MY FACE IN YOUR LAPTOP

Is this normal?

2011-02-05T14:24:00.002Z

Below there is a video of bacon lardons being cooked (hidden so the page loads faster for those who aren't bothered).

This Blog is Now All-Natural

2011-01-26T19:16:00.001Z

This blog has been painstakingly constructed from a single source, using only electrons derived from the natural environment. Nothing in its make-up comes from anywhere other than Mother Earth - from the natural photograph (enhanced using natural software-based methods) to the text which is rendered in HTML derived from the minds of computer programmers, fed on foods processed by machines consisting of combinations of natural elements such as carbon.

Yes, as usual I'm being quite ridiculous and hyperbolic, but it's for a purpose: to illustrate one of my pet peeves, the idea that 'natural' is best....

Everything from cosmetics to learning processes is labelled as 'natural' to enhance its appeal. While in some cases there is a clear choice between a superior natural choice (for example, if you wanted a tree in your garden, an apple tree) and an inferior synthetic alternative (for example, a chess set, which while useful has few of the functions desirable in a tree). This much is obvious.

However this concept is taken by advertisers and opinion formers and tested to destruction.

Let's say you reject synthetic materials - concerned about possible toxins or other nasties in the industrial production process. No more nylon (named after New York and London), you opt for cotton t-shirts and jeans. Soon, though, you realise you're living a lie - cotton doesn't grow in England, and the denim style of weaving was invented in France. Do you see where I'm going with this? Final destination: eating raw hedgehogs (if you take out the spines you lose the nutrients) wearing uncrushed nettle overalls and only washing yourself when forced to cross a river in your daily struggle for survival. BECAUSE THAT'S THE NATURAL THING TO DO, RIGHT?

Another problem is the definition of what 'natural' is. 'Natural ingredients' basically means artificial one step along the production chain - after all, everything is made of natural elements at some point - the difference is how radically it has been changed.
In behavioural or societal arguments, when is natural? Does social networking disrupt the normal social order? What normal social order - the hippy 60's? Victorian times? What about telephones? Or telegraphs? Or writing itself? What about electric lighting? Candles? The Moon? (OK, too far).

Don't get me wrong, I don't think increasingly advanced technology necessarily always improves the quality of things.

But if there's a problem with something, let's be clear what the problem is- be it harmful chemicals or changes in societal norms - not whether or not it's "natural".

Christmas. It's a bit shnally, but I love it.

2009-11-28T22:52:00.001Z

For a while now, I've had at least one Christmas playlist on Spotify... I've been busting out the festive stuff since mid-November, I think. Admit it, you probably think Christmas music – and for the more cynical, Christmas itself -is a bit lame. I’m not sure if that’s the latest “cool” way of saying that, so I’m just going to go ahead and say shnally. Yes, that is a made-up word, so what?

Some aspects of the season are, indeed, shnally. Such as seeing your Great-Uncle Roger dancing with a sausage roll in his mouth, or being made to wear the same red jumper as all your siblings as a child. In fact, childhood Christmases were always a game of two halves: the smorgasbord of self-indulgence on the morning of present opening, contrasted with having to humour distant relatives who can't really remember your age, yet expect you to sing, dance or otherwise perform for them. But I guess whoever pays the piper calls the tunes. Even if payment is a bag of Sports Mixture and a big sloppy grandma kiss.

And yeah, some Christmas songs- the Spice Girls' “Christmas Wrapping” cover, or the Darkness' Christmas song spring to mind – would, in any other context, run the risk of inflicting the wrath of innumerable alien species who, while intercepting our radio signals and hearing the aforementioned tunes, would turn from friendly neighbours into planet-destroying demons before the children's choir kicks in. As we're still alive, though, they must appreciate irony.

Plus, there are some good examples of Christmas music, as long as you can hack a bit of cheese. On the more tame side, you've got Christmas carols – Carol of the Bells, O Holy Night, O Come All Ye Faithful. Anything arranged by John Rutter is a winner, too. Then you've got seasonal pop – from Bing Crosby's White Christmas to Band Aid, or if you can't bear to part with heavy distorted guitar, check out Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

But here's the bottom line: Christmas isn't about being cool. Far from it. Christmas is when you wear a paper crown, eat copious amounts of sweets and smile at random strangers. For some of us, it's about our religion; or our family; or simply having a good meal. Worrying too much about coolness will result in being stuck clicking “Refresh” on your web browser in a cold room on Christmas Eve, bitterly choking down your last packet of Monster Munch. That's right, I'm the ghost of Christmas Facebooked. Be afraid.

So embrace it. Listen to some cheesy tunes, hang out with your aunts and uncles, play board games, wear a Santa hat and generally be shnally (that's right, I'm going all the way with my invented word). You'll love it, at least until January 2nd. Simply, having, a wonderful Christmas time... indeed, Mr, McCartney. Indeed.

Vampires, werewolves and hormonal teenagers. Scared? You should be.

2009-11-25T19:35:00.002Z

DISCLAIMER: There are some subjects that this blog generally avoids. Firstly because I'm not very much in touch with them (my TV viewing is limited to on-demand services like iPlayer or 4oD and I don't really follow celeb culture in general) and secondly because joining in the commentary on these things, even if negative, somehow taints you, covering you in thick black ink of shame and forcing you to scrub your skin with bleach and Brillo pads to get any kind of relief. Topics like "Jedward" fall into this category at the moment.

But I have to weigh in on New Moon.

Obviously, I was never going to like this film. I don't even have ovaries and I've not read the books (as I may be reminded following this blog post, but I'm commenting on the film not the book, so there). But while the original Twilight film at least had a mysterious tone to it and some fun moments, New Moon was about as enjoyable as waiting in line at the Post Office on a Thursday afternoon. And the Post Office is actually an outdoor hut surrounded by land mines. In the bowels of Hades itself.

Yes, there was some fighting which was OK - the pale one got smashed against a staircase which was pretty Jack Bauer (yes, that is now an adjective) and of course the bit with the film "Facepunch" provided some laughs. But other than that, even the most ardent Twilightiteite would have to admit that about 95% of the movie was just utter misery, even by Miss Happiness' standards (that's the pouty female one I'm talking about). Sat on her bed, the camera circling around her while she contemplates suicide just to see the extra-pale hallucinatory face of her vampire love.

It's just hard to empathise with such a sour, pouty protagonist- you get the picture that no matter what, she'll never be happy. Therefore I propose that her head have a little yellow circular icon hovering over it to denote her emotion. So when Eddy's head appears to tell her not to stick her head in the ice cream maker (OK, I made that part up) a friendly yellow face will indicate that she is HAP-PEE. Or the rest of the time it can be a sad face with a little tear. Maybe it'll make it onto the DVD features... one can only hope.

But maybe I'm wrong - maybe the next film will show that once they're together again, the world will be full of butterflies and lollipops and it'll end with them singing "Take On Me" in a karaoke club with string from party poppers in their hair. Or maybe it's a good thing that this film seems like a collective act of self-harming. All I know for sure is, there's something a little bit scary about it.

Long Live King Hector

2009-11-16T20:32:00.001Z

As some of you may know, an event is going to happen in 2012 that will bring global attention to Britain, our culture and way of life, and highlight British talent. I speak of course of the Olympics, and by extension the Paralympics. On the other hand, the same year will see an event that will highlight the anachronistic nature of our political system and attract global bemusement and head scratching: the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.

While I was pondering this over dinner*, it occurred to me that I was in the presence of a potential monarch: our hamster, Hector.

While Hector, being a hamster, will surely have limitations, I am sure Hector can deliver much more value for money than the current House of Windsor. Let's look at what the Queen does, from royal.gov.uk:

"As Head of State, The Monarch undertakes constitutional and representational duties which have developed over one thousand years of history. In addition to these State duties, The Monarch has a less formal role as 'Head of Nation'. The Sovereign acts as a focus for national identity, unity and pride; gives a sense of stability and continuity; officially recognises success and excellence; and supports the ideal of voluntary service."

Focus for national identity? Well, everyone loves hamsters, right? Just stick his cute, furry little head on our coinage and BAM! Instant unity. Yes, he may be a Syrian hamster, but our current Royals are German, so there's an element of continuity in rule by those of foreign descent. Hector frequently shows stability and continuity - I've never once heard him go back on something he's said before, and his personal interests vary very little (namely, eating Cheerios, chewing on cardboard, running in his ball and pretending to be a statue when you walk in the room). And he must support the ideal of voluntary service since he scrounges off me and the Mrs. constantly. At least he doesn't tax us, though.

"As Head of State, The Queen must remain politically neutral, since her Government will be formed from whichever party can command a majority in the House of Commons."

Excellent. Business as usual. Despite knowing Hector since not long after his birth, I still am none the wiser as to his political persuasion.

"While The Queen is 'fountain of honour' in the United Kingdom, honours are actually awarded on the advice of the Cabinet Office.

For this reason, honours nominations are handled not by Buckingham Palace but by the Honours and Appointments Secretariat, part of the Cabinet Office."

It just gets better and better, doesn't it? Now, obviously Hector couldn't give a Queen's Speech (he is male for starters) but this wouldn't be an impediment if the monarch was mute would it? Hmmm? Hmmmmm????

Plus, Hector is significantly more safe from terrorism - just pop his cage in a car and take him anywhere, no-one'd have a clue about his location! And as for palaces, well, last time we bought him a house he just chewed the ground floor up and started sleeping beside it. I'd like to see Charles Windsor pull that one off.

PS. Not convinced? Check out http://royalhamster.com/ - obviously this website was money well spent...

*Roast chicken from Morrison's deli counter if you must know.

Existential angst is hard to come by when you're eating Chocolate Squares

2009-11-01T22:59:00.001Z

I'm not usually one to advertise brands, but some products need to be praised, and one such product is Mornflake Chocolate Squares. They're sold in Bome Hargains a.k.a Homie B, and they are lush little pillows filled with chocolatey goodness. It's hard to place the experience of eating them, or indeed a stack of warm buttered toast, in the same universe as some university literature.
One of the set texts for my course is a Brazilian feminist's book of short stories in which the protagonists, unenlightened in the ways of Home Bargains, undergo some mundane experience (seeing a blind man chewing gum... seeing an old man cry into his meat...etc) which somehow triggers in them an epiphany of the meaningless, repressive nature of gender roles and society, leading them into a pit of existential angst.

It's a bit grim.

But let's be honest, you can't be edgy or arty or whatever and also be positive, at least, non-ironically. Most of the writers you study at Uni seem to be the type who sit on a park bench for hours gazing longingly at the stars, pondering the pointlessness of it all -" Misery misery misery angst hate angst misery SQUIRREL misery misery DIRTY PIGEONS!!!!"
But I digress. If any of you out there build a time machine, just make sure you take back some good cereal with you. It might just make the world a happier place.

Protesters aren't domestic extremists, they're extremely bored

2009-10-26T20:56:00.001Z

Police state latest: turn up at a few demonstrations (say, against nuclear waste being dumped in your wheelie bin*) and your mugshot could turn up... on an "Eye-Spy" style police 'spotter' card.

Now, don't misunderstand me, I'm as fed up with the authoritarian, database-enlarging, memorystick-loving, Guardian-gagging mess our Government, police, and legal system have gotten us into, but I'm not one of those people. I mean, I care, but not enough to actually do anything much about it except maybe vote Green.
And that's a British trait, isn't it, whinging into our newspapers but ultimately wishing we could hibernate in a nice fluffy ball of our own self-pity until the storm blows over and we can go back to complaining about buses.

But the thing is, the police really should leave "domestic extremists" alone. For a start, there's rarely anything extreme about them. Shaven-headed chavs are extremists. Circus performers are extremists. But left-liberal, vaguely pro-environment serial protesters? Let's face it, in other circumstances they'd be having literature readings at Starbucks. Let them have their fun. And secondly, there are quite enough actual criminals for them to be sorting out. And if they run out of them they can also serve as replacement postmen, ones who actually get your eBay purchases to you (albeit by kicking your door down à la Jack Bauer).

*Which would probably not make much difference from the current state of affairs in Leeds.

A few things I can always count on:

2009-10-25T21:02:00.000Z

Media types making a big fuss about Twitter and going on and on about it in the Guardian. SHUT UP, WE DON'T CARE.
Honey Hoops, Honey Shreddies, or pretty much any other honey-flavoured cereals. Where have you been all my life? Lonely on the shelf. Sadly, for much of my life cereals seem to have kept me alive; either that or my freckles developed a sophisticated method of converting light into vitamins and minerals (probably not proteins though, given the needle-like state of my arms during teenhood.). If you've got a better theory on how I survived on bread, crisps, cereal and crackers, I'd like to hear it.
Procrastinating writing 'the big essay'. And other people doing the same thing, but giving us word count updates on Facebook. Gripping...