Huzzah

Bad Point Penn

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Elise: I'm not your performing monkey, I can't just say funny things on demand.

I was close to ranting about Sean Penn and my seething hatred for those ultra-liberal Hollywood types who seem to think that being in the motion picture industry imbues you with political understanding that us mere mortals couldn't even dream of. I'm fine when people champion there causes, a friend of mine is currently inundating the social networks attempting to gather support for an initiative to feed the hungry, another is fundraising for a heart foundation, a swarm constantly thrust anti-Conservative ramblings into the world and even I have championed my fair share of causes. Sean Penn however in calling Britain "colonialist, ludicrous and archaic" seems to be utterly oblivious to the sheer hypocrisy that is rife in his words. Argentina are the country attempting to impose themselves on an island that wishes to remain under British rule, yet Sean Penn sides with them and calls us the colonialists? To me this doesn't make sense. I implore any political-minded reader to read this article by Ed West, puts it into words a lot better than I could.

Yesterday, for the first time in what has seemed like an age, I went to the pub with Murray, Alun and briefly James and Keri. I never realised how lonely full-time employment was going to be and my social life has somewhat disappeared into oblivion. My time is split between work and Elise and there is little time or opportunity for anything else, even when I'm not working, commuting, seeing Elise or generally too tired from the combination of all three to consider being able to go out, the others are busy. Saying that, I wouldn't change for a world the amount of time I spend with Elise. I wouldn't trade a single hour with her for an hour with others. I don't regret a single iota our time together or how we are operating under the imposition of distance. With Elise in Wycombe the vast majority of the time my days and evenings are generally spent alone, the closest I had to social contact the past few weeks has been my housecarl on Skyrim. I loathe my housecarl on Skyrim. I need to make more time for evenings like yesterday. None of this matters right now though, Elise is back tonight from Wycombe and will be home for over a week. I truly cannot wait for work to end.

Commuting Contemplations

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Hector: I would like nothing more than to thread a thin piece of piano wire throughout your entire circulatory system, rock up with an enormous electro-magnet, then throw the switch, and grin smugly at my own ingenuity as it rips out of your skin, and the diced pieces tumble to the floor, like in that scene from the first Resident Evil film, but less neat and cauterized.

BBC News is running an article called "How did we forget about mutually assured destruction?" It has instilled within me a nearly uncontrollable desire to watch Dr Strangelove and has also reignited the desire to head toward the greener pastures of a Masters in Modern History.
This comes on a day that I was contemplating my future in a particularly boring segment of the commute, the tedious area between Finchley Road and Baker Street where the train often hilariously decides to slow down to a crawl within a series of tunnels much to the mirth and agonising dissatisfaction of the London-bound commuters. It was here that I attempted to piece together the future I have ahead of me, looking slightly further than lunchtime which is often where my foresight ends. I decide to correlate prospective careers along with the degree of facial hair that would be acceptable. The business world holds no sway over me and barely allows for the vaguely tame and groomed beard that currently reigns over my chin. I have never contemplated a job in business, it had never even crossed my mind that this is where my life should go, yet I seem to be heading to a job in sales at a company owned by RBS? A strange turn of events. The academic community, where beards are rumoured to be magnificent, bushy creations that God himself would be envious of, seemed the most logical choice. I started dwelling on what I'd specialise in and descended once again into the world of Cold War and Civil Defence, I could personify the paradox of a Modern Historian? But what about the money? The sheer financial implications of questing toward a Masters are overwhelming hideous. The more money I earn, the more I realise how little I have. Teaching, where beards seem to lay equidistant from the business and academic facial scruffs, once again became an option. I could teach? But having witnessed the swarms of bastards that the country seems to be producing at an unseemly rate, do I want to? Perhaps I could turn them into human beings? It would be like the Dead Poets Society accept Wilson won't die and I won't become an alcoholic. At this point we arrived at Baker Street, I cranked up the Djent and was swept underground by a tide of commuters.
I struggle to remember when I last updated, thought I remember it featured a Fight Club analogy and a sweeping political tirade. The weekend, as weekends are wont to do, did not go to plan. Rather than attend a birthday celebration with Elise on my arm, I spent Saturday night in bed, occasionally hurling the contents of my stomach into the toilet and always clutching my head in a vague attempt to keep the pain at bay. I slept for thirteen hours and had my eyes closed in a dark room for even longer. It wasn't a nice way to spend an evening, especially when the original plan involved Elise and not being in agonizing pain.
Sunday was a nicer day, the pain had subsided and I spent the better parts of the day with Elise. I introduced her to The Crow, a movie I adore and that she has never seen, and we spent the evening doing very little. I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

Sleep and Politics

Friday, February 10, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Louisa: Nothing disney has taught me has come true apart from beastiality, I sadly found out that was true

The prevailing feature of this week has been tiredness. I would rise from a broken slumber and attempt to leave the confines of the mattress which usually resulted in me slumping back down into the embrace of the duvet while staring at the ceiling wondering why I was struggling to get up. Each morning I would swear to myself and which ever deity had stumbled into earshot that I would go to bed early and catch up on sleep. Each night I failed to achieve this due to a combination of Skyrim and a general inability to convert sleep in to a sense of untired. Regardless of how much I sleep, whether it's four hours or eight hours or twelve hours, I still wake up exhausted to my very core. Perhaps I have a Tyler Durden of my very own? Perhaps a bearded, more confident version of me is out there nightly reeking havok upon a society that loathes me and boning Helena Bonham Carter in a crack den. Probably not that and I hope not; I love my girlfriend and I don't want to be on Tim Burton's bad side.
I'm sure society doesn't loathe me anyway, it seems foolish trying to explain my lack of sleep on such little evidence. The closest I have right now to a "dream job" is a "job I can do while listening to music". Some people want to change the world, others don't care as long as Clutch are playing loudly while tasks unfold infront of them. I'd change the world if I could; I'm political aware enough to know the perfect political system but unfortunately I'm also sociologically aware enough to know that humanity as a whole are selfish, corruptible and basically bastards. The one weak link in any political theory is that it relies on man to work. Mankind is one generation away from a utopia. It takes one generation to take one for the team and go without, take the risk and thrust the world forward into better places. The very fallibility of man makes any seemingly perfect ideology buckle. I'm a socialist, I believe the world would be an infinitely better place under a system of socialism or even Communism, but they just aren't viable with our nature. A better phrase may be "I'm a socialist realist" perhaps? Unfortunately my views of socialism are seen through a fog comprised of my deep-seated animosity to the majority of mankind. I honestly don't understand how some people function. I can't fathom how people can go through life and not question the world around them. I can't comprehend the mind of a racist or the people who justify or even sympathise with gang culture. I don't understand blind patriotism. I don't understand how people can stunt the very progress of mankind because of superstition and dogma. I don't understand how an entry started with me discussing my lack of sleep and ended in a political tract recanting mankind. I'm sorry about that. It's probably best I stop talking.

It's Time To Play The Music

Monday, February 06, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
James: I've always wanted to be a cat in a dressing gown with fire for hands while simultaneously teabagging the king and eating mammoth cheese. Love this game.

I'm going to jump right in to the main issue of this blog: The Muppets, the new muppets movie from our favourite Henson creations, is now one of my favourite movies. It was charming without being patronizing, it was aware of itself without lulling into self-deprecation and parody, it was heart warming, intelligent, witty and feature many, many a cameo including perhaps one of the greatest cameos I have witnessed in recent years, though I shan't spoil this for those of you who haven't watched it yet. I'm not actually sure what my favourite cameo would be, infact right now I struggle to name any other than Danny Glover in Maverick - I did enjoy that cameo, you have got to love destroying the fourth wall.
What made the cinema experience even better was the company and the location in which it was enjoyed with. I got to share the movie with Elise at the Prince Charles Cinema. I honestly can't think of a better way to watch the movie and I doubt I would have gone if I couldn't have been with her, it just wouldn't have been the same. The Prince Charles Cinema is a spectacular place. Not only were the seats incredibly comfortable but everyone in the audience were movie fans. Nothing quite beats a room full of people laughing and applauding and enjoying a movie together in a way you can't replicate outside of an independent cinema where everyone seems that little bit more reserved. Everyone there was there to enjoy The Muppets, and that we did.
The rest of the day depends on your viewpoint, depending on how you view events the day either went spectacularly not to plan or incredible adhered to the very letter of what was set out. We had originally intended to get Chinese for lunch, which we didn't do as Chinatown was a cold, barren wasteland at the hour of noon; then we would go and see The Muppets, which we did; then we would go to Reading, which we didn't do as transport chaos was prophesied due to impending snow; in Reading we would go to Old Orleans for dinner, which we couldn't have done anyway as it was closed, instead we went to Pangs and ate our combined body weight in assorted chinese food and then the night was going to be round off with a Reel Big Fish gig, which we never made it to, instead we watched Drive with a bag of Haribo while in each others arms. If you say the plan of the day however as "have an incredible day with the love of your life" then I'd say the day was an astounding success.
In other news: I'm going to attempt to record an acoustic song complete with vocals. There is a good chance this song will never reach the light of day once recorded, but I feel I owe existence to the song I have written. Well, right now it has no lyrics, but that can be resolved fairly quickly. All I need is a pen, paper and a strike of inspiration.
I'm sure there is more I could right about, including Jesse Leach rejoining Killswitch Engage, but all I want and need to do right now is sleep. So sleep I shall.

Not Dead Island

Thursday, February 02, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Nate: Same. Any murderous rampage I go on in my future life I will attribute to that moment, and blame George R.R Martin for his reckless disregard for his best character

I'm in a hideously foul mood so thought I'd rant a while on here in an attempt to exorcise my demons.
Great Magazine have finally sent me something, this something is distinctly not Dead Island. I won't be receiving the averagely-reviewed, zombie-orientated extravaganza as Great Magazine have ran out of stock; permanently. In an all too brief phone conversation with a manager I was informed that I could pick from a number of other "free gifts", none of these free gifts involved zombies so I felt somewhat disheartened. They offered me some items of a lacoste nature, Green Lantern on blu-ray along with a Green Lantern tshirt and a graphic novel or a "limited edition Bane". Now I have no idea what a limited edition Bane is, perhaps it was incredible but I'm fairly sure it was simply an issue of Empire with a limited edition cover. I opted for the Green Lantern bundle. Though it doesn't involve zombies, it was the best choice given the three options I was presented with and in the end I should, should being the word that needs to be stressed, be acquiring Assassin's Creed 3 soon. This stress is needed as I should have received Dead Island three and a half months ago, but apparently life sometimes does not go to plan.
The Green Lantern bundle arrived yesterday. I tore open the packaging, unfolded the contents and was greeted by Green Lantern: Emerald Knights and a t-shirt that appears to have a sparkly Hal Jordan on. The Green Lantern isn't twilight. The Green Lantern is no place for sparkles. Now Emerald Knights was a straight-to-video cartoon, a cartoon that features the voice of Nathan Fillion, but is distinctly not Green Lantern on blu ray. I appreciate the voice of Nathan Fillion, I wish it would narrate aspects of my life and would probably make work a more enjoyable atmosphere, but after four months of being promised delivery of various things only for them not to arrive and then to have the one thing actually delivered not be what I was told it would be was the final nail in the coffin. I proclaimed "fuck this" to noone in particular and sat in bed watching 24. Under the cool, Jack Bauer observing façade, bubbled seething anger. I'm now stuck between wanting to strike down upon them with great vengeance and furious anger and giving up on even hoping for them to pull through in anyway. Perhaps if my expectations are low enough, everything will be a pleasant surprise? For someone who's supposed to represent a magazine specialising in films they should really learn to describe movies better.
Tuesday, as a day, was uneventful. You can probably write my day yourself, although if you choose this option please write a decent Sean Bean reference. He deserves one.
The next day was somewhat more eventful. After work I walked to Camden, a decision I made for the sole reason that on the train I can't phone Elise. In Camden I meant Dan Flanagan, a man I haven't seen since graduation. We discussed music and the downfall of society before we parted ways so Lee and I could eat a burger and go witness Four Year Strong. We missed the first support band but caught Don Broco (a band who pronounced their name differently every time they name dropped themselves) and A Loss For Words (a band who covered "I Want You Back" by the Jackson 5). Four Year Strong didn't disappoint, even if some of their songs were indistinguishable from the album versions now that they have ousted their keyboard player. Upon leaving we brought ice cream, it may have been -1 but after gigs we get ice cream - tradition cares not for weather.
I apologise now if this rant was unreadable - it was written while watching the Rum Diary and through a haze of seething fury and a desire for justice. Hunter S Thompson only serves to remind me that I can't write. I need to write more. Rambling, though entertaining, often ends up disjointed and generally lacks in both meaning and syntax. I need to write more. I need to write better. I need to present the world with literary genius that will reduce them to tears. The wonderful inspiration that is Hunter S Thompson, all I need now is a pint of raw ether.

Day 7 - Favourite

Favourite? Really? Consider that done thirty day challenge, I have had enough of your vagueness. Instead I shall google a random phrase from my blog and post whichever picture images thrusts into my life.

Roots, Rock, Wycombe

Monday, January 30, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Elise: Malfoy is a cunt to those Apes

Today I spent half an hour reading about the European honeybee. I believe this sums up my day better than a dramatic overview would. Can you imagine how low my motivation must have been in order to fuel such a reading extravaganza? As interesting as Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD) is, I had better things to be doing with my time. But the allure of the bee was overpowering. That insectual fiend.
Over the past few days I have met Benji Webbe twice. Our first meeting was in London where I stumbled upon our favourite Welsh reggae superstar while on a quest for Romulan Ale - a phrase I never thought I'd use. I made my way to Forbidden Planet and outside I found Skindred. I was not expecting this. I introduced myself, informed them that they were awesome and then departed. Our next encounter occurred at the after party of their gig in Wycombe, this makes it sound a lot more elaborate and VIP-esque than the meeting really was - the after party was open to everyone who attended the gig. He recognised me though, which was fairly awesome.
Meeting Benji twice was hardly the highlight of my weekend however. Being in Wycombe with Elise safely takes this title. I retreated there from work on Friday and spent the entire week with her, a series of films, a bottle of sprite and a Skindred gig. The Saturday night, the night of Skindred, was a hideously good night. I haven't been out drinking in quite some time, and the last few times some form of something has always reared it's ugly head and ruined the night in some form. This didn't happen that night. It was one of the best nights out I've had in a considerable time.
Aside from bees my time at work also brought confusion. It was cold. Very cold. Usually I like the cold, it makes me feel vaguely like a Stark and therefore makes me feel, pardon the pun, cool. I imagine Direwolves and mead and haunches of meat. A maintenance man then appeared, as if from nowhere, and proclaimed to us that we were cold. I appreciated this verification, I wasn't certain whether me not feeling my toes was due to the temperatures or due to some form of stroke, luckily this genius was on hand to solve my woes. He then informed us, rather enigmatically, that the reason we were so cold was because "the office was designed to have walls". Thanks maintenance man, that did us the world of good.
I'm now a third of the way through Season Two of 24 and, although I love the programme, I have two fairly big issues with the whole charade. Firstly, for a programme called 24 it uses a 12 hour clock. Secondly, it has ruined Kiefer Sutherland films for me. I watched a fairly strange film called "Melancholia", a film that was about depression, a rogue planet that may be on a collision course with Earth (that isn't mentioned for the first hour of the film), Kirsten Dunst's boobs and a wedding. The only problem is that Kiefer Sutherland plays a prominent role in the film. When the world is faced with destruction and a large planet is seen in the sky, possibly about to bring the world into a premature state of apocalypse, and the person you see surveying the scene is Jack Bauer it is had to take the threat seriously. A rogue planet doesn't stand a chance against Jack Bauer.

Day 6 - Makes You Happy

Now this picture makes me happy for a number of reasons, primarily because it is a memento of yet another lovely evening spent with the marvellous girlfriend but secondly it's also photographic evidence at how incredible nachos are. I don't know who it was who decided to put tortilla chips together with cheese but this man (or woman) deserve medals, lands and the finest steed in the land.

You Are Feeling Sleepy

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Father: I found an arrowhead and have an urge to disembowel someone... unless I get clubbed to death by Indians first.

The above was in reference to a strange motion picture Father and I viewed yesterday. It was called "Valhalla Rising" and was from the visionary mind that brought you Bronson and Drive. Words fail to convey just how strange this film was. There were 120 lines of dialogue, the main character didn't have a single one of them and the whole thing played like some form of acid trip or a pretty severe cheese-induced nightmare.
The past two days have been tiring. I haven't done anything different, the days were no more strenuous than any other day, but the lifestyle of dragon-slaying and tea drinking appears to have caught up with me and I succumbed to drowsiness. I nearly fell asleep at work, I nearly fell asleep on the train and I contemplated curling into a ball under a bush on the way home and it terrifies me how seriously I thought about it. Infact the only time I wasn't tired was when I was laying in bed attempting to actually sleep. My body was mocking me.
Father had a job interview today, a position as warden or something along those lines at Windsor Great Park, upon returning home he informed us that, if he were to get the job, they'd provide a house for him to live in. This house can only be described as a gay, pink castle.

Impressive right? Even if it looks like something from Balamory it's still a castle. A pink castle is better than no castle, that's what I always say.
Certus Sales Recruitment finally got back to me today. They're the ones who told me I had been successful in my interview for a company only for them to then not contact me again regarding the follow up interview. I sent them weekly emails after they phoned me telling me I was successful and sent sporadic emails asking what had happened and for an explanation before finally complaining. Each time I threatened to complain I got a swift reply. Everything else fell on deaf ears. Today however I finally got an email which utterly shifted the blame on to me. They told me they had tried contacting me - which they hadn't - and basically insisted it was my fault rather than them not doing their jobs. This has really annoyed me - annoyed me enough that I won't even rant about how GreatMagazine STILL haven't sent me my free gift(s). All I wanted was an apology and an explanation as to what went wrong. That was all. Not some bullshit about how he isn't "interested in a blame culture". Fuck them. A trained monkey could do their job and I'm not even talking about the Planet Of The Apes monkey or even the one from Jay and Silent Bob Strikes Back. I'm talking about a stereotypical, run of the mill monkey. A monkey that can't even grasp sign language properly but instead sits their eating and flinging his excrement at people. That's all they've done. They gave me a job interview and then flung shit my way. If you ever apply to a job advert and it turns out to be placed by Certus please send them my regards before hanging up on them. I should have realised when I went for the initial interview at their Twyford office that Certus were a company that wasn't worth my time. They had a bored of motivational quotes on the wall, many spelt wrong, and one of them was from O J Simpson. He didn't have the go-getter attitude I think the business world needs. as nice as a quote may be, you still need to bare in mind the context of who actually said it.Its like the quote "Words build bridges into unexplored regions." It seems quite philosophical - through our words we can open our lives to new possibilities and access places, both literally and metaphorical - that we never dreamed of entering. Adolf Hitler said that though. Regardless of how philosophical you may take it, I doubt it'll be put on a framed poster somewhere.
In summation. Avoid Certus like you would the plague or a street fundraiser.
I must now crack open Season 2 of 24 and enjoying the further adventures of Jack Bauer.

Day 5 - Something You Wore

A Murderous Tangent

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Louisa: So we need to start saving up so we can open our own GoT themed cafe... just think mead shots for you coffee

I'd like to start this blog by talking about serial killers. I was halfway through an introduction - the usual spiel involving nerd references and a general hint toward what the blog would feature - this however has been changed due to a conversation I just had with my father.
My father was scrolling through our Sky Planner and found a programme about an American Serial Killer called Gary Ridgway an American trucker who confessed to murdering 71 women. My father commented that he believed this was the highest number of victims attributed to a serial killer and I promptly corrected him and told him this was bollocks. I withdrew to wikipedia to bolster my claim and discovered a list ranking serial killers by the number of victims they had dispatched in to the netherworld. On top of this particular list was a Colombian man called Luis Alfredo Garavito who has been found guilty of killing 138 people and was sentenced to 1853 years in prison which was reduced to 30 due to the legal fact that sentencing a man to 1853 years in prison doesn't seem to make much sense - a man who kills 138 children though doesn't particular deserve sense and should rot in a prison for 1853 years, but I digress. This jail sentence was then reduced to 22 years. I'll let that sink in. That is a sentence of just under 55 days per murder.
I'm not entirely sure how the world can operate like that? It makes me feel vaguely sickened. Killing 138 people, mostly children, is bad enough. But being punished with 55 days per murder cheapens the very concept of existence.
Also, for the record - Harold Shipman topped the overall list with 218. Makes you proud to be British.
My weekend was spent in Wycombe and although I was in ill health and ended up suffering a fairly horrific migraine, the weekend was still really quite lovely. We spent practically the whole weekend in bed watched Viva La Bam, Fringe, Castle and The Dudesons. It was a weekend I really needed, just relaxing with Elise and not having to worry about anything other than where the next cup of tea was going to come from.
I have accepted the job from Tracker, should be starting the end of February. Words can't describe how happy I am about working closer to home and the lack of a commute should take a fairly large burden off of my shoulders and make the weekdays somewhat more relaxed. Hopefully the temp position will become a fulltime position and I can surf the wave of employment until I actually figure out what I want to do with myself.

Day 4 - Letterbox?

The fourth day of this thirty challenge was entitled "Letterbox." I'm unsure as to what this actually means so have instead placed a picture of my night. I drank mead, listened to Turisas and slayed dragons.

Infections And Prospects

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day \
Mother: I believe you. Thousands wouldn't.

I awoke in pain. This isn't a nice way to wake up and ranks quite high in my list of "ways I don't want to wake up" - a list that includes "to find Dain's dad staring at me" and "in a puddle, in a cupboard". I opted to take the day of work and make my way towards the nearest medicine man, a journey that resulted in antibiotics and a diagnosis of "that's quite infected".
The rest of the day was spent in bed recovering and working my way through the last half of 24. It took me eleven years to finally get around to watching it, but I have now and I am glad that I have. The only issue with 24 I have is that my internal monologue has changed and is now somewhat more dramatic. Jack Bauer is the bomb.
Other important news also reared it's head today and has presented me with an important decision. Tracker called with good news and bad news - the bad news being that I they were giving the position I interviewed for to another candidate but the good news, which is particularly good, is that they wanted to offer me one of the temporary positions on the other team, a position that will hopefully transform into a permanent position in the future. If they're fine with me starting the beginning of March, which is the soonest I could start, then I can't see why I shouldn't take it. I'm a temp now, may as well be a temp for better money and closer to home. Should I risk the prospects of a more enjoyable job? Or would I just be fooling myself? Who knows. What would Jack Bauer do?

Day 3 - Something You Adore

Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots: The Movie

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Lauren: My boss said you were very articulate and that you looked like Dave Grohl."

The National are a distinctly depressing band. Depressing to the point that they make Radiohead sound like Bob Marley. I am not depressed, I am a happy person. I have a lot to be happy for; I have a beautiful girlfriend, I am slowly eating away at my overdraft, I have a 24 Boxset and an endless supply of tea. But, with all this happiness coursing through my veins, I still can't stop listening to the song "About Today". If anything it comments on how happy I am, if I were anyway depressed I think this song would end me. The only thing recently to sap happiness from my being was "Real Steel", my commuting movie of choice for Wednesday. Real Steel truly is a terrible film. I can't name a single redeeming feature for it and it achieved the impossible - it made giant, fighting robots lame. I have never hidden my disdain toward the Transformers series, but the robots are still awesome. Regardless of the terrible acting, the more writing, the predictable "plot" and the poor direction, the fighting robots were still incredible.
Today brought a job interview, which was probably the defining feature of the past few days which contained little more than resentment toward the underground and phoning businessfolk, and this interview went well. Lauren, who works at the company already, informed me shortly after that my Dave Grohl-esque appearance was appreciated and mentioned abundantly upon my departure. This can only be a good sign. You could say... I've got to Grohl with it.

Day 2 - Breakfast

Donuts and The End Of Magic

Monday, January 16, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Callum: Remember when we spent a whole afternoon boozing and coming up with historically relevant porn movies? I like to think of it as an afternoon that defined my time at university.

I was missing Elise this week, I dislike how Wycombe steals her from me during the term, and this week I missed her a lot. That basically sums up my week. I went to work and I missed Elise. Luckily for me and the concept of missing, Elise returned to Uxbridge and we spent our Friday night eating a bountiful supply of unhealthy substances and watching The Deathly Hallows. We have now competed our magical task and I can now say, with the forces of knowledge standing behind my answer, that it is a distinctly average series and as Fantasy goes it falls into the category of "Not Lord Of The Rings" which, in turn, places it firmly in the realms of "Not Game of Thrones".
The rest of the week was spent supervising Elise completing university work. This involved the arduous and tiresome task of staying in bed and watching House. The things I do for my Koala. It was a really nice weekend actually, her work is coming along really well and it was good to see the incredible things she is coming up with. It was also good to watch half of Season One of House. We also watched The Troll Hunter, a glorious Norwegian film which I heartily recommend to fans of world cinema, trolls and Scandinavia.
Wycombe, being the bitch it is, stole Elise from me again which thrust me once more into the real world of the commute. I loathe the commute. Luckily, due to the wonders that are iPhone apps, the commute has become somewhat more bearable as I can now watch films on the train. The choice today was Warrior, Rocky with MMA and written by someone from a broken home. A very good film actually made me contemplate buying the sports channels to watch more MMA. Upon returning home I attempted to kickstart exercise. This went well, to an extent. I can't do anything like I used to. Have had to drop a weight from the dumbbells, couldn't do as many sit-ups as I used to. Need to get the routine back, can't let the knock to the esteem this has produced keep me from pursuing health and all the wonderment of not be a doughy, bearded swine. Seriously, I'm so doughy that it makes me hungry.

The Thirty Day Photo Challenge
Day 1: You

2011 - The Overdue Summary

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Puddy: "Wah wah, I had a bad dream, wah wah Padme love me, wah wah, unresolved Oedipus complex made all the more complex by sand people, wah wah"

Ian's Quote O'The Year
Murray: Is it just me or does Michael Cera look like a really sick monkey?

DRINKING BUDDY OF THE YEAR?
See below. Days with them often became evenings which became drunken lazing around Park Bar which became Nate getting overly drunk, talking about JFK, and nearly breaking tables.

NEWCOMER AWARD - NEWEST FRIEND
It can only be Nate and Callum, our countless days sat in Mojos quoting Anchorman at each other over pitchers of beer and platters of burgers were some of the best days university presented me with, obviously the fact it was the last segment of my last year was annoying. Meeting them a lot earlier would have been a lot better. The swine.

HIGH POINT OF THE YEAR?
Realising my Graduate robe could be used like a Jedi robe

LOW POINT OF THE YEAR?
Realising that regardless of whether I wear a robe or not - I'll never be a Jedi.

BEST HOLIDAY?
"Download was really the closest to an experience I had this year that counts anywhere near a holiday and even then that is a stretch of a definition" - depressingly enough, last years comment still stands.

ANTHEM FOR 2011?
Anything from "A T-Rex vs 10 Gorillas" by Brannigan's Law (did you really think I'd say anything else?)

ANY REGRETS?
Regrets? I've had a few.

BEST NIGHT OUT?
Lying in a field with a crate of beer watching South Park on a giant outdoor cinema screen was a pretty epic night out.

WHO DID YOU SPEND VALENTINES WITH THIS YEAR?
I'm fairly sure Valentines Day was on a Monday which meant I spent it alone in a library reading books about the Sixties, romantic right?

BEST RELATIONSHIP OF THE YEAR?
Elise and I, this will be my answer every year.

BEST DECISION MADE THIS YEAR?
Not buying the Star Wars Blu Rays. I would rant, but why rant when I can link?

WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR?
Acquire money, go away with Elise somewhere and spoil her senseless in which ever foreign country I romantically drag her to and make 2012 a perfect year for her and hopefully figure out what I actually want to do with my life and figure a way of moving toward this.

MOST STUPID IDEA WHEN DRUNK?
The infamous "Night Of The Duel Kebabs". I don't want to explain, I still feel dirty.

TWAT OF THE YEAR?
See here. It did lead to a lovely song though

MOST LOYAL FRIEND?
Again, I shall point out how I loathe the phrase "loyal", as my definition all friends should surely be loyal? Anyway, I couldn't have got through this year, or university without the combined efforts of Louisa, Rea Rea and Tash. Thank you all.

BIGGEST CHANGE OF THE YEAR?
I started the year without a degree and ended the year with one, you don't get much bigger than that.

The Poor War

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Nick: I'm assuming at least some of the current government cuts are for economic reasons - otherwise they'd just be sci-fi villians

I now own Season One through Six of House on DVD. Some may say the DVD is a dying medium and to them I say "yes, yes it probably is". But DVD will always float around, Blu-Ray players will always be backwards compatible and most television hitting the market now can improve a DVD signal to look suitable on a high definition television and as much as I love House as a TV programme it isn't one that needs to be seen in crisp 1080p. DVD is a media spectre that shall never be exorcised and I stand by my decision that nobody actually questioned. Game Of Thrones on Blu-ray however is vital to my well being and shall be preordered post-haste.
With Elise back in Wycombe my days have become the usual parade through a list of phone numbers interspersed with tweeting my politic views and whatever nerdy reference I am thinking of at the time. My particular political view of this week was summed up in less than 140 characters as so "One day people will differentiate between cuts being made in an economic crisis and hating poor people. This will be a good day for politics". I felt this didn't need an explanation and my meaning was clear - I was wrong. I was generally annoyed that people were interpreting all the cuts and increases the Tories do as being to kill the poor rather than the more obvious explanation that "we are going through one of the worst economic eras of fuck since the thirties. Turns out people interpreted this Conservative-friendly tweet as a sign that I believe Cameron and his band of Tories are waging a war on the poor, a war they are fighting out of a seething hatred for the lower classes. This annoyed me to the point I felt like I had to blog about it. I would rant further but I am tired and I want to watch House.
Okay Season 1 has grey bars at the side because the aspect ratio doesn't match the TV and I adamantly refuse to use the zoom feature. I however stand by my decision. House is worth it.
I also own a Star Wars ice cube tray.

A Lot Of Magic

Monday, January 09, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Week
Elise: It's okay he gets to ski on the cheese... On the moon

The Korean Film that I am watching as I type this has started with an outlaw stealing a Tesla Coil. I am struggling to think of a finer way for a film to begin. Indiana Jones before his fridge nuking days never attempted to steal a Tesla Coil, the sure awesomeness frightened him off. Perhaps if it was Jesus' Tesla Coil he could have gone for it, but alas, we shall never see our favourite Archaeologist steal a coil from a frightened Nikolai. The only thing that would perhaps be cooler than even this would be if Tesla was played by David Bowie, like the Prestige but with more Koreans and/or Indiana Jones. I feel perhaps I ask too much from life? I'll settle for a Mandolin.
This week Elise and I have watched far too much Harry Potter. Six films in total. Six films of the finest actors Britain has ever produced juxtaposed with three actors who would struggle to act their way out of a paper bag. I have seen rocks display more angry than Mr Radcliffe can, I have seen trees laugh more convincingly than Emma Watson and Rupert Grint is the best actor of the trio, though he could be in a coma and this still be true, is still somewhat vexed when attempting to play anything more serious than the bumbling fool. It doesn't help that they're constantly alongside Gary Oldman or Alan Rickman or Richard Harris or Michael Gambon or Jim Broadbent or Maggie Smith or Ralph Fiennes or Helena Bonham Carter or Rhys Ifans or Maggie Smith or John Hurt or that elf who looks a lot like Vladimir Putin. Saying this, I loathe them a lot less than I used too. Infact I am growing quite fond of them even if I do spend half of the films lamenting the poor acting and selective amnesia that seems to blight the wizarding word. In tough situations they seem to forget that they are wizards. Perhaps use a spell? Maybe the one you learnt last movie? Or did none of that happen? I realise a lot is going on in their world, but Hermione entire character is based on a near Rain Man level of knowledge retention and what about the adults? One movie the wizarding community refuses to believe Harry and Dumbledore that Voldemort has returned! What a perilous situation! If only their was someway they could ascertain whether they were telling the truth? Like say, a truth potion or a bowl that will let you see memories?
Aside from watching a lot of wizards and discovering that the train I was on stopped in the thirties, I spent a lot of time with Elise who has now departed back to her University abode. This upsets me greatly. Not only does it mean that the Deathly Hallows and Trollhunter must wait until next weekend, but it means she isn't here. I don't like her not being here. Though we have intermittent dark moments, everything was going so very well when she was back, it was a lovely few weeks and I don't particular want Wycombe to bring an end to them. I'll be having harsh words with Wycombe. I really do love her. She's funny, passionate, artistic, caring, beautiful and understands Star Wars reference. What more could I possibly want?
We also spent some time with Louisa, Tash and pizza. These three made good company, particular the pizza, and we all wasted away a few hours in Pizza Hut. We got on to the conversation of "who we keep in contact with from university". Louisa seemed to name a list longer than my "people I talked to AT university" list and for a brief moment I felt the sharp pain of having wasted university away and then I realised we had unlimited salad, so I went to the buffet and all was well. We also got a free pizza as Pizza Hut fucked up, which was nice.

MM

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Ian's Quote O'The Festive Season
Father: He has more chance of splitting the atom than getting with that bartender

As usual this year, Christmas occurred in Devon. It was greeted by the masses of old people and pasty-lovers with reckless abandon and the countryside roared with festive cheer as the ale ran like rivers and the turkeys were culled in genocidal numbers. The difference this year was that I was amidst the fields and Devon-folk. The Harries Clan bid farewell to the city and headed to the countryside to stay with Nan and enjoy the festive festivities that such a family-fuelled event held. We journeyed to the town of Honiton, a town that consists pretty much of a single high street that is traversable in a handful of seconds yet contains five antique shops. If you angle yourself right and have some form of spyglass then you could probably see the all and the "Boston Tea Party" which, as a history student, I must point out is a hideous name for a café.
After exploring the town Father, Brother and I returned to the town in search of a pub. We found one, but after having our table stolen - it literally disappeared - and learning that a reggae band were about to kick off in the corner we moved to another pub. After sitting in a table that coincidently was next to a ceramic bottle of ginger beer from Llanelli we were quickly set upon by a metal fan intent on discussing music, his new found loathing for Slipknot and his Slipknot tattoo.
Christmas was as turkey filled as ever - I received a number of musical items (predominately pedals) which I shan't bore you with the details of on where they shall be placed in my new "Set Up Of Awesome Win" and The Walking Dead compendium that houses issues 1-48 of our favourite zombie series of which I read 24 before Turkey and a nap.
Upon returning home I headed to Elises where I was greeted by a dwarf being hit in the balls with a tennis ball. I feel this needs some elaboration and an explanation of context but where would the fun in that be? Christmas brought a lot of time with Elise, time that was incredible and awesome and involved a lot of Sons of Anarchy. We spent practically every day and night together and the days utterly flew past.
The big event for me however was the Barfly. Earlier this year we promised ourselves that before 2012 reared it's ugly head we would play the Barfly. On Friday we not only played but headlined. It was incredible; we had our own dressing room complete with a supply of free beer (that was quickly drained), the guitarist from Deaf Havana as a sound engineer, our name in bold on posters and a bigger turn out than I expected (especially considering that arguable the biggest band laying - Death Remains - hadn't promoted the event past a single status on the day of the event claiming falsley that it was a last minute gig. Lies). Aside from an amp that exploded and a band of douches who ignored gig etiquette and fiddled with the settings on my amp without consulting me, the evening was spectacularly awesome and ended with Elise falling asleep on the train. Lawson is entering the last few months of his masters, Summer 2012 will be ours.

New Years Eve was spent at Elises, an event that unfolded with all the wonderment we have grown to expect from a party hosted by her. Apache was danced too, much alcohol was drank and a good time was had by all in attendance. What was perhaps more awesome than either our domination at the Barfly or the sheer alcoholic fury of a New Years Eve party was the fact that Elise baked Pasties for my lunch at work. Could she get any further into the realms of perfection? Because I struggle to think how she could.

This is my 2000th blog entry. The first was back in April 2005 which is now six and a half years ago. Terrifying isn't it? It is equally parts infuriating, hilarious and interesting tracing the developments of me; seeing with hindsight what I saw as problems and what I can now fairly succinctly figure out how to resolve. If I could send back a letter I am positive I could have resolved a lot of my issues with two sentences - three if I allow myself to insult myself but I doubt I'd put up with that shit, not from me. The blog started as something read by one person in an IT room before slowly spreading across a number of people - I still have no idea who reads it and have even less of an idea how some people have found it. It's caused troubles and woes but has also helped me through a lot of things. Sometimes writing things down really does help you to conceptualise and think about things. Who knows where I'd be without the blog all I know for sure is I wouldn't be able to remember a lot of things.
Who knows, maybe there's another 2000 entries in me but at the current rate of blogging this will probably take longer than six and a half years which, again, is terrifying. I have no idea where I'll be then, I have no idea where I want to be then. Perhaps I would have finally written that book? Be settled in a house coated in movie posters and items of a nerd nature. In a job I enjoy? A postgraduate? A superhero? Some kind of owl? Sean Bean?
Who knows, but I hope it's the latter.

Band Practices 2, Voice 0

Friday, December 23, 2011

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Dan: Why is it, when you see a fit women, and you think "God I would plough her until her other speaks German" but then you realise you said it out loud, and then she calls the police and then you go to prison because this isn't the first time its happened and then you get bummed in the shower by a big black man called sue, but he likes it when you call him Big Bear...

A week today the Law descends upon the Barfly and a strange sense of excitement mixed with stomach turning apprehension has set up home in the pits of my being. In preparations for this stunning display of musical fury I have selflessly destroyed my voice. Two band practices in three days has left my throat somewhat worse for wear, but I am a man and a man must persevere - even if I will be persevering somewhat quieter than usual.
The price of Masters has increased by approximately a lot since I last researched such exploits and this discovery has thrown another spanner into the "what do I do with my life" though process. I'm not sure financially if doing this next year would be the best choice, my finances are currently far from ideal and I doubt whether I could even survive the year without first taking another year to prepare my bank for the blow. Plus the extra year may hopefully spur some form of epiphany wherein I discover what I actually want from life. Spending £4500 on a Masters only then to uncover that my true calling in life resides in caring for elephants seems foolish and I don't wish to be foolish - especially if it costs me over four thousand pounds.
I'll figure it out at some point. Elise has been hideously helpful with my indecisive and generally confused vision for my future and with her help I am positive I can conclude my philosophical journey soon.
All this however can wait until after Christmas.

Dear Leader

Monday, December 19, 2011

Ian's Quote O'The Days
Nate: The news are reporting that Kim Jong-Il is dead. He worked rearry hard, and made up great prans, but nobody ristened, no one understands.

Today North Korea drowned in a sea of tears as news made it's way to our shores that the world had lost yet another tyrant. That is right; Kim Jong-Il has left this plane of existence and gone to join the great dictatorship in the sky. I however am not sad, the world may be on the edge of diplomatic disaster, the political atmosphere may be strenuous and people may be slowly making their way towards the bomb shelters but I can't help but think that the world has lost a great man. I mean, Kim Jong-Il could use telekinesis to control the weather, set worldwide fashion trends, he invented the hamburger, he was the greatest golfer in history and his very birth spontaneously triggered a change in seasons and rainbows and a bright star appeared in the sky. The world really is a little bit less batshit insane today. This also means that my new favourite website is now Kim Jong-Un Looking At Things.
Aside from the death of a tyrant and a new favourite website the past week has brought many things. I now have someone to sit next to at work, which brings an end to a good month of sitting alone at a computer. She is only there until the 8th January, but two weeks with company is better than another month without anyone to talk to apart from a very, very quiet man and a very, very angry Chinese lady. It has also heralded in the Christmas holiday and two workless weeks in which to play guitar, prepare for the Barfly gig, see Elise and watch as much Sons of Anarchy and 24 as I possibly can. Sons of Anarchy is an incredible TV show, even if it does star Hellboy, Turanga Leela and Not Elijah Wood From Green Street. It has made me, for the first time in my existence, contemplate a motorbike has a valid addition to my life rather than something that will only serve to whisk me away to an early appointment with the Grim Reaper.

730.484398 Days

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Tom: It also thinks Lando Calrissian is a panda and the optimal clothing for any situation is a soup.

I really need to stop being so negative. Assuming the worst outcome in any given situation is an exceedingly tiresome pastime and is generally sucking the fun out of existence - you can never fully enjoy yourself or "be in the moment" when you assume everything is somehow going to result in a broken bone and something ending up on fire. It has also lead to a near pathological distrust of locks. It's stopped me travelling, stopped me taking risks and I generally want this outlook to stop. Paradoxically to stop having this outlook will require the believe that it won't end badly which is something I struggle to believe at the best of times. If something can go wrong it will go wrong... and then explode.
The past week has brought an endless parade of phonecall and spreadsheets, an infinite stream of disgruntled businessmen and data entry and the sudden and near-uncontrollable urge for a donut. The past week also signalled something incredible - a milestone like no other.
Elise and I have been together for two years. Isn't that somewhat incredible? I am incredibly grateful for every hour we have spent together and hope for many more. We celebrated by eating nachos. They were good, glorious, world changing nachos.
The week also brought the news that The Law will be the recipients of a supply of beer at the Barfly gig - I acknowledge that this news does not warrant a place in the same realm of awesome as two years with Elise, but it is still awesome enough to merit a mention.

You Have No Idea How Alone You Are, Garfield

Thursday, December 08, 2011

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Louisa: I just managed to get one of my texts up onto textsfromlastnight, I may have a degree but this is definitely one of the proudest moments of my life.

The crowning achievement of my day was discovering the first season of 24 - a programme I am yet to watch which is apparently blasphemy in some circles - for £3.99. I have been warned that this shall turn me into a hermit but, to quote the wonderful Chris chun I "can be friends with Jack Bauer. Who needs any other friends."
Speaking of other friends, aside from Jack Bauer, today was spent at work and then in the company of Murray and a guitar. We proceeded to set the world to rights and then descend upon a particularly unLaw song and turn it into a glorious spectacle of Law based awesomeness. If all goes to plan this should be unveiled in the depths of Camden come New Years Eve Eve.
I should depart as I have to get to work for 845 which involves getting a train at 730, which involves leaving the house at 7 which involves waking up at 615 to cook sausages and a duck egg before drinking coffee and complaining that Breakfast television is an abhorrent blemish on the face of civilization.
I shall leave you with the following. I clicked on this link this morning and I was happy. After the minute it took to read it I was an empty shell of a man. Seriously:

http://www.garfield.com/comics/vault.html?yr=1989&addr=891023

Fast Food Crustaceans and Scientific Discoveries

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Puddy: Kepler 22 is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry. We will deal with your rebel scientists soon enough.

Science has discovered a planet. This planet is in the "habitable zone" of a star 600 light years away and goes by the lovely and catchy name of Kepler 22b. People went apeshit. It went from quickly from the "habitable zone" to "it could have water" to "it could have continents" to "it could have aliens and restaurants and small quaint bistros just on the outside of town on a nice square, you know far enough away from the general throng of tourists that it is still cheap but close enough that you can slowly walk there." Perhaps I let my imagination get to the better of me for that last quote, but the planet is 600 light years away, it may as well have small quaint bistros just on the outside of town on a nice square, you know far enough away from the general throng of tourists that it is still cheap but close enough that you can slowly walk there, for all the good it will do me. It is utterly fascinating that they have discovered such a planet, but what was more fascinating was the sheer stupidity that reared it's ugly head upon twitter in the hours following the announcement. I have seen a better grasp of reality and science from a broken rock.
Today was a day of discoveries it seemed. Not only has Kepler 22b entered our cosmos but I have discovered something even greater and perhaps more unexpected. McDonalds sells a McLobster. Upon reading this I thought it was a joke - a satirical parody on consumer culture - but it turned out to be fact: distinctly awesome fact. The downside is you can only buy it in Canada. The upside is that Canada is closer than Kepler 22b. One day I shall sample a McLobster and that shall be a fine day for the world.
I'm still utterly unsure of what to do with my life or the route I will take to the goal that I don't know. The only thing I have decided recently is that I shall watch more Harrison Ford movies. As constructive and fulfilling as this is I am starting to worry I'm letting my life slip away, an utterly preposterous thing for a twenty two year old to ponder, a fact I know but a fact I ignore. Surely I should have a plan by now? Do I want to be a teacher? A lecturer? A researcher? A university based mixture of both? A journalist? An author? A copywriter? Advertising Executive? Do I want to get a masters? A PhD? A PGCE? A Masters and a PGCE? Or do I plunge straight into whichever career I decided to go for? Do I take a year out to see how far a band can go, to write the book from the concept I have bouncing around my skull? Do I learn to sing and travel America with an acoustic guitar singing the blues? So many options... too many options. I'm going to get hold of Air Force One and The Fugitive.

Exiting Exit Ten

Ian's Quote O'The Day
Rea Rea: I've nearly finished Game Of Thrones. I'm so depressed.

The original plan for today was to make my way to Camden, attend Exit Ten and stumble home at a hideously unsociable hour before waking for work in the morning aching and sleep deprived.
Instead I had a bath. A bath to end all baths. A bath that seemed to bend time itself. Past, present and future merged into one glorious moment. I only released the length of said bath when the music stopped - my iphone had grown bored of the timeless nature of the event and hilariously drained itself of battery, midway through a particular epic Zappa solo. The silence snapped me to my senses and I released that I'd read close to a 100 pages of American Gods. I'm still not entirely sure how long I spent submerged, but I know four chapters disappeared into that timeless mass of water.
I have once again stumbled across an awesome idea for a story, an idea I am strangely excited about and one which I really hope to be able to write. I'm worried that, once again, I'll lack the drive to push myself forward. I'll write a chapter or two, comment on the sheer awesomeness of the idea, and then go back to drinking tea and playing Skyrim. I plan on filling a notebook with notes. It's going to be an epic to end all epics. A science fantasy journey of awe-inspiring proportions. It will make Game Of Thrones look like Harry Potter and Harry Potter look like The Worst Witch.