February Fail

A broken boiler (just in time for the coldest few days I think we've had this winter) and an ear infection have conspired to welcome me to this, the shortest month. I feel the need to say cunting fucknuts. Cunting fucknuts. There, that's better.

A slight return

My first ten past eight post, and January is almost over (I can't claim credit for calling 2010 ten past eight, I swiped it from one of Bill Bailey's Tweets).

New Year's Eve was comparatively restrained in terms of sheer volume of alcohol consumed, but we still got very merry and enjoyed the culinary delights of some good friends, who routinely put us to shame when it comes to hosting these sort of events, so much so that their house has become the de facto venue for any kind of indoors celebration.

The year started brilliantly I thought - in place of the usual drab, grey, wet and bitterly cold punch in the face that January weather normally delivers we had beautiful snow covered streets and gorgeous low winter sun. Due to the inevitable post-Christmas essay crunch, I didn't have much call to leave the house and enjoy it, but I did lean out of the window a few times with my camera.



I might not have done much tramping about in the snow in January but my lunatic younger brother did convince me join him for a thrash round Sutton Park on our bikes a few times just before New Year. Needless to say we got utterly drenched and caked in mud, and very nearly died of hypothermia. Normally when you get soaked on a ride the heat you produce from cycling dries you off in no time but it was so cold on these occasions that our water-logged trainers actually seemed to be freezing as we rode. Painful, but certainly invigorating!

Anyway, so January was looking good; I went back to Karate (and was even joined by my Dad - a cause for minor celebration at the club since we almost never make it on the same days), I finished my essay with a whole evening to spare before the deadline (something which is practically unheard of), and the snow and sun were staving off the effects of S.A.D... it couldn't last, surely?

No. Just in time for going back to university I came down with the most awful cold / flu bastard thing I've had for some time. Indeed I have had it for some time now - it's entered its third week and has kept me away from Karate, made it very difficult to concentrate at uni, and, combined with the return of the more traditional miserable January weather, made me very S.A.D.

Still, I had my results for last semester this week and they were most encouraging. Next week I will return to Karate, and if we get just a little sun, all will be well.

Wedding

The wedding was fairy tale. Snow on the ground, a beautiful old school building and haunting viola music. The speeches were the best I've experienced at a wedding. Ten out of ten.
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Fuck you

Despite being slightly embarrassed at being too late with my banner waving today, I feel the need for a celebratory post.

My first thought was that this is an absolutely incredible demonstration of the power of social networking. Unsatisfied with the usual pap on offer and fed up with Cowell's stranglehold on festive music, the wonderful randomness of the internet marshaled an army of music lovers and took the number one spot in the name of rock. A seventeen year old rap metal track came out of the left field and blew away the Cowell's Christmas cheer. Amazing! X-Factor Christmas no. 1s were close to becoming a depressing institution; what other edifices can the power of Twitter and Facebook bring down?

It was, though, an armchair revolution. It took me about thirty seconds to navigate Amazon and download the track. Would the same have happened if people had been called upon to leave the warmth of their homes and actually purchase the single from stores? Not only that but it was a consumer campaign. It didn't stimulate a change in behavior, merely a change in product. We're all driven to consume, and if we can do so in the belief that our object of desire is somehow making a difference, so much the better. It's similar to buying that sleek new low power consumption laptop, shiny new Toyota Prius with dolphin friendly mpg, toilet paper made from 50% recycled materials... none of which are anywhere near as eco friendly as repairing and continuing to use your old laptop, catching the bus, washing instead of wiping(Yuck! The Thais do it though).

What's my point then? I'm not sure. The Rage thing was lots of fun and I hope it becomes a regular event. If it proves anything, though, it is that the internet has the power to direct consumerism - not halt it. The Copenhagen talks failed because they took the same approach; rather than asking 'how can we convince people they don't need iPods?' they set out to ensure that slightly greener iPods are available as their sales increase exponentially through access to developing world markets.

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The chart week

it seems runs from Sunday to Saturday so my download, blogs, tweets and texts today will have had no bearing on the result whatsoever. Still, RATM seem to have done OK without me... fingers crossed!

More North

Back to Bolton this eve for a wedding. Two nights in a cheap hotel is going to feel like heaven simply because (I really do hope) it will mean a working shower. The wedding is not until midday tomorrow so I think I can fit in at least three showers before then, and possibly another three after the ceremony before we head home on Tuesday. I will be shiny, clean and red all over.

And then Christmas is upon us! I have one free shopping day left before the big day, and it just so happens to be Christmas Eve - how do I always end up leaving it until the last minute? Hope everybody is looking forward to receiving whatever Sainsbury's have left on their shelves come Thursday afternoon: "Oh! Some bread. Some out of date sliced bread that's been a bit squashed. You really, really shouldn't have." What I really want for Christmas this year is for Rage Against the Machine to beat X-Factor to the number 1 spot. I do hope my readership (all two and a half of you!) are supporting the campaign to ruin Simon Cowell's Christmas. Go on, it's only 29p to download 'Killing in the Name' on Amazon.

I'm currently doing a spot of this thing called 'reading for pleasure'... Kate Mosse's Sepulchre is just a little bit trashy, but it's such a pleasure to just to let myself get carried away by a story without having to scheme it into an essay as I read. Overshadowing this extra curricular fun are the twelve - yes twelve - Shakespeare plays I have to read for January.

Up North

To continue being backward in coming forward I'm compelled to record our forays into the North of England and beyond earlier this year. We were aided in our first excursion into that cold, bleak landscape by our dear friends in Bolton - hardy souls who have chosen to depart sunny Birmingham in exchange for the frozen wastes beyond Lichfield. As it turned out we were received with considerable hospitality and wanted for none of the conveniences to which we are accustomed, added to which the excellent company and hearty fodder made for a most enjoyable trip. Our friends are hoping to make their new home even more welcoming by asserting themselves upon the local flora: 'no tree shall stand above a man's height' are the words bringing order to the wilderness about Bolton. I wish him well with his work; our only excursion into the wilds of that country soon ended as we were struck by the sheer impenetrability of its prehistoric forests, wondrous to behold though they were.

Emboldened by our recent successes, and tempted by reported sightings of that rarest of pop creatures: the Pixies; we took the not inconsiderable risk of venturing much deeper North, beyond even Hadrian's Wall, at the end of October - perilously close to winter. Once more we were to be amazed by the level of society we there encountered; Glasgow is a beautiful city, full of glorious Victorian and Edwardian architecture, a thriving music and comedy scene and, contrary to reputation, some of the friendliest and most welcoming people one could hope to find away from home. We were not disappointed in catching a glimpse of those elusive Pixies either.