Rehumanize Yourself

And on the seventh day god updated his facebook status. 'Finished making the world lol, brb resting'. The eptitome of humanity is refreshing a page to see the pointless goings on in people's lives. It irritates me a little when people claim that social media is the future of news, and that we'll no longer need journalists. Of course we get vital information from Twitter. But for every piece of original news, there will be another hundred or so people copying said piece of news. Even worse is when something gets misinterpreted, or news is simply invented. The 'I will not pay to use facebook as of sept 7th 2010' group, for example, has 13,619 members. At first you think that it absurd that so many people can be so gullible/thick. But then you look at the posts friends have made and then you aren't surprised in the least.

Relationship status - I'm being stalked by
three eighties superstars

Out of said stupid posts, there are a few different categories. There's the 'Look at me, I'm doing an essay' group. '50 words down, 2,450 to go lol'/'Arrgh dam this essay is goin to be the death of me lol'. Or even worse if a whole group of people are doing an essay. An endless conversation ensues in the posts about how stuck they are, and how they don't know what to do! Hilarious! Because actually e-mailing a lecturer or looking up more information for the piece would be a waste of time, eh? There's also the endless lovey dovery bullshit people like to publicly display. 'luv u babe xxx'/x is in a relationship with y 'oh so cute x u go great together'. My personal favourite, however, is the meaningless lyrics people put up. 'Am I going insane?/My blood is boiling inside of my veins/An evil feeling attacks/My body’s shaking there’s no turning back/don't take your eyes off the trigger'. The lyricist was probably using it as a metaphor for taking heroin (don't they always?) but yet someone on my friend's list thought that was relevant to their life. When people like a melody to a song, they tend to the take the lyrics a little too close to their heart. I like clever lyrics as much as the next person, but I'd rather you listen to it than tell me. At the end of the day, the lyricist was probably spouting a load of babble that fitted the music. Reminds me of people that interpret 'Every Breath you Take' as a love song when in fact, it's about a stalker. Hoorah.


First newsday tomorrow! Been hyping this up for ages so *gasp* I may actually do a blog post about it afterwards. It's online news tomorrow for our group, and I'm going to be sitting back at the university typing up stories, as some of the others in our group find stuff to report on. We (me and one other person out of 10) have had found a couple of events that are happening tomorrow that we can report on, but we'll be relying on someone getting stabbed on the day or something for some exciting updates. Lunch now, then a final group meeting before tomorrow. Thanks for reading!

The Prisoner

Did anyone see the Oscars? I didn't, so there isn't going to be a post about it. I was happy that the King's Speech won a bunch of awards, and then I thought, why do I care? I've been wanting to see the King's Speech for donks and I like the look of it, but for all I know it could be terrible. Even the BBC had described it as a 'great British win' to make us tea-sippers happy. But why does it actually matter? It's not like everyone in the country helped make the film. It just happened to made mostly by a bunch of people who were born on this bit of land. It's the same with sporting teams, when people say 'Hah, we beat the fuck out of you last night'. Sorry to dissapoint you, but you didn't do anything to me. A couple of Italians, a German, a Russian...whoever (certainly very few actually actually come from the team's area) - they just happened to beat a team I support. IT WASN'T YOU AARGH UNHAPPY.

He's a 'wizard' storyteller!! Sigh. 

On a lighter note, I had a dream last night which I remembered for a change. There's always that delirious moment when you wake up  and you rush to the door, or begin to phone  a friend to tell them Pythagoras' theory before realising that said events didn't actually happen. I haven't remembered my dreams for a while, so this morning I did panic for a second. And what is perhaps even odder is the fact the dream I had last night made a bit of sense. It wasn't a constantly changing LSD fuelled Salvador Dali inspired crazy-fest - y'know, the usual. So I was in prison. And prison didn't seem so bad. I became friendly with the other inmates and the prison guard after giving him a bit of my baguette. Daniel Radcliffe narrated the story - "The guards may have been numerous, but they were fat. We had fitness on our side" The scene changed to one where we were running in the prison grounds to keep our fitness levels up. But then the prison guard wanted us to join in the football game. I thought "Why not?" I put my all into it, and we did well. We promptly turned into anthropomorphic dragons and resumed playing as normal. Okay, it wasn't that sane, but I've had worse. If dreams tell you about what you are thinking, then I'm rather clueless.

Looks like this blog is going to be weekly now, but I will try and make it slightly more frequent. Thanks for reading!

Snobbery, Assault and Battery

I had a 'group meeting' with some of my course mates over a pub meal today, which was quite a nice experience.  It was nice to have a decent meal fairly cheaply and to have a single pint as opposed to 3 litres of cider and a couple of tequila shots. Before the conversation turned to business, some of us had a little moan about one of our course mates. Bitching about someone can be therapeutic, especially when the person in question is a bit of an idiot. But you do have to watch it doesn't get ugly. You can have no opinion on someone. Until they do something particularly annoying or stupid. Either you get over it, or more likely, you hate them for every little thing they do. You didn't clean your dishes? Dickhead. Breathing too loudly? Twat. You like Mumford and Sons? Fucking kill yourself etcetera. And sometimes they deserve it. Other times it just gets a bit silly and there's no real justification.

The shittest mime artist around

And that brings me onto today's topic; snobbery. In days gone by, much of snobbery was based on how the upper classes hated the lower classes. Now it's everywhere. People seem to think they have some incredible power over other people for having a particular belief. Atheists and Religious people alike have this problem. Someone that shoves a bible in your face and rolls their eyes when you suggest that there are religions other than Christianity is equally as annoying as someone that loudly announces that they move the bible to the fiction section in the library. If you close your eyes you can't tell who says 'HOW CAN YOU BELIEVE SOMETHING SO STUPID'. I was almost guilty there of adding my own agnostic snobbery. 'THERE'S NO SOLID PROOF FOR EITHER IDIOTS'. See how easy it is? And of course there's PS3/360 gamers, there's people that do yoga/people that don't do yoga, people that drink/people that don't drink. Thinking about it, I'm being a snob over people that are snobs. I can't win.

I'm in a really Radiohead sort of mood just now. Their new single 'Lotus Flower' is pretty good. I've not got around to listening to the album yet. But what's up with Thom Yorke's dancing in the video? It's pretty awkward to watch. I sometimes wonder how many people have Radiohead as their favourite band. I like them, but they've never really struck me as wonderfully amazing. At least they are still a bit different. And they are another prime example of why music critics can be stupid. People said Kid A was shit. And by the end of the decade, the writers that had said this announced it as album of the decade. You wonder how people that are such hypocrites keep the same job. Oh well, thanks for reading.

Oh, you know I hate Florida!

Despite being very much into the world of sweaty men (and women) with guitars / drum-kits /basses /keyboards /triangles etc, I tend to stay away from publications such as the NME. Like any other magazine, the NME's dilemma is that it has to sell. And to appeal to buyers, it can't exactly just talk about bands whose members are either dead or in zimmer frames (although I suppose magazines like Classic Rock seems to survive through doing this), so it likes to throw a band into the limelight, strap them into a chair, and point at them, telling everybody that they are the next big thing. This has happened to a fair few bands that I like, and it's highly irritating. Because for everyone that hypes the band there are will inevitably be a bunch of people that claim that they are overrated and terrible because of this hype which is a little depressing. I know I've discussed this before, but isn't it sad that people still judge bands on their popularity?

Don't lie, you'd love to be in there

My favourite band for the past three years has been a group called Rocket from the Crypt (The Clash taking second place). They had a fairly large following in the US, providing the definition of 'cult status' for the dictionary. Followers of the band that tattooed the band's insignia onto their body got into gigs for free, and of course there were a select group of people that bought every one of the group's records and tried to attend all of their gigs. In the UK, the band were remembered for their hit 'On a Rope' and little more. To this day I skip that song whenever I listen to the band's albums. It's built around some silly catchy riff that is extremely dull. Even frontman Speedo dismissed the song as a 'piss-stain to the band's legacy'. Every band probably has one of those songs (e.g Blur - Song 2). So why do I like the group so much? Well, they didn't really bring anything new to the table in terms of a new genre. They were slightly unusual, however, in the fact that they were a balls out rock and roll group with a horn section in the middle of the nineties. Were they ska? Were they punk? Critics of course, love to put bands into silly genres, and RFTC could only be put into something so painfully obvious that it really wasn't cool.

Rocket from the Crypt's songs are all incredibly catchy and danceable, and yet they have that hard punk edge without being some overly garish pop punk band. At least in my opinion. I can't get enough of them. So why didn't they become so popular? I could name a number of reasons, such as how Interscope decided to put all their publicity and promotion funding on Marilyn Manson, and how the band were more interested in touring constantly than promoting themselves in interviews. But I suppose the reality is that it's the luck of the draw, y'know? What if 'My Generation' didn't get enough airplay? Would the Who still become megastars able to live off their past for decades to come (*cough* superbowl 2010)? Who knows. Maybe RFTC aren't so great, and maybe I'm just clutching at straws. It's hard to relate to people that don't share your obsession. But I suppose difference of opinion really makes the human race pretty wonderful.

Drunk blog #whatever

p.s - I've been wanting to do a blog on this band for forever, but I saw this and I was inspired. It's nice to know a few other souls share your opinion.

Au McDo

So I've got two days at university a week. I can hardly complain, even if I have to get up at 7 on said days and run four miles. Today we were being told about our upcoming 'newsdays'. We have three of these, and on each day we have to produce three stories. One day is for TV, one day is for online, one day is for the radio. Three days doesn't sound too taxing. But in our groups we  have to find three good stories, interview relevant people, film/record them, edit the stories and generally make them fit to view by the end of the day. I'm not very good with equipment, but I've volunteered for sound on the TV day, which I excelled at last time (I crouch below the camera like a buffoon holding a microphone), a newsreader for the Radio day, and I'll probably be everything on the online day from writing stories to running about getting everybody's sandwiches and tea. I'm really looking forward to it.

At least it wasn't diet Pepsi

However, we weren't doing any of that today. We were more or less getting run downs on good practices and techniques. Nevertheless I decided to reward myself with some food, saying as how I'd got up okay for the past couple of days. Now I think McDonalds is a horrible organisation that serves absolute shit only good for fucking up your body. So I asked for an extra large meal. Upon sitting down to eat, I realised something was wrong. My coke tasted like half of it had been emptied and topped up with urine. Then I remembered I'd ordered diet coke for the sake of my teeth. But it reminded me how stupid people were that were rude to food service folk. Forget Generals and Presidents, food handlers have the most power out of anyone in the world. Being a student, I have many student friends that have worked in such a profession. I've yet to meet one that hasn't spat in somebody's food for one reason or another. But that's nothing compared to a particular passage in Trainspotting, where a waitress is verbally harassed by customers. She proceeds to dip her soaked tampon into the Tomato soup, and mixes her runny excrement in with the chocolate sauce for the Profiteroles. Inventive. But perhaps not particularly appetizing. Don't be an idiot.

Speaking of the food service industry, it reminds me that have to gain employment. I enquired at a few places today. I haven't done that for a while. I'm assuming that the prospect of having no money to buy drink has motivated me. Couldn't let that happen. Thanks for reading!

Pulling Teeth (part dirty dree and a durd)

It's a beautiful thing to watch someone at work who is exceptionally professional about what they do. As ex-Sex Pistol Steve Jones eloquently puts it - "See, when I see people painting, I'm like, howdya paint, howdya do that? That's brilliant. But when I try doing it, I'm terrible". Shrugging his shoulders modestly he ponders "But...I can come up with tunes...or whatever". And a couple of days ago I experienced  that admiration first hand. As my dentist drilled  my teeth with incredible precision, and my head sounded like a scene from Total Recall was being filmed in it, she casually told someone at the door what she wanted for lunch, and that she would like lots of tomato sauce on it. She finished my filling 5 minutes later. But I suppose..I can come up with blogs...or whatever.

Real bloggers only eat porridge anyway

But I often I find many people's attempts at blogs hideously dull to read. Don't get me wrong, for all the people I've followed, I do it for a reason. Even if someone isn't a particularly engaging writer, people can still post interesting stuff in the forms of other media, such as that lifeinformation guy. But on a forum the other day, there was a list of people's blogs. Quite happy for some reading material, I sifted through them. It was mostly people complaining about their sex life. Or something equally humdrum. My friend Ross described the whole thing in a nutshell once; "had soggy cornflakes this morning, omg hate cornflakes now". I mean did we really need to know that? Such escapades may be interesting to you, but they aren't really appealing to the general public. But I'm being a bit of a snob. I suppose the intention is just to say something entertaining for friends. But I mean, isn't that why you have facebook or twitter? It's insanely weird how we can get so dragged into mostly pointless events. And don't shake your head and snort, I can imagine you, the reader of this blog has stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, awaiting such predictable excerpts as 'last nite was so good lol'. If not you are a better person than me.

I should have really called this blog HYPOCRISY saying as how I talk about things like my trip to the dentist. I'm in a silly mood because the ploker that owns a site I write for decided to accidentally erase my profile, meaning all my reviews etcetera were permanently deleted. And then he wanted me to do them again. It's just a small bump in the grand scheme of things, university life isn't bad. As much as I hate Paul McCartney's stupid little grin, him, Mr Lennon, Mr Harrison, and Mr Starr are required for a little pick-me-up. You know I just need a little

HELP

I need somebody!

HELP

Not just anybody!

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP

Sorry about the snobbery today, thanks for reading!

Mr Motivator

I've been on a roll recently. I got some good results from university (including an A on something that I thought was half-arsed), I got up on my first alarm yesterday (a feat I haven't achieved in years), and I've successfully reduced my sugar intake. It's great being motivated, although it can take some strong feelings to make yourself do something. Okay, admittedly I got up on my first alarm because my need to pee was greater than my need to sleep. But there's always that make or break moment. Will I get up even when I'm only going to beaten up by Apollo Creed even more? Will I finish that essay even though I'm tired and I could probably do it another time? Will I resist the temptation to eat that creme egg, the most tasty of the easter offerings?

I WANT YOU to blog more often

I occasionally wonder if such things are your decision, or if it's 'in the genes'. Ringo Starr's son, Zak Starkey, became a drummer, and has become a session drummer for the likes of Oasis, and the Who's live band. All in the blood? Or did he actually knuckle down and practice without any such assistance (Ringo actually persuaded the guy to take up another career with Keith 'the loon' Moon providing the lessons)? But then there's countless other examples of king's sons failing to make the grade throughout history. And sexuality is supposed to be in your DNA the second you are born. I was of that belief for a while. But do you really get gay babies? Ones that after being born think 'UGH I'm not going in that again'? It doesn't seem that way. But then we have plenty of people who completely deny their homosexuality, or ones that hate themselves for it. And there's people that believe that choices and events are fate, or destiny. Sometimes I find myself believing in fate. In the back of my head I think it's a bit stupid. Good people die and wankers survive. Injustices happen. I don't like to say anything for definite. But that's because I'm terrible at making decisions and planning things in advance, and it's why I'm always late.

I can only apologise for the lack of my consistent blogs. I've been writing for a site called BigDistraction, doing some reviews. I volunteered for the position after they said they were looking for writers. I wrote a couple of press releases and a review and they said nothing. And then out of the blue they promoted me to music editor and put me in charge of someone else. I don't know if the reviews are any good, but I'm continuing it anyway. And of course, university has resumed, so I have a few things to do for that. But I won't forget about you lot! So thanks for the patience, and thanks for reading!

Note- It looks like 'thanks for reading' has become my blogging catchphrase. Pretty poor and unoriginal, isn't it?