Contactable

It was the afternoon lull that was responsible. The period of time when after you have eaten lunch but are still forced to work, so as a protest your body begins to shut it self down. I began to yawn and the next thing I know I’m rubbing my eyes quite hard and not paying much notice to my blurry vision as a consequence.

I only noticed what had happened after I got home from work and decided to take out my contacts. I looked in the mirror and proceeded with the ritual of dabbing my eyeball with my finger and pinching the watery lens whilst trying not to pinch my actual eyeball (something I have done many times). The left one came out with one grab but when I tried to tug at the right eye it had disappeared. At first I thought it must have fallen out at some point during the day and tried to remember if there was an occasion where this might have happened. And so I recalled the lull earlier on where I’d found my head gradually trying to meet my chest. I concluded that I must have rubbed it away from my eye ball. But where was it? Was it in the bin or lying on the floor getting trampled on by the cleaner? Nope, I had managed to dislodge the contact lens from my eye only for it to find a new home up my eye lid. I did not realise straight away having now settled down to watch some television. It was after a few minutes I kept tapping my eyelid completely ignorant that there was a foreign entity harbouring in the upper corner. Eventually the constant tapping brought me back in front of the mirror. This time I carefully pressed on my eyelid and felt the lens hunched near the top leaving me unsure on what to do. My first attempt was to try and rub it out. But this only made my eye go red and my skin burn slightly from the constant friction. It was then I realised that I needed to go up there so with my right hand I pinched my eyelid and pulled it away exposing the inners of the dark roof. I started to gag at the sight of the back of my eyeball and for a brief moment I thought it might pop out just like the girl’s did in Hostel. Having got past the freakiness and the fascination of the amount of capillaries my eyeball has around the back I began my quest for the lost lens. No matter how much I tilted my head or twisted my body I could not get sight of the thing. It was there festering while my left eye tried hard to catch sight of it, but to no avail. The only method left was to try and jam a finger up there in the hope that brute force would get the lens back. I braced myself, washed my hands again and prepared my left little finger to be the violator. As I was about to thrust it up there when I had a brainwave. If I was to fall asleep then my eye would roll backwards and there was a small chance the lens would slip back into its place. Relieved that there was another way to remove the contact without jamming one of my digits up there I headed to bed.

The next morning began badly. The lens had not moved and was still hiding somewhere in my eyelid. Annoyed that I could not go to the optometrists until after work I headed off. Ten minutes had no passed before people were asking why I was blinking so incessantly so I divulged my situation. One of my colleagues then volunteered to get it out. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should let someone prod my eyeball but I really needed the lens out of there. So I titled my head back and sure enough within a few seconds I was being shown a shrivelled little lump that had caused me so much distress.

In other news, I know it’s time to get my haircut when I start to sprout wings on the side of my head.

Fairground

I love the fair and once again it has returned, perched on the heath of Campbell Park. The love affair started when I won a gold fish after throwing three consecutive baskets when I was twelve. The man who ran the stall scowled as he shoved the clear plastic bag full of water and a little orange fish into my hand. I took it with great pleasure and a sensation of satisfaction. Although subsequently the little fish died only four days later the enthusiastic feeling did not wane. Even when my friend’s wallet slipped out of his back pocket on the Helter Skelter and when we asked to check the seat the spotty teenage guy said we couldn’t whilst openly grinning at us. And then we tried to look anyway only to be confronted by the spotty teenager’s entourage of five burly skinheads looking for trouble, my excitement of the fair continued. Why? Well, because I love all the little games scattered amongst those rather thrilling yet shabby looking rides.

I really dig going up to one of those stalls where you have to toss ringlets over prizes they cannot actually fit around. My technique is to aim for something the ringlet must fit over but I still get thwarted. Once I aimed for a bottle of Grant’s Vodka and the ringlet went over the bottle but half of the ring still hung from the bottle top. Elated at the thought of winning, the owner shook his head and explained ‘his’ rules required the ringlet to completely go over the item and touch the ground. There was no point arguing so I just walked off. Another game I enjoy is firing the pellet gun at stack of cans. The objective is to knock over all the cans with eight pellets. Even though I have played this for years I still cannot win. My best is leaving only two cans left, but they are so hard to knock over, you literally have to hit the can in the bottom left or right corner to make it topple. Otherwise it just wobbles. And to add to its difficulty all you need to do is hover over the trigger and the pellet fires. There has been many a time I considered firing at the stall owner but he always seems to be standing well away from the gun’s reach for some reason.

As for rides, I’m not too keen on the absolute terrifying ones like Gravity, where there’s nothing stopping you from falling 40ft but gravity. Those machines just look too weathered for me to risk and take the plunge. I do not fancy being on the front cover of the local paper with a photo of me splattered on the ground and some quote from a local campaigner saying ‘there will be a full investigation’. The image is too clear in my mind to make me think it is plausible. The ride I really like is the ghost train, if the owner does it correctly. I truly brick it going through a route in a tatty little cart whilst various noises explode around and random textures rub against my face. One time there was even a ‘part-time’ actor who stayed in a coffin until the cart gradually came to a halt and he flew out shouting ‘rahhh’ while I just had a heart attack and screamed back. So impressed I was with that particular ride that I procured a water pistol and went back on the ride and drenched him the next time he sprung out.

Ahhhh, I do enjoy the fairground.



I am really pleased that Barack is now president-elect. I considered writing a piece but then thought the moment is best typified by this.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=tM1XrVVVBAk

November 2010 – A McCain Alternative?

As you probably all have read or seen the UK will be supporting the US in deploying a military presence in Jordan after the US accused Iran of using aggressive force in the region. There has been no official report from the UN whether this is true but Vice President Palin considered there to be a ‘clear and evident threat’ not just in the Middle East but also the world. So far the UN has stated that guerrillas from both countries have exchanged fire over the border but nothing more. Prime Minister Cameron believes that it is imperative to stand shoulder to shoulder with the US over a matter of national security and has pledged to send 4,000 troops to the region to support the 20,000 US forces currently amassing. Although no other member country is willing to pledge any troops until the UN has assessed the situation and given a statement the US have refused to wait for the UN, as many believe will consider the conflict between separatist groups, and have declared that any enemy combatant state will suffer attacking an ally of the free world. Although President McCain does not wish to involve nuclear weapons he has refused to rule out the possibility of using them. Many people in the UK are hoping that David Cameron is able to influence the US administration into not being so forceful with Iran who have made it known they will retaliate with any means available to them should there be a US led conflict in their country.

November 2010 – An Obama Alternative?

Tensions increased in the Middle East as fighting between Jordan and Iran intensified. President Obama has personally flown to the region to help resolve the problem by controversially asking President Ahmadinejad for a face to face meeting to see if a peaceful solution can be found. Although considered an enemy state it is an unprecedented move by the president who although has not ruled out sending troops to the area will wait for the UN to finish their investigations of the region before making a decision. Prime Minister Milliband advocated the bold move, seen by many nations as foolish, to be a great opportunity to bring stability to the area. Although declaring the UK to be a staunch ally of the US it would only contribute troops to the Middle East subject to the UN endorsing such a move. The UK is still sore over the capture of British sailors in March 2007 by Iran but there is a general consensus among the public that based on previous experience it was best to wait for the UN to finish conducting their investigation. The offer is another controversial move by the maverick president who last year held talks with Kim Jung Il over establishing better relationships between the east and west. It is being noted that since coming into power two years ago the current US president is willing to talk to leaders who were once deemed part of the ‘axis of evil’ as coined by the former administration. Although not always popular few can disagree that no other president, since Bill Clinton, has the interpersonal skills to reach out to nations who were deemed nothing more than enemies of the state. If the talks go ahead between the US and Iran it is hoped that the fighting will be stopped in the meantime.

As you probably have guessed I support Obama for president. However, I did try to write this in a non partisan way based on the statements made by both candidates here http://www.ontheissues.org/John_McCain.htm and here http://www.ontheissues.org/Barack_Obama.htm. Ok, McCain supporters can say that I have written a very extreme aggressive response from their leader’s camp. But there is not much for me to work with. This scenario is very much based on how the last current Republican administration dealt with the Iraq war. Remember the weapons inspection led by Has Blix for the UN and how they did not wait and disagreed with the findings? Only to be proved wrong. John McCain is a left wing republican but it is hard not to think that the right wing republican ideology will just diminish because he is in charge. Sarah Palin his right hand man is extremely right wing so I can imagine there being many more within the party in powerful influential roles. As for Obama, he is a bit of a flash in pan and has unparalleled oratory skills amongst the American political arena. He is willing to talk to people who are considered the West’s enemies and from a European point of view that is good. The world needs leaders that don’t get hyped up with militaristic buzzwords like ‘enemy combatant’ and actually is willing to meet a different culture, engage with them and maybe even resolve the problem without parking their tanks in the ‘enemies’ back yard. For that and more reasons (my hands getting tired and I can’t write anymore) Barack has my vote. Should he get in I will keep a close eye on whether Guantanamo Bay detention camp will get shut down.

In other news, I heard The Bewlay Brothers by David Bowie for the first time the other night. That song blew me away.

A Fallen Brand

It was inevitable that Russell Brand would quit his radio show on BBC 2 today after being suspended. The apology seemed sincere only smirking at the end when he spoke of Jonathan Ross but alas there is no getting around it, his show was pretty darn good and those comments aside and the David Baddiel show, it will be missed by me. Profusely.

I first listened to those comments on my ipod after downloading the show on Sunday evening. When I heard Brand suggesting and talking in undertones about sleeping with the girl, I thought it was pretty risky but he always seems to do that. Then I hear Ross blurt out ‘he fucked your grand daughter’. I actually said ‘shit’ out loud upon hearing those words and felt a little bit embarrassed. It was over the line, and those who think it is not should try empathising in both the grandfather’s and the granddaughter’s view. If I become a grandfather the last thing I would want to hear is a man full of hi jinx retelling the tale of porking one of my progeny. What made me cringe slightly more was when they started visualising the scenario such as it was likely he’d be staring at a photograph of his granddaughter aged four as he heard his answer machine message. They pretty much fucked up big time but it was not said in a baleful manner just two guys subconsciously egging each other on.

What came next was unexpected. I presumed there would be some complaints and I thought that Brand would apologise immediately. I was lying in bed on Sunday evening trying to sleep when Steven Nolan on Radio 5Live was debating what Brand and Ross said was acceptable. It was odd that something that happened a week ago had made it onto the agenda of a radio talk show. Yet the majority of callers lambasted Brand and Ross calling for them to be sacked and stripped of their high wages. There was even some contempt in their voices when they spoke of the amount of money each one of them earns. Still I thought nothing of it. But the next morning it had reached the newspapers, the front pages even. Supplanting the current credit crunch or the US elections for something that happened on October 18th, it seemed odd. I read the news article on the BBC website that there had been a complaint made by the grandfather. I could understand why he made it. What did start to gyrate with me was the ever growing band of people complaining to the BBC. The last count was 20,000. These people did not listen to the show and hear what was said. Otherwise there would have been more than the 2 complaints made (for swearing) when the show was broadcasted. They could not have downloaded the podcast because that show had already been replaced and you cannot download old ones. My interpretation of why so many complaints were made was that many people read the papers and decided to voice their anger. Fair enough if these people did hear show and the way it was delivered with intonation and enunciation of the words used. But they did not. However, because so many of them complained it raised the stories profile and bumped it onto the agenda of the national news on television.

Only after the Prime Minister voiced his opinion did the BBC suspend Ross and Brand. Maybe it is because the BBC are still wounded over the court case they lost to the Labour government regarding the Andrew Gilligan allegations, that they felt action was required. And now Brand has quit. But I can not help but feel that it is the BBC that will lose out. It is a unique institution unrivalled through out the rest of the earth. It covers news meticulously, produces programmes on both radio and television which are superb but they have handled this issue badly. If Brand and Ross were going to be dealt with why not do it when the grandfather first complained. He and his granddaughter are the ones directly involved with the actions so they should have been suspended then. Not when 20,000 odd and the Prime Minister get involved. That only suggests that they are reacting to their fury and concern and not of the feelings of those who it does really matter. And this makes the suspension seem a façade and not genuine. Anyhow, I surmise with the belief that had Matt Morgan been there none of this would have happened. Where the hell is?


In other news, it snowed last night.

Bling Bling

I’ve come to realise that gold jewellery looks crap on me. There is no way getting around it. Gold does not suit my skin tone and when I don a chain or ring I look nothing more than a narcotics pusher trying to peddle aspirin in the guise of amphetamine. Still at least I know gold does not suit me so keep away from purchasing those huge link chains that look thick enough to be a bike lock. I can only imagine what I would look like walking down the street wearing Elizabeth Dukes’ latest range chatting people whilst parts of me twinkles against the light, what a fool I would look. In fact it is probably a good thing that I am not that bothered with male jewellery in general. There are no hours wasted perusing the Argos catalogue for annulates with ‘ICE’ etched on them with fake diamonds that resemble Rice Crispies. Instead I am happy with what I wear when the mood takes me. I own a wooden dolphin string necklace that cost £1.79 from some shop which I tend to wear at least once a week. It just lays there next to my television, there is no need to shine it and if it falls on the floor I do not need to get all flustered in case it has been scratched. In fact my dolphin is scratched but I consider it an endearing feature. No one can really see the dolphin as it’s usually tucked underneath my t-shirt/shirt. Still the bootlace is visible as a sign that although there’s a plethora of chains out there I still like to wrap a bootlace around my neck as I strut down the street. It also possesses symbolic properties to me too. Having to dress smart to work is hard for me, although I am getting used to it. Sometimes I feel fake and look like Little Lord Fontleroy in trousers and a shirt. I really wished I did not have to wear these clothes but I am still a participant in ‘the game’. It’s funny as I never really wanted to be in ‘the game’ I just sort of fell into the race and next thing I know I’m scampering along feeling unable to stop. So the little dolphin is a reminder that somewhere inside of me is the ‘true me’. The person who could spend hours listening to digital radio or BBC’s Listen Again whilst slurping on some wine, whisky or rum and still consider it productive a productive day if I hear a song that makes me think differently. But then I have to ask myself, the longer I do what I do then surely it defines who I am more than what I want to do? Ah ha, that is true and so I am slightly anxious at the truth that perhaps I secretly enjoy being in ‘the game’ while tricking myself otherwise. Luckily the little dolphin is still there to let me know I haven’t gone just yet.

In other news, I went to Edinburgh for work the other week. Being surrounded by historic buildings, castles, culture that is century’s years old, brick work that can make an architect cream his pants, this was the only photo I took of the journey and it wasn't even in Edinburgh but Luton airport.



It’s an amazing city but not once did it dawn on me to take photos of its undoubted beauty. No, instead it was when we landed and on the way to the car that I spot an abandoned wheelchair and my mind starts to think ‘quick take a picture’.

Tuneful

I was sitting in the canteen the other day, sipping on my potato and leek soup and drifting in and out of conversation with a group of people when I begin to splutter. A piece of leek travels down the oral express but becomes lodged in my throat. The reason was a question, “What’s your favourite song of all time?” It has been many moons since I last heard that being asked. I think the last time was when I was in school, playing that game with the paper pyramid type thing with numbers written on the top and your destiny written underneath a flap. I am not sure of the exact reasons why I choked, was it because it sounded so immature? Or was it the absurdity? Upon reflection it is a question of the greatest grandeur not really absurd but a loaded one that needs to be thought about deeply. The person who asked it gave their own answer before sound could come from my mouth, “Mine is from the iPod advert.” "Shit you haven’t really thought about it.” I thought. It quite possible is the greatest song ever heard but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with good advertising whereas I could not find an answer I was comfortable with, I found it really hard but it was something I needed to mull over (hence this entry). Firstly the last answer I gave was along the lines of Paula Abdul’s Opposites Attract. So cultured and aware of music I was back then but at that time I could think of nothing better, it genuinely was my favourite song. However, if the animated cat had not featured in the music video my mind would have changed in an instant. That cat was pretty funkin’ cool.

My early steps into more thought provoking music occurred when I heard Fools Gold one cold winter. A friend’s older brother had it on vinyl and we listened to it in his room before he got home from work. Sneaking out just as he turned the key in the door. It was an unusual beat and a lot different to the Now compilations I had been spending my hard earn pocket money on. The opinion I had on music changed upon hearing that song, it was like a letter to my soul had been written by The Stone Roses letting me know that there is a hell of a lot of music out there. It was a good few years later when I felt that unusual feeling once more, this time it almost had me in shock. I was ill in bed one evening listening to the radio when I heard Wondewall by Oasis. It was another unusual feeling that plucked away at my emotions. I just couldn’t believe such a gruff arrogant band could produce something so brutally magnificent. The words are so vague that you could just form and apply them to your own story in life and it worked so beautifully. When the song ended on the radio and Steve Lamaq announced who sung it I remember shaking my head in astonishment. Over the years, my mind has gotten used to the rhythm beats and lyrics that the same feelings has eroded, it doesn’t seem to be able to make me stop for a moment anymore. Certainly not like when I first heard it on the radio all those years ago. Although the Cat Power version almost did take me back. From then, I ditched trying to get myself into clubs on Friday nights as Happy Wednesdays at the Winter Gardens brought me the greatest joy, jiving down to some Kula Shaker and Ash amongst others.

It was strange but my love for indie died one night. Probably after Be Here Now was released as it was so shit. I mean Britpop was rife at the time but my tastes began to change, I started to get into electronic dance type music. I’d always been a fan of Drum ‘n Bass but The Prodigy really asked questions of me as to why I hadn’t listened to more dance music. And so I did. And I realised that Prodigy stuff really wasn’t my type of thing, it was a bit too slow. It was trance music I had been waiting for which I discovered soon after. After a Saturday night at Flamingos we went back to someone’s house and carried on drinking when I heard this tweeting, beeping song called Ayla by Ayla. I think they’re German but the build up of the song really tapped into my constant attempt to heighten feelings within myself, like the way I drink coffee every day to keep awake but secretly experiment how much I can drink before I start shaking. From Ayla, the trance scene erupted before my eyes. Before I could say Tiesto I was buying Mixmag magazine and giving myself premature ear damage by listening to euphoric trance that kind of made me think, everything in the world is great. The pinnacle of this musical chapter was when I heard Delirium’s Silence (Teisto’s In Search of the Sunrise Mix version of course). It’s over 7 minutes long but when I hear it, even now, it evokes both wonderful memories and that same feeling that everything in the planet is alright.

Alas that episode came to a close when I picked up Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness for £5 in HMV one day. I felt like Judas having absconded to trance music whilst all this time there was still some great guitar music being written. 1979 blew me away as does Stumbleine. It completely made me obsessed in finding out what I’d been missing the last couple of years whilst I was listening to what Paul Oakenfold dished out.

And so after finishing off my soup I trudged off back to work but spent the rest of the afternoon remembering all the songs that I considered great. I didn’t bother to answer the question asked as to me those songs I’ve mentioned in this blog (although I’m sure I’ve missed loads out) are part of my amblings through life, how I felt, what was popular and what made me stand still until it was finished, like I used to do in Virgin and HMV. But I guess, if I was really pushed into a corner, forced to answer the question that was asked in the cafeteria then it would probably have to be this one.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=HD7g9Ds_SE4