more than just a band?

#journalismstress has forced me to skim over everything (including news, ironically). That is why this blog post is going to be short - purely because I don't really have time for Perhaps a Letter anymore - I've got a shiny new blog designed to 'promote my professional online presence', check it (and follow. please.) at http://helenawilliamsonline.wordpress.com/ . Perhaps a Letter doesn't quite cut it in terms of professionalism you see.

To all you Londoners out there: have any of you been stopped in the street around Angel or Holloway Road and given a 'free'* cd with 'More Than Just A Band' printed on the cover, above a picture of a curly-haired bloke with a dog looking at some kind of musical vortex opening out of the earth?
*suggested donation follows

The back cover says "'More than just a band is a one hour documentary featuring an underground group of musicians and their friends who aren't satisfied with just making music... they've decided to take their lyrics to the next level. Follow the band, whose lifestyle and beliefs have inspired and enraged (huh?) the hearts of many, while capturing the attention of the world's media. Find out for yourslef why this band of radicals are causing such a stir... before they are pushed even further undeground!"

Exciting stuff. I'm a journo student and haven't heard about it at all (granted. I don't have time to read the news... but I still know what's going on in the world). As for causing a stir... fair play, I'm blogging about them - however when I googled them to get background info nothing of relevance came up. Maybe not that big a stir, I guess.

Hoping for some awesome radical underground music, I cracked it on my laptop - to find a rather long documentary on hippyish Christian types (most probably born again...) complete with some accoustic guitar and vocals tracks. I started watching the homemade doc - looks like someone was just fooling around with a camcorder - and watched 20 minutes of these guys' lifestyle before I got bored and moved on to something more relevant to my life. Although I gave it a go it wasn't really my cup of tea, I'm afraid.

However, watching it made me feel slightly uncomfortable, and I can't really put my finger on why that is. Is it because serious belief in religion is a foreign thing to me? I wouldn't say I'm strictly atheist, and I do sometimes wish I could believe in something so illogical and yet so strongly, as a means of comfort. I just can't bring myself to do it though, because I don't think I can make that kind of leap of faith. I think it's the fact that these people are so dedicated to something which is so ambiguous.

Either way, I wouldn't say avoid these guys - be open to everything. I'm not entirely sure if they are more than just a band though.

the return of the geek

Forgive me dear readers, for I have neglected. Big time. The thing is, I've had too much to do, what with moving from the seaside to the city in order to pursue my not-so-blossoming journalistic career. There have been ideas - I just haven't been able to make them a reality.

One which came to mind a few weeks ago, in fact, was the fact that it seems that geeks really are getting chic. And I'm not talking about 'geek chic', a fashion trend which has been around for a while (a trend which is the source of mixed opinions. Although my mind says NO because it reeks of pretentiousness, I have to admit it's HAWT when some gorgeous guy dons scarves and geeky glasses. Ohm nohm).

*interlude - whilst on the topic of London and geek chic, take time out to clock this vid to get a feel for the love-hatred of geek chicness.*

Thank god I don't have 20:20 vision, cause my frames look worryingly similar to the ones at 0.36.

Anyway. I'm not talking about new-age hipster geek chic, because that's portraying the message that you're so cool you can look uncool.



Eisenberg - ones2watch4.com



The geek I'm talking about is the proper nerd, the ones most people laughed at at school and actually weren't bothered to hang out with. Unattractive, not particularly interesting underdogs who may or may not have had excellent grades. I'm talking about what Superbad unsurfaced in 2007, arguably the first of a long line of films to come starring geeks who really are just geeks.



You see, the most enjoyable films I've seen recently have all had massively geeky protagonists - and all the films have done pretty well for themselves. Note that I'm not a huge cinema whore, but do enjoy the odd really good film.

ZOMBIELAND - a 2009 spoof zombie movie, directed by Ruben Fleischer and starring Jesse Eisenberg. Funny, graphic, exciting - loved the way it was filmed. Go see it. Go check Eisenberg out (see above right).



Johnson - screenrant.com



Not your average man candy, right? But still, weirdly compelling in Zombieland. By the end of the movie I wanted his babies. And this isn't geek chic, this is the real deal.



Mintz-Plasse - stupidcelebrities.net



KICK-ASS - it's Ronseal - it does exactly what it says on the tin. Saw it for the second time a couple nights ago and got so excited by it, even when I knew what was going to happen. Great plot, awesome filmage. Hot geeky protagonistS. It's a 2010 movie directed by Matthew Vaughn. Starring Aaron Johnson (above left) and Christopher Mintz-Plasse (right), who are both really painfully geeky. They get into a couple fantastic home made costumes and voila- the beauty is that the transformation isn't even there. When Peter Parker becomes spider-man, he sheds his geeky self and becomes totally awesome. The great thing about Kick-Ass is that these kids are still super geeky (they're actually pretty normal kids, don't have any powers or anything, just a couple home made costumes) and stay that way. And yet they're hot for it.



Cera - remotepatrolled.com



SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE WORLD - another gem of 2010 directed by Edgar Wright, it's an all-singing all-dancing worship to geekiness. The Universal Studios opening credits were in 16-bit Nintendo-ish game style (all you gamers out there - sorry, I'm pretty shite at the exact technical terms). The entire movie was riddled with gamer jokes and graphics. I'm not much of a gamer myself - I did and still do love Pokemon on Nintendo, but that's pretty much it I'm afraid - but I loved it. The two guys I went with to see the movie most probably pissed themselves laughing, because they got EVERY joke. And after the movie was over an unfortunate viewer sitting beside them had a tearful rant about movie-ruinage because of it. Anyway, the leading man Michael Cera (left) is - again - a huge nerd, and the girl he gets is probably every gamer's fantasy, with bright purple hair 'n shit.

What do all of these fine young men have in common? You have to admit, there are serious similarities between them (particularly between Eisenberg, Johnson and Cera, I think). Big watery eyes, pale, curly hair.... not typical tall, dark, tanned and therefore fanciable material, perhaps. But daymn, do I fancy them in them movies. I have to admit (call me slow, very very slow), but until writing this I would have guessed Eisenberg, Johnson and Cera were the same guy.

I reckon that maybe what makes these charming young men so attractive is the fact that they're genuine. None of this love-rat business (footballers - boo?) and popularity contests, no peacocks, no worrying about whether your man is going to screw you or screw you over. Maybe it's nice to have a guy who will totally love you for anything, who pays attention to you rather than his image, a genuine guy who might be a bit insecure to start off with but blossom, if you give him the chance. On the flipside, maybe I'm just a massive geek as well.

art - the belgian kind

Philosophy of art was definitely my favourite module as a joint-honours philosophy undergraduate. I loved the fact that the concept of art is so broad and nobody can quite grasp what it is - there isn't a definite definition. Whether people attribute this inattainability to a Danto-esque Art World pretention, or to the fact that art is something transcendental, is a personal opinion and I think says a lot about a particular person.
I've always enjoyed art, and I enjoy the fact that it can incorporate absolutely anything. I'm actually a fan of more modern art which, although usually doesn't seem to require that much technical skill or representational talent, says something about society - often strong messages. I enjoy the open-endedness of more modern art because I think each viewer takes something different from less determined works of art.

Last weekend pottering about Brussels (and a day trip to Blankenberge on the Belgian coast) wasn't supposed to be arty, and yet after looking through my photos I realised that almost everything I snapped was part of some kind of art display. Interestingly, everything fell into completely different categories of art as well.

Take a picnic to the Bois de la Cambre in Uccle, for example. It's a beautiful patch of woodland right in the middle of town, and I actually don't know how big or small it is. Nevertheless, a charming gentleman and I packed cheese and ham sandwiches, strawberries and a flask of tea (quintessentially British, I know) and ambled (in the sweltering city heat) to the cool little oasis of trees. It was a beautiful day, and the light and shadow contrasting and filtering through the leaves was stunning. I've attempted some arty-farty photos and although I love photography I don't think I've quite got the knack of it (above left: bit of tree. above right: gentleman in tunnel).

Ambling out of the urban woods was slightly more upleasant - going back to the hustle and bustle of a steaming capital city after an hour of calm is never that great. It definitely put me in a bad mood - but I've never really been a fan of heat. These guys cheered me up though:

Forgive my photographic failures - if you look closely you can see they're juggling things (sticks? batons? they looked like bowling pins. maybe they were bowling pins.)

What these guys were doing was hanging around on a main artery road in Brussels - one where all the embassies are - and when a light turned red for cars they'd run out and start juggling. They were obviously arty studenty types, probably from the ULB university down the road - and there were loads of them! What a fun thing to do on a hot and sunny day! (Dare I say almost Brightonian!)  Although they asked for money they weren't beggars (all too often you see sad-looking limping beggars tapping on car windows and asking for a euro cent. The Belgian's policy on homelessness is horrendeous - no Big Issue scheme here). Anyway, these guys seemed to be doing OK money-wise. There was nothing ominous about what they were doing - and I'm sure the people in the waiting cars enjoyed watching them. I certainly did. I suppose you could call juggling-busking art?

Later on that evening, I and a charming gentleman made our way to the heart of Brussels (muggy-central!) for cherry beer and slim  cigarettes. We were waiting for other friendlings in the Grand Place - which is always wonderfully vibrant on summer evenings, with clusters of people sitting on the cobbles smoking, drinking and chatting; parents even bring their little kids to hang out with them until ten or eleven at night - when a dramatic blear of violins stained the air and one of the main buildings of the square lit up. They do this over the summer, every summer: it's called something along the lines of 'Sound and Lights' if I remember correctly, and basically the public get a free light-and-sound display every evening as a main building in the Grand Place is used as a projector screen. It's a  lovely performance, especially on a summer night.

A few beers and cigs later and photos of the counterpart to the infamous Mannekin Pis - the Jannekin Pis, which is tastefully placed down the most touristy side-street of Brussels - were a must. Now that's fine art, if you ask me. You're supposed to drop coins in the puddle beneath her, for love and good luck, obviously. The quirky thing which I find a bit depressing but weirdly endearing about Brusselians (I prefer to avoid the term 'Belgians' as a collective noun) is that their national symbol is a pissing boy (and girl) and they don't mind. Probably because the country's falling apart anyway, so why not poke some fun at it. The Mannekin and Jannekin are definitely not aesthetic feats, but they're still considered art, I think. Perhaps satirical art.

Fast-forward a number of sweaty and uncomfortable hours, and it was time to leave the city for the day. We were headed for Blankenberge, which I'd never heard of - but it's somewhere on the north cost of Belgium (to be honest, when I think 'Belgium' I don't think 'Seaside' - but 'tevs). We had a voucher for 2 euros off the Blankenberge 2010 'Zandsculptuur' Festival and thought, 'yes'. But first a snapshot of a bit of urban art at the station (the station, incidentally, was an inferno. Heat and madness.) Admire the typically Belgian Tintin incorporated in the tag. That's street-cred, if I've ever seen it.

A train and a wander later, we got to the fantastic sand sculpture festival. What technical feats. Just have a look at some of them - we were told that we were absolutely not allowed to touch the sculptures - probably because they were made out of concrete of polystirine and we'd find out if we touched them (LOL @ the non-threatening, tasteful and carefully thought-out warning signs). The exhibition was huge and the works of art were beautifully executed, each cluster representing a different country. So you'd get the standard stuff like Ganesh for India and a Kangaroo for Australia, but also Nokia phones for Finland and Lego for Denmark. As a final thought - I don't think the sand sculptures were my favourite pieces of art I saw over the weekend, despite being the most skillfully executed.  Enjoy.       

Images: own

on guilt and impulse buying

Money's a great and terrible thing. I love it when I have it but when I have it I spend it and then need more. Being lazy, privileged and having to go between Brussels, Brighton and London at awkward intervals during the summer means that I can't get a regular job now I'm on the continent. Although I worked at a newspaper for free I don't have a penny to show for it (goddamn internships!). I'm currently babysitting - and feel live I've regressed back to a 14 year old. Still, it pays well, considering all you have to do is put a kid to bed then sit in a stranger's house and watch their tv.

I've earned close to 100 euros in a week (not bad!) and that means I've had to spend some of it, especially because I never went clothes shopping as a student (booze or clothes - you choose!). Going to the H&M in Rue Neuve in Brussels and buying a skirt on sale and a bag on impulse (not even on sale - argh!) actually made me feel guilty. I had to stop everything and think about it for a while, and felt pretty bad whilst and after buying the items. It only came to a grand total of 30 euros.

Why would that be? It's a nice skirt and a nice bag. I'll definitely use both of them, and well (I'm the kind of person who overwears everything if I like it). I'm earning money - it sounds amateur-ish, but I've got plenty of babysitting lined up. Yep, definitely sounds amateur-ish. I also love stuff. I'm such a consumer. What's my big problem?

Being a University of Sussex student, I studied theory by neo-Marxist Herbert Marcuse concerning the consumer culture. His 'One Dimensonal Man' book is difficult - I didn't even read all of it, although I was supposed to - but once you get the ideas right it's really interesting, and quite enlightening. The basic idea I grasped is that the Capitalist consumer culture propagates commodities which are 'false' needs - such as fashion clothes, fast food, gadgets, etc. H&M skirts and bags. Pretty much everything, it seems. According to Marcuse, us humans who live in this society are quite superficial in the sense that we have false needs, which means we buy shit to satisfy these needs. The consumer culture gives us the illusion that if we buy x, y or z we'll be more complete, therefore we NEED x, y and z. Of course, x, y and z are only bits of junk which give you a smidgen of gratitude until you need more. Marcuse then goes on to say that 'true' needs are satisfied by higher things, such as art.

This is what I gathered at least. The art thing I'm not so sure about, to be honest, because although I like to think of myself as an art aficionado, I maintain that the art world is pretty pretentious and a lot of 'great' art is only 'great' because the artist knows the right people. I agree with the first bit of Marcuse's theory though. Think about it: before you buy that shirt - or gadget, or whatever it is that you want to buy - you saw and love in a shop, you can't really stop thinking about it. You imagine how great everything is going to be once you have it. You realise that it'll cost money but it's worth it because object x will make your life better. Once you get it, you think 'wow, this is great' - and after a couple days, even though you don't really want to admit it, you think 'now what'. You start looking around for something else to buy. The 'now what' is the glimpse we have of our consumer-culture false needs.

Maybe that's why I felt guilty. I was thinking about that skirt for a couple days and now I have it I think - was it really worth thinking about that much? My life hasn't really changed as much as I thought it would in that pre-consumer-delerium I was in. The impulse buy bag was pretty much the same thing. Ah well, it's the society we live in, isn't it - which is in my view, pretty impossible to escape. May as well buy lots of shit to make me feel better about it.

thyroids et al.

I didn't expect to be told that I needed a thyroidectemy at 20 years old - when you're that age you feel pretty much invincible. I was really upset, to say the least. I dislike operations - the irony of the thyroidectemy was that the surgeon found out that I needed one when I was on the operating table getting my wisdom teeth out. I woke up from general anaesthetic feeling terrible and was told that the lump on my throat (which I hadn't noticed before) had to be removed too.

I decided to do it in Brussels, not because I have anything against the NHS - I love the NHS, they fixed my wrist without question when I accidentally threw myself down the stairs - but because Brussels does have a pretty good reputation medical-wise.

Anyway, I was booked to stay in for two days and two nights - I swear, longest two days of my life, and I was crashed out for one of them! But contrary to my expectations, the experience was actually more pleasant than the wisdom teeth removal.

Because I obviously looked stressed out, the nurses gave me a 'happy pill' to chill out before the op (they should sell those for everyday use...they're amazing!) and then I waited around on a bed until they wheeled me into the operating theatre. After a 5 second weird experiece of feeling my body close down but my brain still working when they anaesthetised me (not pleasant) I woke up what seemed like no time later - but actually a couple hours - with gloop in my eyes and feeling disorientated and generally shit.

The general anaesthetic made me sleep for most of the first day so I didn't really know what was going on anyway. They also gave me a tube attatched to a pot to drain blood out of the cavity which I had to carry around with me, when I went to the bathroom. I was also attached to a drip. But to be honest, I didn't really feel like doing anything but mong for the first day and night. Sleeping was hard, but only because I had tubes coming out of me. The blood-pot tube fell out of me in the middle of the night but apparently that was fine. When I went to the bathroom I noticed I had red (probably antiseptic) stuff smeared from my chin to my breastbone, and bits of glue where heart monitors had been stuck. I looked like a tribal woman.

Second day was the longest day. Ever. I was still a bit disorientated and jacked up on painkillers, so didn't really feel anything or notice that a piece of me had been taken out of my neck. Got woken up early and played cards and stared into space until Tribal Wives was on BBC2 at 11, then watched that and went to sleep. God it took forever. Got fed different flavours of protein mush - which wasn't too bad (apart from the banana one) and accidentally got fed tuna and peaches (the nurse mixed up my liquid-exclusive diet with someone elses - bad times, but nothing bad actually happened). That was the highlight of my day.

The night took ages, especially because a mosquito found its way into my room on the 7th floor of a hospital in downtown Brussels. It bit me on the hand three times and once on the bum, and I couldn't really swipe at it because I was still attached to a drip. The miraculous thing was that the itchy swollen bites disappeared by the morning, because of the super antihystemine drugs I was on. They should sell drips in the shops to get rid of bites, I swear.

Woke up in the morning and got my bandage on my throat ripped off, and the scar was suprisingly small and inoffensive. I also have a pinprick scar beneath it where they drained the blood (see right, after I got out of the hospital. The scar is going to fade into the neckline, apparently, and the pinprick below looks like a beauty mark anyway, which could be seen as exotic... I'm going abroad in a month or so and just need to cover it with factor 50 suncream to protect it and make the scar less brown. You can also buy a gel to get rid of scars. The scabb appearance is actually only medical glue - didn't even need stitches!). After hanging around for a while the doctor strolled in, said everything was fine, perscribed me paracetemol and ibuprophene and told me that I didn't have a total thyroidectemy, as previously thought and discussed, but rather that he left a bit in. So I'll still have to be on thyroxin replacement pills but less of a dosage. On top of that, I haven't taken any thyroxin for nearly a week and I feel absolutely fine, because I have excess thyroxin in my body.

General consesus, therefore, is that having a partial thyroidectemy is a lot less unpleasant than getting impacted wisdom teeth yanked out. There's literally no pain, the only problems are boredome and inconvenience - boredome in a hospital room, boredome having to eat nutritious mush, and inconvenience of having to walk everywhere with a drip in your arm. If you're going in to get one, bring an easy to read book or a lot of crappy magazines.

And on top of that, I have another crazy scar to add to my collection - check out this one - no, it's not from a crocodile bite or cigarette burns, but from when I fell down a flight of stairs, shattered my wrist and had to get metal pins inserted for months - all a year and a half ago. Delish.

Images: own 

in the woods

I'm impressed with twitter today.

I've previously failed to understand the whole hashtag - @ thing, the impersonality of it, the point if no one really wants to listen to what you're saying (pretty much my case at the moment... a measly 32 followers). The fact that the majority of my friends do not have twitter, and if they do most of them don't know what to do with it.

My internship at a newspaper has dragged my twitter account out of stagnation - the instancy of it means that you either have to be on the computer all day (as I am) or have a smartphone (I unfortunately do not).
So after a failed fox-related vox pop attempt I'd been chatting to one of my only friendlings who has a mass of followers and followees, a wicked blog and a sense of technology and media.

I lamented in twitter-speak that not many people are interested in what I have to say and she retweeted my vox pop to some hundred of her followers after telling me to just follow anything of interest. I got an instant reply and struck up a mico-convo with this complete stranger.

I checked his blog out too and he looks like such an interesting person - if I understand correctly he directed, or helped to direct, this:






Its strikingly beautiful. I like it because its completely lovely and innocent - of only real life was like this...! (including having a guy who can do capoiera)...

His website is amazing too, check out all sorts of mini films at http://www.milkyfilms.com
The song, incidentally, is 'In The Woods' by Ed Hope & Friends. Love it!

And I got this from a complete chance meeting online, someone whom I'll never meet or even speak to in person - and this is where twitter differs from facebook. twitter is impersonal flashes of information, just superficial levels of information which lead to deeper discoveries. facebook is a personality splash-out, which is often not that great (how I loathe those people who update their statuses about their feelings every half hour...ug).

bikes, glitter and jiggly bits

Last  weekend's Brightonian frolicks also included the Brighton Naked Bike Ride. Yep, you heard me. Apparently it happened in London (believable) and Southampton (really?) as well. I think Brighton is the most suited place to do it though, after all it is the most hippyish liberal place in the UK - and I love it. I really don't want to leave it for London's calling now.

At midday at The Level, a bit of green just off Lewes road, a couple friends and I strolled down to watch and take photos (I know it sounds dodgy - but it was purely out of curiosity). I was expecting to see a meagre handful of naturalists attempting to ride bikes nekked in on a sunny and yet probably unpleasantly breezy day. Instead we saw close to 500 people at various levels of undress skanking, lolling about on the grass, smoking and singing along to a live 50's style jazz band (who subsequently stripped off as well). The Level was rife with bums, boobies, willys and vajay-jays - I felt like a prude for not stripping off myself, so to compensate I painted a nose and whiskers on my face - it made sense at the time.

There was also a moustachio's unicyclist who 1. amazingly managed to ride a unicycle 2. amazingly managed to ride a unicycle whilst staying pretty much in the same spot 3. amazingly manaeged to strip completely whilst on a unicycle whilst staying pretty much in the same spot 4. looked sexy whilst doing it. I was in awe and took plenty of photos of him.

The bicyclers then departed in a flurry of bikes, skin, paint, glitter and jiggly bits. I asked them why they were doing it and nobody gave me a straight answer. One person said that it was to demonstrate the vulnerability of bikers. One person said it was to promote bikes rather than cars. Another said it was to promote body image and break taboo. Yet another said that it was in protest against the BP oil spill. I really didn't care if everyone said they were doing it for fun - I would definitely have done it if I had a bike, or rollerskates, or a unicycle... I was even contemplating jogging alongside.

It wasn't even about being naked - some people were in shorts and a bikini top. It was more about community and celebrating mankind. I love Brighton - and there's always next year.

Images: own

football fever

I have been dreading world-cup mania for weeks, and I am not alone. For starters, at a guess I'd say about half of the British population either dislike or are not that bothered by the fact that television viewing will be plagued by balls flying across the screen and lager adverts for the next few months. To paraphrase the voice of reason himself David Mitchell, it's just hours and hours of dizzying, mind-numbing, endless football, each hour more 'climactic' than the last.

Alright, this fantastic parody is a commentary on TV's endless coverage of football rather than the four-yearly world cup. I have to admit that world cup fever 2010 is infectious and exciting, especially because this is the first time I've been in the UK for it. For me, WC 2010 is all about the office sweepstakes (I'm Slovenia, and will get £14 if I win!!!???!!?!!? Gotta keep an eye on that!), cramming into pubs and bars whenever an England game is on (two friends and I squished into The Bear on Lewes Road for the fist Engerlaand game - England v U.S.A - on Saturday), the camraderie (I hate that word), the drone of of vuvuzelas (which may potentially be banned in South Africa http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/world_cup_2010/8737455.stm - bad times!), English flag face paint (I <3 facepaint!) etc. etc. I almost blame myself for not really getting into 'the beautiful game', it's probably my ignorance - when I watch football all I see is a pretty straightforward ball-going-back-and-forth and people tumbling over each other. I go for the atmosphere rather than admiration of technical skill.

Previously living in Brussels meant that a handful of expat teens and I used to have to find English-y pubs in the town centre in order to get the magic combo of exciting pub-atmosphere and an English game. The choice always turned out to be, ironically, a toss-up between a couple Irish-themed pubs. Nevertheless, the atmosphere in those pubs was exciting and pretty amicable, because everyone in the pub was generally a mix of different nationalities, despite being from the 'English Section' of a European school - so although we were all supporting England, the fact that none of us bar one or two were actually 100% English made the experience somewhat more civilised.

I don't really mind about the hours of television time which will be dedicated to football fever (as long as, I'm thoroughly ashamed to say, Big Brother remains untouched - I've been sucked into it again and need my daily fix. I know it's embarrassing). But I do mind the attitude of a bunch of football fans.

Yes, ok, football brings people together - I agree with that, in my case it's cool as long as you're English. I thought it wouldn't be that bad in Brighton, it being a totally liberal lefty trendy green multicultural place and all that jazz. I was wrong. I have nothing wrong with competition whatsoever, and pride, and going for your own country, and stuff. I have to say, I was less than impressed by the attitude of English football fans last Saturday. Being British and American myself, I was pretty much going for England but also wouldn't have minded if U.S.A won either (funnily enough, the score turned out to be 1-1). The people in The Bear were pretty pissed, both angry and wasted, acting like they caught some kind of airborne football fever. The wasted bit it fine as long as being enraged doesn't come with it, because that really sours the atmosphere. The game in The Bear started off fine but gradually deteriorated when Robert Green let the ball literally slip through his fingers (I feel sorry for him, it was cringeworthy). That's when massive abuse started, waves and waves of 'fucking yankee cheating wankers' (I didn't see any cheating at all) and general rowdiness, shoving, bitching and whingeing by the Brits. Not graceous at all. Pretty horrible to watch - you got the feeling that if you happened to be rooting for the Americans you would have been mauled by red sweaty beer-bellied England supporters, both male and female. A friend of mine went to watch the football in a pub in Essex - don't get me started on what they were shouting.

This is what I've been dreading. Dickheads, basically. The attitude of a large amount of football supporters is not cool (not specifically Brits, I'm sure it spans across the globe). Football supporters are called 'yobs' for a reason, warnings about the British pilgrimage to South Africa have been issued for a reason as well. My experience on Saturday just strenghtened that arguably harsh and sweeping claim. From what I've experienced, there's no dignity or grace in a bunch of supporters. If you lose, you'll get plastered and hurl abuse at an HD screen. If you win, you'll get plastered and hurl. England neither won nor lost and everyone was mad, the whole thing was just generally uncomfortable and unfriendly. I will most probably be going to more pubs when the England games come about again, and I hope the atmosphere will be better than Saturday's. I hope I'm not disappointed.

(n.b. see below for the result of a combination of patriotic facepaint, too many pitchers of beer and a disappointing game)

Images: own

the not-so-great british circus

The Great British Circus came to town and I, another intern and a professional journalist trecked to Dial Post in West Sussex to see it. Not as part of a preview piece for the 'best circus with animals', however, but to research a report on the ongoing controversy that is the fact that exotic animals are made to perform for our entertainment, at as much as £28 a pop [I dislike using the term 'wild' when referring to these particular circus animals because the animals have been bred in captivity for as long as 10 generations].

Before heading out to Dial Post, I did some research on the GBC. Intern-boy and I moseyed around Horsham doing vox pops, and the general consensus of those under 60 was that the circus, especially ones using animals, were outdated and cruel. Its website looks tired and tacky, but insists that it adheres to the code of conduct of the European Circus Association (ECA) and has this statement on animal care:

"A note about ANIMAL CARE - The Great British Circus provides the best and most practical accommodation for our animals. We construct purpose built, state of the art, travelling accommodation, and ensure all our livestock is gently and patiently trained using positive reinforcement. We ensure the animals' diet is wholesome, varied and nutritious. With a network of four experienced veterinary surgeons, blanket health care is possible around the country."

Fair 'nuff. Sounds like quite a good lifestyle for an animal, really - no risk of disease, plush living conditions, good health care, no risk of being attacked or eaten by a bigger and better animal, and probably treated kindly, because living with animals must create a great bond between animal and trainer. Interestingly, a yellow highlighted message at the bottom of the homepage reads SOMETIMES YOU CAN BELIEVE WHAT YOU READ IN THE PAPERS - and proceeds to hail a journalist from the Ilford Recorder who reported that the RSPCA was satisfied with the living conditions of the circus animals. It almost seems like a threat to journalists on the 'other side' - check it out: http://www.greatbritishcircus.co.uk/. Indeed, we weren't allowed to bring any recording equipment into the big top. Probably because of incidents of animal cruelty recorded in 2009 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bta6UxBX6xM.

Nevertheless, I was excited to see the show. I hadn't been to a circus since I was an ickle kiddy, [when I saw an elephant smoking a cigar, which in retrospect was rather bizarre] and I used to enjoy the circus . I enjoy the romantic idea of the travelling circus and the life of circus performers, the sort of tired and traditional feel the shows tend to have have, the weird home-made community atmosphere, acrobats, lions and tigers, out of date organ music, the musty smell of the big top - oevrall general victorian-feel quirkiness. My secret fetish is variety acts [sorry to say that I've been glued to Britain's Got Talent] and I would love to see the Cirque du Soleil. I loved all of that kind of stuff when I was little, and I love them still - my memories of the circus were positive. I was expecting something great out of the Great British Circus and went in curious and not really knowing what to expect.

Before hitting the big top (without our camera and other gear), we stopped to chat to the handful of protestors picketing outside [I must admit I was expecting more of a turnout - probably because of my experience of protest-mania at university]. They had banners and signs saying things like 'Roll up, Roll up, to the cruelest show on earth', etc. Now, my experience at the University of Sussex has made me wary of protestors. Although I admire the fighting spirit, dedication and organisational powers the hardcore university protestors have, their excessive use of megaphones and shouting definitely promotes a sense of alienation and hostility. Bad tactics, if you want to get the average person - not who couldn't care less, but rather who could see both sides of the argument - to listen and get involved. Most of these protestors were different, though. One of them weilded a megaphone and seemed quite aggressive, but the other 10-odd people were middle aged, kind and thoughtful people with full time jobs, who have taken time out of their evening to fight for something they believe in. Maybe leftovers from 70's students enraged at animal cruelty. I think that's fantastic and admirable.

They explained to me that on various accounts the RSPCA had found problems with the conditions of the animals, that the animals spend something like 22 hours in a cage and the rest of the time training - i.e. walking around in circles and leaping over each other, that they are loaded up and taken around the country like luggage. That Martin Lacey, the lion and tiger tamer, would 'shoot animals which he couldn't sell on the free market' if circuses were to be shut down. That the living conditions are generally unnatrual and unhealthy. They asked me to look for the sorrow in the animals' eyes as they trapsed around the ring as they handed me a leaflet.

I went in feeling shocked, and maybe that tainted my experience. Either way, the circus itself was not really worth the reduced-price fiver we each spent (apart from the last act - Duo Stefaneli did a fantastic piratey gymnastic act). The big top was only one third filled up to capacity with parents and little kids - the circus nowadays definitely appeals to the much younger generation, namely that of an age where they have no concept of ethics. Professional journalist, intern boy and I looked like grumpy adults sitting at the back and armed with notepads.

The circus opened with some impressive hula-hooping, and some pretty shoddy dancers who reappeared at dispersed intervals [although I must admit I kind of liked the crappiness of it in a weird aesthetic way. If you've seen and enjoyed 'The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus' you'd understand]. There was also a less-than-funny clown and a person in a monkey suit, whose most advanced jokes were based on bums and farts [again, the tired and depressing feel was almost enjoyable for me]. Five feathered stallions did some jogging and twirling around the ring, camels, reindeer, a llama and a tiny frisky pony (it was so cute) were taken for a walk around the ring. The llama jumped over the camel at one point, which was the pinnacle of unnaturalness but I have to admit quite impressive. The tigers came in and they did non-tiger things whilst yawning, one even pissed on the crowd [I don't think that was part of the act]. A dancing dog did some cute doggy things and seemed to be the only performer there who was enjoying him or herself.

Overall, it was tired, weird and a bit depressing, and the enjoyment I got out of it was because of its weirdly aesthetic crappiness. But I have to admit, it must take some skill to make llamas jump over camels, and (probably de-clawed) tigers not perform rather than maul you [surely if those tigers were that pissed off they'd attatck the trainer]. Skill or patience. Either way, I certainly don't have the skill or the patience to do that, so well done GBC, I am mildly impressed.

I wouldn't go back, though. Purely because although the technicalities of training animals was rather impressive, the atmosphere itself was a bit mouldy and damp and not generally pleasant. I was not really amazed and entertained by them. The human acts were definitely better than the animal acts - sorry, the last human act was better than all the other human and animal acts - and I would have enjoyed the circus more if it was more trapeze and gymnastics stuff. I would have rather seen those animals doing what animals do in a zoo or safari park, because seeing all those animals in such a weird cramped space didn't feel great. It's probably because I spoke to the protestors first, though - I would have liked to see the act before I spoke to the because i feel that my experience was tainted. The little kids loved it though, and fair enough, they get to see tigers do crazy things inches before their gleeful little faces.

The travelling circus is a dying breed, probably because there are so many laws to stop animals being kept in terrible conditions. I don't think the GBC is a torture house for animals, I'm sure they're looked after according to EU regulations now - especially after the exposition of the cruelty last year. Without the animals the GBC would be nothing, so it would be foolish to gamble your only asset. It's just that the general atmosphere of the entire performance was weird and depressing. Now, if it was a fantastic act and amazing circus and the animals seemed full of life and vigor and happy and well looked after, I would have probably enjoyed it, because I like that kind of stuff. Dancing dogs really entertain me - it's crap but true. And I have to admit, I would be impressed if animals like tigers can be trained to do weird things. But I do think this production was a failure, those animals didn't look happy. If I had to pick, I'd rather animal welfare over circus entertainment.

bun fights and big spoons

My weekend was riddled with record breaking attempts for some unknown reason. Maybe June just seems like a good time to try fun and yet irrelevant stuff as a means for claiming fame.

On Friday I covered the record breaking fight attempt for the Largest Bun Fight (yep, you heard me) for a local Horsham newspaper, photos and all. To make it even weirder - although I do admit, fantastic because I did feel like I was 10 years old again - 90's phenomenon Get Your Own Back host Dave Benson Phillips was there chanting 'Another One Bites the Crust' as what seemed like millions of tesco-provided bready missiles flew through the air. I'm glad to say he hadn't aged a day.[Here's some footage from the Midhurst and Petworth Observer - you can see me for about 2 seconds at 0.20, behind the barrier, next to the woman with the red trousers and the camera] http://www.midhurstandpetworth.co.uk/horsham-news/Kidz-Stuff-world-record-bun.6343380.jp

The whole two minutes of mayhem was part of a day-long activities for kids with special needs and their friends, families and carers and I had as much fun watching it as everybody in the arena did lobbing buns at each other - it was weird and wonderful and something worthy of BBC's Oddbox. And that was only one part of a three-day Kidz Festival which was also attempting to break the Largest Wet Sponge Fight and the [Guinness World Record] Largest Three Legged Race Over Multiple Locations on Saturday and the World's Largest Gunge Fight on Sunday whilst a continuous attempt at the Most People Dressed as Story Book Characters spanned across three days. The previous bun fight record of 251 people was incidentally broken by 2 extra people - so a grand total of 253 people turned up to the pastry-chucking madness.

Saturday was supposed to be an unofficial attempt (note: the bun fight was official, with a solicitor there and everything) at Brighton's Big Spoon - which, in essence, was supposed to be a massive session of people 'spooning' or hugging each other from behind. Unfortunately, as somebody mentioned, it was more of a 'Big Fail' [ROFL] than a 'Big Spoon' because it ended up with about twenty sheepish people who didn't really know each other sitting at The Level - one armed with a megaphone shouting quippy comments at passers-by (such as "Mr. Postman, are you here for the Spoon?"). My two spoonees and I eventually edged away from the group of people we didn't know and were yet supposed to embrace from behind, and admitted defeat. So we got hold of some soft toys and made them spoon each other instead.

Arguably neither the Bun Fight nor the Big Spoon were records worth putting in the Guinness Book of World Records - and I'm pretty sure neither of them will be put in there. The three legged 'do might be though, although it in itself is pretty unimpressive. The great records are fastest, tallest, smallest, fastest man or woman, etc etc etc.
A lot of people, including a partial part of me, poo-poo these banal attempts to be recognised. But after going to the bun fight and the (albeit failed) spooning sesh, I realised that the point of these events is for amusement, and being able to laugh at the banality of the event, rather than glory of breaking a world record. I am amused that somebody came up with the idea of a glorified food fight as a means to break a world record, but it was fun to watch and I'd bet hilarious to actually do. And even though the Big Spoon wasn't even recorded, I bet all 20 people who showed up just went along for mild entertainment and the chance to spoon a stranger. Technically I could break a world record in a second as according to research nobody has recorded banana fight to date, so if I gathered a couple friends armed with bananas and recorded it the same principle as the bun fight would ensue. And why not. Shmeh.

much needed updates

Dissertational woes kept me away from my emerging interest in blogging - both micro and macro [made that sound appealing, didn't I?]. But now those 24,000 words are down the tube I'll attempt to give this blog a bit more lovin'. Jazz it up a bit. Add some photos [too adventurous?] Maybe stop being so serious.
Either way, I left you hanging way back when in March when I promised you some 'Meow' links and how dodgy some newspapers can be generally.

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/2747979/Lad-ripped-his-scrotum-off.html
Legal Drug Teen Ripped His Scrotum Off.Bollocks. [Excuse the pun]
Please enjoy this from New Scientist Magazine, a publication which is pretty much dedicated to cold hard scientific facts rather than gossip, passion and hearsay.
http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn18712-miaowmiaow-on-trial-truth-or-trumpedup-charges.html:

"November 2009 The Sun newspaper in the UK published a story under the headline: "Legal drug teen ripped his scrotum off". Quoting a police report, the paper said an unnamed teenager high on mephedrone needed hospital treatment after he tried to "rip off his testicles". Acting Sergeant Michael Urwin, of Barnard Castle, County Durham, later pointed out that this headline-grabbing tale and other aspects of his report to senior officers had been cut-and-pasted from blogs and internet forums. "That particular information came from a section of the website www.mephedrone.com under the heading 'Experiences'," Urwin told New Scientist. The Press Association agency, which sends out its copy to most newspapers and TV channels, obtained the police report, wrote up the scrotum story but omitted a warning in this report that it had come from an internet site and so may or may not have been true, says Urwin. The owner of www.mephedrone.com told New Scientist that the story had been published online as a joke. It has been repeated as fact by dozens of news outlets around the world."

Oh my days. Emphasis on the recycled information theory in the post below.
On another note I'm afraid I couldn't find the actual article reporting on the Scunthorpe teenagers, but do have a follow-up from the Metro which says that there were no traces of the drug in their systems. Hmm...
http://www.metro.co.uk/news/828366-mephedrone-not-to-blame-for-deaths-of-scunthorpe-teenagers
Cudos to the Metro for reporting that a few days ago.

I am absolutely not advocating drug use or abuse.
The reason I am focussing on the meow issue is because it is a highly controversial topic and both sides argue their cause passionately. Both sides have good arguments to support their causes - my emphasis is on the fact that a newspaper's duty is to report facts over fictions purely because of the massive influence they hold upon the general population.
Some of them have a long way to go.

please deliver

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/mar/22/charlie-brooker-newspapers-dangerous-drug I found this very interesting because it highlights one of the may concerns I have about the media, the press and newspapers in particular (see first - or was it second - blog post way back when). About a month ago? Never!

Hurrah for Charlie Brooker and Nick Davies (author of Flat Earth News, which I'm currently reading - albeit slowly due to dissertational woes), both of the Guardian, have successfully, I think, emphasised the danger of the media.

Everyone reads newspapers - or at the very least, the news online, or on TV, or on the radio. Everyone knows, to a certain extent, what's going on in the world because information technology is just that fast.

At the moment I doubt that its entirely accurate.

Beginning with the article above. 'Meow' (I've never heard anybody call it 'meow-meow', but the press seem to have lapped that up. Maybe I hang out with the wrong kind of people) is splashed across the headlines, and I am sure most people are wanting to get it banned, immediately, especially because a couple teenagers died the other week. Most newspapers failed to report that these teenagers had been taking a multitude of other narcotics in addition to meow on that night out, including mass quantities of alcohol and even methadrone, a heroin subsitute. Perhaps this contributed to the very saddening situation of their deaths.

And this is because the media gives what the public wants to hear - it would be nice if somebody actually took the time to see whether meow by itself was harmful, rather than screaming for its immediate banning, because unfortunately kids these days want to get wasted and will do a ridiculous amount of things for a hit.

But rather than engaging in proper, unbiased research, the press seems to grasp on to a popular notion which will sell, that meow will kill your child.
Maybe it will kill your child. The problem is, nobody knows because it is such a new phenomenon. If it is banned this research may never be carried out. Enter Professor Nutt and his assertion that MDMA is actually less harmful than alcohol. Here's an interesting article from the Scientific Activist, to go with the graph below http://scienceblogs.com/scientificactivist/2006/08/study_finds_alcohol_and_tobacc.php

Davies addresses this issue in Flat Earth News - how one small assertion, or badly researched stories, can be taylored into mass panic propagated by the media. Remember Swine Flu? I admit I'm guilty of this blind belief - over last summer whilst in London I'd give anybody who sneezed near me the evils. Just from swine flu hitting the headlines, I felt constantly dirty and infected whilst living in England - going back to Belgium, where my parents are, seemed like a breath of fresh air.

What about the Millenium Bug?
Etc.......

And yet the problem is this. The press has to work faster and faster, with less and less people getting stories - Newspapers amongst other mediums of information are crumbling industries. If only journalists had the time to go out and research a proper story, rather than taking information from press releases and other newspapers. The information becomes recycled, reiterated, and trickles down to the public that way.

And from reading papers, etc, one can see that information (especially information which will cause mass hysteria) gets snapped up, recycled, reshaped and fed to the public again. It's nobody's fault, really, as there is not enough time or money to research proper stories. It's not a massive conspiracy theory either - it's just lack of time and resources combined with the need to sell.

I fear that the golden age of journalism, as a bearer of truth and reliability, has passed.

Images:
enemiesofreason.co.uk
scienceblogs.com

shame on who?

A "Stop the Cuts" (Yes we Carnival!) themed-protest occurred last Wednesday, March 3 and the University of Sussex. This was in solidarity with the UCU, lecturers and other staff and students across the country who are opposed to the cuts, as part of a national day on student action. Westminster uni, UEA, UCL and Kings College London, to name a few, all saw some kind of protesting action. And then 50 (or is it 80?) Sussex students stormed an administrative building and occupied it for a few hours.

What a delicate subject this is. Having missed the carnival and actual storming of Sussex House at around 12, and having to rush back and forth to the Badger Office, was a mistake. I would have liked to see the entire thing - because I have been told "what actually happened" by so many different people with conflicting versions of events that I doubt an unbiased account is possible (yes, everything is biased to some extent, but there are few people I have spoken to, or whose comments I've read, who seem to be able to see both sides of the story). They are all interpretations of events.

The facts I have gathered are these: there was a carnival themed protest, which was fine. Then students broke into Sussex House and occupied it. Most of the staff left, some remained. Students and police watched from outside, there was chanting, there was music. The atmosphere was electric - and although the protest had an underlying furious message for the VC ("There's only one redundancy we want to see...") the atmosphere seemed generally positive. I was there at that point, and although police had secured a perimeter around the building, with dogs, I even had a chat with a policeman. It was overally exciting to watch and it felt good to soak up the atmosphere. It was infectious. I can see why people get a thrill out of protesting - although I genuinely hope none of these protesters are doing it purely for the thrill, under the guise of being a political activist. I just felt the irresistable urge to fill in the gaps.

A couple people got taken out of the building and searched for some reason. And then I am sorry to say that I left for a bit, and that's when things turned sour. A second wave of students decided to storm the building.

Foolish, because as far as I know, this caused the police to arrest two people (who apparently assulted a security guard and an officer - although I am not able to judge as I was not there, and I haven't yet seen a video convincing me one way or another), and, from what I've read, "threaten students with pepper spray and dogs".
Call me skeptical, but I think that if a wave of angry students rushes at a police line, the police are going to react. They're not exactly going to let more students get through a secure perimeter (especially students who were fine with standing outside, singing and chanting, for hours beforehand). There was no need for this. As far as I know, the occupation was going fine, the protest was going fine, why muck it up? Bad idea.
When I asked why students actually did this, I didn't really get a plausible response. Somebody said the police "looked like they were about to go in to the building". Somebody else just said that the level of violence was set by the police when riot police and four more dogs turned up (so sink down to their level by attempting to get past riot police and dogs by force in attempt to storm the already occupied building? What?!). I wish I was there to see the whole thing to judge for myself what actually happened.

From what I have gathered, however, I do not think this second surge was justified. If riot police turn up, and you think its a bad thing, it doesn't really seem like the best idea to try to push against them, because they will stop you.
I am not advocating the actions of the police if they were unneccessarily brutal. Police brutality is not a good thing, and yes, previous occupations happened peacefully (the Bramber House one a couple weeks ago was fine). But if police turn up, don't try to aggravate things.
I do not think that protest was 'peaceful' and that the police turned up and screwed everything up, as some people are claiming. 50 + students stormed a private building and occupied it. The protest was 'non-violent', not peaceful, until violence actually happened.

Yes, the number of police and riot police was overkill. Police presence was necessary though, because it is actually illegal to storm a private building, and it is a large bunch of angry students. And so saying 'Police Off Our Campus' (one of the points in the Demonstration Against Police Violence Facebook groups/events) because of this is, I find, very short sighted and a knee-jerk reaction. We need police on campus I'm afraid, because things go wrong (lap tops, bikes etc. being stolen, rape on campus, drugs and whatever else going on). In addition to this, I'm not entirely sure police can be banned from campus. As was illustrated to me, this is not 'The Republic of Sussex', this is a university (if this can be done, somebody enlighten me as to how). I think some people are getting carried away.

If the police turn up at a protest, figure out how to work with it, rather than allowing both the police and the students ruining a generally exciting and positive protest.
The arrests and student outrage of the students against police brutality have, I think, tainted the protest. Make formal complaints if you feel the police have done you wrong, don't get them off campus. An 'us vs them' mentality is entirely unproductive.

I am not attempting to bash anyone. I think protest is important, of course it's important to have a voice and to fight for what you believe in, and for a great number of people it's 'part of the uni experience' (and I am covering myself here because so many comments on Facebook similar to what is written above has been met with immediate insult and anger - which, incidentally, makes things seem unattractive, if there is anger in the place of rational discussion). I have no problem with the occupation - if that was the way to get management to listen, so be it, and well done for organising it. Apparently the protest inspired lecturers to have a close to 80% turnout vote for strike action, and that is something positive.
But do do things properly. Acccept the fact that the storming of a private building is going to be met with police force, and if riot police turn up, dont try to break the line unless you take responsibility for the fact that there most probably will be violence and arrests. These guys are trained to deal with this kind of thing - illustrated by the fact that they had their own evidence camera on the scene. They knew that they would be dealing with a bunch of pissed off University of Sussex students (notorious for its radicalism), and I'm sure they did not want to do anything too rash because the students would react exactly the way they are now.

What irks me the most is that all I have seen of the arrests is a grainy video of a copper and a student tumbling down a slope, the student being slammed to the floor and then being arrested. People have said things like 'my friend saw it and he wasn't doing anything'.

And I am sorry to say that it has come to the point where I take everybody's account of events with a pinch of salt, because I think that the experience will be tainted or embellished by the person's views - whether anti or pro police, management, etc etc. These views, I think, are a filter through which a recollection of a past event is streamed. Humans can rationalise anything to fit to their views - that is something I have learned whilst being at university. I doubt there is a completely unbiased view out there.

In addition to this, I am tired of the incessant Facebook bickering, about who's right and who's wrong, and for this, that and the other reason. People believe strongly in things, particularly at university, and I strongly doubt that any argument will sway a person's beliefs.

I can't even clearly see the point of this post, to be honest. I've ended up typing a lot more than I previously intended, and have left plenty of loose ends. It is not meant for anybody in particular, it is not necessarily meant to be read, and I hope it is not met with anger and insult. It is a physical account of what's going on in my mind, and my interpretation of events (emphasis on the interpretation).

It has given me a headache.

Images: www.thebadgeronline.co.uk

never a frown...with gordon brown?

I wonder if he is as intimidating as the press makes out. Obviously Downing Street denied it (how could they do otherwise?) - but reading The Observer today (front page as well! - but I suppose that's because it's one of their journalists publishing a 'breakthrough' book - well done Mr Rawnsley) I remained unconvinced. Probably because in it were claims along the lines of "He looked like he might throw a newspaper on the floor" (!) or "He hit the back seat of the car with his fist" (!). I'm obviously not advocating violent behavour (and what some may categorise as 'bullying'). But I'm sure I'd be throwing newspapers on the floor if I were Gordon Brown - the amount of stress which comes with the job must be astronomical. Especially in his case - the media doesn't really seem to be his friend at the moment. It never was, either. And probably never will be. And the media, we all know, is the information filter by which the masses are fed.
But some really do seem to be nitpicking.
I'd like to read Andrew Rawnsley's book though. However iif the claims are true, I think The Observer should've printed some jucier incidents. Rather than "Gordon Brown clenched a fist once".

misery

This should'nt take too long.
I'm slightly less toothy - got my wisdom teeth out today. It went absolutely fine - although the anticipation was horrible (the nurse had to give me a 'happy pill' to relax me) - combined with a 6 o'clock wakeup and not being allowed to eat or drink for a number of hours - it was fine. My face is less swollen that I thought it would be, there certainly isn't any excruciating pain, I was in and out in a few hours.
This isn't really a story then, is it.
And note, I've even added a few minimal bad things, purely to embellish my nonexistant story, to give it more bulk (early wakeup, needed a happy pill, etc.)
It would be a lot more interesting (for the unconcerned individual) if the doctor took out the wrong tooth. Or did some horrible damage.
It would be a lot more interesting if it wasn't a story about how miraculous medicine is these days - that surgeons can keep you alive in a semi-coma with the flick of a switch, so that you don't feel pain - and you wake up, and they've managed to pull out four of your back teeth, and stitched the gums up.
Or, as was the case last year, shoved three metal rods into your shattered wrist to help it heal. Again, minimal pain for what it was (and there again, I've inadvertently gone back to a horrific image story)
I wonder why this is. Humans obviously revel, in some way, in other's misery. Maybe a Jeremy Kyle-style "phoar - I'm glad I'm not her!" scenario.
Newspapers and websites get a lot of slack for digging out the most 'orrible 'eadlines (The Sun: Boy, 9, Dies After Stabbing. The Guardian: Rain Brings More Mysery to Haiti. BBC: Repentant Woods Sorry For Affairs - to name a few).
But it sells, and unfortunately, newspapers have to sell, especially these days, as so many papers are folding (do you know anybody who buys a paper every day?)
Humans are attracted to misery, it seems. Depressing as it is, this is what we want to see, or read about, or hear about.

blogging for...

I've started a blog now, as well. Going with the flow. Advancing with incessantly advancing technology, ever growing, ever difficult to keep up with. And why? I'm not really sure, actually - to share my views with the world, probably - subjective opinions, that kind of thing. A passion for journalism, yet nothing (I believe) journalistic of the sort - and yet journalists are encouraged to keep blogs. Since when is good journalism, that is, current affairs, reporting and the likes, as blatantly opinionated as a blog (granted, nobody can be entirely objective)? And since when do random people want to know about my opinions (lest it be in the 'comments' or 'editorial' section of newspapers, magazines, or in trivial chitchat 'down the pub')? I'm not really sure. But I suppose that's the way the world's going at the moment. And I suppose I should disengage myself with my journalistic training of trying to be as objective as possible and attempting to report the facts. So let's use this as a place to rant. Or discuss.
Hey, I'm ranting right now. Or discussing. Fancy that.
I've seen other blogs, and they show various aspects of a person's personality. Everybody keeps a blog for different reasons - whether it be a hormonal release into the virtual world of the web, a project for a degree course, a reason to keep fans updated with various goings-on. I'm yet to get a specific direction. Maybe a commentary on the goings-on of the world around me.
Perhaps I'm yet to get the hang of this.
I think I'm going to give twitter a go too. Yeah.