Religious Thought

Is it just me or is the idea of an ever-loving forgiving god and the idea of eternal damnation antithetical?

:)

http://smashmethod.deviantart.com/art/Fundamental-Religion-8913379

A Bang And A Hiss

My tap exploded on me last night.

I was completing the usual 'going to bed' routine, turned the tap and it made the loudest bang I ever did hear. Made me jump out of my skin.

The aftermath was worse though, a high pitched hissing noise. A little research revealed that it was coming from the pipe behind the sink and was the noise of water spraying out.

Now what am I supposed to do in this situation? It isn't like I was taught how to deal with a pipe leak before I left home. At what point are we supposed to learn these things?

I thought of leaving it and just going to bed, but the idea of the floor collapsing through into the kitchen meant that morally I had to find a solution. I tried a flannel, wrapping it around the offending pipe. It just got wet and began to drip.

In frustration, I kicked it. Not too hard, not hard enough to affect my foot, but the hissing stopped. The water was staying in the pipe.

I turned the tap again. No bang. No hiss. No Flood.

So in conclusion, violence is the answer.

:D

http://sharadhaksar.deviantart.com/art/Tap-38881142

Echoes Of Kind Acts

I woke up with a thought: "Every thing that happens to us, defines who we are". Okay, sure, it's not the most original thought ever. In fact, it is just school science; every action has an equal and opposite reaction, if you get into a bath and you're fat, all the water will come out. Things like that.

But I lie. This wasn't what I awoke to. Instead, I woke to a memory. Asking a girl called Bethany out back in year two, or year three, or year four. Anyway, the year wasn't important, only that I asked her out and she said, as nicely as possible, no.

I'm not sure why I was thinking that, perhaps some remnants of a long forgotten dream, but that memory led to the thought that I originally said was what I woke to. Because maybe her denial of a date back when I was seven/eight, is what makes me nervous speaking to girls.

Which means that one little sentence, over ten years ago, is still affecting me now. My mind reels.

What if she had said yes? Let's say that we went on whatever classified as a date back when I couldn't drink. We dated for a bit. Maybe we broke it off when we left for secondary school, but I found new girlfriends, better girlfriends. I'd hang around with them, and their friends, and I'd not really ever speak to the people I'm friends with now.

I might never have gone to college because maybe her family would offer me a job. Maybe I'd get her pregnant. Perhaps I do go, but study different subjects. Maybe I'm more interested in Maths now. I was always good at it, just never had the passion. Maybe I go on to study it at University.

And, in my waking hours, I come to the conclusion that if I had got that one date, I'd be on the road to accountancy right now. I wouldn't even be writing this.

So this thought festered, like thoughts occasionally do. It stuck roots into the core of my brain and it grew, wild and untamed.

In the shower, I wondered what other seemingly insignificant events have shaped my life. If I had gone to that work colleague's party, would I have made friends with different people from work? Hung out with them more?

What if all the times I said yes, I had said no? Surely I just couldn't be the same person that I am now. I would have stayed home when I could've met new people, danced with old people and drank way too much alcohol.

What about vice versa, if I had said yes instead of no? How would going to those places, drinking that drink, kissing that girl, taking those drugs, doing that homework change my life or change who I am now?

Whilst I was dressing (and listening to "Don't Want To Miss A Thing" on the radio), it occurred to me that I'd have to have a list of every single decision and event in my entire life to even get close to understanding the reasons behind why I'm here right now.

And whilst I was on the way to buy a sandwich, as if life has some ultimate goal, I witnessed a small act of cruelty that pushed me into the conclusion of this thought. A man running for a bus and another, more idiotic, man sticking his foot out to trip him was what got me thinking about other people's lives.

Small decisions affect my life then they must also affect others. The simple act of sticking a foot out and almost tripping a man could echo forever. That man would be put into a bad mood, who wouldn't, and maybe he'd snap at an employee. He may not work as hard as he could do, setting himself behind on a deadline at the end of the week. He could be fired. Lose his house. Commit suicide.

Yes, this is extreme, but it is only to try and get across the damage that something so small can do. Even when I was buying the last tuna sandwich, I worried that maybe somebody would be denied their favourite sandwich. Maybe that would put them in a grumpy mood and they'd fight with their boyfriend. Maybe. It could happen.

Really, it may seem like such a simple statement to say that what we are doing right now with have ripple effects for the rest of our lives, but I think as people we have a capacity to hide the sheer scope from ourselves. Even the simplest gesture can completely rewrite the way history is going. Not just for ourselves but for people we meet and people we will never come in contact with in our lives.

The last dying breath of the thought was the idea that if cruel acts affected people badly, good acts must brighten the world a little. They could echo through people's lives, make people happier and more likely to be kind to others, and the cycle would continue.

I was in the queue when this last thought struck. I picked up a large bar of chocolate and every person I met that day, I offered a piece to.

It may sound lame, or a little naive, but I feel that my simple act will change the world. At least for today.

:D

http://genesis.deviantart.com/art/Kindness-49353900

Question Everything

• Why have a person signing in the corner of a TV screen when subtitles could be just as useful and less distracting? Surely they aren't implying there are people who can sign and not read?

• Similar Note: Why have someone sign to a music video? Isn't that just rubbing it in?


• Another Similar Note: Do all deaf people watch their TV in the early hours of the morning?


• If Justin Timberlake is 'bringing sexy back', who is he accusing of taking it away?


• Is Dr Dre an actual doctor and, if not, is it legal for him to go under that name? What if someone had a heart attack?
  
• Aren't Nickelback already rockstars?
  
• Assuming evolution is correct, what did slugs evolve from that was somehow less advanced then what they are right now?
  
• Isn't all music 'dance' music? What else are you supposed to do to it?
  
• If light travels at greater speed than sound, does it make a noise when it breaks the sound barrier?
  
• If Spiderman can stick to walls, why doesn't he stick to himself?
  
• If no-one buys a ticket to a film, do they still show project it?
  
• In libraries, do they put the bible in the fiction or non-fiction section?
  
• If the Wicked Witch of the West melts in water, how did she ever bathe? Or drink tea?
  
• If a king is gay and marries another guy what is that guy to the royal family?
  
• If Winnie the Pooh was civilized enough to keep his honey in jars, why did he eat it off his hands? Surely he had spoons?
  
• What would you see if you put a mirror in front of a two-way mirror then stood at the other side of the two-way one?
  
• If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?
  
• Couldn't Wile E. Coyote just order takeaway?
  
• Are there real people called John Doe?
  
• Related: If you have a name like Freely, why would you name your child Ian Peter? Are you just cruel? Same goes for Emma Lester, Carrie Oakey, Mary Christmas or numerous others.
  
• Why does popcorn not count as one of our five a day? Surely it's just corn?
  
• Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
  
• Can an ex-vicar still marry people? Can he perform his own marriage?
  
• What was the best thing before sliced bread?

:D

http://gemh.deviantart.com/art/Question-50551984

I Adore...

I did an exercise for a writing class which was supposed to show me who I really was and help me become a better writer. I'm not sure about the latter, but I'm learning that there seems to be a lot of things I adore.

I was at work this weekend and kept thinking of more and more things I could have added to the list. So here they all are. I was going to make them rhyme and fit them to the tune of "Favourite Things" but that would involve a whole world of effort. Also, what rhymes with sandwich?

I adore...

• Smoothies.
• Standing still in the shower, early in the morning, closing my eyes and letting the water rush over me.
• Playing music really loud.
• Lying in bed and playing music softly next to my ear.
• Pie, preferably homemade.
• Walking in the early hours of the morning.
• Costume parties, because I can be someone else for a night.
• Making people smile.
• Making people laugh.
• Swinging on a swing.
• Lying in warm grass.
• Jumping into a swimming pool second time around.
• Big jumpers that cover my hands (I think that's a comfort thing).
• Going to a quiet pub with friends and just talking; when it's not about the drink and more about the company.
• Hugging people.
• Getting lost in writing. When I stop trying to figure out what my characters are going to say and do next and just let my characters decide what they want to say or do.
• Finding a solution to my writer's block and it being so simple and so awesome.
• Watching pretty girls on a train (In a non-stalker way).
• Cooking for people.
• Holding someone's hand.
• Being silent with people and not worrying about what to say next.
• People playing with my hair.
• Running really fast in a supermarket and sliding round a corner.
• When lyrics to a song fit my life beautifully.
• Hearing a song that takes me back to a time or place, even if it's not a very happy place.
• Films that make me cry.
• The sound of rain on a conservatory roof.
• Watching people sleep (Again, not in a stalker way)
• Giving people presents on days they don't expect it.
• Photographs of friends.
• Cool sounding words.
• Someone strumming on a guitar.
• Commas.
• Writing lists of things I adore (Well, now)

:D

http://sweetaddiction.deviantart.com/art/pianos-and-pies-please-6428662

Stepping Stones To Nothing

This woman is the reason I shouldn't read the Daily Mail, even if it is the only newspaper left in the dining room.

Cut down to its basic message, the article is telling us that the girls became prostitutes because of heroin, they got hooked on heroin because of cannabis and therefore cannabis is what killed them.

Let us ignore the fact that this woman is using a terrible tragedy to push some kind of personal anti-drug message, with only a very loose connection to the original story. Let us ignore the rudeness and ignorance in that, just for a moment.

Instead, let's have a look at her argument against cannabis. First important phrase I come to is that cannabis is a "stepping stone to heroin". Thousands of people smoke cannabis every day and I would really like to know how many of them move on to stronger stuff, drugs like heroin. I'm not privy to the statistics, but I'm willing to bet that the number is very low.

I believe that even if cannabis didn't exist, people would still get hooked on heroin. In fact, I'd go so far as saying that MORE people would, because there would be nothing lower to try instead.

Cannabis is illegal anyway, so the idea of making it more illegal, or handing out greater punishments for getting caught with it, seems pointless. People will still smoke it, regardless of the class.

And yes, medical research may have proved that it doubles the risk of mental health. But medical research has spoken often about the risk of cigarettes and alcohol. So either we ban both of these or the medical argument goes out the window, because both of these substances cause more than enough problems for people who abuse them.

And I think that is where the argument ultimately falls down. It fails to differentiate between people who use and people who abuse. Because it seems when drugs are debated, these two people become one.

People get hooked on drugs. They become addicted and they do bad things to get more drugs. But the important thing to understand is that this isn't every one's story. Taking drugs does not lead to becoming addicted to drugs, in the same way that drinking alcohol does not lead to becoming addicted to alcohol.

The truth is that cannabis is not as addictive as cigarettes, and that is a medical fact.

I think our problem is not the drugs themselves, but the knowledge that young people have about them. At schools, drugs are demonised. They are bad, they will kill you and that is the only way to look at them.

What this limited world view achieves is a very dangerous ignorance about drug use. The kids grow up and they see people take drugs. They see them having a good time and they see that drugs aren't killing them like they have been taught.

So what they have been taught is a lie, right? They decide to take drugs and because they have a good time as well, and because they don't die, they take more. They ignore the dangers because if adults lied about drugs being bad, then they can't have been that knowledgeable about them in the first place.

What is needed is a straight, truthful drug education. Drugs make you feel good. They really do. But, like alcohol, they have to be taken carefully. Take alcohol or drugs every day and you're going to screw yourself up.

And yes, now I'm completely off topic. I took a little detour and ended up following that bloody road for miles and now I'm away from Daily Mail woman and how much she has annoyed me.

And she has, with her narrow-minded view about people who take drugs. I would laugh at her, if I knew that people wouldn't read what she wrote and believe it. But sadly, a world of free speech means that people will read and will believe.

So hopefully someone, anyone, will read this and be swayed my way just a little bit.

:)

PS: This may come across as pro-drugs. It isn't. I'm just pro-choice.

http://zikex.deviantart.com/art/Drugs-59873795

Old People

It seems that old people have something against me.

First, an old man sarcastically mocked me for not being able to drink as much as I used to. I was lamenting my lack of drunken nights out and how it meant I was unable to drink, when the strange older gentleman popped up at my shoulder to mock my lack of drinking ability.

The next day, as I was walking home, I passed an old man sitting on a wall. As I walked past, he shouted "Feck Off!" at me, for no good reason.

I don't know what I've done, old people, but whatever it was, I apologise. Please forgive me.

Sorry.

:(

http://evilxelf.deviantart.com/art/A-Man-of-Reflection-48314233

No Oscar For Page

I went to see Juno last night, a film I've wanted to see since last year. In fact, I remember discovering it and ringing up Nicki (Film Buddy) to tell her that no matter what she is doing or what I was doing, we were going to see this film. And we did.

And it was awesome. It was a really sweet film which was funny and moving and all the other words that I'm sure a thousand other film articles have described it as. So I won't be one of them.

Instead, let me profess my love to Ellen Page. She's pretty and cute and funny and a damn fine actress on top of that. Also, she played one of my favourite X-Men characters, sadly in a sub-par film.

There is a moment near the beginning of the film in which she is sitting in a chair in the front garden of the father. She is pretending to smoke a pipe (awesome enough on its own) and she tells him that she is pregnant. That is the moment I decided that she was amazing.

Her words are spoken confidently but behind her eyes you can see that she is only a kid, totally confused and seriously worried. It was at that point I decided that all the people who had told me she was the worst part about the film were wrong. Just plain wrong.

My instant reaction is to announce that Lil' Miss Page deserves the Oscar that she has been nominated for. Part of me even wants to give it to her personally. But then I began to think.

Halle Berry won an Oscar and went on to make Catwoman and Perfect Stranger. Both very rubbish films.

Charlize Theron won, and went on to make Aeon Flux.

So I say 'Don't give her the Oscar'. She deserves it, sure, but I'd much rather see her continue to make five-star films than waste her talent on terrible films, thanks to the curse of the Oscar.

Besides, she should know that she did good. She did real good. And that should be enough.

:D

http://gallery.ellen-page.net/displayimage.php?album=337&pos=3

Who am I?

What follows below is an assignment set in writing class today. It is supposed to help us discover who we really are, as people and as writers. Then, or so the theory goes, we'll be able to write more honestly and just plain better.

We were also told that we didn't have to share our answers with anyone, but I figure I may as well kill two birds with one stone and get a blog out of this. So anyhow:

What things matter to me?

[I've sat here for about 20 mins unable to start this thing. Apparently not the easiest question.]

The fact that I am here right now and (vaguely) healthy matters to me. The fact that I have friends who I can speak to into the early hours of the morning and never get bored matters to me.

It matters that I have the world ahead of me. It matters to me that I've got a fairly good, if a little warped, head on my shoulders and could cope with a number of things if and when they happen.

What things do I adore?

Little easier to answer this. I adore people, and new places and old places that feel comfortable. I adore my friends and my family. I adore comfortable silences and long conversations.

I adore well-cooked food. I adore a cold drink on a hot day or a hot drink on a cold day. I adore being really sweaty, then getting in a car, winding down the windows and driving really fast.

I adore rain because it makes everything seem more dramatic. I believe that the most romantic place you can kiss someone is in a downpour, followed closely, in second place, by a train station.

I adore snow, because it makes things beautiful.

I adore photography: other people's and my own. I adore looking back and feeling how I felt back when the picture was taken.

I adore stories: written, filmed, drawn, whatever. I like to travel places in my mind; new places and dark places and places I would never get to go normally.

I adore bubble wrap.

I adore a political smackdown from the 'West Wing' or moments when House is sarcastic or when Angel is dark and broody. I love good dialogue; pre-planned and spontaneous.

I adore hugs when I'm feeling down. Or when I'm happy. Or just, you know, whenever.

I adore being alone in the house, putting on some music and dancing like nobody can see me. Because nobody can.

I adore that point when lying in bed, not quite awake but not quite asleep, where you can let your mind wander and dream. It is usually in this state that I discover the solutions to all the world's problems, forgotten when I awake.

What things do I hate?

I hate waking up early. I hate the guilt of shopping. I hate lettuce and the feel of bananas.

I hate grey days, and working on mornings after and I hate writer's block.

I hate not having the courage to speak to certain people, ask certain questions or do something I'd really like to do. Sometimes I hate being nice, but not for long.

I hate nasty lies and people who boast. I hate ego and boys who are boys for the sake of it. I hate people who believe that society or art or religion exists in one form. I hate people who just don't try.

What do I most value?

I value freedom and friendship over everything else. It is a sad state of affairs that we need money to gain real freedom, away from the 9-5 jobs and bills.

What do I most despise?

Very similar to what I hate, but I despise people who are ignorant; both intelligently ignorant and emotionally ignorant. People who don't look beyond their own perceptions, who don't seek to stand in someone else's shoes or to better themselves in any way.

You bore me. You are wasting a life that someone or something or just plain fate has given you. We are created to constantly raise the bar and better ourselves, and your path of least resistance approach means that I will never care for you.

Who are the people that matter to me and why?

My parents, because without them I am nothing. Literally, nothing!

My brother and sister and the step-ones in between. Mostly after Uni, because now I know that I am closer to them than I ever thought I was. No matter how annoying they are.

My old-school friends for the ease in which we can slip into conversation. It can be about nothing and mean everything. It is always reassuring to know that no matter how my life changes me, as long as they are still my friends, I must be doing something right.

My new-school friends for teaching me that life isn't my one experience and that other views exist. For showing me that people don't have to share the same taste in film, music or anything else to find some common ground and become friends.

What changes have happened to me and why?

Since when?

I've got taller, but not that tall. I've got more cynical, but still naive. I got more confident, but not enough. I've got smarter, but still have way too much to learn.

I know more about me and I know more about my friends. I've learnt more about the world but my opinion on it has stayed the same.

Also, I think I'm cuter.

:P

http://s0ulmusic.deviantart.com/art/mirror-35998734

Hungover Memories

I awoke groggily and for a brief moment I didn't know where I was. I wasn't in my bed. I wasn't even in a bed. I was on the floor, in a sleeping bag. In two sleeping bags, as a matter of fact, but that does little to change the story. I was still wearing the clothes from the night before, except my coat which, I discovered later, was hung on the back of a chair.

Memories and facts and my life came flooding back to me. Of course I wasn't in my bed! I was 250 miles away, in Southampton. The floor I slept on belonged to Emma. The sleeping bag, indeed both of them, belonged to Emma. The house belonged to Emma if you ignore the fact that she has to rent from the real owner.

Emma herself was in her bed, where she should be. Next to her was Megan, technically also where she should have been, considering the fact she called shotgun on it the night before.

Both were awake and talking. What they were saying isn't important, only that they were piecing together the night before. Memories weren't in high supply on that bed. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you see the memories, I remembered.

I clambered out of one sleeping bag, rolled it up and used is as a makeshift pillow. I briefly wonder why I didn't do this before, but I must have found a way to sleep, otherwise I wouldn't have started this with the words 'I awoke'.

My head feels achy. I shake it to see just how much it hurts. Not a lot, but I'm sure time will sort that out. My stomach makes noises that, if translated into English, would mean "What are you doing to me, silly boy?!"

And my stomach would be right. I had been just as cruel to it the night before. My first night in Southampton was celebrated with cans of cider and later, at a pub called 'The Hobbit', pints of cocktails. Whiskey and vodka and rum and cider and all manner of other spirits meant that after getting back home (Emma's) we were pretty damn tipsy and in possession of a stolen brick.

So we sat and talked. We ate bagels with cream cheese and ham. Faye, who I now realise hasn't been mentioned yet but who was also there, hijacked my blog. And in the early hours of the morning I must have passed out on the bed.

I awoke next to Emma a little later. I was fully dressed, half covered in a quilt and next to a cold wall. I was also faced with a dilemma. The sleeping bag I was supposed to be sleeping in was underneath Faye which meant, unless I was mean enough to wake her, I was to sleep next to Emma. However, unless I woke her, or at least risked it, I was going to be half-covered and cold.

Luckily, this problem was solved on my return from a toilet break, as Emma had moved just enough to allow me access to more quilt. So I clambered in and fell asleep.

I remained fully clothed though, because a) it was warmer and b) awaking in your boxers next to a girl is the outcome of a successful date and, as far as I was aware, this wasn't a date. Therefore awaking next to a girl in your boxers was a little odd and probably unnerving for the girl. I'm just a gentleman and one day it will be my downfall.

But anyway, I did make up for this night of gluttony by repenting the next day. I learnt stuff from magazines, I enjoyed a long, relaxing shower and I ate fish and peas which can only be said to be healthy.

But it seems I was only lulling my body into false security because it was less than twenty-four hours that I fell back off the wagon once again. Faye left and was replaced by Megan and the drinking began again.

I could regale you with a chronological list of what was drunk and you may be a little shocked. I could tell you what was done when, or close to when as alcohol has a habit of bending time to its will, but that would be boring to write and boring to read.

I will tell you that I met Gavin, a colleague of Emma's and Katie, a housemate of his. I'd like to be able to tell you more about them, but the only remembered fact is that they were nice.

I will tell you that it was only £5 entry to the club but only 50p for a pint, which tells you just how easy it was to get drunk in that place.

I'll say that there was a queue to the boy's toilet, a fact made even weirder because I was queued next to a man in a dinosaur costume. I may or may not have spoken to him.

Emma and Gavin "enjoyed each other's company" which was strangely both predictable and surprising at the same time.

With Megan and Katie, we travelled to Katie’s house after being abandoned by the happy couple. We sat on a bed, Megan wrote Gavin a note and we got a taxi back.

Megan asked the Asian Taxi driver if he was Irish.

And that was the important stuff to happen in the night.

We got back to Emma's and rang her, whilst Megan pressed repeatedly on the doorbell. Emma answered sleepily and told us she was going to "put us in her drawers" and never explained herself. It was left to her housemate, awoken by Megan's crazed doorbell ringing, to let us in.

We found Gavin passed out on the bed, fully clothed. Clearly, he follows the same code of boxer etiquette I do. He left, and Megan took his place (although she did briefly forget where the bed was and needed me to tell her) and we fell asleep. Well, Emma was already gone so she didn't have to fall anywhere.

And now we get back to the beginning of the story and also the end of the story. I explained what I have written above to Emma and Megan. There were gasps and "Did I really do that?" and "Oh, I sort of remember that" and then it was over. Some of it was remembered and most of it was forgotten, especially by Emma.

And now you know what they found out. Or you are them. Either way, now that I've told the story I'm going to do what I did after telling the same story then: Go back to sleep.

And by 'Go back to sleep' I mean go and do some work.

:D

http://thenightshedied.deviantart.com/art/memories-59562410

American Gods

"I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen - I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women. I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in Drive-In Movie theaters from state to state. I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of the Worlds. I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Dom Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian Shaman. I believe that Mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it is aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there is a cat in a box somewhere that is alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually be two different kinds of dead) and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who worries about me and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honestly and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there is nothing wrong with the death penelty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, life is a cruel joke and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it."

Crudely stolen from "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman.

:D

http://snul.deviantart.com/art/believe-60203787

I've Hijacked Christopher's Blog

Well, this is fun!

Hello, I'm Faye. I know that I'm only one of 3 people that actually read this blog, so this hijack isn't the most exciting thing to happen in the history of blogs.

The hijack wasn't all that easy to be honest. I put in Christopher's email (which if your Christopher's friend, you should know already) and then Emma had told me his password, so I put in what she told me, and it didn't work, so I tried it again, and it still didn't work. So she put in the exact same thing that I was typing, and it worked for her. Obviously the computer views me as the anti-christ of blogging.

So, we went to a pub in Southampton tonight. It was awfully fun, except that we had a couple making out quite furiously behind Emma and I, and right in front of Christopher. So we spent a while debating whether the manly looking one was a man or a woman... It was a lengthy discussion, that I think they possibly overheard, cos we weren't all that careful about being quiet. I saw the he/she from the front after a while, and I'm fairly sure it was a woman. So in conclusion, we saw a couple of lesbinans having a bit of a smooch this evening.

Then we came home and had some bagels and cream cheese. I like bagels and cream cheese, although I eat them nearly everyday at lunch. But I suppose it's more fun when it's 2:30am. Probably not that exciting, cos bagels and cream cheese really have a limit on how exciting they can be. Which doesn't rate all that highly in the grand scheme of things.

So, Emma and Christopher are having a very dull conversation about the subjects Emma has studied in her history degree. Apparently she's done something to do with women murderers (women who are murderers, not men who murder women) and crime and punishment. And now they're having a debate about whether History goes on forever, or whether there's a limit on the amount of British history there has been.

Wow, I'm bored.

So, this isn't a bad entry for someone who has possibly drunk a little too much for one evening.

Oh, one final thing, Emma seems to love one of her lecturers. Apparently he's really cool and fun and when he picked on her to talk to the class about some bollocks to do with Shakespeare when she was hungover, she waffled on for a bit or something. It would seem that Emma talks about crap when she's drunk too much.

I was going to write something like 'Chris is a Gay' in this entry, (which I realise I just did, but I did it in '' <- those things, so it doesn't count) but then I figured that Christopher might delete the whole entry if I did, so I won't. So I'll be nice and say Christopher has cheese down his front. Which I did, but we won't go into that...

Apparently I've been typing this for ages, so I'm going to stop now. But it's not everyday that you get to hijack your friend's blog, so I'm making the most of it.

Off I toddle now. It has been a pleasure to talk to all 3 of you.

Lots of love,
Faye XxX

Train People

Crazy people I met on the train today:

Oblivious Man - A man that didn't quite realise that people around him existed. With loud music playing through his headphones, he continued to sing along with the lyrics. His sister/girlfriend was sitting next to him as well and failed to inform him about just how loud he was being.

Chav Guys - Two young gentlemen, old enough to purchase alcohol, who sat opposite me and managed to add a swearword into every other word and talked loudly about how drunk they had gotten yesterday/last week or how drunk they were going to get tomorrow/next week/next year.

Giggling Girls - Two girls who communicated in giggles. I swear I never heard them speak any English words, but through high pitched laughs, they managed to say everything they needed to.

Harry Potter Fans - An American family playing a Harry Potter card game. They kept making up new rules to try and spice things up, which just made the game incredibly complicated, much to the confusion of the small boy that was playing.

Phone Girl - OK, less weird, but she was my good deed for the day. She'd rushed to catch the train, grabbed her food and forgotten her phone. Being the kind person that I am, I lent my phone and she discovered that her phone had been found and she chose to head back to where she'd come from. I felt that I'd done well.

Oh, and Faye.

:D

http://peekaboocutie.deviantart.com/art/My-Train-is-too-Small-55473687

P.S. Emma has a scary door in her toilet.

No Smoking

I found some 'No Smoking' signs in a pound shop. Suitable for offices and home apparently.

What kind of person goes to the effort of putting up a 'No Smoking' in their house? Sure, they don't smoke, but do they really feel that they need a sign to inform visitors to do the same? Could they just not tell their guests?

If I was lighting a cigarette, not something I plan to do any time soon, but if I was, I wouldn't want someone coughing politely and pointing at their £1 sign.

Then again, if I smoked, I'd probably ask before smoking in someone's house. Either way, the sign is unnecessary.

Which is why I didn't buy one I guess.


:)


http://xenonophobia.deviantart.com/art/smoking-kills-63360849

Life Decisions

I’m at a crossroads in my life right now.

Today is the end of our major film projects, meaning that after another small project, University finishes. Three years of my life comes to end in little over three months time. Go back even further and I’ve been in education for sixteen years.

That means that sixteen years of my life have been planned out for me. I knew that in Year Two I would study Romans and in Year Six I would get the major parts in school plays. I knew that Year Nine meant exams and choosing what to specialize in and that Year Twelve meant more work but more freedom.

At the end of May this year, I know none of this stuff.

I’m still amazed to look back at just three years of University and see how much I have changed. Three years ago I was the skinny, bespectacled kid; smart but shy. I remember the complete lack of decent conversation in the first few months of life in Leeds, just because I didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

Now I wear contacts and my face has filled out, hopefully in a good way. I can walk into a room and speak to strangers with only a little bit of trepidation. I’m socially smarter and book smarter. I’m a little more cynical, but that can only be a good thing.

I feel confident with myself and who I am. More importantly, I know who I am and that is something I didn’t know three years ago. Sure, I knew some things I liked but University changes your view on the world. It shows you different sides of arguments like drugs, politics, music and film. I experienced new things and saw different opinions and I changed my mind but just felt like I was becoming more ‘me’.

And now that ‘me’ is sitting in the early hours of the morning, typing this and thinking one question: So what now?

If I have changed so much in three years, where will I be in another three? Where will I live? What job will I have? Will I have a girlfriend? A wife? Kids?!

The whole idea still feels insane to me. I don’t feel ready and still feel like I haven’t got a clue about life. Am I always going to feel like this, that I’m making life choices without a clue to where they’re going to lead me?

Sometimes I worry that I’ve already made the wrong choice, long ago. I wonder if I really should have studied Filmmaking. The only way I reassure myself is the thought that this is the only thing I can see myself doing. Sure, I could work in an office, get in at nine and leave at five. Maybe I’d do that well. But the only thing I can see myself enjoying in the future is what I’m doing right now.

It fits me, in an odd way that it’s hard to explain with words. When I’m on a film set, I’m happy. Even if I’m making tea or holding a light to make it look like a TV is flickering, I feel all, well, I feel like I’m glowing.

When I have that script epiphany, it feels the same. I feel elated, like I’ve won first prize in something really, really important. When I write a scene, I feel the characters inside my head. They talk and they interact with each other. I’m just their medium, channeling their speech onto the page for them.

It comes naturally and easy. This is ‘me’.

So, in the end, I can only conclude that I didn’t make the wrong decision. I could have done something safer. I would be happy as a teacher or a psychiatrist. But I feel I would have always looked back on that moment three years ago and regret not taking the risk with film, not daring to enter that scary door, with its foreboding and its peeling paint..

My future is only going to get more difficult. The industry is hard to get into and it seems like everyone with a video camera thinks they can make a film. I’ve got to make sure I work harder, write better, dream bigger, get noticed more than all of them.

And when we come back to the original question (So what now?) it seems these ramblings have provided me with the answer. Exactly what I’ve been doing before; making it up as I go along.

This whole process of trying to guess my future is a pointless game in the end. I could be a millionaire in three years. I could be on the street. All I know for sure is that I’m never going to be the shy kid I was three years ago, or even the young adult I am as I type this.

I’ll have new friends, and some old ones, new experiences and new dreams. But I hope I’ll still be ‘me’. Because then, no matter what I’m doing, I’ve got nothing to worry about.

Unless I got kids. Then I’ll be worrying about them wetting the bed.

:)

PS. This long, meandering bit of prose was written at two in the morning. It may be the closest I’ll get to a stream of consciousness put straight onto the page. I’ve tried to edit it for ease of reading and to make it a bit more entertaining, but I do apologize for how self-indulgent and erratic the whole thing is.

That’s just how my mind works.

http://duckify.deviantart.com/art/Decidophobia-50390479

Indiana Jones

Well, at least I got one good present this Valentine's Day.

http://www.rte.ie/arts/2008/0214/indianajonestrailer.html

:D

Happy Valentine's Day

Welcome to Valentine’s Day: the most pointless holiday of the year.

This may seem like the rant of a bitter singleton, but I promise that it isn’t. I occasionally feel like a bitter singleton, but this comes from a calculated place, a look at what we really celebrate on this day.

You can be one of two people on Valentine’s Day. If you are part of a couple, then this day is for showing how much you love your other half. You can wine and dine them, buy flowers and light romantic candles.

But do you really need a day to show your partner how much you care? Don’t wait until some non-day in February to say ‘I love you’. Say it now. Or shout it if they are in another room. Or ring them. Just say it.

I find it entirely pointless to wait until some kind of higher power tells us when to be romantic. Take your lover out to dinner whenever you please. Spend some time together: talk and do something mundane. Enjoy it because the love of your life is there with you.

Buy your girl flowers because the blue reminded you of her beautiful eyes. Buy your man tickets to the football, because a smile on his face is worth more than a new pair of shoes. Whatever you choose, you don’t need this day to tell you when to do it.

The other people are those who are single. For you, Valentine’s day does nothing but show you what you are missing out on. You can see people kiss in the street or see all your friends receive gifts, mostly things shaped like hearts. It seems that on this day, heart-shaped objects are a whole bunch better than normal shaped ones.

Okay, sure. You could make yourself a card with red paper and glitter. You could write ‘Be My Valentine’ in it and then sign it with a ‘?’. To make it more cryptic, you could write ‘If you think you know who I am, come see me at lunch and ask “What are the purple chips like?”’. Then you could cut that message out of newspapers, to make it even harder to trace.

But who are you? Deep Throat? (By ‘Deep Throat’, I mean the informant and not the porn movie of the same name. However, I’m very sure that the latter has a lot of influence on this day)

What is the best you can expect from this method? Even if the girl does like you, even if she does come to you at lunch and ask you about purple chips, the whole relationship is going to start off on the wrong foot. You are being a wimp!

The whole idea of the anonymous card is to save yourself potential embarrassment. If the girl doesn’t think about you in that way, she’ll never ask you about chips and you’ll eventually get over your crush and move on.

But all people are doing is hiding behind red hearts cut out from card. If a girl likes you, you tend to have some idea. It’ll be in the way she talks to you, the way she dances with you, the messages she leaves on your Facebook, the lingering glances, the drunken flirting.

I’m not going to stand here and say girls make sense because they don’t. But if you get an idea that they like you, chances are it is worth a shot. Ask.

It is that simple. Ask. One word. Don’t hide your name in a card. Stand in front of her and say “You fancy getting a drink? Or a bagel?”. Worse case, she says no and you’ve saved money on a card. You feel bad for about a day, before you justify it in your head and move on.

But a whole bunch of the time, she’ll say yes. Not always because she likes you, but because she wants to give you a chance. You took the courage to ask. One date couldn’t hurt.

You don’t need a special day to do this either. You like a girl in June, you ask her then. You like a girl called June in December, you invite her round for mince pies.

Whichever way you look at it, Valentine’s day is overpriced and overrated. Still wish I’d get a card though.

:)

DISCLAIMER: Whilst the advice above is good and sound in principle, I don’t always live by that code. Sure, I’d like to be that guy that can walk up to girls, wink and take them out on dates. But girls scare me. With their long hair and their girl bits, I tend to feel very intimidated.

But hey, maybe I’ll try my own advice out. All I got to do is ask, right?

http://muszka.deviantart.com/art/let-me-kiss-it-better-57769411

Chinese Sandwiches

Sign seen in a Chinese restuarant: "Traditional Chinese Food Served here: Noodles. Sushi. Sandwiches."

Sandwiches?! Since when have they belonged to the Chinese?

Made me want to visit the place though.

:D

http://karineko.deviantart.com/art/kitty-mascot-eating-noodles-14970679

Facebook Dilemmas And How To Solve Them: Part Six

The Poke War

It starts off so innocently, with the simple act of a poke. In the real world, the simple nudge with an outstretched digit would cause little to worry about. You’d probably forget it moments after it happened. The Facebook poke is a whole other kettle of fish.

First, why has this person poked you? Is it a playground dating ritual, similar to the little boy pulling the hair of the little girl. Or pushing her in the mud. It just means he likes her. Perhaps the poke is a friendly gesture, a cheery wave to get your attention. Maybe the person is bored. Or they don’t really know what a poke is and you are their guinea pig.

Whatever the reason, you poke back. A little out of curiosity and a little out of common courtesy. You wouldn’t leave someone hanging if they went to shake your hand or give you a high five.

But next time you sign in, there it is. A small message that spells doom for your sanity. “So-and-so has poked you. Do you want to poke back?”. And unlike the real-world equivalent, you cannot forget about this poke. Because that message is always there to remind you. It just sits there, ferreting its way into you subconscious until it gets the better of you and you click yes. Yes you do want to poke back. Why the hell not?!

Soon it becomes second nature to ‘poke back’. You log in, poke back, check messages then get on with whatever work you were just procrastinating from. It becomes a way of life. But the act of poking is a never ending cycle: you poke them, they poke back, you poke them, ad infinitum. You can’t stop, because you don’t want to ‘lose’. You don’t even know what you would lose, only that you’d lose it.

Going back to the playground metaphor, you is very similar to an old childhood argument:
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“You’re ugly!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”

And this goes on until one child hits the other or the school bell rings. But there is no school bell in life. Only death, and do we really want to be poking into our 70’s, 80’s or when we receive our telegram from the queen?

The solution is simple. Below I have provided a message to copy and paste. When someone pokes you, simply send them this message. I promise you won’t have trouble with poking again.

“Dear Sir/Madam (delete where applicable),
I was born with a rare condition know as micro-tendonitis. In layman’s terms, it is an illness that seriously affected my extremities as a young child. In my teens, I lost use of my fingers and later had to have them amputated to stop further spread.

Now a fingerless person, I take great offence to your ‘poke’. I understand that you may have meant it as harmless fun, but it has hurt me considerably. Whilst I will accept a written apology this time, I must warn you that any future jokes about fingers will be met with a lawsuit.

Yours truly,
[Whatever Your Name Is] ”

Good luck in your poke-free world.

:D

http://sunraybeamfreshair.deviantart.com/art/Poke-46290675

Flip Charts

Flip Charts are funny. Who knew?

:D

I'm A Geek And Proud

It started with a staircase.

I was buying a book. It is something I do when I'm in need of a book to read. I've learnt that it is usually the most effective way of dealing with the problem.

There was a certain book I was searching for, recommended by a Russian girl. 'American Gods' by Neil Gaiman for those curious enough. I saw a sign saying 'General Fiction' and figured that since the book was both general and fiction, I'd almost certainly find it amongst these shelves. I didn't.

A brief question to an assistant and I was told that I could find the relevant book upstairs in the Science Fiction section. And here is where my rant begins.

Why am I forced to walk upstairs to buy a science fiction book?! I realise that they have to separate the books. I note that 'Crime Fiction' and 'Horror' were also separate sections. But science fiction was the only fiction section kept upstairs, with all the non-fiction stuff.

What makes Science Fiction such a thing of horror that it has to be hidden away from the general public? Are we really living in a world where people would rather read about murder and sex than about wizards and gods?

OK, maybe the trip upstairs wasn't so much of a big deal, but it got me thinking. The book segregation was just the tip of the iceberg. It was representative of the way geeks are treated in the outside world.

Why is it that people are afraid to say "I read comics" for fear that someone will sneer "Aren't they for kids?” usually someone whose only contact with the written word is the pizza takeaway menu that they regularly order from. You know, the type of person that is living proof the phrase 'survival of the fittest' died with the invention of the microwave.

It's okay to say you read 'Atonement' but not anything by Terry Pratchett because one is deemed high art. They both have words and both require the same amount of intellect. Why the difference?

Why is it deemed obsessive to watch something like 'Star Trek' religiously, but when the whole of the world is watching 'Lost', then you are a fool not to be in front of your TV each and every week?

So, at this point, I stand up from my cheap plastic chair to face the circle of people around me; a bizarro AA-esque meeting. I hold my head up high and say "My name is Chris. And I am a geek."

My name is Chris and I know the first and last names of the Serenity Crew.

My name is Chris and I could write a passionate essay on 'Why Greedo Shouldn't Have Shot First'.

My name is Chris and I collect comic books. I know that X-Men is a metaphor for persecution of people who are different, and that Spiderman plays to the idea that if we have power, is it our responsibility to use it to help people. But really, I just like reading about people who wear tights, fight crime and say witty lines. The metaphors are just a bonus.

My name is Chris and I still shed a tear when Buffy impales Angel and sends him to hell (Discovered this yesterday).

My name is Chris and I have spent days of my life trying to get better and better at Guitar Hero. And yes, I realise that I should just learn a real guitar, but the game rewards me with messages saying how much I rock.

My name is Chris and I know how to play 'Magic the Gathering' and 'Yu-Gi-Oh'.

My name is Chris and I once debated with an eight year old as to which Pokemon was better.

My name is Chris and yes, I have played Dungeons and Dragons. And loved it.

And I will stand proud. Because although I may have done all of these and a dozen other geeky things, I am no better or worse than anyone who hasn't.

I don't live in my parents’ basement. I wash daily. I'm not overweight. I go out mostly everyday and I meet people and I socialise. Girls only scare me the requisite amount that they should. I can talk about sport (a little), politics (a little) and gossip (too much). I function in society.

And I'm sure that there are hundreds like me; people who like science fiction and comics and videogames but look and act like everyone else that doesn't. We are not freaks and, therefore, we shouldn't be scorned.

And we shouldn't have to climb a staircase to get to our books!

:)

http://steiner0101.deviantart.com/art/SPIDERMAN-14894162

A Guide To Hmmms

Hm - An agreement. It is the equivalent of nodding your head to get the speaker to continue the story. Also, a misspelling of 'him'.

Hmm - "I'm not quite sure I agree with your last statement".

Hmmm - "I'm thinking of ideas"

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm - "I've fallen asleep on the 'm' key"

:D

http://shinebubbles.deviantart.com/art/hmmm-61146470

The Morning After

You don't even realize you are awake at first. But a dry mouth and a churning stomach are usually signs you aren't dreaming or that you've seriously annoyed the Sandman. You open one eye to check. Sunlight streams in. Your body hurts.

You shut your eyes because somehow you link your body hurting with the fact that you had dared open them. With your world in darkness, you try and figure out where you are. The bed feels familiar, so you guess that it belongs to you. That is a good sign. You pat yourself down for injuries. There are none. The second good sign of the morning.

A headache begins to form and with it memories form as well. You remember drinking. In fact, most of your memories involve drink of some form. You remember dancing. You remember a combination of the two, which only ended in spilt drink. A waste of good alcohol.

You decide that eventually you will have to face the music and see daylight, so you take the 'rip the plaster off quick' approach and open your eyes wide. The room is a mess. You see a pizza box and remember buying a pizza in a drunken hunger. You see that your clothes are scattered around the room and wonder why you were walking around your room whilst undressing. And then you see your phone.

It seems like a device used for sending and receiving calls, but you know the truth. It is the device of the devil. You know you used it last night. You remember that. You just don't remember the exact words used. You briefly entertain the notion of just deleting the offending messages and moving on with your life. But curiosity gets the better of you.

You sent lyrics! In your drunken state, somehow you thought that by sending someone the words to a song you will spread the fun you were having. In your mind it'd be exactly the same experience.

And whilst you read the misspelt and embarrassing things you've text, slowly the worse memories of the night come back. The memories that your brain tried really hard to repress.

The fact that you almost decided to sleep in a car park because it had lights on. To your base mind, light meant warmth and so the only reason you didn't break in and curl up is because it would have involved making a leap over a motorway and you didn't want to plummet to your death.

You remember finding an open gate and wandering in, curious, only to get lost in its labyrinthine grounds. To escape, you attempted to climb through a spiky bush and climb a fence, but the plant was so spiky you didn't even make it past the first branch.

You remember all of these things and once again you wish you had never opened your eyes. You send apologetic texts to those people you contacted last night, roll back over and go to sleep.

You hope that if you forget the events of your night out, everyone else will. This thought, and the last of the alcohol coursing through your veins, means that you sleep well.

:)

http://zlok.deviantart.com/art/hangover-1664587

Five Unconventional Things To Give Up For Lent

This time of year everyone seems to be giving the same things up. Smoking, chocolate, pizza; the list goes on endlessly and repetitively. People want to breathe better or be slimmer, healthier versions of themselves.

Well I'm here to say they shouldn't! Well, they should, but why are they waiting till Easter to sort out their smoking habit? You want to quit smoking, then stop lighting up those little white sticks and start chewing gum or something.

Lent should be a time for experimentation. You only have to give up something for forty days and so this something should be more interesting than booze, smoke and lard. You should be seeing how different your life would be without one of the staples that currently defines it.

In honour of this, I have provided a list of possible ideas below. You may not choose something from the list itself, but I hope that it sparks ideas for something in your own life that it would be interesting to live without.

Air
Okay, sure, this may not be something you want to give up entirely. But we are living in a current state of fear thanks to global warming and it would be selfish to believe that the carbon dioxide you emit has nothing to do with it.

So stop breathing so much! Take one breath where you would have once taken two. Then, after forty days, write Al Gore a letter to tell him of your heroic effort towards saving the planet. Maybe he'll give you a badge.

Religion/Atheism
If you believe in God, stop now. He won't mind that you have drifted off for forty days. Besides, it is his holiday anyway. Try and live life without the pressure of religion on your back. Break a few commandments. Disrespect your father. Do the unthinkable with your neighbour's wife.

However, if you are currently living the carefree life of an atheist, start going to church. Confess all your sinful ways and sing a few hymns. Let God into your life and see whether it takes you on a magical journey.

Your strong hand
Right-handed? Start using your left. Also, vice versa. Ignore the people that think you're a bit thick because your handwriting is rubbish. They're just jealous.

Language
Mimes have got the right idea. People don't need fancy words to tell each other what they want or what they feel. Hand gestures and invisible walls can tell us all we need to know.

This may also be a good time to go travelling. Without the burden of learning foreign words, you'll be a huge hit in France, Spain or whether else you decide to go. Just remember, in Portugal the sign used to mean "ROCK!" here instead means that you slept with the person's wife. (True story)

Giving Up
That's right. Give up whatever you've given up in the past. Spent the last four years not smoking? Then puff away to your heart's content for the next forty days. On a diet? Start gulping down those greasy chips and butter soup. It'll be good for you in the long run.

Hope this list has helped you and changed your life for the better.

:D

http://luminatii.deviantart.com/art/le-smoking-giraffe-8811413

A Little Self-Promotion

Thought I'd spend a little time pointing you towards the pictures above and saying 'Look! Look how cool they are!'.

I also want to say 'I wrote that!'. These very pictures are the images that I wrote down in my script 'Tale of Teeth'. It is all about Geoff (Top Left, with the beard), the tooth fairy, owing money to Santa (Guy in the red suit. Duh!) after a poor showing during a poker game. In order to get the money in time, he is forced to hammer out kids' teeth because they just don't lose them quick enough.

It is such an awesome feeling to visit a set and see my imagined world brought to life with wooden flats and rented props. And it only gets even better when 'action' is called and the actors start saying my lines. The very words of dialogue that I have spent hours/days/weeks trying to perfect are now being said aloud by real people and then captured on tape.

After producing a film, I had lost the magic that makes filmmaking such an amazing profession. One step onto this set and one line of dialogue have rekindled my film romance and the spark that makes me risk living life poor and unemployed for the joy of being a part of something like this.

Also, Santa told people that he loved the script before ever knowing who I was.

I am a happy bunny!

:D

People

People are curious creatures. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are loud. Some are quiet. All can change their volume depending on their surroundings.

People can live in a hot desert or in the cold waste of the North Pole. They can live on the highest mountains or survive at the depths of the oceans.

People can smile when they are hurting, cry when they are happy or laugh when they don't find a joke that funny.

People are unique and yet find comfort in similarities: same taste in film, music, food. They love company, yet sit apart from each other on public transport. They are weary of strangers, yet will offer services when someone is in need.

People are fascinating. You could lose hours of your life watching how they move, walk, talk, laugh, joke, cry, dance and just be.

But sometimes, usually when you want it the least, people suck!

And that is all I have to say.

:(

http://lachyen.deviantart.com/art/The-Many-Faces-45804641

Facebook Dilemmas And How To Solve Them: Part Five

You - The Stalker

Facebook is a delight if you really want to 'know' your friends. You can see what they like to do, what they like to listen to when they do what they like to do and who they like to listen with when they listen to the stuff they like whilst doing the things they like to do.

But is it not slightly creepy that you know that your friend is eating toast right now? Or that you know where they'll be next Saturday? Or that you know who they have spoken to and what about?

Are you never freaked out a little bit when someone asks you how much you enjoyed your sandwich when you never told them that you ate one? Just because your status says that you are enjoying a sandwich, does not mean they can use that for an excuse to bring it into everyday conversation.

And that girl you have a crush on? Don't you think you're being a little bit creepy when you refresh her page just to see if she's done anything else? Doesn't it just feel like you are essentially sitting in a tree outside her house, waiting for a flash of panty or bra? With one hand holding binoculars and the other hand holding...stop it you filthy person!

This has to stop! We can't be relying on a website to tell us what our friends like instead of asking them. It'll be the death of human interaction. Where will we be without the fallback small talk of "So, what you doing this weekend?"? With facebook, we already know!

So I propose that you have two options. The first is a complete ban. You delete your details, never accept invites and refuse to tell the status bar what you are doing. This is an easy way to make your friends pay more attention to who you really are.

The second method will not only do this, it will separate the wheat friends from the chaff friends. Instead of deleting your interests, throw a few fake ones in. Say you like hardcore Swedish metal when really you're a Jack Johnson fan. Say that you're going away to France for a wine tasting event. Then, if a friend uses these as a point of conversation, you know that they don't really 'know' you. They are just a facebook impostor!

And not a person you should waste good time refreshing their page.

:D

http://ohiodeviants.deviantart.com/art/Stalking-on-Glass-18951890

Facebook Dilemmas And How To Solve Them: Part Four

"Join Us" People

Facebook is a social thing. It's all about networking and seeing what your friends are doing, when they're doing it and how much they like it. Your profile is basically you. Probably a little cleaner and world-suitable but you all the same.

Using this metaphor, you visit your friends by clicking on their profile, you speak to them by leaving comments and you poke them by, well, poking them. It is a little, self-sufficient cyber world.

Still keeping with the metaphor, it becomes very easy to see why all these groups and application invites become a problem. Joining a group is the same as joining a group in real life. So it's all really good if you like sandwiches and then join a "Sandwiches lovers" group. But it shouldn't be your job to start recruiting other sandwich lovers to join as well. It's online bullying. It's rude.

I don't want to sign into my profile and see that people think I should hate Jimmy Carr (I don't), or find drunken texts amusing (I do). That's for me to decide. In this real world metaphor, this becomes people on the street handing out leaflets. Except more annoying because I can actively avoid the street where those leaflet people patrol.

There has also become an alarming trend, if anything facebook-related could be referred to as 'alarming', in joining groups just 'because'. In real life, if I join a yoga group, I've got to actively go and do yoga. But people get invited, look at the group once and join, never to visit again. It becomes an alternative to the interests part in your profile section. Are you really interested in saving the rainforest or do you just want people to think you are?

Applications are similar. I'm so happy for everyone for playing poker or finding out what drug they are or which character in 'Hollyoaks' they are most like. But I don't feel like knowing these things about myself. If I did, I'd add the application.

At this stage, this has become more of a rant than a dilemma, but I will still offer a solution. If you agree, or even if you don't, stop inviting people to applications. Stop joining groups you have no intention of revisiting. Think hard about how many groups you are a member of and delete those that you haven't clicked on in the last month.

Remember, your profile is you. If you're too busy being cannabis or actively hating Jimmy Carr, you have no time for the fun stuff.

Like poking people.

:D

http://wattamelon.deviantart.com/art/02-31552542

Not Today Either

Chris is not writing a blog today either, because he's too busy getting drunk! Hopefully normal service will resume tomorrow - if he's not too hungover . . .

http://domedome.deviantart.com/art/Drunk-48538916

Not Today

I wish I could write something today. I can't.

Sorry.

:(

http://enides.deviantart.com/art/We-Don-t-Hitchhike-Here-45307541