense team has a job and if that job is not done right the whole play collapses - likewise in defense, if you miss your player or mistime a block you loose him and potentially loose a fair amount of yards.

I realy did enjoy it as a diversion. Football is all about the flow and individual skill, with some perfect passing and good close play. Football on the other hand is about set pieces, well thought out tactics, the ability to lead from one person at the back and poise your plays in a dramatic fashion. Rugby, which I will be watching this weekend, is much a mix of both. The scrum and line-outs being tactically sound, but the forward passing of a team and the line-movement of a flowing game. I'll see what the Americans think of it.

Snow.

Today Britain was hit with the worst snow fall in some areas for 20 years. This means widespread disruption to roads, rail, airlines, schools, offices and shops... basically in Southern England today is a write off. Nobody can get anywhere and everyone is being told to stay indoors unless it is essential for you to travel.

You'd think it was the ice age coming. You'd think that we'd never had snowfall before. You think that we'd be used to it. You'd think that right?

Well, we are. We all are. I can only imagine a small number of people who are actually annoyed at missing work, or missing school from the snow today, but most of all I think that the reason anyone actually cares about it is becuase the media like to brew up a storm... especially when the news was as slow as a month watching the X Factor this weekend. The only thing slightly exciting is the football transfer window shutting, and even then I get looks of shrugs from anyone who I try to engage in converstation with. A big fat "Meh".

So suddenly BRITAIN IS AT A STANDSTILL. Even though there had been severe weather warnings for days in advance. Everyone, chill (literally) out, go and sledge, make a snow man. Go on - if we are to be told and believe them, our country will be a tropic paradise similar to Brazil in a few years time, bloody global warming. Now, where's my hot water bottle.

As an aside, here is a reason why I still have hope for this country.