Saturday 28 February 2009

E2M3

I don't really know where to go from here.
I've been lucky in a lot of ways. I've always known where I am and where I need to be next. Either the next year of school, college, university, getting a job, whatever, life has been a series of clear goals, nicely laid out.
But now I'm here, I've done everything I wanted to when I was a kid and I've just realised that, really, I've largely done everything I intended to by this point. I've got a car, the social life's sorted out, I lost a bunch of weight, got a job, have a bunch of little adventures planned, so... now what?
Is that it? Game over? But no, that's not right somehow. Life, to me, has what I always thought of as chapters. You're born, you spend most of the first few years learning to walk and talk and such. Then someone plunges you into school and you have to start interacting with strangers, all your life goals change and suddenly the old rules don't quite apply in the same way. It's funny how your entire life can suddenly change in 5 minutes, but still be so very familiar.

There are a lot of different opinions on the afterlife. Most seem to think it's a place where you go and just stop caring about things. I always personally wanted it to be like a holodeck, this big open area where you got whatever you wanted. But part of me hopes that when I die, I'll see the end credits. That my theme tune will play, I'll see the people responsible for making this little adventure, I'll see all the important people involved and then I'll maybe get my score. Someone will stand there at a podium and bring up a screen showing all the things I was meant to have completed, all the little bonus objectives, then I'll get a score or a grade or something. Maybe some xbox live achievements. Perhaps there'll be a new game+ option. Maybe I'll finally get to see the great celestial punchline, because I really do hope that someone, somewhere is finding this whole life business to be amusing.
As I sit here, for the first time with no idea what the future holds, I'm feeling more content than I ever have. Maybe I thrive on a vague sense of confusion. Maybe too many goals are a bad thing and we should just, occasionally, improvise our way through life. It's nice to sit back sometimes and not worry that you're not acheiving much, but you're not failing to acheive anything, either.
I will say one thing about life and goals, though. I've probably learned more (and most of it's had IMMENSE practical value) by going out of an evening than I have in university. It's funny how you can spend 4 years in an educational institution, spend your days researching and wind up being so very naive. But then, I suppose I'm just naturally easy going and gullible like that.
At least, that's what folk tell me.

Man, I'm turning into an old fart. Next blog, I'm just going to talk about booze, cartoons and girls. Lower the tone a bit, even out the average some.


Some day, I will build a time machine. It will be large and shiny and silver and look a little like a dodgem car. I will buy a shiny silver suit and I will visit the past. Approximately 7 months in the past from this date. I will find myself sitting and writing my first entry to this site and thinking "Hey, alliterative blog tags, there's a fun idea!".
I will punch myself over and over until I'm incapable of PRONOUNCING the word "tags". Although I suppose I was stronger back then, so I might just end up having my ass kicked by myself, which would be embarassing.

Thursday 19 February 2009

Now with bonus content!

So if you know what the Witchrule newsletter is and have access to one, you might notice that the first thing featured on the front page mentions Mesmo and Liberty Lad.
You may also notice that this story does not, in fact, feature in the publication.

It will instead feature on my blog, because I quite liked how it turned out and damn it, someone is going to read this thing. Prepare yourself for another terrible voyage into my poor attempts at fiction!
-
The battles between Liberty Lad and his arch nemesis Mesmo were well known to all the citizens of the free world. Wherever Mesmo would try to commit some heinous act of supervilliany, dashing, dependable double L would be right behind him, shining teeth and immaculate hair. Mesmo would always get away, of course. He'd always be one step ahead, have one last cunning trick that let him escape. Maybe he'd reveal a girl tied to a bomb, maybe he'd have a cunningly hidden escape capsule, but there was always some little twist that kept the eternal chase going. And if he ever was caught, you always got the impression that he'd planned it that way all the time to lull people into a false sense of security, to build some delicious suspense. Mesmo was a showman at heart.
The people loved it. They ate it up. Liberty Lad merchanise flew off the shelves faster than it could be produced and it made for fantastic television.
But here was where it ended. In a dark alley, just around the back of the business district of Neomegatropolis, largest and most economically significant of the world's supercities. Mesmo had been plotting some scheme or other to deploy his prototype mind control emitter on one of the larger skyscrapers but a freak storm had knocked out the power to half the city. Beaten before he'd had a chance to begin, Mesmo fled, knowing too well that the spandex clad people's hero would be right behind him. He never expected Liberty Lad to be waiting at the bottom of the fire escape. A brief but desperate chase ensued, but one was a trained athlete and the other a man of science and late night scheming.
Thunder rumbled ominously as a steady rain fell upon the pair. A proud figure soaked to the skin but still retaining an air of dignity and confidence stood over his weak, gaunt foe, laid shivering on his back, rain streaming from his cape and drumming off of his steel skullcap.
"So this is how it ends, old friend. I'd hoped we could fight on more honourable terms, but if defeating you once and for all means ending your reign of terror in the gutter, so be it." said Liberty Lad, his powerful voice echoing down the alley.
"In the gutter, Liberty? You're going to kill me like a dog in... wait... seriously, you're going to KILL me?"
Liberty Lad frowned and looked to the sky thoughtfully for a moment.
"I must do what I can to ensure the safety of humankind. If that means removing one bad apple from the barrel, then unfortunately I have no choice, much as it pains me to do so."
"But couldn't you just hand me over to the authorities?"
Liberty Lad's stern expression, his square jaw and steely gaze were replaced with a look of irritation.
"Look, Mesmo, I would. I've tried, God knows I've tried, but have you seen what happens to the places that imprison you? You remember the giant robots, right? And the plutonium mole tank? And the Cardiff incident? People won't even talk about that one, y'know. If I could find a place that'd be willing to hold you then I wouldn't do this, you know I wouldn't, but they won't."
He reached for his utility belt and pulled out a pistol, styled to look like a weapon from an 80s sci-fi show. It even had a lightning bolt on the side.
"So that's it? 15 years of running through underground complexes, over mountains, beneath oceans and you're just going to break out the Liberty Laser? You're better than that." said mesmo. People who didn't know of his great (yet terrible) deeds might have thought a note of panic was present in his voice.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."
Mesmo looked at him with a sneer.
"Do you know what happens to superheroes that completely defeat the bad guy?"
Liberty retaliated with a look of vague confusion.
"Nnnoooo..."
"No. You don't. That's because nobody does. That's because it doesn't happen. Have you stopped to think about what'd happen if I were to ever be completely vanquished?"
Liberty drew himself up to his full height, his features again conveying a sense of absolute confidence and pride.
"The people would rejoice! There would be a national holiday with parades and balloons and-"
"You always were simple. Yes, the people would celebrate, but then what? How much work is there for a superhero who has nobody to fight?"
"There... there's always going to be another villain..."
"No. It's impractical, it's expensive and it's thankless work, Liberty. You ever try buying nerve gas on the black market? It's a flaming king's ransom. And don't even get me started on trying to buy insurance when your job title is "megalomaniac". Just don't."
"So I'd be out of work?"
"Yeah, you would. And you're not trained to do ANYTHING, are you? Just to sit there, look pretty and punch me in the head whenever we meet."
Liberty sat down heavily in the rain, his face stricken with panic. Mesmo saw his opening.
"And then what happens? Nobody tries to steal the giant diamond when I'm gone. Nobody threatens the megacorporations with death rays if I die. No. All the companies, the law enforcement agencies, the people, they all grow overconfident and cocky. They leave themselves open. Petty crime goes on the rise, eventually leading to organised crime, political and social corruption. And you know who they'll blame, right?"
"Oh God..."
"They'll blame Liberty Lad. They'll blame the guy who's sat in his apartment eating Doritos and watching TV all day because superheroes can't handle regular crimes. Because when you use super strength to punch a regular criminal, he stays down and he stays dead. They'll turn on you, Liberty. You can't fight them all. You can't fight any of them."
The broken, beaten, spandex-clad crusader began sobbing.
"It's true! It's so true, I'm worthless! There's got to be another way, I can't live like that!"
"But there is. And it's one you're good at, too."
Mesmo paused for effect.
"You could let me go."
"... what?"
"Let me go. Let me live to fight another day. Let me shake up those dullards, darken their days with a nefarious sceheme by me, brighten up their mundane little lives with a display of mindless heroism from you. It's a parasitic relationship, sure, but it'll keep us aboard the gravy train for the rest of our lives."
Exhausted from the effort and mildly afraid of the laser pistol still pointed at his head, Mesmo's head dropped back against the concrete slab he was sat on. He felt his counsciousness slip away as the cold, pounding rain beat down on him.
Some time later, he awoke in a bed with nurses surrounding him. He discovered that he'd been admitted to the most reputable medical facility in the city and that the bill was to be covered by Neomegatropolis' law enforcement orgnisation.

From then on, the fights between the pair became ever more spectacular, but unknown to the public, they hardly ever actually hurt each other. Parades and awards ceremonies were held, but any rewards got converted to mysterious blank checks, sent to remote locations, often within the operating territory of known arms dealers. The circle of life carried on.
After all, Liberty Lad may not have been the sharpest pencil in the box, but he knew a free lunch when he saw it.

Fear and loathing in Cas Vegas

I don't understand fear. Alright, I don't understand people much either, but fear, fear is really messed up.
People will say there's two reactions to any situation that you're scared of, fight or flight. The desire to run away like a chipmunk or to suddenly become The Fury. I don't agree with this. Let's take an example here:
You're on a road. A car is approaching that you didn't see and you don't have any time to think, you need to react NOW. What do you do?



Right, the correct answer is stand dithering in the road trying to think because there's a bloody great car trundling towards you and you're not equipped to cope with that.
Fear is like one of the most primal feelings we have. It's what keeps us from killing ourselves in particularly stupid ways. Um... it's what keeps MOST of us from doing that. It's just strange that we still need such a very base reaction in order to properly keep ourselves in check. We don't have any natural predators aside from other humans, we don't need to be afraid of spiders and snakes unless we live in places that are too hot to reasonably support human life anyway, so... why is fear still around, then?
What's worse, we have signs and safety standards, rules and suggestions to minimise the amount of times we have to have a brown trousers experience, so why do we inflict NEW ones on ourselves? Work deadlines, horror movies, social anxiety, crime, warnings of epidemics and financial collapse, it's all mad. All these different problems that you just CAN'T run from and that offer no target for a fight, either.
I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that humanity was never intended to live in modern society. Life was never intended to. We do all these strange things that conflict directly with our own personal needs and desires and we think we're doing a good job. You've seen dolphins, right? Bunch of really happy looking little blighters. Now consider how many times a dolphin has decided to form a team to discuss the pod's change management strategy in this financial quarter.
I'd like to see the next 200 years or so. See if we ever do manage to automate everything that doesn't require any form of creative thinking or innovation. It'd be nice to think that some day, not too far from now, the only jobs that people will do will be playing music and writing screenplays.
And they'll only do it for a hobby. If you like playing the flute, you can play it for the sheer pleasure of the thing and for making people happy. That's why I need to conquer the world, really. I do know what's best for us, in the long run.
Well, what's best for me. And maybe the people I care about, I suppose. Really, that's all that matters. The rest of all y'all may well be converted into fuel or cyborgs, it depends on how I feel. I guess what I'm saying is that it might be best to start sucking up now, before I'm too drunk with absolute power to notice.

Monday 9 February 2009

Beyonce

Right, I think this post brings us nicely up to date. Normal service will hopefully resume from.... next week. I'm thinking of moving this to Wednesday thanks to the change of gaming night to Tuesdays.

I think it might be time to explain something. You may well know that my great and wondrous plan for conquering the world contains a key element. That of destroying Beyonce Knowles and any evidence of her existence. I have a number of reasons for this. Strap yourselves in, because this is going to be somewhat ranty.

To start with, I'm not sure the woman has any concept of rhythm. She gets it right at the start of most of her songs, even keeps it going sometimes, but in songs like Survivor she kinda drifts off by half a beat. It drive me NUTS. Especially since that song was featured as the final bonus track of Elite Beat Agents, covered by someone with as warped a sense of timing as the real deal.
Second, she embodies everything I dislike about R+B. Nearly every song I've heard her sing has been pretty much about some man who's done wrong by her and how, because she's a strong and independant woman, she'll make it through. That's fine, it really is, but lordy woman, you don't have to tell me that 5 times. You'll be fine alone, I get it, maybe you should stop dating guys because apparently it's not going very well. Maybe it's nature's way of telling you to consider being bisexual, I don't know.
And anyway, talking about how your old man isn't all that special and how you could find another guy exactly like him before the day is out makes it seem less like you're an irresistible bombshell and more like you have terribly low standards and will sleep with anything with a pulse. Which is what I thought you were whining about...
Third, that one song, "If I were a boy". I'm sorry, but I just find it offensive. There's apparently 2 things that really rile me, being condescended and gender discimination. Hell, be racist against me, I wouldn't care THAT much, but for her to yodel her way through 3 minutes of that song, 3 minutes of me being told that I shouldn't have any emotions, any remorse for my actions and any sense of social responsibility just because my reproductive plumbing follows a different set of blueprints... no, y'know what, you don't get to do that. I know a lot of blokes conform to the male stereotype, I've seen it happen, but that doesn't mean you can come out and personally insult half the population. There's some genuinely decent men out there, lots of them. Anyway, I know I'm dense at times, maybe a bit unintentionally callous but women can be as bad. People can be as bad. That's kinda my point.
I think that once I've secured enough money to construct the omega device, my next task may be to launch Beyonce directly into the heart of the sun. Inside a rocket made of rusty nails and broken glass. Also, the glass came from jars of salted lemon juice and hasn't been washed.
Also, the nails are on fire.

Fire is integral to this plan.

Vision

Does everyone see things the same way? It's something that's bugged me for quite some time now. Like, does what I perceive as red look the same to someone else?
Everyone's got different ideas and standards about beauty. I like industrial environments, low lighting and open, airy kinds of places but I know that those don't appeal to everyone. Oceans and mountains and factories and such. Maybe it's just rocks, I really don't know. Point is, you can raise two people in the same area, give them the same upbringing and all but they'll have different ideas of what looks good.
But why?
I mean, we have fairly similar views on what is really BAD to look at. Untidy things, violent things, anything that upsets us, they trigger a similar emotional reaction for everyone, but things that are nice to look at, some people like them, some are indifferent. Even in people. You get folks that are attracted to people like Angelina Jolie or Beyonce Knowles and others, like myself, that can't see what the fuss is about.
If there is such a thing as reincarnation and if anyone could ever remember their previous lives, I can't help but think it'd help a lot in teaching us about ourselves. Being able to walk a mile in someone else's... um... eyes.
'kay, bad choice of expression.
You environment changes your perception of things quite a lot, I think. I've lived in the back of beyond all my life (kinda), so I see farmland, fields, trees, I'm used to it all but I'm absolutely fascinated by cities, bridges and the ocean. Feels like I could just sit and watch the sea rolling around for days. I wonder what would happen if one person was capable of personally experiencing EVERYTHING. Seeing every sight there was, experiencing all there was to do and be a part of. What'd stand out as the best, most life changing thing you could ever do? Would it be the same for someone else in that exact situation? I've a feeling it'd be something like seeing the Earth from space.
I suppose what we really crave is things that aren't quite familiar but which can still be experienced in the company of friendly people in relative comfort. It might be amazing to tramp through the Amazon rainforests, but I've a feeling it'd be so hard that you wouldn't really appreciate it. On the other hand, last Friday I drove my normal route home and got a glimpse of a snow covered field under and impossible blue, totally clear sky and it honestly blew my mind. It looked so ridiculously perfect, so a cliched movie representation of untouched, flawless snow covered countryside that my jaw dropped.
Sucked that I was driving and couldn't stop and stare for a while.
I don't know if I see the same things as other people. I rather suspect not, but it'd be so dull if we all appreciated everything on the same level. All I know for sure is that it only takes a little detail to make something mundane into something that you'll remember for a lifetime.
Maybe once I've seen a little more of this world, I'll be able to confirm some of this. A voyage of self discovery, perhaps. Shame that my first instinct on seeing something really amazing now has a fairly high percentage of being "gee, this'd make a great photo for facebook".
Bloody Internet.

Sound

Music is a strange thing. It inspires a lot of different things in everyone, but almost everyone likes it to some degree. For something so universally accepted, it's so very varied. Sort of like food, I suppose, there's a lot of different ways to cook and lots of things TO cook, but almost everyone enjoys eating.
There's something necessary about music. I can't imagine life without it. In fact, I couldn't have life without it, I can't help noticing that if people don't have music, they invent their own. Go to a building where people are working, wait for them to get a bit thoughtful and distracted, let that subconscious mind come out.
There we go. You're drumming your fingers vageuly on the desk already.
Music can make and break friendships, start conversations, change your mood, fill you full of adrenaline or put you to sleep. It's a personal thing. Something to share with friends, with like minded people, or something to indulge in on your own. A secret little world that exists only in the tiny space occupied by your head and your headphones. It's very personal to me on account of how all my music is mentally linked to some memory or other.
My memory is a peculiar thing. It doesn't work on dates quite so much, but it tends to work on whatever I was using to entertain myself at the time. I'll remember what games I was playing, what books I was reading and what music I was listening to. The trip down south last summer is now irreversibly linked to Save This World, the soundtrack to Phantasy Star Universe, the trip to London was filled with Earthbound remixes, Paris is Robbie Williams and Britney Spears, the day of my final exam before becoming a BSc saw me driving home listening to the Sky Sanctuary Zone's theme. Bad memories are hooked up to angry songs, good ones to upbeat tracks, but every significant moment of my life's had its own little soundtrack.
All of life's little triumphs and downfalls summed up in little three minute segments. It's quite pleasant to just stick the ipod and daydream at times but a little bit of a downer to think of times that I'll never get back.
I like new music when I'm about to travel or experience something completely new for the first time. That way, if I listen to the album again then I'll always have that feeling of "hey, I remember when we first met". It's harder to do that with old music, those songs already have a lot of meaning behind them.
I don't really know what I'm getting at, here. I suppose sharing musical tastes is a lot like sharing a little part of yourself. Which is perhaps a nice little metaphor for friendships and other such relationships.
Actually, that's not bad. It all ties together rather nicely, I think.

Music also has a lot of power, too. One word. Banaphone.

Bein' friends

Friendship is something I'm not sure I completely understand. It's such a very complicated thing. You can have a friend that you see twice a week and barely have more than a 10 minute conversation but you can also have a friend that you live with, talk to all day and would probably continue to happily see on a daily basis for the rest of your life. They're completely different kinds of personal relationships, but they all fall under that same name of 'friend'.
English is an amusing language, at times. I don't know how well suited other languages are to punning and wordplay, but I like English for it. Despite that, we're just so very unequipped to express ourselves. Friend is a word with at least 5 distinct definitions, I'm sure, not all of which actually mean someone you like and enjoy being with. It's like love, love's just... hell, I don't think it's something you can express in words, let alone ONE. It's simultaneously meaningless and the most important word you could imagine in some situations. Insignificant and life changing.
I don't know why we're really compelled to find friends to hang around with. I could muse on the genetic reasons, the logical benefits to having a group of like minded individuals, but can you actually rationalise humanity in every aspect? If I believed everything that social science claimed, I'd probably only be attracted to blondes, be reasonably racist and think about sex constantly. I think friends need each other for different reasons, perhaps. Emotional support, a helping hand in trying times, things like that. Maybe deep down we're actually fairly lonely as a species and just want someone to talk to.
I'm pretty sure I know why I talk to the people I do. I naturally gravitate to people who can amuse me, especially if they can make me laugh until my stomach hurts. I'm kinda simple like that.
Y'know, maybe friendship doesn't have to serve a purpose. But even then it's complicated. In most friendships, you get that period where for some reason you stop being casual acquaintances and start being fairly solid friends, then best friends, then whatever happens after that, but nothing changes. You still talk about the same things on a regular basis, the only difference is that maybe you're a little more willing to open up. Maybe the strength of friendship is a trust thing.

Eh, I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking this. Apologies for any lack of funny that's been going on, lately, I'm feeling less amusing and more... self critical, perhaps.
Might be time to get a philosophy degree.

BioBlog travel log - 16/01/09

7:05 pm
Last night, I discovered that bar tabs are simultaneously wonderful and terrible things. Wonderful in that the company has agreed to pay for up to £30 of it, but terrible in that once dinner's gone, you have to spend it on drinks to fill it up. And I'm not going to let free money go to waste. Heaven forbid.
But then after the first drink, a second drink seems like an increasingly good idea. And I was sure, at the time, that I was still under budget, but apparently not.
Still, a trip to the city, a good look around, tube travel and training for less than £100 of my own money. Can't knock that.
It's been an entertaining trip, for sure. Probably the highlights being arriving and wandering around with BSc Phil for those two nights. I'd highly recommend coming down to the city if you haven't, but if you've any sense you'll bring a friend. It's not a welcoming place if you're alone, it's a little too large. I suppose most cities are like that unless you're a local, though.
I don't know where we are, now. Partway back, I guess, maybe half an hour away from Leeds. I'm glad of it, travel's getting a bit tiring, even though I haven't had to make my own bed, clean up, cook or attempt to look after myself in any really considerable ways at all. I'm not sure why I'm whining, really. Looks like wherever I end up, I'll never forget my roots. I'll bring a little bit of God's country with me wherever I go. Hopefully people find it amusing as opposed to irritating, I can see arguments for both.
So I guess this is goodbye to one of the strangest places I've been to in a long time. Where the streets are curiously clean, giant televisions adorn the walls, you're never more than 10 minutes from a world famous landmark, the entire population seems to be 20 something and there's more coffee than water. Y'know, it's a shame I'm leaving, I think I may have been starting to fit in. But no, I couldn't come back and sound all southern.
I'm not sure how people would react.

Feeling a little older, a little more experienced and I daresay a little wiser now, I should finish this trip with some profound thought or quote, perhaps, but unfortunately the only thing that springs to mind is a song, the Paradise Line by Jeb Million. It would be a lot more meaningful if it wasn't the theme to the train travel portions of Mother on the NES.
Shall we do that anyway? There's no point in breaking character after all these years, I suppose.

Wave your troubles goobye,
Leave your sadness behind,
We can ride away forever you and I,
Yes forever.
Takin' the Paradise Line.



That'll do.

BioBlog travel log - 15/01/09

8:35 am
Last night was amazing. No other word for it. Wandered around the tate modern, saw tower bridge, big ben (again), trafalgar square (again), buckingham palace and the street leading up to it and went to bed feeling decidedly tipsy. It was, in short, pretty much everything I wanted out of a sightseeing holiday. Bit of a chat, a long walk, a few interesting things for me to take pictures of and a meal in the middle of it all.
Speaking of, I need to mention that. I've never been to Nando's, y'see, so we wander into this place. I've seen cathedrals the size of this restaurant. It was just freakin' IMMENSE, but really rather good. I don't know what Savannah cider is, I certainly don't associate South Africa with cider, but it tasted quite good.
Speaking of, our instructor on the course is South African and ever so slightly mad. Quite a fun guy and lord he's good at his job.
So I guess last night marks the end of my fateful travel through the great series of tubes that was the London underground as I prepare, tomorrow, to return to navigating the great series of tubes that are the Internets. In some ways I'll be sad to not get back on the tube, it's certainly exciting, but I've never seen anything more crowded in all my days.
I'm getting used to this place, I think. I can feel my old cynicism creeping back and I'm starting to realise that people just won't trust me without a good reason to, out here. I suppose that's fair enough, now that I think on it I'm happier here when strangers aren't trying to talk to me, too. And given that I've not had a tan for a decade and that my glasses don't quite sit straight, I guess I do look a bit odd, but with so many people in this place, it's just so easy to feel like you fit in. Or at least, to feel like there are people stranger than you walking around.
Incidentally, Buckingham palace is gorgeous. I can highly recommend it. The Thames is worth a look too, if you like water. That might be just me, but I tend to find bodies of water relaxing to be around, so that was pretty neat, too.
I just wish that I still had flesh on the back of my right foot.

BioBlog travel log - 14/01/09

6:15 pm
It's a small world, after all. I think we had a lot to learn from little orphan Annie (although if you live in Britain, the sun may not come out tomorrow. It may remain overcast for 3 weeks. I shan't be betting my bottom dollar, if it's all the same).
I decided to indulge in the hotel restaurant last night. Nice, sure, but it did remind me that I'm just not that posh at all. I try, I get the pretentious tea and I've managed to cast off my old accent and regional slang, but it creeps back when I'm not paying attention. But I'm sat happily finishing off the cheese board (not too bad, but more cheese than any man should desire) after the risotto (pretty damned good) and bidding a fond goodbye to the last of a pot of darjeeling when someone comes up to me.
"Capita financial?"
It's happening. I'm becoming my father in every way. My dad has this terrifying ability to be able to find someone he knows wherever he ends up. He found people he knew on his honeymoon.
In Tenerife.
So apparently I can't get 200 miles away from home and still manage to be completely alone, which is sort of nice.
But anyway, it's Wednesday and I'm not too impressed that gaming night is having to go on without me. It hit me a few days ago, though, that this trip isn't entirely unlike an RPG.
I mean, I've travelled far and wide, leaving everything behind with a clear purpose in mind. I've travelled the streets looking for anything of interest, though haven't found any treasure chests yet. I've travelled to underground dungeons, shot through dark and uninviting caves, been presented with a great many scrolls and have consumed a number of healing potions. With shots of mint in them.
I don't know if cider counts there, too, but it does make me feel better. Maybe that restores mana.
The only thing missing here is the ability to carry all my worldly possessions in one backpack, which many RPGs characters seem to be able to do. Unless it's Earthbound, but then that WAS set in the present day. I guess maybe that's a better metaphor for what I'm doing.
So, 'til tomorrow. Wish you were here and all that. Mostly on account of how adventuring parties of 1 never really work for long and I'm not too happy at the thought of dragging all my stuff around alone on Friday. Must admit, I am rather missing MSN and a full sized keyboard. Perhaps we can alleviate this, somehow...
>_>
Ahhh...

BioBlog travel log - 13/01/09

7:10 pm
There's something that's becoming painfully apparent in this city. Nobody looks particularly happy about anything. It's as if the entire outside world exists entirely as a means of getting from point A to B and that this should be done with a minimum of human contact and with no regard paid to your surroundings. I've never seen a town or city so devoid of people actually talking to each other. Sure, there's guys in business suits talking all over the place, but that always looks more like work. There's no concept of a leisurely stroll and a bit of a talk over a cup of tea or anything.
It's not like we're short of tea here, either. Beverages at least. Most places you can navigate by pubs, but here you could navigate by Starbucks. Now I do like Starbucks a LOT, I've been having lunch there all week while I have half an hour of sudoku, but nobody needs that much coffee, surely. It's like fish and chip shops back home that set up 5 minutes apart yet somehow manage to stay in business.
But yeah, thousands of people wander past me every day, none of them looking especially pleased. It's sad, I guess, especially since the architecture around here is really rather impressive. Certainly not pretty unless you've an eye for that kind of thing, but I'm still staring at the skyline constantly as I wander around. I know I'm never going to get over all this. It's like a part of my mind has donned a waxed moustache and started screaming "Homes touching the heavens! And horseless carriages careening through the public! The devil take this addled place from my sight!"
It's really reinforcing my thoughts that nobody here has time for anything. Not for people, not for just having a lay about of a Sunday afternoon, not even for a pot of tea. Everyone just walks around with cardboard cups.
I think the thing that really clinched it was an article I was reading in some financial paper today. You can say that about London, there is NO shortage of reading material, I'm picking up two free newspapers per day and I'm entitled to £5 worth from the hotel. But yeah, something about how the people in the city are experiencing record levels of STDs and generally sleeping around wherever the hell they like to relieve the stress. I dunno, if that ever happened to me... y'know, I'm not sure it could, but if it did I'd be going back up north like a greyhound with it's rear end on fire.
Tomorrow will bring one last jaunt to the city streets in search of entertainment with my charming tour guide. I hope to find something interesting to photograph, because I've been indulging in my old hobby of taking photos that are sort of amusing out of context. It's a good hobby, I think, and writing the captions is fun, but it always leads to my dad asking why I took photos of street signs.
Well, I guess we all see beauty differently. Some people get it from sunsets, some from glamour models, I get it from the inherent madness in humanity, attitudes to living and from heavily industrialised areas. I quite miss pottering around the abandoned production buildings back at Brown's.
Each to their own, aye?

BioBlog travel log - 12/01/09

BioBlog travel log - 12/01/09

8:15am
This place isn't quite real. I met up with an old friend from my course last night and we took in a few of the sights. Seriously, this place is like walking into a postcard, it's wall to wall landmarks and it's all so ridiculously gorgeous. It's lit up like a Christmas tree at night, skyscrapers line the horizon during the day and everywhere I look reminds me constantly that this is maybe the pinnacle of British achievement. This insane hive of activity, never resting, never stopping.
If I were a more energetic kind of person, I think I could deal with living here. I'd be leaving for too much behind, though, and I really don't think I could deal with living here without at least a few friends. It's funny, the more people you put in a place, the more you get a curious sense of isolation from it all. Still, people here that I've spoken to seem largely friendly (alright, they're being paid to help direct people and provide hotel services, but even so), so I can't complain there.
Last night was a hoot. Piccadilly circus, King's Cross, Whitehall, Nelson's column, Downing Street, the eye and the Thames. And probably some others that I can't recall just now, but it WAS 11 in the evening in my defence. Never thought I'd catch myself wandering the streets of London at midnight. The tube is an experience I'd recommend to most, unless you get nervous in crowds.
It's a funny city. You go to Leeds and the inner city looks like a city, the outlying areas look like large towns. You come here and there's the big industrial areas, the entertainment areas where all the fancy film premiers go on and the residential looking places that look... well, like smaller cities. This place doesn't do ANYTHING by halves. It's like it's been split (albeit seamlessly) into dozens of different areas. Hopping off the tube at any given station will take you to what looks like a completely different city. It's quite confusing, but there's still a reasonable sense of consistency and it's really quite exciting along with it.
This room has a bath. I shall certainly be indulging in that, s'been over two years. Two bloody years. That's criminal, that is. Quite a nice little room, really, reminds me a little bit of campus living, but a much larger room. I don't know why it's a twin, though. My original idea of "the person in the company who booked the rooms is flirting with me" seems to have failed, but that's just fine.
I mean, I think it was a dude, anyway.

10:00 pm
This city thought it had defeated me. Today was a day for exploration and poor decisions.
See, the plan was to finish the course for the day then hit up the Thames and ride the eye. It seemed like a good plan, especially as they also run a cruise service from the same location. It has to be mentioned at this point that I enjoy travelling on boats more than... really, more than almost anything. So down to the eye, which involves me finally experiencing the horror of the tube in full force. I thought I'd seen it on Sunday, people milling about all over like sheeps, bustling, moving far too quickly in big metal bullets. But no. No, today I experienced something which I've only ever seen in video footage from Japan. Cars literally filled to capacity with people, with yet more people trying to get on. Etiquette gets thrown out the window as people pile their way on without any kind of regard for me being stood right in front of the goddamned door.
This place also seems to have sapped my powers. What little charisma I had seems useless here. I suppose it was my own fault for trying to do something as misguided as starting an idle conversation in the middle of a 10 minute queue where nobody could have conceivably had anything else to do but stare at the walls. I'm used to folk not noticing I'm there, it's entertaining sometimes, but to be completely blanked like that was, honestly, pretty draining.
To Waterloo station, which was at least large and quite interesting to wander around. At least the people running the information desks around here are genuinely wonderful, I'd probably still be at Picadilly now if it weren't for them. Shiny new map in hand, I set off to the eye.
The eye is not running. Not for this week. Neither is the cruise ferry, just the commuter ferry. At the very least, I got to take some pictures of the Thames, which is rather nice, but couldn't quite work out the camera. It was largely a collection of blur and darkness with some coherence, apart from the one shot I took of myself which clearly shows my acne. Which has now magically vanished within 3 hours. I check the timetable for the next boat, only to realise that my phone is out of power and that I've not worn a watch in over 2 months. Then I notice Big Ben after 20 minutes, which makes me feel like an idiot. Actually, that's sort of funny now.
But no, I'll fight this thing, I think. I'm near the playhouse or something like that, this might be a classier end of town. Let's try that. Passing a couple of places that seemed vaguely famous (some Chinese place particularly. Mama... something. Mamagawa?) I was sort of impressed and watching the joggers was fun. Maybe you have to get good at running in this city. It CERTAINLY couldn't hurt. Then came a huge display of grafitti. Now I'm naive, I'll be the first to admit, so I figured that it was some urban art thing. I quite like that stuff. The gang of hoodies that emerged from the darkness suggested otherwise.
Time for a very hasty retreat, because I can hear some meaningful rumblings from their direction, despite my headphones and I'm suddenly very, very alone. With a camera.

It's at this point that there was a bit of a Douglas Adamas moment. He described how he wrote the hitchhiker's guide when he wrote my omnibus edition, about how he was hitching through Europe and an impossible sequence of events nearly drove him mad. I was starting to really understand, being stuck 200 miles in hostile territory, far from my bed and fridge, friends and family...
Back to the hotel, anyway. Forget dinner, I'll sort that after... oh, right. There's a bath here.
I don't know what to say, now. I can heartily recommend taking nothing but showers for 2 years, if only for the experience of getting back into the cauldron of searing heat, because every part of my body seems to think I've just been taking ecstasy like bags of skittles. Hot DAMN.

Hotel food's good. Standard English breakfast, but a "make your own muesli" option, too, which I find quite amusing when there's pig bits on offer. Still haven't tried the fancy restaurant, but I think I'll go make a tit of myself tomorrow and order something really common like a true Yorkshireman. And cider as well.
And so, with a cup of sweet tea, little to no feeling in my limbs and the thoughts of a big ol' breakfast tomorrow, things aren't so very bad. This place isn't too bad, now that I've been here a while, but it's just so busy. Nobody's ever allowed to stop for anything, you charge from one end of town to get to work, then charge the other way for your leisure and finally dash home for bed.
It must be just cities. Everywhere else I've been in the south has been really quite nice, decent people, a lot of entertaining things but nothing being shoved in your face on billboard ads, pretty much like Yorkshire with funny accents and better scenery. This city's so impersonal.
Quite looking forward to the return trip, really. Get a good night's sleep, maybe some comfort food, say some hellos and then more sleep. Yeah.

Incidentally, I'm reading the list of services the hotel offers and trying to convince myself that yes, a massage would be amazing right now, but I'd rather have the £30. There's something here about some makeover you can have if you're pregnant that's supposed to make you beautiful for your big day or something.
2 things occur, here.
1. I thought that women were generally supposed to get more attractive to some extent when they were pregnant. Some genetic thing to do with the body trying to keep the male interested in hanging around. Anyway, people always seem to say things about pregnant women glowing, which suggests either a boost in outward appearance or health. Either that, or babies probably register on Geiger counters.
2. Right, I don't care who you are, when your "big day" comes, you're going to be laid on a table in stirrups with complete strangers staring at your crotch. There will be crying, bleeding, screaming, cursing, projectile pooing. You will not, in any way, shape or form be winning any beauty contests.

The way I see it, you might as well just slum around in jogsuits and tshirts until the baby's due. Then at least you won't stretch out any fancy clothes. But then, I might have a vague idea about this "new man" concept, but I've barely evolved further than thinking that a shower and a shave are impressive displays of preparation for an evening out.

BioBlog travel log - 11/01/09

So, I figured that since I'll be on the train for a while, so let's take a book or something.
But hello! This train has a plug for laptops and phones! So, rather than a story or a peculiar little observation on life, let's write this as I'm experiencing things. Innovation, redefining the idea of what a blog is, that's the ticket!

So here I am, sat in Leeds city station on the 17:05 to King's Cross with my good friends laptop and Starbucks. I'm finally going to the big city for the first time in my life and I must admit to being a little excited. I mean, I've been away from home before, sure, but I've never done it completely alone. I've always either known someone I was with or have been on my way to meet someone I knew.
Trains are an amusing idea. I haven't been on one in some 16 years but I'm happy about the concept. It's not quite the same as the car, sure, but that's perhaps not a bad thing. It reminds me of travelling to Europe in a lot of ways. Dark night, bright lights...
This is really nostalgic.
Life really has been taking some amusing turns of late. This is certainly quite a laugh, listening to the kid in the next aisle. Not entirely unlike the kids in Paris. There was something impossibly charming about hearing rapid French being spoken by a 3 year old girl.
But life's been a fairly rapid string of adventures, lately. I guess that's the nature of life, really, you have more experiences, you meet more people, it all opens doors. Gives you the confidence to wander out on a whim, to go and see the world. I could get used to travelling, in many ways. It's crazy addictive, that's the trouble. I mean, I've had the wanderlust now since I got back from my last trip to the south. I guess we need this kind of thing sometimes. To get out there, escape from the predictability of our comfort zones and such, but it's intimidating at the same time. The knowledge that you're so very far from everything you know, your own bed, a predictable kettle and the corner shop, you get used to all the old home comforts. Maybe that's why travel is tiring, it's something of an emotional drain. Heaven knows it's not too physically gruelling, once you've found a way to shift the luggage around. This place is pretty comfy, Got to hand them that. Shame I can't take a nap.
Silly to think that less than 6 years ago I was scared to even go on the motorway. But then, I guess the only thing I've retained from those days is a strange taste in music.

This world's amazing, the more I see of it. People get seperated by landmasses, oceans and such to the point where you can take one person from two different countries and be able to see next to no similarities. That's crazy, if you think about it, we're all the same species, we all function the same, but yet here we are eating different foods, having different standard of behaviour and different methods of communication. Different cultural taboos, different religions, different attitudes and approaches to fulfilling the most absolutely base human needs. I suppose that explains racism, it's just people doing things in a way you can't understand and don't much care to accept. Not that that justifies racism (although admittedly I'm in favour of it on a good-natured ribbing level. Like how we tend to poke a little fun at Americans and they give us a little back. Nothing mean spirited), but I suppose you have to feel sorry for people that aren't able to let themselves even be civil to people just because they were brought up in a different kind of environment. But yeah, you stick 200 miles of countryside between people and all of a sudden they start doing crazy things like wrapping eggs up in sausages and coating them in breadcrumbs. I mean I'm sorry, I like scotch eggs a lot, but if you stuck some bacon in that sucker, you'd have something pretending to be a full english breakfast.
Actually... that's a bloody good idea. Anyone reading this who's feeling like a kitchen adventure, please consider it. I'll love you forever if it actually works and we can get the world to accept it. Or I'll buy you a pint or something. Bacon treats are perhaps not a suitable foundation for any kind of relationship. They're not a bad start, though.
And now darkness has fallen, my ipod has decided to dispense Japanese lounge music and it's really striking my how ridiculously beautiful this land is at night. Thousands of twinkling lights, each one with a story behind them. Each one someone living their life, a set of hopes, fears and achievements that I'll never know of. Y'know, this world really is far too large. I'm not sure what's better, really, to go and meet as many people as you can, to bomb around the world at a frenzied pace and see everything you can or to sit back and try to do a few things PROPERLY. Make really good friends, settle down, make a nice home for yourself, get a proper career and just be comfortable. People ask about the meaning of life as if they need one singular purpose, one goal to dedicate themselves to, but I don't reckon such a thing exists. Life doesn't have to be justified, it's too unpredictable to direct like that. Always thought myself that the only thing anyone should ever strive for is to find what they really love, what makes them the happiest and just do it.
I guess that's my calling then, if you will. I've got a job now, a little place to call my own, good friends and the drive and means to do most anything now, with a little planning. Perhaps I'll spend the next few years thinking on what makes us tick, writing about why I find human nature so compelling but simultaneously very peculiar. Maybe nobody will ever really read this stuff outside of the few of you who browse these pages on occasion, but that hardly matters. If I've amused anybody, maybe altered someone's perspective on life at all, I'm pretty happy.
I wonder if this thing would have read any differently if I'd been listening to, say, radio shows or trance music as I wrote it. Looks like the slow slushy stuff makes me feel at peace with everything. I guess I'd better listen to speed metal when I finally get around to rigging up the blueprints for my vast robot horde.
That sorta guarantees that I'll never conquer the world, at least not that way. I can't abide speed metal, sometimes.
We're now about an hour away from London. The coffee is but a distant, creamy memory, but at least my tickets have apparently worked. And they've been stamped with pretty stars, too.

Our future

Children are invincible. This is a plain, simple fact. You see them on TV, they can be involved in some quite spectacular crashes on their bikes and swings, but still come out with nothing but a few scratches and a cheesy grin.
Y'know what'd happen if I fell off a bike? Straight down to A&E, half a day off work, people around asking if I wanted to consider sueing the council as part of an accident and injury lawsuit.
I would not trundle off down the road within 2 minutes.

This might be because I'm a bloke.

This intruiges me, though. Children heal pretty quickly, too. Like, REALLY quickly. They root around in the muck and sludge, catch all kinds of diseases and life the hell out of life.
Y'know how cyborgs are always adults? Why is that? If I were to make a race of unstoppable metal men, I wouldn't go for adults. For one thing, partially robot kiddies would be hard to stop on a psychological level. Especially if they tried to hug you. For another, there's the natural invincibility thing.
It's a shame that a lot of us lose the ability to thumb our noses at death (and common sense). I say some, because if it were all of us then we wouldn't have stuntmen and Jade Goody wouldn't have PAs. I wonder if there's a little switch in the back of your mind that gets switched from "that looks fun!" to "but pain is painful...".
But yeah, children: frikkin' HARDCORE. Rock on, little dudes.

Backlog Blog the first

So, I've been writing a little recently. Problem is, I wrote... quite a lot. I've been doing the blog every week, but I haven't been uploading the backlog, I've just been saving them.
The upshot of this is that I have 3 months of material to post. I'd get a pot of coffee.
Contained here is a number of musings written around the new year's period as well as my London travel logs.
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I have a plan. It is a grand and noble plan, one that cannot, in my eyes, fail.
I'm going to save the world.

This doesn't mean that I've turned my back on the idea of total, unquestioned world domination, but I'm not too happy with the state of the world as it stands. I don't want a world like this. We're in a little trouble, what with the economic crisis and I simply can't ignore that any longer.
And I'm trying to, but the TV just won't let me.
I didn't really believe in the recession at first. I'll admit, I shouldn't really talk about this since I'm from something of a... comparitively privileged background, I suppose. I've got a job supporting an agency that works pretty heavily with the government, I've got a degree, in all honesty I can't see being laid off. I'm not trying to sound like a pompous ass, but I really was planning on ducking my head under the sand until this thing blew over and I thought it was doable, too. Thing is, now that shops are going out of business, places I used to actually patronise, I really can't dodge it.
For some people, the first sign was money getting tight. For me, it was losing Woolies.

But the plan. Oh lord, the plan.

I was watching TV at home this afternoon. I do a lot of that, mostly on account of not having Sky back home, it's rather compelling. An advert came on. Ocean Finance now has its own TV channel.
This GENUINELY scares me. We're largely in this mess because of lending too much, as far as I can gather, so now that there's a channel dedicated to pumping out heartwarming stories about how loans changed a family's life...
They're always the same, too. The family is deep in debt, they take out this magic loan and then for some reason buy a new family car. Or an extension to their home. Somehow that original debt seems to get absorbed by the debt consolidation fairy.
So here's what I propose we do. All of us, and I do mean all of us, apply for a loan. Simultaneously.
Well, not ACTUALLY simultaneously. I don't want to inadvertently launch a DDOS attack against anybody.
The main virtue of these companies, we are told, is that they will lend to anyone regardless of their circumstances or their history. The people on the ads look to have some pretty colourful backgrounds, so I reckon we could pull this off. I consider most of my friends to be fairly trustworthy, credit-wise.
So yeah, we put all these applications in. This will have one of two effects:
- It'll shut the companies down for a while to give them time to see who the serious applicants actually are.
- The companies will honour many, many applications before they notice that something funny is going on. It'll make us all fabulously wealthy.
So suppose that second one happens. Then the loan companies need to find the money from somewhere. This'll either mean that WE have to lend them the money, or it'll completely destabilise the world economy, reducing us to rioting in the streets, anarchic reign of loosely assembled street gangs and general chaos.
And then I'll break out the robots or something. Y'know, try to stand out as a clear leader above the throng and reduce all opposition to a greasy vapour.
Alright, so it's not a perfect plan, but work with me, here. For the glory of BioCorp!