I take my seat in a small square room with fifteen other people that I do not know. The seminar for this first week is on Samuel Beckett. He is a part of my course and I will return to him in the coming weeks, but prior to this evening I was not overly familiar with his work. All I knew was that he had a certain sort of reputation; a literary playwright among other things…our tutor asks what we thought of First Love and Other Novellas. A few people chip in and add their intellectual comments. I listen, agreeing mostly and wondering whether to comment or not. I am not a natural speaker in a group of people. Then, much to my dread, the tutor goes around the room asking each and every one of us in turn for our opinion. I am at once both nervous and grateful that I did actually read a significant chunk of this book.

It is getting nearer and nearer to my turn and I can feel my mouth going dry. Finally it is my chance to speak. I comment that Beckett’s characters are somewhat dark, yet within that there is a lot of humour and I had no idea that his writing was so funny. I see a couple of heads nodding in agreement. Emboldened by this I continue saying that Beckett’s way of writing is very uncensored, it’s as if his thoughts are pouring out of him and spill out to be immortalised in ink on the page. I’m also intrigued by Beckett’s linguistic games and the attention that he gives to the sometimes inadequate function of language itself to describe meanings.

I love Beckett for the fact that he was something of a revolutionary and he refused to let his plays be performed in front of segregated audiences. Beckett is someone I want to know more about, but for now all I can do is soak up other people’s comments and come back to him at some point in the future.

Right before I log off, I need to brag a little bit. I have just bought the nicest running shoes that I have ever owned. Parks Marathon, here I come!

ShareThis

People can be so awful, dear diary!

People—at least the peasants of the middle and working class and that oh so unmentionable class below that–for which I cannot actually remember a name but I will discern here as ‘paupers’—are cruel. They do not understand where the upper folk such as I George Henry the Fifth arrive from. Take the following short story, for example:

Last week I was forced to take a job stacking shelves at a popular supermarket in the city of London. It was a place that, up until this terrible moment, I had never had reason or need to venture into; I had heard stories about garages—the places where the lower classes fill up their cars with petrol—and I am sorry to say that the stories are true. It really is another world in these dire places!

Anyway, I have gone from the point.

I had to get this job because I have met a rather fine female named Delilah; now, Delilah is lower in class than me, but her body is very fine and her brain and intellect, as far as I can make out now without subjecting her to rigorous testing, are a shade below me too. So the reason for the job is this: I would like Delilah to think me a man of the world. If that means lowering my standards to subterranean depths then so be it, dear diary.

Now, on this day, I ran into difficulty with the manager—the small bald man who believes himself to be better than I. He told me I could not wear my industrial gardening gloves while stacking shelves, simply because they did not match the purported supermarket image. Now, I soon lost my patience: I had recently had my nails manicured and I did not wish to ruin them for vegetables. But did he understand? Of course not! This is what I am talking about. I feel the following year in this big smoke place will be fraught with difficulties–

So before I log off, I have something to admit. I love Hayden Panettiere (sorry Warren). I was going through the most recent season on dvd well into the night and the acting was brilliant! I would highly recommend this one to all of you…

ShareThis

A lot of people see Morrissey as being a bit ‘Morose-y’. I can see where they are coming from, but in this way he is comparable to Leonard Cohen. Yes, his music can little a bit dark, but there is a humour to it all as well.

If you were looking for his best album then it would probably come down to a choice between ‘You are the Quarry’ (2004) and ‘Ringleader of the Tormentors’ (2006). These both contain some truly brilliant tracks. However, I think that ‘You are the Quarry’ must be the best of the two overall. As an album, there are no weak spots; every track is strong, cleverly written and slickly sung.

‘You are the Quarry’ was a bit of a comeback album for Morrissey. During the late eighties and nineties he became a rather ridiculed figured in British music. Many no longer saw any real relevance to his music and he was shunned by many critics. With ‘You are the Quarry’ he could no longer simply be ignored. This guy was not planning on going anywhere and his work was sounding far more stylised…

Morrissey has always been known for his strong opinions and they are all on display here. He begins his album by explaining to us that ‘America is not the World’ and he does not let up. Over the duration of the twelve tracks he tells us of his dissatisfaction with several different things. He covers; the banality of teenage gangs, the unfairness of music critics, the farce of our Royal family and the ridiculous amount of importance placed on a person’s sexuality. It all may sound like heavy going, but it’s not. The whole thing is so masterfully balanced out by Morrissey’s humour and cleverness with words.

He may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but Morrissey is an incredibly talented songwriter. If you can look past the sarcasm, cynicism and nihilism then you’ll find wisdom, humour… and even a degree of tenderness.

I have just updated a few images on the email marketing page, I am kind of starting to think I should have left it. And before you say anything Bret, yes we all know that you could have done it better…

ShareThis

I’m naturally quite a shy and introverted person, so one of the things that I was worried about when I started college was that I’d be leaving my friends behind. I was nervous about meeting new people, and was concerned that I would have difficulty meeting anyone new amidst the flurry of classes and my part-time job, which took up quite a few hours of my week. I was terrified that I would be completely isolated, and miss out on all of the experiences that everyone seems to talk about when they look back on their college years.

The first year was quite difficult for me, as I didn’t see very many familiar faces between my different classes, and my part-time work schedule made it difficult to stay on campus to attend any club meetings or social events. I made a few acquaintances, but in that year didn’t meet anyone I’d really call a close friend. I did find, though, that as I moved through the years, my classes began to thin out, and I was seeing the same people over and over in my classes. Knowing that we had something in common really helped me open up, and over time, we met for study sessions, and then for coffee and dinners.

Still, my work made it difficult for me to spend a lot of time with my new friends, and I did find that I was missing out on quite a few of the evening events—heading out to a party or a bar, and I found this quite demoralising. I did begin to take up some activities outside of college—dance classes and so forth—as these fitted in better with my schedule, and I found that this really helped things. Still, I wish I’d found a way to manage my part-time work more effectively so that I could’ve gotten more out of my college experience. Looking back, I’d definitely recommend diving in and joining up whatever club will have you, and chatting to anyone you meet. You’ll appreciate the whole tertiary experience a whole lot more.

Alright everyone: I have significant news about the trailride, it emerged that there is something about equine insurance that we need to look into. I know nothing about this, so Claire if you could do this it would be a load off my mind.

ShareThis

As an avid football fan, and I’m talking about proper football, not that American rubbish, I have been largely disappointed with the state of the sport in Canada and North America. Sure, it is there, but it’s not as big as it is in England and I am certainly missing it greatly.

However, another sport has managed to fill the void quite nicely, and that is Ice Hockey. The energetic, quick pace of the game makes it entertaining to watch and the fact that on any given day, any team could be another team, makes it so marvellously unpredictable. It is a colourful and well followed sport which helps and is certainly very physical, as sports should be.

The other major sports such as Baseball, Basketball and the aforementioned American Football, are too “stop-start” with very little going on. American Football is just a slower more boring version of rugby. Basketball confounds me no end with its “no contact whatsoever” rules and Baseball is just dull.

I’m sure all these sports are a lot of fun to play, as most sports are, but I’m talking about them from the point of view of a spectator. I like my sports hard and fast and that is why Hockey is working out so well for me.

Of course, after realising I liked it, it was time to pick a team to follow, as sport matters so much more when there is someone or some team to support. It gains a meaning and purpose. As I was based in Edmonton at the time, I was encouraged to support the Oilers, and with their successful past and history I was intrigued. However, I am a sucker for underdogs (I support Southampton F.C in England). So after hearing about all the trouble the Phoenix Coyotes were in and how they were slated to struggle all season, I knew I had found my team.

Also, on a more shallow note, their logo and colour scheme is simply fantastic. So, with Jersey in hand and an unquenchable thirst for Hockey now ingrained into my head, the NHL has found itself another life-long supporter and follower of one of the world’s greatest sports.
Funny thing, I was talking with my mate last week and he reckons that in the recession lots of firms are turning towards corporate event london to motivate the employees. I don’t really know how I feel about this, I mean it’s a pleasant thought but it is never going to encourage people as much as a nice big cash incentive is it?

ShareThis

Late last year I had the pleasure and the honour to be a steward during the visit of the relics of St Therese of Lisieux to England. The event was widely reported in the news but let me tell you a little about it and how it could have a positive impact on all of our lives, whether we ourselves are religious or not.

St Therese was a young Carmelite nun who lived in France in the 19th Century. Although she lived a cloistered life her fame spread rapidly after her death due to the posthumous publication of her autobiography ’The Story Of A Soul’. People have been inspired by her words and actions, and there are many claims of miraculous healings associated with her, until now she is arguably the most loved saint in Christendom.

The relics of St Therese (fragments of bone in a beautifully ornate casket) are occasionally taken to countries around the world to allow her fans to pay respect. As such I found myself stewarding the crowds and traffic one day outside a remote convent in the middle of the Yorkshire hills, and I was blown away by the beauty of the day. There was no public transport to the location but the queues were forming early. Pilgrims were waiting hours with no refreshments other than those that they brought themselves but nobody grumbled and there was the constant sound of laughter and joyful singing which was replaced by silent reverence as they approached the chapel where the casket was on view.

Early in the day local schoolchildren had scattered rose petals over the glass container around the casket and hundreds of visitors brought their own roses to place there as well (St Therese had said ’after my death I will let a shower of roses fall’ and many claim that they have suddenly seen or smelt roses at times when Therese has helped them). People had brought crosses and prayer cards just to touch the glass around the relics with, many from people who had been too ill to travel themselves. Especially moving where the many handicapped and disabled people who had made arduous journeys to see St Therese and their beaming faces and complete faith and joy in live moved me profoundly. Many people were weeping tears of joy as they kissed the glass and said silent prayers of thanksgiving to Therese, ’The Little Flower’ and the people’s saint.

Many people came who were not Catholics, not religious at all, but had heard her story on the news or read it in papers and everybody seemed to go away happy. I believe that Therese has a very useful message for us all today: take pleasure in the little things of life and do everything as well as you can.

Therese, although now considered a great saint, did not carry out any remarkable miracles in her lifetime but she did try to live every day as well as she could: this came to be known as ’The Little Way’.

Her message was to never complain anything but to take pleasure out of doing things that you would otherwise find a chore. She purposely spent time with people that did not initially like her and whose company she did not like so that she could conquer any negativity that she might have in her life. She loved everybody she said, and was always willing to serve anybody. She sacrificed her own will completely and obeyed the wishes of others without hesitation, but through this sacrifice she found complete peace and harmony. Although suffering greatly at the end of her life she never complained to the point where some Sisters believed that she was not even ill. ’I will become love’ she stated and her one aim above all else in life was to encourage love wherever she went.

I am not perfect, and I’m sure that you also are not perfect, but I try everyday to follow the example of St Therese: when I am about to complain about something I hold my breath and think again; when somebody has wronged me I forgive them instead of harbouring a grudge that will only make me more miserable; I try to think of how people would like to be helped and do it before they ask, the smiles on their face make any sacrifice worthwhile. So yes, I am not perfect and my good intentions slip from time to time but just by trying to follow ’The Little Way’ I feel enriched and I feel energised.

I am loving 2010 and I know that my life is going to get better and better!

One last thing, I have been put forward to set up the stand for my company at the business convention next week. Any suggestions on where I can get some good exhibition stands at short notice?

ShareThis

There were several key ingredients which made the games play so well. The graphics were not only good; they were beautiful, bright and appealing. Each level was wonderfully designed and had some really nice finishing touches.

The control system was incredibly easy to use and you could be whizzing around quite confidently within the space of five minutes. There were quite a few different moves to master, but the programmers had configured everything perfectly. And the learning curve was set just right; not too easy, but not so hard that you wanted to bite your own hand in frustration.

Each game in the trilogy actually managed to improve on its predecessor. Minor glitches were ironed out, new characters and moves were added and the visuals got even better. By the time that the third adventure was out, the already polished design was really pushing the boundaries of 3D gaming.

But the other great thing about Spyro’s adventures was the music. Many games like this will have a good soundtrack, but nothing that is quite so memorable. The Spyro adventures were decorated with the tunes of Stewart Copeland and the overall effect was stunning. No other musician could have come up with anything half as suitable as this; it tied in with the games perfectly and made them even more of a joy to play.

The gaming world may have moved on since then but Spyro will never be forgotten. And modern programmers can still learn a thing or two from his adventures.

So before I go, I have something to admit. I love Xena Warrior Princess (sorry Pauline). I was viewing the most recent season on dvd well into the night and it is an amazingly entertaining show! I would highly recommend this one to all of you…

ShareThis

Yesterday, as I was on my travels, I came across a market stall that sold mobile phone accessories. I told the guy what I was looking for and, lo and behold, he had some! Not only that but they came complete with their very own carry case. My friend had paid £25 for her ones; these were only £12!

I would tell you what brand my speakers are, but I can’t. For all intents and purposes, it would seem that the manufacturer wanted to remain anonymous. After I had set them up and plugged them into my phone I soon understood why…

The sound quality is pathetic. There is an intermittent buzzing on certain songs and, after five minutes, I realised I had wasted my money. Why do people even bother to make things which are so obviously crap???

There is a valuable lesson to all of this; ‘You get what you pay for’.

I am going out later to buy myself a set of Sony Ericsson ones. £25 suddenly doesn’t seem so steep and, if I had just bought some proper ones in the first place, then I would now be £12 better off. Because of my own stupidity, it is going to cost me £37 for a set of mini speakers! What a fool!

At least you know that something is half-decent if it has a reputable name attached to it. I am not big on brand names, but when you are looking for quality they are a good thing to stick to!

Last thing before I go I totally need to inform you all about the strangest art exhibition that I went to in Bristol the other day, it was in substance a red room with loads of shutters in it. Very odd!

ShareThis

Why is it that people are still superstitious in this day and age? With all the logic and technology that we have around us it seems a little silly. It is difficult to believe that some people are still cautious about opening an umbrella indoors, walking under a ladder or crossing on the stairs.

Perhaps there is some sort of comfort attached to it… By keeping superstition alive we are holding onto the past; an age where things were more magical, unexplainable and mysterious. Do we subconsciously yearn to be back in a time where a thunderstorm was something that only happened if God was angry?

I find it surprising just how many people are superstitious. There are still a huge amount of people who think that Friday the 13^th might be unlucky for them or that they are in serious trouble for the next seven years if they break a mirror. Even things like Saint Christopher’s and charm bracelets are actually helping to feed an irrational fear of the unknown by ‘warding off’ bad luck.

It is strange how a race that is so advanced is still so easily controlled by superstitious hokum. You would think that we would have waved goodbye to it all a couple of hundred years ago.

Some of it, I am sure, is done completely subconsciously; touch wood, fingers crossed and that it is actually ingrained in our personalities. But just how many of us would be happy to let go of it altogether? Many of us have our own ‘lucky numbers’ on the Lottery even if they have never helped us to win any money…

I think that a lot of us need to have our superstitious rituals. They are something that makes us think that we have got a little bit of control in a universe of utter chaos and chance.

Final thing, I have just found a really great blog on Enigin Engery Savings . It has all sorts of exciting new energy saving schemes and campaigns, and some pretty humorous posts as well! Check it out!

ShareThis

I do love the moderator badge and but the power has slightly gone to my head. Fear me for I now have power! (Evil laugh)

ShareThis