Great music blog from Simon Reynolds here, who argues that the internet has blurred the lines between what is seen as "underground", and what is seen as "mainstream". Everybody now has access to a wide variety of music at the touch of a button, which means that if you so wish, you can go and easily discover new music from the comfort of your own bedroom. In previous generations, mine included, there were often physical barriers to entry into an underground scene - either by virtue of not being old enough to get into clubs or gigs, or simply being too far away from a decent record shop, so that it became physically impossible to listen (or even know about) music which was not played on heavy rotation on the radio.
It meant that there had to be a big psychological step for any person who wanted to become part of any scene, a step into the unknown, or at the least having the bottle to go into that musty smelling record store and ask for an obscure name of a band that you had jotted down on a notebook while listening to John Peel. That barrier is simply not there anymore, and as soon as a genre has a name, you can simply google it and find out what exactly it sounds like without handing over some of your hard-earned cash.
Monday 21 December 2009
Wednesday 9 December 2009
'Kidults' living with their parents longer
The Office for National Statistics have released a study saying that many young adults in their mid-20s and early 30s, are increasingly postponing the transition to adulthood.
It seems that 1/3 of them say they are still living at home because they cannot afford to get a toehold on the property ladder by buying or renting. But that means that 2/3rds of them are staying through choice.
I find this very strange. I couldn't wait to leave home, and I saw it as an important part of growing up - having my own space, being independent, and being responsible to no-one but myself. And frankly, I saw the people who stayed at home as dullards and a little bit weird to be honest: why would you stay with your parents, and abide by the rules set down for you when you were a teenager, when you could live by yourself, and do exactly as you pleased.
It was made easier for me, as I left home for university, but even once my course had finished, I moved back to my mum's for only 5 or 6 months, while I found a job and got some money together. Once I had enough money to afford a deposit and month's rent, I moved out. Yes, there were some tough times, and yes, I couldn't always afford to eat properly, but that is part and parcel of gaining independence, and growing up. You make your mistakes when you are young, so that you learn how to budget properly, you learn how to cook, you learn how to fend for yourselves. It was a greater education than anything else I have done, and I can't help but feel that those people who stay at home are not only isolating themselves from the joys of living by yourself, but also willingly infantilising themselves.
It seems that 1/3 of them say they are still living at home because they cannot afford to get a toehold on the property ladder by buying or renting. But that means that 2/3rds of them are staying through choice.
I find this very strange. I couldn't wait to leave home, and I saw it as an important part of growing up - having my own space, being independent, and being responsible to no-one but myself. And frankly, I saw the people who stayed at home as dullards and a little bit weird to be honest: why would you stay with your parents, and abide by the rules set down for you when you were a teenager, when you could live by yourself, and do exactly as you pleased.
It was made easier for me, as I left home for university, but even once my course had finished, I moved back to my mum's for only 5 or 6 months, while I found a job and got some money together. Once I had enough money to afford a deposit and month's rent, I moved out. Yes, there were some tough times, and yes, I couldn't always afford to eat properly, but that is part and parcel of gaining independence, and growing up. You make your mistakes when you are young, so that you learn how to budget properly, you learn how to cook, you learn how to fend for yourselves. It was a greater education than anything else I have done, and I can't help but feel that those people who stay at home are not only isolating themselves from the joys of living by yourself, but also willingly infantilising themselves.
stewart lee interview
I am a long time fan of Stewart Lee, from way back when he popped onto TV with Richard Herring with Fist of Fun. They then provided great Sunday morning hangover entertainment with TMWRNJ. An interview in the Guardian provides a fascinating insight into how and why he chooses what to write his stand-up material about. One interesting thing is the following quote:
It's interesting to me that apparently distasteful comments from the right against weak targets tend to draw a lot less media fire than apparently distasteful comments from the left against hard targets. That's one of the threads that runs through the show and that people hopefully pick up on."A very valid point, although in fairness, the same is also true vice versa. I hate the shit that comes out of littlejohn, davidson's etc mouths, but maybe I just notice it more because I am already looking to be offended. The only other option would be to have no comedy, and no targeting of anything - which would make for rather boring comedy and life in general.
Wednesday 2 December 2009
Haven't posted in a while
I realise the irony of this, given the name of the blog, but I haven't been inspired to write anything. In a couple of cases, I dipped my toe into the water, but the post ran out of steam, and now they sit, unfinished and sulking on my blog dashboard.
I shall endeavour to write about something every day, it's not like I don't have opinions about absolutely everything, it's just a question of writing it all down. Damn my laziness.
I shall endeavour to write about something every day, it's not like I don't have opinions about absolutely everything, it's just a question of writing it all down. Damn my laziness.
Monday 19 October 2009
Back to Bexleyheath
I found myself at a loose end this weekend, with 4 long hours to kill between dropping my wife off for a rehearsal, and hearing her perform in a concert later that night. As the concert was close by, it seemed the perfect opportunity to re-visit Bexleyheath.
During my teenage years, I went through Bexleyheath twice every day, on my way to and from school. As such, it does hold a little place in my heart: the many hours that I stood waiting at bus stops with friends, telling all kinds of lies about how far we had got with members of the opposite sex; the scrums to get on every bus, with old ladies tutting as boys and girls shoved each other in a desperate race to nab the best seats on the bus; fireworks being let off at bus stops, and on one memorable event, on the top of a 132; evading the security guards in the Broadway for as long as possible after closing time; watching form afar as someone dumped a load of bubble bath into the fountain by the clocktower. All of these rites of passage, of young dumb kids with nothing else better to do, are indelibly marked on my memory. But mostly I remember the seemingly eternal boredom of waiting for buses.
My return seemed to herald the first day of winter, as a cold biting wind whipped across and into me, buffeting my spirits and good cheer. I pulled my jacket tighter, and pressed on, past the laughing buddha and Asda, but the town centre seemed to echo my despondancy, looking miserable and grey. This wasn't just a reflection of the weather, but of the prevailing recessionary gloom: many of the shops had closed down, and the ones that were left looked bedraggled and worn out.
The Bexleyheath of my youth, despite there being not much to do, seemed like a town where something new was always being put up or renovated: a pedestrianised section here, a supermarket there, a new cinema and resturant complex here. Now though, it has a melancholic air: as if it's quest for constant renovation had tired it out. Resignation to its fate permeated the maudlin concrete structure of the Broadway: a realisation that such a pursuit of excellence was doomed to failure with the behemoth Bluewater on it's doorstep.
It also seemed much smaller than I remember. One Saturday, I refused to walk from one end of the Broadway to the other, because I felt it was too far. And possibly also to spite my friend, who only wanted us to walk back again in a fruitless pursuit of a girl. I distinctly remember one end of the broadway seeming like an impossible distance to travel, with so many different shops offering so many different things to the explorer intrepid enough to venture it's whole length. You'd be lucky if you didn't get lost in such a huge jungle. No such dangers on Saturday, as it only took me a couple of minutes to walk the entire length of the Broadway.
It was diffifult to know whether my horizons had grown, or whether Bexleyheath's had shrunk, but the afternoon was an intensely depressing experience. I am glad that I have moved away and moved on, and this was a transitory experience, rather than a common way to fill a weekend.
During my teenage years, I went through Bexleyheath twice every day, on my way to and from school. As such, it does hold a little place in my heart: the many hours that I stood waiting at bus stops with friends, telling all kinds of lies about how far we had got with members of the opposite sex; the scrums to get on every bus, with old ladies tutting as boys and girls shoved each other in a desperate race to nab the best seats on the bus; fireworks being let off at bus stops, and on one memorable event, on the top of a 132; evading the security guards in the Broadway for as long as possible after closing time; watching form afar as someone dumped a load of bubble bath into the fountain by the clocktower. All of these rites of passage, of young dumb kids with nothing else better to do, are indelibly marked on my memory. But mostly I remember the seemingly eternal boredom of waiting for buses.
My return seemed to herald the first day of winter, as a cold biting wind whipped across and into me, buffeting my spirits and good cheer. I pulled my jacket tighter, and pressed on, past the laughing buddha and Asda, but the town centre seemed to echo my despondancy, looking miserable and grey. This wasn't just a reflection of the weather, but of the prevailing recessionary gloom: many of the shops had closed down, and the ones that were left looked bedraggled and worn out.
The Bexleyheath of my youth, despite there being not much to do, seemed like a town where something new was always being put up or renovated: a pedestrianised section here, a supermarket there, a new cinema and resturant complex here. Now though, it has a melancholic air: as if it's quest for constant renovation had tired it out. Resignation to its fate permeated the maudlin concrete structure of the Broadway: a realisation that such a pursuit of excellence was doomed to failure with the behemoth Bluewater on it's doorstep.
It also seemed much smaller than I remember. One Saturday, I refused to walk from one end of the Broadway to the other, because I felt it was too far. And possibly also to spite my friend, who only wanted us to walk back again in a fruitless pursuit of a girl. I distinctly remember one end of the broadway seeming like an impossible distance to travel, with so many different shops offering so many different things to the explorer intrepid enough to venture it's whole length. You'd be lucky if you didn't get lost in such a huge jungle. No such dangers on Saturday, as it only took me a couple of minutes to walk the entire length of the Broadway.
It was diffifult to know whether my horizons had grown, or whether Bexleyheath's had shrunk, but the afternoon was an intensely depressing experience. I am glad that I have moved away and moved on, and this was a transitory experience, rather than a common way to fill a weekend.
Friday 25 September 2009
footballers, divers, and the archer's bow
An interesting study has just been published by the University of Portsmouth, which researched the ability to determine when footballers dive, or when they are legitimately fouled.
They asked a group of people to watch a set of videos of football games, and say which tackles they thought were dives, and which were legitimate falls from tackles. By analysing the results, there was agreement from the participants on the result: a significant amount agreed on which were dives, which were real, and which ones they couldn't be sure of.
The boffins then analysed the dives, and came up with 4 points of similarity on them, but it's down to biomechanics: the histrionics of the diver are actually a give-away, because their body acts in completely the opposite way to how you would expect it to behave in natural circumstances.
They asked a group of people to watch a set of videos of football games, and say which tackles they thought were dives, and which were legitimate falls from tackles. By analysing the results, there was agreement from the participants on the result: a significant amount agreed on which were dives, which were real, and which ones they couldn't be sure of.
The boffins then analysed the dives, and came up with 4 points of similarity on them, but it's down to biomechanics: the histrionics of the diver are actually a give-away, because their body acts in completely the opposite way to how you would expect it to behave in natural circumstances.
The tackled player will put their arms back, often they will put them back behind their head, the legs will go up behind their bodies, their chest is stuck out and often their head will go back.The researches called this an Archer's bow, because: "people are bowed back like in a bow and arrow." They then set up a 2nd study, where some footballers were told to dive, and some were told not to dive, but to only fall under a fair tackle: they then showed them to the group, which got them right:
What is interesting about that particular behaviour is that you don't witness that in actual natural falls. If you are losing your balance you put your hands on either side to try to regain your balance.
Biomechanically people don't stick their hands above them in the air when they are falling over. This just doesn't happen
What we found was there was a perfect correspondence between the instructions to the diving or the non-diving player and the perceiver. So taking those two studies together we could show there was consistency and also there was accuracy.
Thursday 24 September 2009
Borough market in danger from rail expansion
Borough market is apparently in danger of closing, as the much-mooted rail expansion plans eventually start. A new railway bridge will mean that a considerable chunk of market space will be lost forever.
The fear is that what will be left is a Borough Market-Lite: with all the good and interesting stalls which made it such a great stop off point, priced out of the place, to be replaced by organic lifestyle-branded companies.
I think that would be a great shame, although it's already happening to a certain extent - the first time that I went there, it was already set up as a "foodie" mecca, which had lots of little interesting stalls, replete with goodies that tempted the taste buds. The temptation is still there, but the little stalls seem to have been squeezed out to a certain degree. I think the main difference is that I caught it just as it had turned into this foodie mecca, so the stalls there were doing it as the end result of their labour: now a lot of the time it seems that their stall is the beginning of the process: trying to get a brand going, get noticed at Borough market, sell the concept to an investment company, get the brand into a supermarket.
It has also noticeably turned into a (posher) fast food court: near enough every stall is churning out a variation on meat and bread (or veggie burger and bread) or something similar. The original reason for going now seems almost incidental to buying a burger or sausage. Yes, the meat may be of a higher quality, but essentially it feels like a place to get a quick (but expensive) bite to eat, and possibly also buy some raw ingredients while you are there.
I will still go, and it will be interesting to see what happens, but the food on sale there can increasingly be sourced from elsewhere, and it is still very expensive: the food will always be for a rare treat, or a special supper, rather than somewhere I buy all my food from.
The fear is that what will be left is a Borough Market-Lite: with all the good and interesting stalls which made it such a great stop off point, priced out of the place, to be replaced by organic lifestyle-branded companies.
I think that would be a great shame, although it's already happening to a certain extent - the first time that I went there, it was already set up as a "foodie" mecca, which had lots of little interesting stalls, replete with goodies that tempted the taste buds. The temptation is still there, but the little stalls seem to have been squeezed out to a certain degree. I think the main difference is that I caught it just as it had turned into this foodie mecca, so the stalls there were doing it as the end result of their labour: now a lot of the time it seems that their stall is the beginning of the process: trying to get a brand going, get noticed at Borough market, sell the concept to an investment company, get the brand into a supermarket.
It has also noticeably turned into a (posher) fast food court: near enough every stall is churning out a variation on meat and bread (or veggie burger and bread) or something similar. The original reason for going now seems almost incidental to buying a burger or sausage. Yes, the meat may be of a higher quality, but essentially it feels like a place to get a quick (but expensive) bite to eat, and possibly also buy some raw ingredients while you are there.
I will still go, and it will be interesting to see what happens, but the food on sale there can increasingly be sourced from elsewhere, and it is still very expensive: the food will always be for a rare treat, or a special supper, rather than somewhere I buy all my food from.
Tuesday 22 September 2009
The Manager: Guardian podcast about football managers
Just in case you are interested, the Guardian ran a great podcast series about the history of the football manager, which has just finished. You can catch up with it here.
It charts the rise of the football manager in the 1930's, through the 60's, 70's and into the present day, presenting a long-term view of how the role has changed, and how it might further change in the future.
It's quite interesting from the perspective at looking at the archtypes of the modern manager, and how some have faded away and some have changed and adapted to the modern game.
It charts the rise of the football manager in the 1930's, through the 60's, 70's and into the present day, presenting a long-term view of how the role has changed, and how it might further change in the future.
It's quite interesting from the perspective at looking at the archtypes of the modern manager, and how some have faded away and some have changed and adapted to the modern game.
Friday 4 September 2009
[500] days of summer
The unique selling point of this film is that it is different from normal romantic comedies, and this is true of the plot at least, but I have my doubts that the conclusions that it draws about the nature of love and relationships are any different from a typical Hollywood romance comedy.
The film deals with the end of a relationship - and not in the nuclear, all-guns blazing breakdown way, but in the more usual way that relationships end - one person realises that they don't feel the same as the other person, and lets that other person down as gently as possible. The central conceit of the film is that it flips between the different days of the relationship, so that you view the end of the break-up and the beginning of the relationship at the same time. This stops the film from becoming either too depressing or too mawkish.
I think it does a very good job of detailing both parts of the relationship really well - the little looks, flirting and anticipation before you know that the other person likes you back are well-observed, as is how much significance you put onto every conversation when you are first getting to know someone. The film communicates the sheer joy of falling in love and starting a new relationship incredibly well.
It does the same at the denouement: when Summer ends the relationship, the mundanity and calmness of the act also rings true - it ends not with a bang, but with a whimper: a matter of fact resolution that leaves Tom, the main character of the piece, confused and alone, and seeking answers as to why it happened.
The dichotomy of the film - between the hope of a new relationship and the despair at it's end - is best shown in a middle section of the film, where a split-screen camera (one side captioned Expectations, and one captioned Reality) follows Tom to a party where he hopes to win Summer back. The brutality of the widening gap between the two provides a memorable scene, one that surely everyone would recognise from their own lives at least once.
Despite these well rendered observations though, the film lacks a little something. We learn little about Summer and her motivations, which is a bit odd considering the film is about her. This may be intentional - what we do learn is that she is very much a closed book, and doesn't let people in easily. By the end of the film, Tom is still confused by her motivations and character, and the film I think reflects that. As Summer floats from scene to scene, you never really get the chance to connect with the character, to the detriment of enjoyment of the film.
The end of the film is also jarring - the director and writer spend much of the time demonstrating that fate and love do not exist, and that films and songs reinforce this cliched view of the world. Then, right at the end, it changes its mind and direction, and also follows that cliche to the letter.
Overall, not a bad film, but the lapses into easy cliche and sentimentality, and the lack of any really rounded characters except for Tom, means it lacks a certain something. It won't ever be a film that you absolutely love which, given the subject matter of the film, is really rather fitting.
The film deals with the end of a relationship - and not in the nuclear, all-guns blazing breakdown way, but in the more usual way that relationships end - one person realises that they don't feel the same as the other person, and lets that other person down as gently as possible. The central conceit of the film is that it flips between the different days of the relationship, so that you view the end of the break-up and the beginning of the relationship at the same time. This stops the film from becoming either too depressing or too mawkish.
I think it does a very good job of detailing both parts of the relationship really well - the little looks, flirting and anticipation before you know that the other person likes you back are well-observed, as is how much significance you put onto every conversation when you are first getting to know someone. The film communicates the sheer joy of falling in love and starting a new relationship incredibly well.
It does the same at the denouement: when Summer ends the relationship, the mundanity and calmness of the act also rings true - it ends not with a bang, but with a whimper: a matter of fact resolution that leaves Tom, the main character of the piece, confused and alone, and seeking answers as to why it happened.
The dichotomy of the film - between the hope of a new relationship and the despair at it's end - is best shown in a middle section of the film, where a split-screen camera (one side captioned Expectations, and one captioned Reality) follows Tom to a party where he hopes to win Summer back. The brutality of the widening gap between the two provides a memorable scene, one that surely everyone would recognise from their own lives at least once.
Despite these well rendered observations though, the film lacks a little something. We learn little about Summer and her motivations, which is a bit odd considering the film is about her. This may be intentional - what we do learn is that she is very much a closed book, and doesn't let people in easily. By the end of the film, Tom is still confused by her motivations and character, and the film I think reflects that. As Summer floats from scene to scene, you never really get the chance to connect with the character, to the detriment of enjoyment of the film.
The end of the film is also jarring - the director and writer spend much of the time demonstrating that fate and love do not exist, and that films and songs reinforce this cliched view of the world. Then, right at the end, it changes its mind and direction, and also follows that cliche to the letter.
Overall, not a bad film, but the lapses into easy cliche and sentimentality, and the lack of any really rounded characters except for Tom, means it lacks a certain something. It won't ever be a film that you absolutely love which, given the subject matter of the film, is really rather fitting.
Wednesday 2 September 2009
Musings on the first couple of weeks of the football season
The football season has finally arrived, and the Premier League really does look like it's going to be a cracker. I have refrained from talking about it thus far, as you can't really make any kind of hypothesis on how the season will pan out from just one game. Of course, you can hardly do the same from three games, but we have enough information to draw some conclusions.
First of all, Arsenal have looked really good so far: destroying Everton and Portsmouth in the League, and doing the same to Celtic in the Champion's League qualifier. They were also desperately unlucky in the game against Manchester United, who scored from a Wayne Rooney penalty, and an unbelievable own goal from Abou Diaby. These were their only real forays into the Arsenal penalty for the whole game, until the last 10 minutes when Arsenal went in search of an equiliser. I don't think I have ever seen a Manchester United side look so pedestrian and short of ideas in attack, and while they will get better, they are a poor relation compared to last year's vintage.
Liverpool also look very ordinary, while Chelsea look their normal, efficient, surly self. The closest rivals to the top four appear to be Tottenham and Manchester Ciy, both of whom have strengthened considerably over the summer, and will be hard to beat.
First of all, Arsenal have looked really good so far: destroying Everton and Portsmouth in the League, and doing the same to Celtic in the Champion's League qualifier. They were also desperately unlucky in the game against Manchester United, who scored from a Wayne Rooney penalty, and an unbelievable own goal from Abou Diaby. These were their only real forays into the Arsenal penalty for the whole game, until the last 10 minutes when Arsenal went in search of an equiliser. I don't think I have ever seen a Manchester United side look so pedestrian and short of ideas in attack, and while they will get better, they are a poor relation compared to last year's vintage.
Liverpool also look very ordinary, while Chelsea look their normal, efficient, surly self. The closest rivals to the top four appear to be Tottenham and Manchester Ciy, both of whom have strengthened considerably over the summer, and will be hard to beat.
Wednesday 19 August 2009
loss aversion theory
Just pulled out this little factoid from an article concerning the NHS-bashing of American right-wingers:
Ariely and Carmon present this finding as corroboration of what is known as the endowment effect. Once someone owns something, once it is theirs, they value it more. This is closely allied to another effect beloved of behavioural economists — loss aversion. People much prefer avoiding losses to making gains.It has no real purpose or impact on my day-to-day life, but I found it interesting, all the same.
Wednesday 12 August 2009
Premier League - Top 6/Bottom 6 predictions
Despite the naysayers whinging every year that the Premier League is boring and predictable, I think that this season promises to be a classic, with the top 3 from last season (Liverpool, Manchester United and Chelsea) very evenly matched, and with the added bonus of a sub-plot on the second tier of teams in the fight for the 4th Champions League place.
It's difficult to pick the champions this year, as both Manchester United and Liverpool seem to have been weakened by the loss of some of their key players, and their replacements not being of an equal value. Chelsea have not had the same problem, but they do have a new manager, so it remains to be seen whether he is a Scolari or a Hiddink, and whether he can get the team to gel together and play in the style that he wants straight from the off.
In the fight for the 4th spot, my heart says Arsenal, but Manchester City have spent mega-bucks over the summer, and seem set to continue that splurge right up to the end of the transfer window. They do have a habit of fucking themselves over, but they have bought enough class to be real challengers for that champions league place. Everton could also be there or thereabouts as well - they were very strong in the 2nd half of last season, and that should continue. I expect the fight to be very very tight - a couple of points will separate 4th and 5th.
Down at the other end, I think that Portsmouth will go down - boardroom chaos generally filters through to the pitch, they have sold most of their better players already, with the rest of them looking like they will be leaving soon as well.
You'd generally save the other two relegation places for newly promoted sides, but I think this year will be different - Hull were dreadful after Christmas last season, and I just can't see them picking up the 25 or so points in the first half of the season that they did last season. That leaves one spot left, which will be filled by either Wolves or Burnley. The latter gave a couple of Premier League sides a bloody nose in the cups last season, but doing that week in and week out is a different prospect. Wolves at least have some experience of what is required in the Premier League, so think they'll scrape marginally more points than the other sides down there.
Predictions Top Six:
Predictions (Bottom Six):
15. Bolton
16. Wigan
17. Wolves
18. Hull
19. Burnley
20. Portsmouth
It's difficult to pick the champions this year, as both Manchester United and Liverpool seem to have been weakened by the loss of some of their key players, and their replacements not being of an equal value. Chelsea have not had the same problem, but they do have a new manager, so it remains to be seen whether he is a Scolari or a Hiddink, and whether he can get the team to gel together and play in the style that he wants straight from the off.
In the fight for the 4th spot, my heart says Arsenal, but Manchester City have spent mega-bucks over the summer, and seem set to continue that splurge right up to the end of the transfer window. They do have a habit of fucking themselves over, but they have bought enough class to be real challengers for that champions league place. Everton could also be there or thereabouts as well - they were very strong in the 2nd half of last season, and that should continue. I expect the fight to be very very tight - a couple of points will separate 4th and 5th.
Down at the other end, I think that Portsmouth will go down - boardroom chaos generally filters through to the pitch, they have sold most of their better players already, with the rest of them looking like they will be leaving soon as well.
You'd generally save the other two relegation places for newly promoted sides, but I think this year will be different - Hull were dreadful after Christmas last season, and I just can't see them picking up the 25 or so points in the first half of the season that they did last season. That leaves one spot left, which will be filled by either Wolves or Burnley. The latter gave a couple of Premier League sides a bloody nose in the cups last season, but doing that week in and week out is a different prospect. Wolves at least have some experience of what is required in the Premier League, so think they'll scrape marginally more points than the other sides down there.
Predictions Top Six:
- Chelsea
- Manchester United
- Liverpool
- Arsenal (please please please)
- Manchester City
- Everton
Predictions (Bottom Six):
15. Bolton
16. Wigan
17. Wolves
18. Hull
19. Burnley
20. Portsmouth
Thursday 6 August 2009
teletext update
Following on from my previous post about ceefax and teletext finally ending comes an enchanting piece in the guardian (yes yes, i know).
Actually, it's not the piece that I like, but the comments underneath, which provide me with relief and sense of shared history with all those people - crazy to think that so many people had the same ritual as me.
Actually, it's not the piece that I like, but the comments underneath, which provide me with relief and sense of shared history with all those people - crazy to think that so many people had the same ritual as me.
Thursday 30 July 2009
kolo goes to city
So, officially, Kolo has left Arsenal and joined Manchester City which hasn't come as much of a surprise. Like the Adebayor deal, it was all signed and sealed very quickly, with both clubs in agreement about the price, and the players eager to leave.
Unlike the Adebayor deal though, this transfer has left me feeling...unsettled, is the best way I can describe it. Whereas I was glad to see Ade go, I am troubled that Toure has decided to leave. Maybe it's to do with character (Adebayor being horrendously lazy towards the end of his tenure, whereas toure always gave 100%), but I guess it's more to do with the perceived strength in their relative areas of the pitch.
Up front, we have Van Persie, Eduardo, Walcott, Bendtner, Vela to choose from, and we also have attacking options in midfield. So losing Adebayor, although weakening us, doesn't feel like quite as bad a blow. In defence, I don't think we have quite the embaressment of riches of our attacking force, and by selling Toure we have made ourselves even weaker in that department. This is compounded by the fact that Arsene Wenger doesn't appear to be on the lookout for someone else.
Vermaelen may be a better player than Toure, but buying one and selling one still leaves us in the same position we were in last season: worse, if you are that way inclined in your opinion about Senderos (who has returned to the club after his sojourn at Milan).
Ideally, I would like to see another defender come in to the squad, and another defensively-minded midfielder, as I think that those are the two areas of the squad which are the weakest. I guess we'll see once the season starts whether Wenger is right to trust in the players we currently have.
Unlike the Adebayor deal though, this transfer has left me feeling...unsettled, is the best way I can describe it. Whereas I was glad to see Ade go, I am troubled that Toure has decided to leave. Maybe it's to do with character (Adebayor being horrendously lazy towards the end of his tenure, whereas toure always gave 100%), but I guess it's more to do with the perceived strength in their relative areas of the pitch.
Up front, we have Van Persie, Eduardo, Walcott, Bendtner, Vela to choose from, and we also have attacking options in midfield. So losing Adebayor, although weakening us, doesn't feel like quite as bad a blow. In defence, I don't think we have quite the embaressment of riches of our attacking force, and by selling Toure we have made ourselves even weaker in that department. This is compounded by the fact that Arsene Wenger doesn't appear to be on the lookout for someone else.
Vermaelen may be a better player than Toure, but buying one and selling one still leaves us in the same position we were in last season: worse, if you are that way inclined in your opinion about Senderos (who has returned to the club after his sojourn at Milan).
Ideally, I would like to see another defender come in to the squad, and another defensively-minded midfielder, as I think that those are the two areas of the squad which are the weakest. I guess we'll see once the season starts whether Wenger is right to trust in the players we currently have.
Wednesday 29 July 2009
Cycling home: one long slog
I have been cycling into and back from work at least once a week for the last month or so. My first couple of times were pretty nerve-wracking, as I didn't feel confident in my handling skills, nor in the handling skills of those who were driving cars around me. All I could think was that I was only 5 seconds away from a crash at any point.
As a result, I gripped the handlebars so tightly that I actually sprained the muscles in my little finger on my left hand, and I certainly wasn't worried about the time it took to get into work and back home again.
As I have got more confident though, my timings have crept into my consciousness. My time into work is not too bad - about 25 minutes, depending on whether I get caught by traffic lights or so on. My time going back is around the 35 minute mark, and I originally thought that I was just tired from the day (and having already done exercise in the morning).
However, I've found a pretty cool website which has brought my cycle home into greater clarity. Bike Route Toaster allows you to enter in the route that you take home. So far, so google-maps. But one of the cool things that this site does is create an elevation map, so you can see how steep various parts of the climb are.
I knew that certain parts of the route were hills: the last 500 metres contains a bit of a slog up Leigham Vale which was always unwelcome. But after looking at this graph, it is now clear that the whole last 5 kilometres are uphill - albeit a gentle, almost imperceptible climb. It works out at about 10 metres per mile for the most part, which doesn't sound all that much, but you definitely notice it in your legs. Instead of being able to freewheel occasionally, you have to push the pedals the whole time, which burns your thighs until you get home and step off the bike.
One of my aims for this year is to be able to cycle home in under 30 minutes, or at the very least, cycle home without my legs feeling as though they are about to drop off.
As a result, I gripped the handlebars so tightly that I actually sprained the muscles in my little finger on my left hand, and I certainly wasn't worried about the time it took to get into work and back home again.
As I have got more confident though, my timings have crept into my consciousness. My time into work is not too bad - about 25 minutes, depending on whether I get caught by traffic lights or so on. My time going back is around the 35 minute mark, and I originally thought that I was just tired from the day (and having already done exercise in the morning).
However, I've found a pretty cool website which has brought my cycle home into greater clarity. Bike Route Toaster allows you to enter in the route that you take home. So far, so google-maps. But one of the cool things that this site does is create an elevation map, so you can see how steep various parts of the climb are.
I knew that certain parts of the route were hills: the last 500 metres contains a bit of a slog up Leigham Vale which was always unwelcome. But after looking at this graph, it is now clear that the whole last 5 kilometres are uphill - albeit a gentle, almost imperceptible climb. It works out at about 10 metres per mile for the most part, which doesn't sound all that much, but you definitely notice it in your legs. Instead of being able to freewheel occasionally, you have to push the pedals the whole time, which burns your thighs until you get home and step off the bike.
One of my aims for this year is to be able to cycle home in under 30 minutes, or at the very least, cycle home without my legs feeling as though they are about to drop off.
Friday 24 July 2009
Gym Stats for July
Just thought I'd pop up some of my gym stats, so in a couple of months I can see how far I am progressing (if at all). I've only really got into fitness and the gym in the last year or so, and I have been surprised at how much I actually enjoy it. I hated PE and Games at school: being a fat kid I was always picked last for team games, my prowess at jumping, skipping and throwing was mediocre, my hand-eye coordination was OK, but I could never get to where the ball was going to be, and my cross country running was more of a gentle amble. I tried hard, and didn't do the normal fat-kid thing of faking notes to get out of it (at least, not that often, anyway). So my natural inclination towards sports has been: enjoy watching them, but there is no way I'd do them.
Anyway, last year, I decided I wanted to change my ways: having lost a bit more weight through dieting, I had reached a plateau where I was no longer losing anything. So I decided that doing cardio was the answer. I started out with running at lunchtimes: I couldn't make it more than 600 metres without being out of breath. I persevered, and the more that I did, the further I could go, and the improving results urged me to keep on going. I've now run a 10K run, and have done several 5k runs, with the intention of improving my time for the 5K to below 25 minutes.
Also in that time, I've slowly got into doing weights as well...slowly building up the levels that I can do in order to be more toned. Enough of that shit, though. Bring on the stats:
Anyway, last year, I decided I wanted to change my ways: having lost a bit more weight through dieting, I had reached a plateau where I was no longer losing anything. So I decided that doing cardio was the answer. I started out with running at lunchtimes: I couldn't make it more than 600 metres without being out of breath. I persevered, and the more that I did, the further I could go, and the improving results urged me to keep on going. I've now run a 10K run, and have done several 5k runs, with the intention of improving my time for the 5K to below 25 minutes.
Also in that time, I've slowly got into doing weights as well...slowly building up the levels that I can do in order to be more toned. Enough of that shit, though. Bring on the stats:
- 5k run: official (time keeping done by radio control chip thing): 29.54
- 5k run: unofficial time (not in race): 27:48
- Bench press: dumbbells: 16k in each hand
- Bench incline: barbell: 32.5k
- Shoulder press: 30k
- Chest incline (machine): 45k
- Chest press (machine): 45k
- Bicep curls: 12k
- Triceps raise (above head): 16k
- Low row: 55k
- Pectoral: 35k
Thursday 23 July 2009
knitted star wars
I know that I seem to be posting links to the guardian website pretty much daily, but they do have some really quirky stuff on there most days. Today's favorite is the gallery of handicraft star wars toys which hits the "aww cute" and "wow, cool" buttons for me in equal measure.
All of the photo's are of creatures and characters from Star Wars made by people who may or may not have too much time on their hands. It's a pretty impressive collection of toys made from wool, fuzzy felt or crochet, but my personal favorites are the sock yoda and the giant Chewbacca (pictured left).
There is a natural, playful, dichotomy at play here, which is what I really like about this piece. Traditional handicrafts (which, despite the recent renaissance which I keep reading about, is something of a lost art in today's society) have been applied into creating something which looks to the future. Replacing hard metals and plastics with wool and wood creates a pleasing effect, as it confronts what you expect to find from Star Wars, and gently deconstructs those expectations. The future as represented by Star Wars is a place of mechanics and mass production, which is the exact opposite of what these hand-made toys represent.
There is also an unspoken critique of the modern toy manufacturers, which use the Star Wars brand as a driving force to increase sales. The "official" Star Wars toys are mass produced, all-talking, all-walkign gizmo's, made of plastic and electronics, and will possibly entertain a child for a number of years. The toys in this gallery may not talk back, but they have a sense of humour, a heart and soul about them which will enchant a person, not just entertain.
Monday 20 July 2009
Cloud-watching
I really enjoyed this 3 minute presentation on the guardian website about cloud watching. It's by Gavin Pretor-Pinney, who has just written The Cloud Collector's Handbook. He obviously has a lot of passion for the subject, but it's the pictures which stand out for me: they capture how impressive cloud formations can sometimes be, and as the man says, they are really a collection of memories, rather than a collection of clouds. Looking at the slideshow was very soothing. Perhaps I'll do some cloud-watching this afternoon.
the sounds of silence
I had some of my stuff stolen last week - the usual sneak-thief menu of wallet, watch and phone - basically things that can be picked up quickly and stashed in pockets without causing too much raising of eyebrows from other people.
One of the things that was taken was my ipod - which has meant that rather than the world going past with my own personal soundtrack, I have had to immerse myself in the sounds of the streets. It has taken some getting used to - rather than giving the streets of London a cinematic feel, and being able to choose from different styles of music in order to enhance my mood, I have heard whispered conversations between lovers, caught the beginnings of arguments, heard cars honking, cabbies cursing, drunken snoring and jabbered talking of teenagers out on the town.
It's been quite entertaining in some respects - either intentionally, in the case of a man trying his best to be the "group clown" on the tube late at night, or unintentional in the case of a girl trying to make sense of an advert. But it has been, on occasion, more than a little annoying - the braying arrogance of a guy talking about Charles Dickens was a particular low point. I'm looking forward to being able to shut it all out again.
One of the things that was taken was my ipod - which has meant that rather than the world going past with my own personal soundtrack, I have had to immerse myself in the sounds of the streets. It has taken some getting used to - rather than giving the streets of London a cinematic feel, and being able to choose from different styles of music in order to enhance my mood, I have heard whispered conversations between lovers, caught the beginnings of arguments, heard cars honking, cabbies cursing, drunken snoring and jabbered talking of teenagers out on the town.
It's been quite entertaining in some respects - either intentionally, in the case of a man trying his best to be the "group clown" on the tube late at night, or unintentional in the case of a girl trying to make sense of an advert. But it has been, on occasion, more than a little annoying - the braying arrogance of a guy talking about Charles Dickens was a particular low point. I'm looking forward to being able to shut it all out again.
Thursday 16 July 2009
little by little, piece by piece, my childhood is dismantled
It's constantly surprising how easily a piece of news can transport you back to your childhood days. I am not given to navel-gazing in general (this blog excepted), and do not, as a rule, look back on my younger days with rose-tinted spectacles. Nostalgia is for people who haven't got enough stuff to pre-occupy themselves with now - I subscribe to the philosophy that if you are constantly looking backwards, how can you hope to look forwards to the future.
However, the sad news that teletext is coming to an end really did pull me back to a time and a place almost 20 years ago: I can remember the new TV appearing in the corner of the living room, the shock of seeing this mighty unit suddenly replacing the 10inch portable that had previously sat there. Of being able to change the channel without having to argue with my sister who was going to get up from their chair, move forward 6 paces, and turn it over.
Most of all, though, I remember getting teletext, and the joy of being able to read news headlines, and sport results whenever I wanted. Looking for the football results was the first thing I did every Saturday afternoon - punching in 302 on the handset, waiting for the page to load as the numbers rotated around, praying that Arsenal had defeated their opponents that day (and being the early nineties and pre-Wenger, the answer was much less predictable).
I also remember much later, the joys of bamboozle on channel 4 (a multiple choice quiz), and the zine, a strange incarnation of what we would now call a bulletin board - but being decidedly old fashioned, you had to write in to teletext, who would decide whether to put your letter up or not.
All of this made me realise that we are extremely fortunate today, to be able to communicate with such ease, and to be able to share ideas, photo's and videos across the world in an instant. It is a far cry from blocky text on a black screen.
However, the sad news that teletext is coming to an end really did pull me back to a time and a place almost 20 years ago: I can remember the new TV appearing in the corner of the living room, the shock of seeing this mighty unit suddenly replacing the 10inch portable that had previously sat there. Of being able to change the channel without having to argue with my sister who was going to get up from their chair, move forward 6 paces, and turn it over.
Most of all, though, I remember getting teletext, and the joy of being able to read news headlines, and sport results whenever I wanted. Looking for the football results was the first thing I did every Saturday afternoon - punching in 302 on the handset, waiting for the page to load as the numbers rotated around, praying that Arsenal had defeated their opponents that day (and being the early nineties and pre-Wenger, the answer was much less predictable).
I also remember much later, the joys of bamboozle on channel 4 (a multiple choice quiz), and the zine, a strange incarnation of what we would now call a bulletin board - but being decidedly old fashioned, you had to write in to teletext, who would decide whether to put your letter up or not.
All of this made me realise that we are extremely fortunate today, to be able to communicate with such ease, and to be able to share ideas, photo's and videos across the world in an instant. It is a far cry from blocky text on a black screen.
Wednesday 15 July 2009
Adebayor to leave for Manchester City
It looks like Adebayor will be leaving Arsenal this summer, after he has passed a medical in Manchester.
I can't say that I will be too upset - he had one great season where he looked invincible, but he was very poor last season, and didn't look as though he was bothered about results. That was the real reason the fans turned on him - the fact he didn't track back, he didn't put himself into positions where he could collect a pass, and his general laziness all meant that he put himself in the frame for the fan's frustrations with the team as a whole.
The fact that he is going to Manchester City really does make a lie that he wanted to move to a better club, and shows him up for the money-grubbing twat we all thought he was - cheers for proving us right, Ade.
I can't say that I will be too upset - he had one great season where he looked invincible, but he was very poor last season, and didn't look as though he was bothered about results. That was the real reason the fans turned on him - the fact he didn't track back, he didn't put himself into positions where he could collect a pass, and his general laziness all meant that he put himself in the frame for the fan's frustrations with the team as a whole.
The fact that he is going to Manchester City really does make a lie that he wanted to move to a better club, and shows him up for the money-grubbing twat we all thought he was - cheers for proving us right, Ade.
Monday 13 July 2009
Tuesday 7 July 2009
sentient contact lenses
Saw this interesting article in the guardian today, which I thought was pretty cool. There are a new contact lens on the market which you put in during the night, instead of during the day.
While you sleep, they remodel your eye, so that when you take them out the next day, you can see perfectly. Read the article for a more scientific explanation, but I think that this is just the coolest thing ever- it's almost Star Trek-like technology. How did boffins work out that you could fix eyes temporarily, and then that they could do this by using contact lenses?
I really really wish that I had paid more attention in biology class now, rather than just terrorising the hamsters at the back of the classroom.
While you sleep, they remodel your eye, so that when you take them out the next day, you can see perfectly. Read the article for a more scientific explanation, but I think that this is just the coolest thing ever- it's almost Star Trek-like technology. How did boffins work out that you could fix eyes temporarily, and then that they could do this by using contact lenses?
I really really wish that I had paid more attention in biology class now, rather than just terrorising the hamsters at the back of the classroom.
Monday 6 July 2009
knowing you've picked a good t-shirt
Picking cool T-shirts can be a bit of lucky dip - what looks cool one week, can look dated and rubbish a couple of weeks later. Or you can get the "Osaka" effect, whereby you buy one t-shirt, and it looks bloody brilliant. Then 3 months later you off down the pub, whack the T on, and then you see another bloke wearing it. and another. and then another.
Anyway, this week, I definitely got a cool t-shirt - pulled it on to go out, and 5 people commented on how great it looked, and wanted to know where I got it from. So I am going to properly rinse the opportunity to wear it as much as possible. And no, I am not going to tell you where I got it from either.
Anyway, this week, I definitely got a cool t-shirt - pulled it on to go out, and 5 people commented on how great it looked, and wanted to know where I got it from. So I am going to properly rinse the opportunity to wear it as much as possible. And no, I am not going to tell you where I got it from either.
Friday 3 July 2009
Sonar 2009
I got back from Sonar 2009 last week: it's taken me until know to be able to get my thoughts about the festival into a coherent whole.
There are things that make this festival really great - the almost-guaranteed sunshine throughout being the obvious one, going back to your apartment to sleep in a clean bed, and have a warm shower the next morning being another - but I think what I really enjoy about Sonar is that it still has a genuine rebel spirit coursing through it's veins.
The sponsorship and endorsements are low-key (and actually pretty cool - the adidas-sponsored record bag being a favourite merchandise purchase of almost everyone out there), and it feels like a mega-party put on by a couple of people for a bunch of their mates. I know that this isn't ever going to be true, but it's cool that it still manages to have that vibe running throughout the festival.
Musically, the highlights for me were the Jeff Mills 80's hip hop set, which was phenomanal, as was Richie Hawtin's set on the Friday night. On Saturday night, top marks have to go to Orbital for playing everything you'd expect them to play, and for it to still be able to take your breath away and inspire you (and still, in some cases, surprise you). I was also pretty impressed by the Young Fathers who really rocked the crowd, and were perfect for dancing around in the sun with a mojito in your hand.
Lowlights were Deadmau5, although this might have been because I as on various missions to collect people we had mislaid throughout the night, and the weird Colombian DJ who seemed to be playing feedback for about an hour. He did wear an elephant mask though, to try and take your mind off of how dreadful he was. (Actually, both of these people wear masks to perform - I wonder if my general fear and distrust of "wacky" is subsconciously affecting how I rate the peformance).
There are things that make this festival really great - the almost-guaranteed sunshine throughout being the obvious one, going back to your apartment to sleep in a clean bed, and have a warm shower the next morning being another - but I think what I really enjoy about Sonar is that it still has a genuine rebel spirit coursing through it's veins.
The sponsorship and endorsements are low-key (and actually pretty cool - the adidas-sponsored record bag being a favourite merchandise purchase of almost everyone out there), and it feels like a mega-party put on by a couple of people for a bunch of their mates. I know that this isn't ever going to be true, but it's cool that it still manages to have that vibe running throughout the festival.
Musically, the highlights for me were the Jeff Mills 80's hip hop set, which was phenomanal, as was Richie Hawtin's set on the Friday night. On Saturday night, top marks have to go to Orbital for playing everything you'd expect them to play, and for it to still be able to take your breath away and inspire you (and still, in some cases, surprise you). I was also pretty impressed by the Young Fathers who really rocked the crowd, and were perfect for dancing around in the sun with a mojito in your hand.
Lowlights were Deadmau5, although this might have been because I as on various missions to collect people we had mislaid throughout the night, and the weird Colombian DJ who seemed to be playing feedback for about an hour. He did wear an elephant mask though, to try and take your mind off of how dreadful he was. (Actually, both of these people wear masks to perform - I wonder if my general fear and distrust of "wacky" is subsconciously affecting how I rate the peformance).
Bon Iver at Glastonbury 2009
Like every other middle-class reader of the Guardian, one of my favourite albums of last year was Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago", which is a collection of heart-stopping yearnings for a lost love.
Spent yesterday watching the performance at Glastonbury: http://www.bbc.co.uk/glastonbury/2009/artists/boniver/index.shtml#emp which I am happy to report is absolutely amazing - retaining the beauty and elegance of the album, while adding somethign extra. Magnificent.
On a lexicographical note, does anyone know how to pronounce Bon Iver? I have been pronouncing it as two seperate words Bon [pause] Ivor, as in Ivor the engine. Other people are pronouncing it as one word: bon-e-verr.
Spent yesterday watching the performance at Glastonbury: http://www.bbc.co.uk/glastonbury/2009/artists/boniver/index.shtml#emp which I am happy to report is absolutely amazing - retaining the beauty and elegance of the album, while adding somethign extra. Magnificent.
On a lexicographical note, does anyone know how to pronounce Bon Iver? I have been pronouncing it as two seperate words Bon [pause] Ivor, as in Ivor the engine. Other people are pronouncing it as one word: bon-e-verr.
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