Moving onto the year ahead I'm going on holiday. It is going to be massive. I'm pretty sure on where I'm going and what I'm doing but until I do I'm not going to leave a trial of bread crumbs, I'm just going to leave you in the dark and then hit you with it. It's going to be sooooo ace. I'll have something to write about again. Sweet.
At work today one of my machines caught fire. Not a big one, more a smoulder than a fire, but still. . .
All my training came into its own, years of lectures and self preservation techniques kicked straight into action as to stop the fire alarm going off, I poured cold coffee onto a large electrical machine.
If there is one thing I need a the moment. . . . it's that holiday!
29 December 2004
18 December 2004
Where's a good protest when you want one.
Today at work we were hoping for Animal Rights Protestors to come to the shop and start harking on about how terrible it is that a couple of animal had to die for the well being of the human race. Me and the rest of the staff were soooo up for a big protest. Something to give the day a bit of flavour. And yet, it would seem apathy won yet again and nobody turned up. Booo.
So I had to spend a normal day at work with no crowd of crazy tree huggers banging drums and trying to be political to cheer me up.
It's weird, being quite liberal myself I thought I would be able to sympathise with animal rights people, but I just can't. When they go on (and on) about how terrible it is that we test drugs on rats I just think, "well hey dude, I test them too so quit bitchin'", then when they say that we shouldn't use animals for science I think, "well hey dude, my bro would be dead if we didn't so quit bitchin'", then they use the good old 'Meat is Murder' line I think, "well hey dude, meat is dinner, so why don't you bite me instead and quit bitchin'".
Other stores got protestors, we got nothing. . . . denied.
So I had to spend a normal day at work with no crowd of crazy tree huggers banging drums and trying to be political to cheer me up.
It's weird, being quite liberal myself I thought I would be able to sympathise with animal rights people, but I just can't. When they go on (and on) about how terrible it is that we test drugs on rats I just think, "well hey dude, I test them too so quit bitchin'", then when they say that we shouldn't use animals for science I think, "well hey dude, my bro would be dead if we didn't so quit bitchin'", then they use the good old 'Meat is Murder' line I think, "well hey dude, meat is dinner, so why don't you bite me instead and quit bitchin'".
Other stores got protestors, we got nothing. . . . denied.
11 December 2004
*cough* *cough*
For the majority of the day I have to wear a dust mask while I'm in my workshop. I only really need it for a couple of the machines but it's such a pain putting my protective stuff on and off all freaking day that I tend to keep my mask on. I've started taping a big "X" on the front of it to give it a bit of character but I felt more was needed.
Then today I had a brainwave. From this day onward, my dust mask is going to be adorned with the phrase "I have SARS."
Brilliant.
Then today I had a brainwave. From this day onward, my dust mask is going to be adorned with the phrase "I have SARS."
Brilliant.
10 December 2004
The inner monologue of todays crash.
Faster Wardy, must go faster. Must show that even though I'm on someone else's bike I've still got it. That's it, pedal harder, pick up speed.
Ohhh, nicely done. Drop it a gear, pedal hard down the hill. Ohhh, yeah. Holy moly I've got a lot of speed up. Ok, ok, calm down, spot your line around the corner. Right then, aim for the apex. Crap! There's a bench in the way. Ok, cool down hot shot, just go a little wide. Damn, picked up too much speed, get on the brakes now Wardy, lets take some of the oomph out of this flying machine.
Hmmm, not slowing down a lot. Pull the levers harder, no no, that's not working. Man I wish I was on my bike, where are disk brakes when you need them. Ok, think faster, pick your line, try and lose more speed.
Still not slowing down, hmmm, the brake levers wont pull and tighter. Well well, this should be interesting. Right then Wardy, time to get serious. You're going way too fast to get around this corner, evasive manoeuvres required.
Start evasive manouvers. . . now - crap, too late!
Lean, lean damn you, swivel your hips in the direction you want to go, careful with the brakes. Mind the bench, lean further, get around this damn corne - WHOA - ok calm down. You bailed. You're on your side. Balls, this is going to burn sooooo bad. Still sliding, watch where you're going, don't hit anything. Look, look, wet soggy grass, I'm sliding straight onto wet soggy gra - Airborne, I'm in the air. Ok, I'm spinning around in the ai - Aarrgggh, just landed. Where am I, oh yeah, sliding I'm just - Airborne, whoa I'm spinning again. Does my shin hurt? Hope I don't injure myself when I - Aarrgggh that's the floor, oohhhhh that's gonna sting in the morning. Still moving, still sliding fast. I'm on my back, my legs are tangled in the bike, lets hope I don't flip again. Man I'm sliding a long way. Hey, check it out. There's Fran and Ezra coming down the path. Frans shouting something, whats that. . oh, got it. Am I ok? Woo Hoo, I'm fine dude. Still sliding though.
Ok, I've stopped sliding. I'm in one piece. Check your legs Wardy, make sure nothings broken, check out that shin. Ok ok, I'm good. Just bruised. Bad Ass, That was cool. Where are the guys? I wish we had that on camera.
Ahhhh Damnit, I've busted my headset again!!!!
Ohhh, nicely done. Drop it a gear, pedal hard down the hill. Ohhh, yeah. Holy moly I've got a lot of speed up. Ok, ok, calm down, spot your line around the corner. Right then, aim for the apex. Crap! There's a bench in the way. Ok, cool down hot shot, just go a little wide. Damn, picked up too much speed, get on the brakes now Wardy, lets take some of the oomph out of this flying machine.
Hmmm, not slowing down a lot. Pull the levers harder, no no, that's not working. Man I wish I was on my bike, where are disk brakes when you need them. Ok, think faster, pick your line, try and lose more speed.
Still not slowing down, hmmm, the brake levers wont pull and tighter. Well well, this should be interesting. Right then Wardy, time to get serious. You're going way too fast to get around this corner, evasive manoeuvres required.
Start evasive manouvers. . . now - crap, too late!
Lean, lean damn you, swivel your hips in the direction you want to go, careful with the brakes. Mind the bench, lean further, get around this damn corne - WHOA - ok calm down. You bailed. You're on your side. Balls, this is going to burn sooooo bad. Still sliding, watch where you're going, don't hit anything. Look, look, wet soggy grass, I'm sliding straight onto wet soggy gra - Airborne, I'm in the air. Ok, I'm spinning around in the ai - Aarrgggh, just landed. Where am I, oh yeah, sliding I'm just - Airborne, whoa I'm spinning again. Does my shin hurt? Hope I don't injure myself when I - Aarrgggh that's the floor, oohhhhh that's gonna sting in the morning. Still moving, still sliding fast. I'm on my back, my legs are tangled in the bike, lets hope I don't flip again. Man I'm sliding a long way. Hey, check it out. There's Fran and Ezra coming down the path. Frans shouting something, whats that. . oh, got it. Am I ok? Woo Hoo, I'm fine dude. Still sliding though.
Ok, I've stopped sliding. I'm in one piece. Check your legs Wardy, make sure nothings broken, check out that shin. Ok ok, I'm good. Just bruised. Bad Ass, That was cool. Where are the guys? I wish we had that on camera.
Ahhhh Damnit, I've busted my headset again!!!!
06 December 2004
Money Matters.
This week has been the kind of week that makes me despise not being unfathomably rich. The past week has just been a week of my life gone by with nothing to show for it. Yes I've earnt some money. Woo pee do. I have nothing to remember this week by. There was an absence of noticeable events. My job is not varied enough for any one week to be different enough from the rest to earn a place in memory. I'm just a week older.
Sometimes I think this lottery thing is a bit of a fix. I mean, I've been playing for ages now and I still have to get up in a morning and lose the best part of my day doing something I'd rather not be. And the kicker is, my job is pretty cool. I get to work with really nice people, listening to whatever music I want, and there's a really laid back atmosphere. Can you imagine what I'd be like with a crummy job, oh boy!
Yet still, I want to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. To have the money to get out there and do stuff instead of just dreaming about it.
Still, I've got a holiday coming up in the next year so this is just all fuel to the fire to make sure I get the best out of it.
If anyone of you know of something in the world that I simply must do before I die then go the Contact page and let me know. If I end up doing it I shall personally send you a post card from wherever in the world I may be. Now that my friend, is an offer!
Sometimes I think this lottery thing is a bit of a fix. I mean, I've been playing for ages now and I still have to get up in a morning and lose the best part of my day doing something I'd rather not be. And the kicker is, my job is pretty cool. I get to work with really nice people, listening to whatever music I want, and there's a really laid back atmosphere. Can you imagine what I'd be like with a crummy job, oh boy!
Yet still, I want to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. To have the money to get out there and do stuff instead of just dreaming about it.
Still, I've got a holiday coming up in the next year so this is just all fuel to the fire to make sure I get the best out of it.
If anyone of you know of something in the world that I simply must do before I die then go the Contact page and let me know. If I end up doing it I shall personally send you a post card from wherever in the world I may be. Now that my friend, is an offer!
Money Matters.
This week has been the kind of week that makes me despise not being unfathomably rich. The past week has just been a week of my life gone by with nothing to show for it. Yes I've earnt some money. Woo pee do. I have nothing to remember this week by. There was an absence of noticeable events. My job is not varied enough for any one week to be different enough from the rest to earn a place in memory. I'm just a week older.
Sometimes I think this lottery thing is a bit of a fix. I mean, I've been playing for ages now and I still have to get up in a morning and lose the best part of my day doing something I'd rather not be. And the kicker is, my job is pretty cool. I get to work with really nice people, listening to whatever music I want, and there's a really laid back atmosphere. Can you imagine what I'd be like with a crummy job, oh boy!
Yet still, I want to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. To have the money to get out there and do stuff instead of just dreaming about it.
Still, I've got a holiday coming up in the next year so this is just all fuel to the fire to make sure I get the best out of it.
If anyone of you know of something in the world that I simply must do before I die then go the Contact page and let me know. If I end up doing it I shall personally send you a post card from wherever in the world I may be. Now that my friend, is an offer!
Sometimes I think this lottery thing is a bit of a fix. I mean, I've been playing for ages now and I still have to get up in a morning and lose the best part of my day doing something I'd rather not be. And the kicker is, my job is pretty cool. I get to work with really nice people, listening to whatever music I want, and there's a really laid back atmosphere. Can you imagine what I'd be like with a crummy job, oh boy!
Yet still, I want to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. To have the money to get out there and do stuff instead of just dreaming about it.
Still, I've got a holiday coming up in the next year so this is just all fuel to the fire to make sure I get the best out of it.
If anyone of you know of something in the world that I simply must do before I die then go the Contact page and let me know. If I end up doing it I shall personally send you a post card from wherever in the world I may be. Now that my friend, is an offer!
29 November 2004
Congratulations, you're as useful as VD.
Today I was on my annual "what mobile phone deal can I get" shopping trip when I had the misfortune to walk into Phones 4 U. The first thing that happened once I had set foot into retail space was that someone asked me if I needed any help. Seeing as I knew exactly what I was after I thought I would take him up on the offer and save myself browsing time. "Actually", I replied "I'm looking for a PDA phone."
Silence.
"Oh" he managed after going through every PDA acronym he knew before realising he didn't know what 'acronym' stood for "I'll just go and ask someone"
and somehow it went downhill from there.
Now, I work in a ski and snowboard shop. I know little about ski's and snowboards. This is why I don't go up to people and ask them if they want help. What use am I? None.
Asking if I wanted help would imply that he could be of help to me. So why oh why when I told him what I wanted, did he look stunned. It's a PDA mate, you sell them, it's a type of mobile phone, I'm stood in a mobile phone shop, do the math.
So he went and got someone else and they got me sat down in "buyers corner", a subtle technique to make me feel compelled to buy which washed over me in exactly the same way his stinking cologne didn't, and they showed me the only PDA phone they sold.
Now I had done a mornings research on the internet to make sure I knew what I was after. I knew the particular model they showed me could not be used to access the internet in the way I needed it to. It was around this point that I thought I would play along and hopefully glean some information out of these people that I didn't already possess.
I asked if the phone could be used to access the internet. The guy, and I wish I was kidding here, turned the phone around in his hands, saw a button with a little arrow or globe on it or something and then informed me that it could indeed be used to access the internet. Well blow me away, it has a shortcut button on it. That answers all my questions straight away. I asked if they knew anything of the "walled garden" internet access as it is sloppily named, they did not. I explained that it could not be used for normal browsing, they seemed surprised. There was a man stood slightly away from us taking notes on a clip board. I had embarrassed the sales staff, they would have their revenge.
I went on to explain that I simply would not in any way be buying a phone unless I could get a full size keyboard to accompany it for text input. I know for a fact that you can buy these off the internet. The sales gang -there were now three of them- went on to explain that I could use the stylus provided to enter text and so I wouldn't need a keyboard. I explained that I would be producing Word documents and so I needed a keyboard as I could touch type and it would make it faster.
"You can input text really fast with the stylus though, it has a special input method to speed it up"
"Yes, but I can touch type so would prefer a keyboard."
"It's faster using a stylus than it is with a phone though."
"But I can touch type."
"Honestly you wouldn't believe how fast you can get."
Then it hit me. He didn't know what touch typing was. He imagined me sitting there with my mobile frantically bashing away with one thumb and he though that was what I meant.
Oh poor confused soul.
I asked if they stocked any keyboards but unfortunately they didn't.
"The only one that will work with this phone is not being released till next March."
"What about the one I could have bought off Amazon this morning?"
Silence.
Finally somebody asks me exactly why I want a PDA phone and separate keyboard. I explain and he looks at me, weighing his options.
He takes me slightly away from the others and gives me the heart to heart.
"It sounds to me mate, like you'd be better off with a laptop."
For the nth time I explain how I don't want a laptop as I need something small and portable.
"You can get them pretty small these days though."
"Yeah, but they cost a couple of thousand pounds."
"Small though."
Brilliant. No other word could describe it. I walk into a shop, am greeted by ignorance, lied to, and then told I should go somewhere else and spend a couple of thousand pounds to overcome my problem.
I have come to the conclusion that the Phones 4 U advert is not filmed in some backwards part of Kentucky, so much as in Birmingham, at the Phones 4 U annual staff party.
Needless to say, I shall never again be setting foot into any of their stores.
Luckily though, since last time we met, there have been happy times also. Times that I can look back on and smile. I was talking to a friend from uni last night, she went to the theatre to watch Chicago, I went to watch Joseph. Although this tragically highlighted the class difference between us, it only brought a grin to my face as I cast my mind back. Since Chris has already written about the night, I shall point you there.
And remember people, "It takes a man who knows no fear, to wrestle, with a goat."
Silence.
"Oh" he managed after going through every PDA acronym he knew before realising he didn't know what 'acronym' stood for "I'll just go and ask someone"
and somehow it went downhill from there.
Now, I work in a ski and snowboard shop. I know little about ski's and snowboards. This is why I don't go up to people and ask them if they want help. What use am I? None.
Asking if I wanted help would imply that he could be of help to me. So why oh why when I told him what I wanted, did he look stunned. It's a PDA mate, you sell them, it's a type of mobile phone, I'm stood in a mobile phone shop, do the math.
So he went and got someone else and they got me sat down in "buyers corner", a subtle technique to make me feel compelled to buy which washed over me in exactly the same way his stinking cologne didn't, and they showed me the only PDA phone they sold.
Now I had done a mornings research on the internet to make sure I knew what I was after. I knew the particular model they showed me could not be used to access the internet in the way I needed it to. It was around this point that I thought I would play along and hopefully glean some information out of these people that I didn't already possess.
I asked if the phone could be used to access the internet. The guy, and I wish I was kidding here, turned the phone around in his hands, saw a button with a little arrow or globe on it or something and then informed me that it could indeed be used to access the internet. Well blow me away, it has a shortcut button on it. That answers all my questions straight away. I asked if they knew anything of the "walled garden" internet access as it is sloppily named, they did not. I explained that it could not be used for normal browsing, they seemed surprised. There was a man stood slightly away from us taking notes on a clip board. I had embarrassed the sales staff, they would have their revenge.
I went on to explain that I simply would not in any way be buying a phone unless I could get a full size keyboard to accompany it for text input. I know for a fact that you can buy these off the internet. The sales gang -there were now three of them- went on to explain that I could use the stylus provided to enter text and so I wouldn't need a keyboard. I explained that I would be producing Word documents and so I needed a keyboard as I could touch type and it would make it faster.
"You can input text really fast with the stylus though, it has a special input method to speed it up"
"Yes, but I can touch type so would prefer a keyboard."
"It's faster using a stylus than it is with a phone though."
"But I can touch type."
"Honestly you wouldn't believe how fast you can get."
Then it hit me. He didn't know what touch typing was. He imagined me sitting there with my mobile frantically bashing away with one thumb and he though that was what I meant.
Oh poor confused soul.
I asked if they stocked any keyboards but unfortunately they didn't.
"The only one that will work with this phone is not being released till next March."
"What about the one I could have bought off Amazon this morning?"
Silence.
Finally somebody asks me exactly why I want a PDA phone and separate keyboard. I explain and he looks at me, weighing his options.
He takes me slightly away from the others and gives me the heart to heart.
"It sounds to me mate, like you'd be better off with a laptop."
For the nth time I explain how I don't want a laptop as I need something small and portable.
"You can get them pretty small these days though."
"Yeah, but they cost a couple of thousand pounds."
"Small though."
Brilliant. No other word could describe it. I walk into a shop, am greeted by ignorance, lied to, and then told I should go somewhere else and spend a couple of thousand pounds to overcome my problem.
I have come to the conclusion that the Phones 4 U advert is not filmed in some backwards part of Kentucky, so much as in Birmingham, at the Phones 4 U annual staff party.
Needless to say, I shall never again be setting foot into any of their stores.
Luckily though, since last time we met, there have been happy times also. Times that I can look back on and smile. I was talking to a friend from uni last night, she went to the theatre to watch Chicago, I went to watch Joseph. Although this tragically highlighted the class difference between us, it only brought a grin to my face as I cast my mind back. Since Chris has already written about the night, I shall point you there.
And remember people, "It takes a man who knows no fear, to wrestle, with a goat."
26 November 2004
You wanna buy some Skunk?
Was not a question I was expecting as I walked into Gap today. However, it would seem that buying drugs in my city centre is now simply a matter of walking around and looking like the type of person that would buy drugs. Unfortunately, if I was going to buy drugs would I really buy it off some random scabby guy that accosts me in the street? It would seem so much more logical that this guy should concentrate his efforts on the literal crowds of urban scum that accumulate like brown froth on shallow streams, rather than any old uber-dude that just happens to be walking by.
However, being the type of person that sells drugs in the street probably rules him out of being able to make these kind of informed decisions about society. That coupled with my blatant disregard for clothes that look like they were made to fit, hair so outrageously out of control that I'm seriously considering wearing a beanie to the gym, and a friend who look like he probably does use drugs on a regular basis, and I can kind of see where the poor chap was coming from.
Needless to say, I did not purchase any of this mans questionable-in-quality skunk and busied myself with distracting the manager of Gap from doing his job properly by trying on any item to hand and organising a "Welcome to the city" outing with him.
It was while in Gap, distracting the manager, not buying drugs, that I was remind of something that happened almost exactly three years ago. I was out shopping for a friends birthday and we decided we would get this ace stuffed monkey we had seen.
As a side note, this was not during the big ITV monkey saga, it was not the ITV monkey, the ITV monkey and this story, no relevance hold.
It was dressed in a bright yellow mak and hat which we thought were a bit lame so we decided to take it to Gap and get it some nice clobber. We entered the shop, went upstairs to the Baby Gap section and flagged the attention of a nice girl on sales.
The conversation went as close as matters to the following.
Hi, I think we're going to need a bit of help here.
OK, how old is the baby that you are buying for.
Well, it's not so much of a baby. . . . as we need you to dress this monkey.
(Wardy pulls the monkey from the bag with all the pride that a monkey can be pulled out of a bag with)
Oh.
Yeah.
True to form though she pulled through and we bought some tiny trousers and a tiny top. The monkey looked ace, the present was well received and another birthday went down a storm.
Remembering that made me wish I had started this blog when I was 15. So much stuff has happened that I have forgotten about. I know that most of it is lost forever so it's always nice to get things like this down so I can look back in years to come.
Saying that , the university dialogue is coming along nicely and if anyone reading this was at uni with me and can think of something memorable that happened, then mail me and I'll be sure to include it.
Theatre tomorrow, I'll let you know how it goes.
Skunkless Wardy out.
However, being the type of person that sells drugs in the street probably rules him out of being able to make these kind of informed decisions about society. That coupled with my blatant disregard for clothes that look like they were made to fit, hair so outrageously out of control that I'm seriously considering wearing a beanie to the gym, and a friend who look like he probably does use drugs on a regular basis, and I can kind of see where the poor chap was coming from.
Needless to say, I did not purchase any of this mans questionable-in-quality skunk and busied myself with distracting the manager of Gap from doing his job properly by trying on any item to hand and organising a "Welcome to the city" outing with him.
It was while in Gap, distracting the manager, not buying drugs, that I was remind of something that happened almost exactly three years ago. I was out shopping for a friends birthday and we decided we would get this ace stuffed monkey we had seen.
As a side note, this was not during the big ITV monkey saga, it was not the ITV monkey, the ITV monkey and this story, no relevance hold.
It was dressed in a bright yellow mak and hat which we thought were a bit lame so we decided to take it to Gap and get it some nice clobber. We entered the shop, went upstairs to the Baby Gap section and flagged the attention of a nice girl on sales.
The conversation went as close as matters to the following.
Hi, I think we're going to need a bit of help here.
OK, how old is the baby that you are buying for.
Well, it's not so much of a baby. . . . as we need you to dress this monkey.
(Wardy pulls the monkey from the bag with all the pride that a monkey can be pulled out of a bag with)
Oh.
Yeah.
True to form though she pulled through and we bought some tiny trousers and a tiny top. The monkey looked ace, the present was well received and another birthday went down a storm.
Remembering that made me wish I had started this blog when I was 15. So much stuff has happened that I have forgotten about. I know that most of it is lost forever so it's always nice to get things like this down so I can look back in years to come.
Saying that , the university dialogue is coming along nicely and if anyone reading this was at uni with me and can think of something memorable that happened, then mail me and I'll be sure to include it.
Theatre tomorrow, I'll let you know how it goes.
Skunkless Wardy out.
25 November 2004
Is it wrong to laugh on my own?
I have been sat here today in hysterics. I'm writing about my time at university and I was sat giggling to myself like a little girl as I typed away. It was the little things in the big things that made me laugh. For example, it wasn't so much the practical joke I was writing about that made me laugh, so much as the look on my housemates face when he watched me throw a bag of flour out the window. Just remembering how hard I was laughing on that day made me crack up all over again. I can still see Olly now, a look of complete astonishment on his face. Torn between laughing out loud, and being so astonished that he couldn't laugh.
Good times.
This is my first day off since graduation and it has been nice to just sit and write. I cant believe how hard I used to find it trying to find another 1000 words to put in an essay when today I just sat and wrote page after page without thinking about it. I really really want a cheap laptop. I think I'm going to go shopping for one with my first pay packet. I don't want anything fancy, just a word processor so I can go out and sit in other places when I write. If I can find one for below £100 then all the better.
Dodgy second hand shops and rip-off merchants, here I come!
Good times.
This is my first day off since graduation and it has been nice to just sit and write. I cant believe how hard I used to find it trying to find another 1000 words to put in an essay when today I just sat and wrote page after page without thinking about it. I really really want a cheap laptop. I think I'm going to go shopping for one with my first pay packet. I don't want anything fancy, just a word processor so I can go out and sit in other places when I write. If I can find one for below £100 then all the better.
Dodgy second hand shops and rip-off merchants, here I come!
23 November 2004
Work consumes me.
I really do wish I could update more. There has been a rash of funny stuff happen at work but I'm either in too late to write before I have to get to bed (I'm a bit of a sleep monster) or I'm just plain old knackered and want a nice cup of tea.
I'm going to the theatre this weekend. "Very cultured Wardy." I hear you shout, well it would be if I wasn't going to see Joseph and his amazing technicolor dreamcoat. If there were ever a show to remind me of my childhood this would be it. Car journeys listening to the tape from beginning to end, singing all the words are a memory I will never lose. Neither will I forget that I used to think they sang "And throw the Cheese into the Nile as well." I was young folks, and with a vivid mind. I did use to wonder what cheese had to do with it though.
My snowboarding is slowly improving. I'm only falling on my ass every other run now. I'm sure within a matter of months I'll be popping a 340 hang rail goofy backside grab thing on the merest of whims.
While I have written about a number of things over the time this blog has been up and running, never in a week have I had such a diverse range of people visit. I'm glad that I'm attracting attention, it's just that the sort of attention I'm attracting isn't always what I would expect.
If you are the company that you keep, I think I need to evaluate my life.
Decide for yourself which worse, the Geek (1st) , or the Freak (8th).
I'm going to the theatre this weekend. "Very cultured Wardy." I hear you shout, well it would be if I wasn't going to see Joseph and his amazing technicolor dreamcoat. If there were ever a show to remind me of my childhood this would be it. Car journeys listening to the tape from beginning to end, singing all the words are a memory I will never lose. Neither will I forget that I used to think they sang "And throw the Cheese into the Nile as well." I was young folks, and with a vivid mind. I did use to wonder what cheese had to do with it though.
My snowboarding is slowly improving. I'm only falling on my ass every other run now. I'm sure within a matter of months I'll be popping a 340 hang rail goofy backside grab thing on the merest of whims.
While I have written about a number of things over the time this blog has been up and running, never in a week have I had such a diverse range of people visit. I'm glad that I'm attracting attention, it's just that the sort of attention I'm attracting isn't always what I would expect.
If you are the company that you keep, I think I need to evaluate my life.
Decide for yourself which worse, the Geek (1st) , or the Freak (8th).
20 November 2004
Laters.
You may remember this post. Yeah I was on my soap-box, and with good reason too. The guy in question left for Afghanistan today. He's going back out after the country nearly took his life.
I used to think I was fairly brave. Now, I'm not so sure. It takes a whole different kind of courage to stand up and walk back towards a situation that almost killed you.
He is a Christian in the way that men should be.
Stay safe Tom.
I used to think I was fairly brave. Now, I'm not so sure. It takes a whole different kind of courage to stand up and walk back towards a situation that almost killed you.
He is a Christian in the way that men should be.
Stay safe Tom.
Wardy Fireball BSc.
It's over.
I've graduated.
Another part of my life is behind me. All I have left is memory and friends.
All I have left, is more than enough.
I've graduated.
Another part of my life is behind me. All I have left is memory and friends.
All I have left, is more than enough.
12 November 2004
It's my birthday . . . .yesterday.
I'm now yet another year older. Yesterday I turned 24 to the rapturous applause of myself. Now I'm getting old (ha) I think I should start setting definite goals for myself. Last year for me was all about graduating. Now I'm not at uni I don't really have anything to aim towards. I no longer have a big 'goal' in life. It should be my career, but hey, I don't even know what I want that to be. So instead of being some target that I can only achieve through brown nosing my way to the top in some dead end job I don't even want, my targets are going to be personal. They will be targets that I can achieve through just putting my mind to it, and getting on and doing them. Because of this they will be goals about me, they will not be goals about 'things'. For example, I was going to have "leave the country" on this list but I could walk down the street and book a ticket to anywhere. There is no process involved. These goals have to be about personal achievement, not materialistic gain.
And so, my targets are as follows.
- Be able to do the splits.
- Be able to do 10 one legged squats on each leg.
- Be able to do 5 one arm pushups on each arm.
- Be able to play the blues on the piano.
- Stop picking my nails.
- Write at least one of those things I've always said I should write.
There you go. So easy to write, so dastardly to accomplish!
The first three are physical goals. Now I've stopped trying to put weight on I've kinda slipped from going to the gym. I'm resigned that I'll never be the big, so I figure I should try and be strong instead. As for the splits, well I just think it's be cool to be able to do that!
The next is a skill. I love listening to music and have dabbled with playing instruments in the past. I have a bit of a soft spot for the piano so I'm gonna give it a go. 12-bar boogie here we come!
The next is personal. I have a horrid habbit of picking my nails. I just can't stop myself from doing it. I cannot remember a time when I didn't do it but it's getting annoying now. I constantly have really ratty, nasty nails. I'm almost embarrassed to let people see my hands. This has to end.
The last one is emotional. I've had something I've wanted to write going round my head for a while now. I even started it once but never got very far. I would love to just take myself away for a week to somewhere secluded and get it out my system. Just me, a laptop and nice whisky.
So this time next year I'll check back and see if I managed any of them.
I'm hoping this list will help me regain the motivation I seem to have lost over the past months. If I have something to work towards it should kick start me into life.
I want my spark back.
And so, my targets are as follows.
- Be able to do the splits.
- Be able to do 10 one legged squats on each leg.
- Be able to do 5 one arm pushups on each arm.
- Be able to play the blues on the piano.
- Stop picking my nails.
- Write at least one of those things I've always said I should write.
There you go. So easy to write, so dastardly to accomplish!
The first three are physical goals. Now I've stopped trying to put weight on I've kinda slipped from going to the gym. I'm resigned that I'll never be the big, so I figure I should try and be strong instead. As for the splits, well I just think it's be cool to be able to do that!
The next is a skill. I love listening to music and have dabbled with playing instruments in the past. I have a bit of a soft spot for the piano so I'm gonna give it a go. 12-bar boogie here we come!
The next is personal. I have a horrid habbit of picking my nails. I just can't stop myself from doing it. I cannot remember a time when I didn't do it but it's getting annoying now. I constantly have really ratty, nasty nails. I'm almost embarrassed to let people see my hands. This has to end.
The last one is emotional. I've had something I've wanted to write going round my head for a while now. I even started it once but never got very far. I would love to just take myself away for a week to somewhere secluded and get it out my system. Just me, a laptop and nice whisky.
So this time next year I'll check back and see if I managed any of them.
I'm hoping this list will help me regain the motivation I seem to have lost over the past months. If I have something to work towards it should kick start me into life.
I want my spark back.
08 November 2004
Too tired.
To write much. This is why.
Just time to say, apologies to the guy who found my site through this search. Denied.
I'm going to start running in a morning before work. Not going to the gym is making me feel all lethargic, I can almost feel my fitness levels dropping. Hopefully the painfully early mornings will become second nature to me soon and I wont dread them as much.
You may also remember the Piano vs Guitar problem that I was musing over before. Well today I bought myself a book on playing the piano, I'm going to use my evenings for something more constructive than watching telly.
One of my workmates is giving me a snowboarding lesson tomorrow too so in a couple of months I should have a two more skills to add to my repertoire.
Tired, so very tired.
Wardy out.
Just time to say, apologies to the guy who found my site through this search. Denied.
I'm going to start running in a morning before work. Not going to the gym is making me feel all lethargic, I can almost feel my fitness levels dropping. Hopefully the painfully early mornings will become second nature to me soon and I wont dread them as much.
You may also remember the Piano vs Guitar problem that I was musing over before. Well today I bought myself a book on playing the piano, I'm going to use my evenings for something more constructive than watching telly.
One of my workmates is giving me a snowboarding lesson tomorrow too so in a couple of months I should have a two more skills to add to my repertoire.
Tired, so very tired.
Wardy out.
03 November 2004
Captain Ronald Brown.
My entire blog entry for the last week has just paled into insignificance after seeing this picture of Ron on the internet. Coupled with the e-mail I just got off him I have been sat here laughing my ass off.
Ron is a bandit who fully bailed on me to go on the worlds most spectacular holiday leaving me in England having to catch busses in the freezing cold and work eleven hour days.
He also got me pushed in a canal because he's too stupid to react fast.
I say these things because I'm jealous.
PS. Ron once vomited on his pillow because he didn't lean far enough out his window to be sick while drunk. This is the type of person that is protecting our environment.
Start worrying,
,
,
,
now.
Ron is a bandit who fully bailed on me to go on the worlds most spectacular holiday leaving me in England having to catch busses in the freezing cold and work eleven hour days.
He also got me pushed in a canal because he's too stupid to react fast.
I say these things because I'm jealous.
PS. Ron once vomited on his pillow because he didn't lean far enough out his window to be sick while drunk. This is the type of person that is protecting our environment.
Start worrying,
,
,
,
now.
26 October 2004
The Debate Rages On!
Which is cooler. Zero gravity, or throwing cats.
Now, most people have easy access to a cat which they can throw. Not so many of us can quickly and reliably experience weightlessness. This has often meant that this debate could never be answered. Untill now.
Why can't we all just get along, and enjoy both at the same time!
Now, most people have easy access to a cat which they can throw. Not so many of us can quickly and reliably experience weightlessness. This has often meant that this debate could never be answered. Untill now.
Why can't we all just get along, and enjoy both at the same time!
25 October 2004
This is what the internet is about.
Cast your mind back if you may, to when I was harking on about The How And The Tao Of Old Time Banjo. Well the guy who wrote the book mailed me and thanked me for drumming up support.
Now, I'm not one to let a kind gesture like that go unnoticed, so it is without further ado that I bring two of my favourite things together: Music and Nice People.
Patrick Costello is so cool that not only has he released one book on the internet free of charge, he has put a second one on too. The How And The Tao Of Folk Guitar Volume One: Getting Started is now free for the world to enjoy. This means that if you want to learn how to play folk guitar, you can get first rate information, free. He is also releasing the second and third books in the series under the Creative Commons licence so you will be able to get those free in the future too.
It is people like Patrick Costello that make the internet great. Everybody sharing the knowledge they have with each other, no string attached.
If you already play the guitar, go and look for fresh ideas; if you are wanting to learn, what better place to start.
I know quite a few people that are learning to play the guitar and I expect you all to check this book out.
Help out the good guys people, it doesn't cost you anything and in your own little way you are helping to shape the internet into a bigger, better thing.
Now, I'm not one to let a kind gesture like that go unnoticed, so it is without further ado that I bring two of my favourite things together: Music and Nice People.
Patrick Costello is so cool that not only has he released one book on the internet free of charge, he has put a second one on too. The How And The Tao Of Folk Guitar Volume One: Getting Started is now free for the world to enjoy. This means that if you want to learn how to play folk guitar, you can get first rate information, free. He is also releasing the second and third books in the series under the Creative Commons licence so you will be able to get those free in the future too.
It is people like Patrick Costello that make the internet great. Everybody sharing the knowledge they have with each other, no string attached.
If you already play the guitar, go and look for fresh ideas; if you are wanting to learn, what better place to start.
I know quite a few people that are learning to play the guitar and I expect you all to check this book out.
Help out the good guys people, it doesn't cost you anything and in your own little way you are helping to shape the internet into a bigger, better thing.
21 October 2004
Cheating and stupidity.
We would awake. The crisp morning sun would beam through our thin curtains lighting the room with a welcoming glow.
We would roll over, pull the duvet over our head and try to fall back to sleep.
I've always preferred sunrise to sunset. I can see how sunsets have become more popular as you are usually awake to witness a sunset, and so appreciate it. But sunsets represent the end of something. Watching sunsets marks the end of a beautiful day or the end of a memorable year. Sunrise gets shunned. But to me, sunrise means more. You have to make an effort to witness a sunrise. You don't witness a sunrise by being drunk one night and just happening to be watching the sky when the sun goes down. To catch a sunrise needs a bit of effort. To me they mean more, they mark the beginning of something. They are the start, and sunset is the end. I'm all for fresh starts.
Apart from when you've had a bit too much to drink the night before. In that case, sack sunrise. Who cares a bit about its beauty or majesty, turn it off. Make the light go away, shut the blinds, get me a glass of water, and make it night again.
I didn't appreciate one morning at the cottage. The only happiness they brought me was thinking back to the night before and remembering the laughs that we had.
Laughs like playing board games.
First up was Pictionary. The lads (me and Chris) got fully owned by the gals (Katie and Jo). It was painful to watch us lose. Chris is a graphic designer and with my imagination I thought we would have this game sewn up.
Not so.
We even cheated and still lost.
Well, I say Cheated. That is a strong word. It brings with it connotations of deceitfulness and dishonesty. We didn't so much cheat as we did strongly imply what a word may be. . . through the use of pictures. . . and some letters. . . . letters which may or may not have spelt the word we were trying to guess. . . . repeatedly.
But it all came unstuck when after a seemingly superhuman effort I guessed Leisure Centre in all of nine seconds. (damn you alcohol for clouding my judgement of time!) The gals asked to see our picture, and well you know. . . we didn't have one.
Busted.
So the rest of the game was played with all decorum and we got our assess whipped.
But the night after when we played again. . . this was a different kettle of fish.
The word was Dragonfly. It was an Allplay, so we were against each other to see who could guess it first. Chris and Jo were drawing, me and Katie were on interpretation duty.
The timer was started. Chris started on his abstract construct of what he sees as a Dragonfly. I got as far as Moth before taking a large swig from my whisky and wondering where the hell he was going with this.
Sure doom was looking us in the face. Chris has started on a tangent which no doubt was meant to 'help' me. My guesses were becoming more erratic, time was nearly out, the page was starting to resemble an entomologists scrap book, when from out of nowhere our deliverance sounded.
Imagine, if you will. What a whisper would sound like if it were not so much a whisper, as a cough . . . and if the volume didn't so much resemble the volume of a whisper, so much as that of a cough. . . . and if the whisper didn't sound so much like " wsshs" so much as "Dragonfly".
Imagine if you will, girls trying to cheat at Pictionary.
Whisper-coughing the word, loudly, when the opposition are sat no more than a meter away is not recommended practice for increasing your chances of 'getting away with it'.
Needless to say that Chris and I went on to take the game with a commanding lead. A lead so commanding in fact that it has been rumoured that we cheated. This is a rumour that we shall neither confirm nor deny. Needless to say that if we were cheating, we got it down to a fine art and for the whole game nobody noticed.
That is of course, if we were cheating. Which we were not. Not at all. Not once. Never.
After picturing ourselves out we though a game of Scrabble would calm things down.
Oh ho ho . . .wrong.
Before I tell this story. You have to remember that I was drinking the finest single malt Scottish whisky. Laphroig aged 15 years. Sweet and surprisingly mellow to start, with a slow burning peat smoke flavour building up towards the finish. This stuff is gorgeous, not my favourite, but a fine fine whisky none the less. This was a high pressure environment I was in, we were playing board games for heavens sake. I had consumed maybe more of this whisky than my cognitive capacity would have liked.
I had a great word ready. It was Wessex (a place in England). There was one E on the board and I had another. The move before mine Chris put a word down and I no longer had room for my super word. My W would have joined our too words together. I was gutted, I could see nothing else on the board. I would have got a double word score for this, and now, nothing. After longer than was socially acceptable sat looking at the board I had to throw my problem over to the other players. I could see no alternative.
I told them of my problem and a silence descended. They sat there looking at each other, confused faces one and all. I could see pity in their eyes, 'I know' I thought, 'my letters suck'. I could feel their condolences reaching out for me across the table, an almost unified sigh of regret that my letters, did indeed, suck.
Katie turned to me, she looked me straight in the eye, I could tell that this was where my game ended. I would have to pull out, put my letters back in the bag and make coffee for everyone. She took a controlled breath. "Wow" I thought, "she's taking this a bit hard".
With all the pity in the world, she looked at me and said,
"Why don't you just have Essex. . . . . Numbnuts!"
Awwww, Damn.
It was looking me in the face the whole time. The worst part about it was that I didn't even twig straight away and had to check that I had all the letters.
Man alive, sometimes I embarrasses myself.
Needless to say, I lost at scrabble. . . twice.
More tomorrow.
We would roll over, pull the duvet over our head and try to fall back to sleep.
I've always preferred sunrise to sunset. I can see how sunsets have become more popular as you are usually awake to witness a sunset, and so appreciate it. But sunsets represent the end of something. Watching sunsets marks the end of a beautiful day or the end of a memorable year. Sunrise gets shunned. But to me, sunrise means more. You have to make an effort to witness a sunrise. You don't witness a sunrise by being drunk one night and just happening to be watching the sky when the sun goes down. To catch a sunrise needs a bit of effort. To me they mean more, they mark the beginning of something. They are the start, and sunset is the end. I'm all for fresh starts.
Apart from when you've had a bit too much to drink the night before. In that case, sack sunrise. Who cares a bit about its beauty or majesty, turn it off. Make the light go away, shut the blinds, get me a glass of water, and make it night again.
I didn't appreciate one morning at the cottage. The only happiness they brought me was thinking back to the night before and remembering the laughs that we had.
Laughs like playing board games.
First up was Pictionary. The lads (me and Chris) got fully owned by the gals (Katie and Jo). It was painful to watch us lose. Chris is a graphic designer and with my imagination I thought we would have this game sewn up.
Not so.
We even cheated and still lost.
Well, I say Cheated. That is a strong word. It brings with it connotations of deceitfulness and dishonesty. We didn't so much cheat as we did strongly imply what a word may be. . . through the use of pictures. . . and some letters. . . . letters which may or may not have spelt the word we were trying to guess. . . . repeatedly.
But it all came unstuck when after a seemingly superhuman effort I guessed Leisure Centre in all of nine seconds. (damn you alcohol for clouding my judgement of time!) The gals asked to see our picture, and well you know. . . we didn't have one.
Busted.
So the rest of the game was played with all decorum and we got our assess whipped.
But the night after when we played again. . . this was a different kettle of fish.
The word was Dragonfly. It was an Allplay, so we were against each other to see who could guess it first. Chris and Jo were drawing, me and Katie were on interpretation duty.
The timer was started. Chris started on his abstract construct of what he sees as a Dragonfly. I got as far as Moth before taking a large swig from my whisky and wondering where the hell he was going with this.
Sure doom was looking us in the face. Chris has started on a tangent which no doubt was meant to 'help' me. My guesses were becoming more erratic, time was nearly out, the page was starting to resemble an entomologists scrap book, when from out of nowhere our deliverance sounded.
Imagine, if you will. What a whisper would sound like if it were not so much a whisper, as a cough . . . and if the volume didn't so much resemble the volume of a whisper, so much as that of a cough. . . . and if the whisper didn't sound so much like " wsshs" so much as "Dragonfly".
Imagine if you will, girls trying to cheat at Pictionary.
Whisper-coughing the word, loudly, when the opposition are sat no more than a meter away is not recommended practice for increasing your chances of 'getting away with it'.
Needless to say that Chris and I went on to take the game with a commanding lead. A lead so commanding in fact that it has been rumoured that we cheated. This is a rumour that we shall neither confirm nor deny. Needless to say that if we were cheating, we got it down to a fine art and for the whole game nobody noticed.
That is of course, if we were cheating. Which we were not. Not at all. Not once. Never.
After picturing ourselves out we though a game of Scrabble would calm things down.
Oh ho ho . . .wrong.
Before I tell this story. You have to remember that I was drinking the finest single malt Scottish whisky. Laphroig aged 15 years. Sweet and surprisingly mellow to start, with a slow burning peat smoke flavour building up towards the finish. This stuff is gorgeous, not my favourite, but a fine fine whisky none the less. This was a high pressure environment I was in, we were playing board games for heavens sake. I had consumed maybe more of this whisky than my cognitive capacity would have liked.
I had a great word ready. It was Wessex (a place in England). There was one E on the board and I had another. The move before mine Chris put a word down and I no longer had room for my super word. My W would have joined our too words together. I was gutted, I could see nothing else on the board. I would have got a double word score for this, and now, nothing. After longer than was socially acceptable sat looking at the board I had to throw my problem over to the other players. I could see no alternative.
I told them of my problem and a silence descended. They sat there looking at each other, confused faces one and all. I could see pity in their eyes, 'I know' I thought, 'my letters suck'. I could feel their condolences reaching out for me across the table, an almost unified sigh of regret that my letters, did indeed, suck.
Katie turned to me, she looked me straight in the eye, I could tell that this was where my game ended. I would have to pull out, put my letters back in the bag and make coffee for everyone. She took a controlled breath. "Wow" I thought, "she's taking this a bit hard".
With all the pity in the world, she looked at me and said,
"Why don't you just have Essex. . . . . Numbnuts!"
Awwww, Damn.
It was looking me in the face the whole time. The worst part about it was that I didn't even twig straight away and had to check that I had all the letters.
Man alive, sometimes I embarrasses myself.
Needless to say, I lost at scrabble. . . twice.
More tomorrow.
Wardy gets all academic.
Would you belive it. Check this bad boy out.
Who says I can't be serious when I want to.
To whoever it was that did this search, I hope it helped.
Who says I can't be serious when I want to.
To whoever it was that did this search, I hope it helped.
20 October 2004
Dawn of the brain dead.
Setting off on Thursday I was expecting to be able to just kick back and relax. I thought this trip would chill me out. I was hoping for a nice sit down in the country, a couple of red wines by the open fire, intellectual conversation and a general feeling of well being.
Boy, was I disappointed.
It all started in Loughborough (pronounced Luffburra for the American contingent). Katie and I stopped off at Safeways to get some drinks in. As we were leaving the shop we were presented with a display of child-parent trust that would change my entire outlook of the weekend.
They were dawdling. Nobody likes being stuck behind dawdlers. As we ever so slowly followed Gran, Mum and Kid out the automatic doors my mind was on the car journey ahead of us. Mum was holding Kids hand. They approached the doors. The Kid was looking forwards. He was looking forwards. He was looking forwards. He just walked plain as day into a wall.
Just like that. Wham!
Don't laugh Wardy. Crap, Katies gonna laugh. Look away. How did he not see the wall?? Parents are Very close by, for the love of God don't laugh! Walk away, walk away from the parents and walk away from Katie. Katie is giggling, walk away from her, walk anywhere but just walk and don't laugh!
Don't laugh Wardy!
This poor kid was led directly into a wall by his mom. They were holding hands and I'm guessing that the Kid wasn't leading. I will never know how neither of them saw this collision coming. Yet for a good 10 meters the impact was inevitable and neither of them tried to rectify the situation. Wham!
From that moment, my relaxing weekend away was changed from the calm tempered, red wine sipping, open fire stoking, fresh air breathing experience I was hoping for, into a riotous four days. Not a day passed in which I did not laugh with all my breath. It was a far better break than I could have hoped for.
Here of a select few of the highlights.
Dawn.
We stopped at a service station on the way down for a pick-me-up coffee. As we went to pay for the goods we were met with a suspiciously jolly Brummie. You know the type, the ones that overcompensate for hating their jobs by being everything and more management want them to be in the vain hope they will get promoted and no longer have to serve rude business types their complicated coffee orders while fending off advances from the 'chef' who works behind the hot sausage rolls and pies counter.
I digress.
Dawn was obviously a woman. I mean no disrespect by this. Just to clarify that even from a distance, you would assume she was a woman. There was no doubt in my mind that Dawn was a woman.
I went to pay for our coffees and was presented with a grin as wide as her midlands accent was annoying.
"€œMy names not Michael."
- Cue me, stood, looking shocked.
- Still looking shocked.
- Trying to think of something to say.
- Feeling helpless.
"Oh, did you forget your name badge and had to wear another one then?" cue nervous laughter.
"No."
"My names not Michael."
- Cue me, just stood there. Lost for words.
- Still stood.
- Waiting to pay for coffee.
- I'm confused too now.
"Oh, how much is the coffee?"
- Clever, just ignore her, pay for the coffee and get the hell away.
"It's £3.60. But if they ask, my names not Michael."
- If WHO ask. The doctors?
- What does this woman want of me. Give me my coffee and let me go. I thought the motorways were meant to be the safest way to travel by car. Apparently they didn't take service stations into account.
"On the receipt, it says I'm called Michael, but I'm not. I've borrowed someone's card."
- Finally I understand. On the receipt, which she has not yet given me, it will say I was served by Michael, not Dawn. I will look at this receipt for all the time it takes to put it in my pocket, which I can't do because she is yet to give it me.
Instead of just telling me to ignore the name on the receipt, which I can image would be important for one in a couple of hundred thousand people, she just sends out crazy signals and expects me to join dots that I don't even know exist.
My names not Michael.
That's great love, but instead of playing impossi-puzzles with you can I just pay for my drinks and be on my way. Guessing an unimportant error on a piece of paper I wont look at, before you have even given it to me, was not on my top ten list today.
I blame the businessmen for turning normal workers into this.
The Jolly Locals.
I went into the local video store to buy a Scart adaptor. The guy who served us was the single most cheery man I have met. He could not have been happier to see us. He was delighted that he had what we were looking for. He was over the moon that we were buying something. He was overjoyed that we had nearly the right money. He was ecstatic that were happy customers. He was great.
Then I had to have an obligatory look in the charity shops. We found some funny stuff to buy, it came to the earth shattering total of 50p. At the counter the lovely dear couldn't quite get her head around us trying to give her a full pound, when it only came to 50p. She kept on counting the coins as if to clarify to herself that we had given her too much. She insisted we didn't have to. We assured her it was no bother. She looked so surprised it made it all worthwhile.
There is more to tell about the weekend, including "Cheating at board games, Why girls shouldn't try" and "My train carriage is flooding, how nice."
But before this post gets too long to be interesting I'm going to end it.
More tomorrow.
ps - apologies to Dawn. I try to avoid being directly rude about people but the title of this post made me laugh. sorry lass.
Boy, was I disappointed.
It all started in Loughborough (pronounced Luffburra for the American contingent). Katie and I stopped off at Safeways to get some drinks in. As we were leaving the shop we were presented with a display of child-parent trust that would change my entire outlook of the weekend.
They were dawdling. Nobody likes being stuck behind dawdlers. As we ever so slowly followed Gran, Mum and Kid out the automatic doors my mind was on the car journey ahead of us. Mum was holding Kids hand. They approached the doors. The Kid was looking forwards. He was looking forwards. He was looking forwards. He just walked plain as day into a wall.
Just like that. Wham!
Don't laugh Wardy. Crap, Katies gonna laugh. Look away. How did he not see the wall?? Parents are Very close by, for the love of God don't laugh! Walk away, walk away from the parents and walk away from Katie. Katie is giggling, walk away from her, walk anywhere but just walk and don't laugh!
Don't laugh Wardy!
This poor kid was led directly into a wall by his mom. They were holding hands and I'm guessing that the Kid wasn't leading. I will never know how neither of them saw this collision coming. Yet for a good 10 meters the impact was inevitable and neither of them tried to rectify the situation. Wham!
From that moment, my relaxing weekend away was changed from the calm tempered, red wine sipping, open fire stoking, fresh air breathing experience I was hoping for, into a riotous four days. Not a day passed in which I did not laugh with all my breath. It was a far better break than I could have hoped for.
Here of a select few of the highlights.
Dawn.
We stopped at a service station on the way down for a pick-me-up coffee. As we went to pay for the goods we were met with a suspiciously jolly Brummie. You know the type, the ones that overcompensate for hating their jobs by being everything and more management want them to be in the vain hope they will get promoted and no longer have to serve rude business types their complicated coffee orders while fending off advances from the 'chef' who works behind the hot sausage rolls and pies counter.
I digress.
Dawn was obviously a woman. I mean no disrespect by this. Just to clarify that even from a distance, you would assume she was a woman. There was no doubt in my mind that Dawn was a woman.
I went to pay for our coffees and was presented with a grin as wide as her midlands accent was annoying.
"€œMy names not Michael."
- Cue me, stood, looking shocked.
- Still looking shocked.
- Trying to think of something to say.
- Feeling helpless.
"Oh, did you forget your name badge and had to wear another one then?" cue nervous laughter.
"No."
"My names not Michael."
- Cue me, just stood there. Lost for words.
- Still stood.
- Waiting to pay for coffee.
- I'm confused too now.
"Oh, how much is the coffee?"
- Clever, just ignore her, pay for the coffee and get the hell away.
"It's £3.60. But if they ask, my names not Michael."
- If WHO ask. The doctors?
- What does this woman want of me. Give me my coffee and let me go. I thought the motorways were meant to be the safest way to travel by car. Apparently they didn't take service stations into account.
"On the receipt, it says I'm called Michael, but I'm not. I've borrowed someone's card."
- Finally I understand. On the receipt, which she has not yet given me, it will say I was served by Michael, not Dawn. I will look at this receipt for all the time it takes to put it in my pocket, which I can't do because she is yet to give it me.
Instead of just telling me to ignore the name on the receipt, which I can image would be important for one in a couple of hundred thousand people, she just sends out crazy signals and expects me to join dots that I don't even know exist.
My names not Michael.
That's great love, but instead of playing impossi-puzzles with you can I just pay for my drinks and be on my way. Guessing an unimportant error on a piece of paper I wont look at, before you have even given it to me, was not on my top ten list today.
I blame the businessmen for turning normal workers into this.
The Jolly Locals.
I went into the local video store to buy a Scart adaptor. The guy who served us was the single most cheery man I have met. He could not have been happier to see us. He was delighted that he had what we were looking for. He was over the moon that we were buying something. He was overjoyed that we had nearly the right money. He was ecstatic that were happy customers. He was great.
Then I had to have an obligatory look in the charity shops. We found some funny stuff to buy, it came to the earth shattering total of 50p. At the counter the lovely dear couldn't quite get her head around us trying to give her a full pound, when it only came to 50p. She kept on counting the coins as if to clarify to herself that we had given her too much. She insisted we didn't have to. We assured her it was no bother. She looked so surprised it made it all worthwhile.
There is more to tell about the weekend, including "Cheating at board games, Why girls shouldn't try" and "My train carriage is flooding, how nice."
But before this post gets too long to be interesting I'm going to end it.
More tomorrow.
ps - apologies to Dawn. I try to avoid being directly rude about people but the title of this post made me laugh. sorry lass.
10 October 2004
Sweet money, and bitter blood.
Once again the world shows that it likes to keep a balance in all things.
This weekend was yet another example of why you shouldn?t get too down when things are rough, and you shouldn?t get too happy when things are good.
I found out this Friday that I got the job I wanted. Yehaa and all that. This should mean that in about five months I will have mastered the basics of snowboarding and will be able to go on holiday somewhere snowy and actually have a laugh, as apposed to still being in the ?falling down while learning? stage.
So, we have a new job. This = Good.
Well that afternoon I took my bike out into the peaks for the first real test of its performance. (yes, another story about my bike, lucky you). All was going well, I was definitely faster than usual, confidence levels were high, storming along the top of some crags, my brain registering and evaluating every rock and making split second decisions about which route to take.
Well, that was the theory.
But where the body was willing, the brain failed. To me, the riding, and the pain were not separated by time, My brain was too shocked to register the flight and commit it to memory. One moment I was riding, the next I had face planted a rock, absolutely sure that I had broken my nose.
As luck would have it, my nose did not break. This is thanks solely to my helmet. The front of my helmet stopped my face from being too closely introduced to the rock. So while my soft squidy nose took the initial impact, my helmet quickly took over and stopped me messing my features up.
After a quick breather to compose myself, we set off and finished the ride. Oh yeah, we also had to cycle back up to the top of the massive hill because even though we had two cars and were going to shuttle run it back to top, someone forgot the keys.
. . . oh yeah. . . that was me. . . sorry Ez!
My first major ?new bike? ride and my first major fall. Lets hope I don?t keep this up eh.
So, I fell off my bike. This = Bad.
If I have learnt one thing, it is that you shouldn?t get smug when things go right, and you shouldn?t get down when they go wrong.
The world really is in balance, just ride it out.
This weekend was yet another example of why you shouldn?t get too down when things are rough, and you shouldn?t get too happy when things are good.
I found out this Friday that I got the job I wanted. Yehaa and all that. This should mean that in about five months I will have mastered the basics of snowboarding and will be able to go on holiday somewhere snowy and actually have a laugh, as apposed to still being in the ?falling down while learning? stage.
So, we have a new job. This = Good.
Well that afternoon I took my bike out into the peaks for the first real test of its performance. (yes, another story about my bike, lucky you). All was going well, I was definitely faster than usual, confidence levels were high, storming along the top of some crags, my brain registering and evaluating every rock and making split second decisions about which route to take.
Well, that was the theory.
But where the body was willing, the brain failed. To me, the riding, and the pain were not separated by time, My brain was too shocked to register the flight and commit it to memory. One moment I was riding, the next I had face planted a rock, absolutely sure that I had broken my nose.
As luck would have it, my nose did not break. This is thanks solely to my helmet. The front of my helmet stopped my face from being too closely introduced to the rock. So while my soft squidy nose took the initial impact, my helmet quickly took over and stopped me messing my features up.
After a quick breather to compose myself, we set off and finished the ride. Oh yeah, we also had to cycle back up to the top of the massive hill because even though we had two cars and were going to shuttle run it back to top, someone forgot the keys.
. . . oh yeah. . . that was me. . . sorry Ez!
My first major ?new bike? ride and my first major fall. Lets hope I don?t keep this up eh.
So, I fell off my bike. This = Bad.
If I have learnt one thing, it is that you shouldn?t get smug when things go right, and you shouldn?t get down when they go wrong.
The world really is in balance, just ride it out.
Linkage.
Every now and again I like to post up some of the more interesting parts of the internet that I have found. Then I e-mail the post to Blogger, then I spend the next 15 minutes sorting out all the html that gets messed up somewhere between me hitting send, and the post getting published.
Every time.
Without fail.
Every been a child. Ever dreamt of having your own secret underground hideout" I still to this day dream of having a secret underground hideout. I saw recently on some Dream Home program this place in Turkey that had been built on the entrance to a cave and the house opened up in the kitchen to a huge cave complex. It took about five to seven seconds for me to fall deeply in love with the house. Image it, your own cave! How superhero cool is that. Finding some unexplored part of a city that you can take refuge in just rocks. The instinct is just built into us. Exploring is fun, even more so when you are doing it in secret under everyone"s noses. That is why I fully, and with all my heart, love this story. I found it a while back and forgot to write about it. It has everything that my heart craves, adventure, secret clubs, mystery and an out of this world "we know who you are" ending.
Man, I wish I was invited.
Luckily for me though, I have found a way to inject this adventure into my life. Thanks to advances in modern technology we can now experience what is usually reserved for backwards thinking, hooch drinking inbred rednecks.
While all this wishful thinking and daydreaming is nice, I still do find the time to get out into the real world every now and again.
It was during one of these excursions that I learnt something very important.
I was sat talking to a girl and she assured me that cooking is the way to a woman"s heart. I thought she was kidding at first but she assured me that if a man shows he is handy in the kitchen, he scores big points. This came as a bit of a blow as I"ve been stockpiling expensive diamond rings and air miles to romantic destinations to aid me in my "wooing". After thinking carefully about it I went on to sell all this expensive crap and found a website that can help turn my easily bored, analytical mind into a fine food super machine.
Now all I need is a date to try my finest cuisine on.
Every time.
Without fail.
Every been a child. Ever dreamt of having your own secret underground hideout" I still to this day dream of having a secret underground hideout. I saw recently on some Dream Home program this place in Turkey that had been built on the entrance to a cave and the house opened up in the kitchen to a huge cave complex. It took about five to seven seconds for me to fall deeply in love with the house. Image it, your own cave! How superhero cool is that. Finding some unexplored part of a city that you can take refuge in just rocks. The instinct is just built into us. Exploring is fun, even more so when you are doing it in secret under everyone"s noses. That is why I fully, and with all my heart, love this story. I found it a while back and forgot to write about it. It has everything that my heart craves, adventure, secret clubs, mystery and an out of this world "we know who you are" ending.
Man, I wish I was invited.
Luckily for me though, I have found a way to inject this adventure into my life. Thanks to advances in modern technology we can now experience what is usually reserved for backwards thinking, hooch drinking inbred rednecks.
While all this wishful thinking and daydreaming is nice, I still do find the time to get out into the real world every now and again.
It was during one of these excursions that I learnt something very important.
I was sat talking to a girl and she assured me that cooking is the way to a woman"s heart. I thought she was kidding at first but she assured me that if a man shows he is handy in the kitchen, he scores big points. This came as a bit of a blow as I"ve been stockpiling expensive diamond rings and air miles to romantic destinations to aid me in my "wooing". After thinking carefully about it I went on to sell all this expensive crap and found a website that can help turn my easily bored, analytical mind into a fine food super machine.
Now all I need is a date to try my finest cuisine on.
06 October 2004
Unimaginable knowledge.
There have been a few baddies over the years trying to amass such a thing.
If only they had been alive in the future then it would have been so easy.
Brewster Kahle (founder of the Internet Archive, my favourite source for free and legal downloadable music) just delivered an amazing presentation called Universal Access to All Human Knowledge. He basically wants to archive all the information ever created in the world. Notes from the presentation taken by Cory Doctorow can be found here.
Can you imagine having free and quick access to all the information in the world. Man alive, I can waste time with the best of them on the internet, but to have literally all the information in the world at my fingertips would be too cool for words. I don't know what I'd do with it like, but it would be nice to find out.
For the nay-sayers out there, let me whet your appetite for universal knowledge with this book which is available online thanks to the Creative Commons licence. Sit back, buckle up and get ready for the might that is The How and the Tao of old Time Banjo.
I think we have a banjo in the attic somewhere. I might just have to get it out and see if I can rip chords with the best of them.
Changing direction slightly. President Bush is so god-awful stupid that this is probably true. It wouldn't even surprise me if this was actually the President but names had to be changed to protect the uncommonly dumb.
Lastly, this is just another example of why we'll tolerate the French, just that little bit longer.
If only they had been alive in the future then it would have been so easy.
Brewster Kahle (founder of the Internet Archive, my favourite source for free and legal downloadable music) just delivered an amazing presentation called Universal Access to All Human Knowledge. He basically wants to archive all the information ever created in the world. Notes from the presentation taken by Cory Doctorow can be found here.
Can you imagine having free and quick access to all the information in the world. Man alive, I can waste time with the best of them on the internet, but to have literally all the information in the world at my fingertips would be too cool for words. I don't know what I'd do with it like, but it would be nice to find out.
For the nay-sayers out there, let me whet your appetite for universal knowledge with this book which is available online thanks to the Creative Commons licence. Sit back, buckle up and get ready for the might that is The How and the Tao of old Time Banjo.
I think we have a banjo in the attic somewhere. I might just have to get it out and see if I can rip chords with the best of them.
Changing direction slightly. President Bush is so god-awful stupid that this is probably true. It wouldn't even surprise me if this was actually the President but names had to be changed to protect the uncommonly dumb.
Lastly, this is just another example of why we'll tolerate the French, just that little bit longer.
05 October 2004
Hair and Bikes.
Two of the subjects that have been taking up space in this blog recently.
Lets go through them in order.
Hair.
I decided to get a haircut as my graduation is coming up and my hair was
moving away from "cooky cool" to "Hasselhoff cool". I got some pictures of
what I was after and booked myself into a salon to have a word with one of
the guys. We chatted about what would and wouldn't work with Gene Wilders
rejected hairpiece and he had some grand ideas. Seeing as it wasn't going to
cost me the earth (a sign a should have noted) I decided to just go ahead
with it. The plan was to take the bulk out of the afro I was sporting and
leave a smaller fro with wispy bits sticking out aka medusa.
However, once the cut was finished and the 'product' reared its ugly head,
my stubborn curls got their revenge. The wispy bits just refused to be
wispy. They curled straight back on to themselves and disappeared back into
my now very much smaller afro.
This means I have now gone from zero maintenance but subject to taste hair,
to high maintenance but subject to taste hair. Not a good move.
I'm determined that my hair will look good long. It just has to. I've lived
with short hair for way too long to have to deal with it again. So I'm back
to growing my hair. Luckily he didn't fully crop me so there is a fair bit
of length there, once pulled straight.
Note to self, trying to make yourself look cool doesn't work.
Take what you've got and roll with it.
Bikes.
I got my first air today. . . SIR!
Oh yes, the obligatory "Point Blank" esqe quote to kick things off. But I
did indeed, catch my first air today. While exploring the local woods I
found a bike trail fully set up with cambered corners, jumps and all. I
found a jump that had 'beginner' written all over it and got to work. My
progress was in three distinct phases.
ONE.
Rolling over the jump at speed and summing up more and more courage to go
faster each time and finally get a wheel off the floor.
TWO.
Getting the front wheel to travel a fair distance but not really feeling
like I was 'jumping'. More 'hitting the ramp at speed'.
THREE.
A real life jump. Landing on the rear wheel first (most of the time), and
feeling like a champion.
I've got to get good at this jumping lark, it just looks so groovy on the
telly.
I want a piece of that.
Lets go through them in order.
Hair.
I decided to get a haircut as my graduation is coming up and my hair was
moving away from "cooky cool" to "Hasselhoff cool". I got some pictures of
what I was after and booked myself into a salon to have a word with one of
the guys. We chatted about what would and wouldn't work with Gene Wilders
rejected hairpiece and he had some grand ideas. Seeing as it wasn't going to
cost me the earth (a sign a should have noted) I decided to just go ahead
with it. The plan was to take the bulk out of the afro I was sporting and
leave a smaller fro with wispy bits sticking out aka medusa.
However, once the cut was finished and the 'product' reared its ugly head,
my stubborn curls got their revenge. The wispy bits just refused to be
wispy. They curled straight back on to themselves and disappeared back into
my now very much smaller afro.
This means I have now gone from zero maintenance but subject to taste hair,
to high maintenance but subject to taste hair. Not a good move.
I'm determined that my hair will look good long. It just has to. I've lived
with short hair for way too long to have to deal with it again. So I'm back
to growing my hair. Luckily he didn't fully crop me so there is a fair bit
of length there, once pulled straight.
Note to self, trying to make yourself look cool doesn't work.
Take what you've got and roll with it.
Bikes.
I got my first air today. . . SIR!
Oh yes, the obligatory "Point Blank" esqe quote to kick things off. But I
did indeed, catch my first air today. While exploring the local woods I
found a bike trail fully set up with cambered corners, jumps and all. I
found a jump that had 'beginner' written all over it and got to work. My
progress was in three distinct phases.
ONE.
Rolling over the jump at speed and summing up more and more courage to go
faster each time and finally get a wheel off the floor.
TWO.
Getting the front wheel to travel a fair distance but not really feeling
like I was 'jumping'. More 'hitting the ramp at speed'.
THREE.
A real life jump. Landing on the rear wheel first (most of the time), and
feeling like a champion.
I've got to get good at this jumping lark, it just looks so groovy on the
telly.
I want a piece of that.
03 October 2004
How badly do I wanna get Beatified!!!
When did the Catholics start having all the fun eh??
While Gods messenger on earth sat slumped like a turnip in a barrow full of spuds, 'struggling for breath', he got to beatify some stiffs. Now in the side box it says that Beatification (how fully awesome is that word) requires that a miracle have occurred.
Yet I went to Italian-born (and mystic) nun Maria Ludovica De Angelis' write up on the Vatican website and it doesn't mention anything about a miracle. Which I, albeit being a mere unbeliever, assumed would be rather important. This seems to be the only thing the individual themselves have to do to be considered for Beatification.
And yet, nothing.
Now I'm not saying that she wasn't a top lass. But rules are rules, and
these are Gods rules.
Well they probably are, I don't know a lot about the Catholic faith, maybe there was a Saint who got the Beatification process explained to him one day over lamb.
So then I looked up French monk Joseph-Marie Cassant, lo and behold, his Vatican write up contains no mention of a miracle either. In fact, this guy basically did nothing other than be a nice guy. I quote "The sheer ordinariness of his life has been noted by some".
So now we get on to Frenchman Pierre Vigne who founded an order of nuns, again, no mention of a miracle. Sorry peeps. It does mention that his dad was an "honest textile merchant" which is good . . . but miraculous. . . I'm erring on the side of no.
The Pope it would seem, is just getting his own back at God. "The pope has now beatified some 1,340 people, more than all his predecessors combined, Reuters news agency says." I don't blame him. The poor guys a wreck. He probably thought that when he was ordained he would get it easy. After all, he is basically Gods squash partner. He's got about a gamillion people praying for him and he still needs somebody to wipe his mouth. God wont heal him, but he wont let him die either. The poor guy just keeps on getting rolled out every time the Vatican has something to say.
I'm all for the pope. He knew what he wanted to do and he went for it. But now he's just a frustrated old man, mumbling his way through speech after speech. Beatification is probably his little way of having fun. He can hardly do a bungee jump to raise money for a school, nor can he join in a sponsored Macarena.
You have to make fun for yourself wherever you can find it. So if the pope wants to keep on pushing the boundaries of Beatification, then I'm all for him.
He must have sat there going "ohhh, let me think, a guy that didn't do anything and a mystic!! Oh yeah, that's a good one!"
Then when this furore from this ceremony has settled down, a little grin will draw itself across his face as he laughs and thinks, "I've got it! A litigator and a modern artist! That should turn the Basilica into a hoot."
While Gods messenger on earth sat slumped like a turnip in a barrow full of spuds, 'struggling for breath', he got to beatify some stiffs. Now in the side box it says that Beatification (how fully awesome is that word) requires that a miracle have occurred.
Yet I went to Italian-born (and mystic) nun Maria Ludovica De Angelis' write up on the Vatican website and it doesn't mention anything about a miracle. Which I, albeit being a mere unbeliever, assumed would be rather important. This seems to be the only thing the individual themselves have to do to be considered for Beatification.
And yet, nothing.
Now I'm not saying that she wasn't a top lass. But rules are rules, and
these are Gods rules.
Well they probably are, I don't know a lot about the Catholic faith, maybe there was a Saint who got the Beatification process explained to him one day over lamb.
So then I looked up French monk Joseph-Marie Cassant, lo and behold, his Vatican write up contains no mention of a miracle either. In fact, this guy basically did nothing other than be a nice guy. I quote "The sheer ordinariness of his life has been noted by some".
So now we get on to Frenchman Pierre Vigne who founded an order of nuns, again, no mention of a miracle. Sorry peeps. It does mention that his dad was an "honest textile merchant" which is good . . . but miraculous. . . I'm erring on the side of no.
The Pope it would seem, is just getting his own back at God. "The pope has now beatified some 1,340 people, more than all his predecessors combined, Reuters news agency says." I don't blame him. The poor guys a wreck. He probably thought that when he was ordained he would get it easy. After all, he is basically Gods squash partner. He's got about a gamillion people praying for him and he still needs somebody to wipe his mouth. God wont heal him, but he wont let him die either. The poor guy just keeps on getting rolled out every time the Vatican has something to say.
I'm all for the pope. He knew what he wanted to do and he went for it. But now he's just a frustrated old man, mumbling his way through speech after speech. Beatification is probably his little way of having fun. He can hardly do a bungee jump to raise money for a school, nor can he join in a sponsored Macarena.
You have to make fun for yourself wherever you can find it. So if the pope wants to keep on pushing the boundaries of Beatification, then I'm all for him.
He must have sat there going "ohhh, let me think, a guy that didn't do anything and a mystic!! Oh yeah, that's a good one!"
Then when this furore from this ceremony has settled down, a little grin will draw itself across his face as he laughs and thinks, "I've got it! A litigator and a modern artist! That should turn the Basilica into a hoot."
Urban Freeriding. Council Style.
I have discovered a mecca. It was staring me in the face all the time. Every
time I drive home, I saw it, but never really appreciated what I was looking
at.
Behind my house, is an undiscovered wonderland of mountain biking track. It's
not a massive place, just one small hill. But it has all the essential
elements, mainly nice tight trails that weave and bob through woodland.
Added to the excitement are the felled trees that are often laid across the
track by the local deviants for no more reason than 'havin a laff'. The car
parts founds in strategic piles where the casual police officer would not
notice a wreck straight away. The nettles at shin level, the needle thin
branches teasing onto the path at eye level, the occasional large rock at
tyre level.
The place was surrounded by council estates, that is, until one of them was
pulled down. It is this strange mix of natural beauty and chav playground
that makes the routes so interesting. The splashes of colour under the
foliage are rarely flowers. More discarded Dyson vacuum cleaners, car brake
lights, or WKD bottles. Falling into the shrubbery is not advised.
It looks like the paths get a lot of use. There used to be a real problem
with trails bikes going up there and tearing the place up. I have to say,
hat off to them. Some of the drops are truly impressive and there are recent
signs of use. Who ever is riding up there has some serious skill.
Me, I'm going to stick to my trusty mountain bike and work up the guts to
attempt some of the crazily steep bits and jumps.
Oh yeah, I might try and stop talking about my bike as well
don't hold your breath.
30 September 2004
The king of all PS2 games.
Amplitude. I am addicted to this game. I neeeed to own a PS2 for the near
future so I cam complete it. It is way too addictive for words and even
though it contains "music" tracks from the Dance and Drum and Bass genres, I
still love it.
This game overrides your body. You get to a point where you no longer
consciously think about which button to press next, your brain just moves
your fingers for you. I felt like a silent observer as my brain did all the
hard work for me and I was left watching the score rack up.
Anyone can play this game, albeit not well. But that is the true test of a
game, it is easy to play, difficult to master. But hey, I want to try
anyway.
If you own a PS2 and you want a game for your next party. This is it.
The cleats finally arrived for my bike today. I have fitted them to my
trainers so tomorrow is testing day. I predict many falls, many scrapes and
a few bruises. I'm going to cycle around the park until I feel I have got
all the falls out of my system. Next week I'm off into the peaks with my
mountain biking buddy. Now I've got suspension I'm going to kick his ass on
the descent. Falling off is not an option.
As far as dints in the social calendar go, taking a dive would be a big one.
future so I cam complete it. It is way too addictive for words and even
though it contains "music" tracks from the Dance and Drum and Bass genres, I
still love it.
This game overrides your body. You get to a point where you no longer
consciously think about which button to press next, your brain just moves
your fingers for you. I felt like a silent observer as my brain did all the
hard work for me and I was left watching the score rack up.
Anyone can play this game, albeit not well. But that is the true test of a
game, it is easy to play, difficult to master. But hey, I want to try
anyway.
If you own a PS2 and you want a game for your next party. This is it.
The cleats finally arrived for my bike today. I have fitted them to my
trainers so tomorrow is testing day. I predict many falls, many scrapes and
a few bruises. I'm going to cycle around the park until I feel I have got
all the falls out of my system. Next week I'm off into the peaks with my
mountain biking buddy. Now I've got suspension I'm going to kick his ass on
the descent. Falling off is not an option.
As far as dints in the social calendar go, taking a dive would be a big one.
27 September 2004
Putting the "Crap", into "Crap Customer Service."
My dear Chris, if I had a sister, I would be introducing her to
you right about now.
While you celebrate your 'anniversary' of sorts, I have been screwed twice
this week already. However, where you are looking for an involved
relationship and maybe a little bit of pillow talk, I have simply had the
customer service departments of large established corporations taking turns
on my ass.
Then they didn't even call. Sniff sniff.
Example of ass banditry one: My
mobile phone isn't working properly so I called up my insurance to sort it
out.
Hi, my mobile isn't working so I want a new one. I'm on your gold insurance.
OK, have you got your phone wet, knocked it into anything or dropped it
recently.
No, it's just knackered.
I'm afraid unless you caused the damage there's nothing I can do for you.
But it's just bust, I pay insurance, cant you just give me a new one.
Sorry.
OK then. I dropped it. Can I have a new phone please.
Sorry sir I cant do that.
But the only way I can get a new one is to lie, at least I'm being. . . . . . CLICK
The phone goes dead. The bandits hung up on me. There is a sore feeling in
my loins.
Example of ass banditry two. The bike saga.
So my bike will defiantly come with cleats? (metal plates that let me attach my trainers to the pedals.)
Yes.
It will DEFINITELY come with them.
Yes, definitely.
Because I've got my trainers already and want to take it out as soon as I get it.
The bike will come with cleats.
Bike arrives, No cleats.
Hi, you assured me the bike you sent me would come with cleats and it didn't, can you send them me?
Yeah sure, I'll put them in with your gloves that have just arrived from the
suppliers. (that they assured me they had in when I ordered the bike.)
So they will go in the post today?
Yes.
And that will be next day delivery.
Yes.
So I'll get my gloves and cleats on Monday?
Yes, I'll put them in dispatch right now.
NEWS FLASH. They didn't fucking arrive.
I am SUCH a sucker some times. I should have realised that because I got
such a good deal, they would have to screw me over somewhere down the line.
They even had the audacity to call me up and moan at me because my card was
refused when they tried charging me £100 too much. (yes, I did spend
approximately 95% of my worldly money on this bike, only to be whole
heartedly rogered in the process)
So now tomorrow I have to call my phone company and lie to them, then I have
to call the bike shop and be lied to.
This world it would seem, likes to keep a balance.
you right about now.
While you celebrate your 'anniversary' of sorts, I have been screwed twice
this week already. However, where you are looking for an involved
relationship and maybe a little bit of pillow talk, I have simply had the
customer service departments of large established corporations taking turns
on my ass.
Then they didn't even call. Sniff sniff.
Example of ass banditry one: My
mobile phone isn't working properly so I called up my insurance to sort it
out.
Hi, my mobile isn't working so I want a new one. I'm on your gold insurance.
OK, have you got your phone wet, knocked it into anything or dropped it
recently.
No, it's just knackered.
I'm afraid unless you caused the damage there's nothing I can do for you.
But it's just bust, I pay insurance, cant you just give me a new one.
Sorry.
OK then. I dropped it. Can I have a new phone please.
Sorry sir I cant do that.
But the only way I can get a new one is to lie, at least I'm being. . . . . . CLICK
The phone goes dead. The bandits hung up on me. There is a sore feeling in
my loins.
Example of ass banditry two. The bike saga.
So my bike will defiantly come with cleats? (metal plates that let me attach my trainers to the pedals.)
Yes.
It will DEFINITELY come with them.
Yes, definitely.
Because I've got my trainers already and want to take it out as soon as I get it.
The bike will come with cleats.
Bike arrives, No cleats.
Hi, you assured me the bike you sent me would come with cleats and it didn't, can you send them me?
Yeah sure, I'll put them in with your gloves that have just arrived from the
suppliers. (that they assured me they had in when I ordered the bike.)
So they will go in the post today?
Yes.
And that will be next day delivery.
Yes.
So I'll get my gloves and cleats on Monday?
Yes, I'll put them in dispatch right now.
NEWS FLASH. They didn't fucking arrive.
I am SUCH a sucker some times. I should have realised that because I got
such a good deal, they would have to screw me over somewhere down the line.
They even had the audacity to call me up and moan at me because my card was
refused when they tried charging me £100 too much. (yes, I did spend
approximately 95% of my worldly money on this bike, only to be whole
heartedly rogered in the process)
So now tomorrow I have to call my phone company and lie to them, then I have
to call the bike shop and be lied to.
This world it would seem, likes to keep a balance.
26 September 2004
A Quantum Leap moment. . . . Oh Boy!
The seasons, much like athletes foot, come and go. There was once a time
when this blog was somewhere to start your day with interesting links to
parts of the web you would otherwise be unaware of. So in the same vein as
Dianas death, I thought I would drag it out of the back catalogue and
subject you to it all over again.
I can't think of a clever way to introduce this next link. I just deleted
what I had because it was neither clever, nor funny, nor interesting. Much
like Hollyoaks infact. So click here and see a master at work.
Black Metal. Gathering together all that is dark and mysterious about heavy
metal music, and then being the complete opposite. How people can still buy into the "I listen to black metal so therefore I am tortured and evil" is beyond me. Tortured and evil people listen to the static from a telly, the silence of a tomb, or the Cheeky Girls.
Some kids TV is just too damn cool to be for kids. Much like Shrek and Toy
Story, the best bits of kids TV are when it is blatantly aimed at adults.
Adults with a kids sense of humour. SMTV has nailed this at the moment with
the sketch they call "Butthaven". Get up early next Saturday and watch it.
How they get away with this week after week I will never know, but as long
as they do, I'll try and keep watching. However, when they just go waaaaay
off the scale, it just gets painfully painfully funny. The kids don't have a
clue, and I'm left laughing my ass off. If I had seen this episode of Dick
and Dom I would have probably peed myself. Keep up the good work lads.
when this blog was somewhere to start your day with interesting links to
parts of the web you would otherwise be unaware of. So in the same vein as
Dianas death, I thought I would drag it out of the back catalogue and
subject you to it all over again.
I can't think of a clever way to introduce this next link. I just deleted
what I had because it was neither clever, nor funny, nor interesting. Much
like Hollyoaks infact. So click here and see a master at work.
Black Metal. Gathering together all that is dark and mysterious about heavy
metal music, and then being the complete opposite. How people can still buy into the "I listen to black metal so therefore I am tortured and evil" is beyond me. Tortured and evil people listen to the static from a telly, the silence of a tomb, or the Cheeky Girls.
Some kids TV is just too damn cool to be for kids. Much like Shrek and Toy
Story, the best bits of kids TV are when it is blatantly aimed at adults.
Adults with a kids sense of humour. SMTV has nailed this at the moment with
the sketch they call "Butthaven". Get up early next Saturday and watch it.
How they get away with this week after week I will never know, but as long
as they do, I'll try and keep watching. However, when they just go waaaaay
off the scale, it just gets painfully painfully funny. The kids don't have a
clue, and I'm left laughing my ass off. If I had seen this episode of Dick
and Dom I would have probably peed myself. Keep up the good work lads.
24 September 2004
En Knee excuse! . . . . oh har har.
I went to see my doctor today about my knee. I wanted to know if getting
properly active again would be a stupid idea or not considering I have no
cartilage in my knee. In a nutshell he said go for it. I'm going to get
arthritis any way, and yes, doing active things will make it happen faster,
but I may as well enjoy getting to the stage where my knee hurts. He was
soooo cool. I've seen him since I was a tiny little kid and he rocks. It was
so nice to hear my doctor tell me to go out and enjoy myself. So that's
exactly what I'm going to do. Yes, I'll get a duff knee sooner than usual,
but like he said, it's going to happen at some point anyway so I may as well
look back and say "It was a right laugh getting here!"
Snowboarding lessons was that. Why ok then.
So this is sweet. I got into mountain biking as a kind of 'safe option' and
now I can go and join my mates when they do fun stuff that I would have
usually sat out of.
Arthritis, here I come!!!!
properly active again would be a stupid idea or not considering I have no
cartilage in my knee. In a nutshell he said go for it. I'm going to get
arthritis any way, and yes, doing active things will make it happen faster,
but I may as well enjoy getting to the stage where my knee hurts. He was
soooo cool. I've seen him since I was a tiny little kid and he rocks. It was
so nice to hear my doctor tell me to go out and enjoy myself. So that's
exactly what I'm going to do. Yes, I'll get a duff knee sooner than usual,
but like he said, it's going to happen at some point anyway so I may as well
look back and say "It was a right laugh getting here!"
Snowboarding lessons was that. Why ok then.
So this is sweet. I got into mountain biking as a kind of 'safe option' and
now I can go and join my mates when they do fun stuff that I would have
usually sat out of.
Arthritis, here I come!!!!
23 September 2004
Today I became a father.
The weight in my stomach has finally gone. The mood swings, the emotional
instability, the reduced physical activity. They have all ended. Today I
witnessed a delivery, which will change my life.
It was about half three when the anguish ended. I had been strolling the
corridor all morning; waiting, nervous, knowing that it couldn't be much
longer. I kept on gazing out the window and imaging how the new arrival
would affect my life. How much of my time would be taken up by it, how much
of my money? Then I heard it, gentle at first but soon growing louder. A
sound that is golden to the ears. A sound that brought me straight back to
my senses, this was it, I dried my hands on my jeans.
Five study knocks on the door. I answered, slightly nervously, not quite
knowing what to expect. There was a man standing there, he looked me
straight in the eye and said, "Got a package for you.", I felt my knees grow
weak.
And then there it was, wrapped up so carefully in cardboard and tape. I
hulked it into the lounge, carefully removing the cargo. I took each piece
out and laid them on the floor, the large pieces I propped up against
chairs. I was amazed at how some looked, the shape, the colour. Soon the box
was empty, it was time to get to work.
Tools in hand I began, tentatively at first for I had not done this before,
but soon with the vigour of a man whose dreams are in sight. Time passed,
how much I do not know, mistakes were made which had to be carefully undone,
progress was steady.
Then I had finished. My new bike was complete. All the waiting, haggling,
numerous telephone calls and problems were over. It was here. It is mine.
So now I'm just waiting for the first chance I get to take it out in the
country. I've had a spin around the local park to test the gears and brakes
but I need a real ride. A big one, with technical trails and long downhills.
Oh man, my new bike rocks.
instability, the reduced physical activity. They have all ended. Today I
witnessed a delivery, which will change my life.
It was about half three when the anguish ended. I had been strolling the
corridor all morning; waiting, nervous, knowing that it couldn't be much
longer. I kept on gazing out the window and imaging how the new arrival
would affect my life. How much of my time would be taken up by it, how much
of my money? Then I heard it, gentle at first but soon growing louder. A
sound that is golden to the ears. A sound that brought me straight back to
my senses, this was it, I dried my hands on my jeans.
Five study knocks on the door. I answered, slightly nervously, not quite
knowing what to expect. There was a man standing there, he looked me
straight in the eye and said, "Got a package for you.", I felt my knees grow
weak.
And then there it was, wrapped up so carefully in cardboard and tape. I
hulked it into the lounge, carefully removing the cargo. I took each piece
out and laid them on the floor, the large pieces I propped up against
chairs. I was amazed at how some looked, the shape, the colour. Soon the box
was empty, it was time to get to work.
Tools in hand I began, tentatively at first for I had not done this before,
but soon with the vigour of a man whose dreams are in sight. Time passed,
how much I do not know, mistakes were made which had to be carefully undone,
progress was steady.
Then I had finished. My new bike was complete. All the waiting, haggling,
numerous telephone calls and problems were over. It was here. It is mine.
So now I'm just waiting for the first chance I get to take it out in the
country. I've had a spin around the local park to test the gears and brakes
but I need a real ride. A big one, with technical trails and long downhills.
Oh man, my new bike rocks.
20 September 2004
They're back.
Students once again descend on my city. This means the pubs will once again
come alive to the sound of "chug chug chug", the kebab shops shall be rife
with the cry of "chilli sauce and salad" and every corner in all the inner
city will be swelling with the gutteral growl of after drinks vomiting. I
love it when the students come back. It moves the chavs on, they no longer
congregate in my favourite watering holes trying to out flip more beer
coasters than each other. They no longer walk into my pubs to only play on
the lone slot machine. They no longer have the power of majority.
Oh man, I miss being a student sooooo bad.
come alive to the sound of "chug chug chug", the kebab shops shall be rife
with the cry of "chilli sauce and salad" and every corner in all the inner
city will be swelling with the gutteral growl of after drinks vomiting. I
love it when the students come back. It moves the chavs on, they no longer
congregate in my favourite watering holes trying to out flip more beer
coasters than each other. They no longer walk into my pubs to only play on
the lone slot machine. They no longer have the power of majority.
Oh man, I miss being a student sooooo bad.
A problem I say.
It would seem that there are still people in the world using the inferior
web browser Internet Explorer. It would also seem that the home page of this
site doesn't work properly with this browser. I'm trying to fix the problem
but you could all help me. Instead of using a crappy crappy crappy browser
like Internet Explorer, why not go and download Firefox
and find out how the internet should be used. I only use Firefox
and so never noticed that the site didn't look right. I tried to work out
why but can't due to my complete lack of Web Design knowledge. So for the
sake of me not having to take a night out of my schedule to sort this out,
just download Firefox see this site properly and get a whole lot more
from the internet than you would normally.
web browser Internet Explorer. It would also seem that the home page of this
site doesn't work properly with this browser. I'm trying to fix the problem
but you could all help me. Instead of using a crappy crappy crappy browser
like Internet Explorer, why not go and download Firefox
and find out how the internet should be used. I only use Firefox
and so never noticed that the site didn't look right. I tried to work out
why but can't due to my complete lack of Web Design knowledge. So for the
sake of me not having to take a night out of my schedule to sort this out,
just download Firefox see this site properly and get a whole lot more
from the internet than you would normally.
16 September 2004
Gotta love Yorkshire.
Stood on top of one of the famous peaks today. Bike in hand. Rain closing in
behind, woefully underdressed for the weather, bleedin' knackered. With only
the downward sprint home, we quickly refreshed and set off.
Mental note to self. A helmet may stop me from killing myself, but landing
on a stony path at crazy per hour will make a real mess of the social
calendar.
All the more reason not to fall off then.
behind, woefully underdressed for the weather, bleedin' knackered. With only
the downward sprint home, we quickly refreshed and set off.
Mental note to self. A helmet may stop me from killing myself, but landing
on a stony path at crazy per hour will make a real mess of the social
calendar.
All the more reason not to fall off then.
15 September 2004
Tom
Welcome back home dude. Thank God - literally - that you're OK.
People, next time you're out in town and someone is collecting for charity.
Give them some money. You can afford it. If you think it's too much like
hard work to give money to good causes then think about the people that are
out there during today's messed up world putting their lives on the line to
try and help others.
They get little money and little recognition. Aid workers put themselves in
dangerous situations, not for any macho or materialistic reason, but for the
simple, almost forgotten trait, of selflessness.
They work in the most politically dangerous places on earth because if they
didn't, nobody would.
It's easy to not care about the third world because we're not in it. It isn't
easy to relate to famine when we are trying to fight obesity. It's hard to
image political persecution and a government that kills, starves and
withholds medical supplies from it's own people when western politics can
grind to a halt over the life and death question of a ministers sexuality.
But we have heard this before. The arguments have been laid out so many
times and through so many mediums that it becomes blasé. There is nothing
new to bring to the table, no new argument that will sway our judgement.
The human character is not stupid. We have the ability to weigh facts and
make decisions. The tragedy of all this is that the human character has
weighed the third world, and decided it doesn't care.
Thank God for those few that do.
People, next time you're out in town and someone is collecting for charity.
Give them some money. You can afford it. If you think it's too much like
hard work to give money to good causes then think about the people that are
out there during today's messed up world putting their lives on the line to
try and help others.
They get little money and little recognition. Aid workers put themselves in
dangerous situations, not for any macho or materialistic reason, but for the
simple, almost forgotten trait, of selflessness.
They work in the most politically dangerous places on earth because if they
didn't, nobody would.
It's easy to not care about the third world because we're not in it. It isn't
easy to relate to famine when we are trying to fight obesity. It's hard to
image political persecution and a government that kills, starves and
withholds medical supplies from it's own people when western politics can
grind to a halt over the life and death question of a ministers sexuality.
But we have heard this before. The arguments have been laid out so many
times and through so many mediums that it becomes blasé. There is nothing
new to bring to the table, no new argument that will sway our judgement.
The human character is not stupid. We have the ability to weigh facts and
make decisions. The tragedy of all this is that the human character has
weighed the third world, and decided it doesn't care.
Thank God for those few that do.
14 September 2004
The trouble with trains.
While on the train to Birmingham this weekend I had the sorry fortune to be
confronted with stupidity usually reserved for the most bizzare of Monty
Python sketches or a double bill of Trisha.
I was on one of the new Virgin trains, there were examples of the failed
eduacation system all around me. Between music tracks I could hear two of
the welfare snatching, child producing drains of society talking loudly
between themselves, and the whole carrige, as if to display just how far we
havn't come.
The woman (who shall now be refered to as 'she') was saying to the man (
'he' ) that the new doors were just soooo stupid.
"I mean, you have to press a button to open one door, and then another
button to get through the next door. It's like every door you get to you
have to press another button."
Too true my dear, too true. However, please if you will, cast your mind back
a few moments to the doors you had to overcome to get to the train station.
I think, and I'm going out on a limb here, but I THINK, that you might have
had to open all of those individually as well.
Yes, I would even go so far as to say that the buttons on these trains are
actually replacing what is commenly called a 'handle'. This is a mechanical
object which one physically engages with to push, or pull, the offending
door out of your way.
But then he says, "I know what you mean, it's not like they're building
space ships or anything!!"
Hold On.
1. Space Ships. Lets just take a moment here to check when we were born. I
think we stop calling them Space Ships when we reach our early teens and
realise that Captain Bucky O'Hare isn't actually the toad kicking hero we
always thought he was and that space travel is so boring in real life
compared to cartoons that we may as well just not bother.
2. I would like to see Mr "Why do I have so many children", build a stable
family environment, much less a train.
3. In what life, in which city, during how many alcohol related fantasys did
this couple actually believe that they had ever been in a situation during
which all the doors they wanted to get through opened automatically. Unless
these people live in a shopping centre, or simply don't have doors, then
thier whole conversation eludes me.
I can't belive that somehow when I get on a train I am considered a nusaince
because I want to listen to music, which nobody else can hear, and yet we
continue to allow thourghbred stump jockeys like these to air thier badly
conceived conversations for the whole carraige to hear. If I had my way (
and my weather changing device is near completion so not long now ) there
would be areas on trains where you were not allowed to talk. You could read,
or listen to music, but benign conversation would be punishable with
enforced depature at Coventry.
To end I would just like to say that it would have been less expensive for
me to drive to Birmingham and pay parking than it was to buy the train
ticket.
Go Go Gadget Government.
confronted with stupidity usually reserved for the most bizzare of Monty
Python sketches or a double bill of Trisha.
I was on one of the new Virgin trains, there were examples of the failed
eduacation system all around me. Between music tracks I could hear two of
the welfare snatching, child producing drains of society talking loudly
between themselves, and the whole carrige, as if to display just how far we
havn't come.
The woman (who shall now be refered to as 'she') was saying to the man (
'he' ) that the new doors were just soooo stupid.
"I mean, you have to press a button to open one door, and then another
button to get through the next door. It's like every door you get to you
have to press another button."
Too true my dear, too true. However, please if you will, cast your mind back
a few moments to the doors you had to overcome to get to the train station.
I think, and I'm going out on a limb here, but I THINK, that you might have
had to open all of those individually as well.
Yes, I would even go so far as to say that the buttons on these trains are
actually replacing what is commenly called a 'handle'. This is a mechanical
object which one physically engages with to push, or pull, the offending
door out of your way.
But then he says, "I know what you mean, it's not like they're building
space ships or anything!!"
Hold On.
1. Space Ships. Lets just take a moment here to check when we were born. I
think we stop calling them Space Ships when we reach our early teens and
realise that Captain Bucky O'Hare isn't actually the toad kicking hero we
always thought he was and that space travel is so boring in real life
compared to cartoons that we may as well just not bother.
2. I would like to see Mr "Why do I have so many children", build a stable
family environment, much less a train.
3. In what life, in which city, during how many alcohol related fantasys did
this couple actually believe that they had ever been in a situation during
which all the doors they wanted to get through opened automatically. Unless
these people live in a shopping centre, or simply don't have doors, then
thier whole conversation eludes me.
I can't belive that somehow when I get on a train I am considered a nusaince
because I want to listen to music, which nobody else can hear, and yet we
continue to allow thourghbred stump jockeys like these to air thier badly
conceived conversations for the whole carraige to hear. If I had my way (
and my weather changing device is near completion so not long now ) there
would be areas on trains where you were not allowed to talk. You could read,
or listen to music, but benign conversation would be punishable with
enforced depature at Coventry.
To end I would just like to say that it would have been less expensive for
me to drive to Birmingham and pay parking than it was to buy the train
ticket.
Go Go Gadget Government.
13 September 2004
Don't stare directly into the site!!!!
Yeah baby, that's right, it's back.
Well sooner or later I had to return. Here it is. It's not perfect, there
are things about it I would love to change but don't have the skill or time
to, it annoys some people, some love it, some see it as a source of
amusement, some of information, it may well change in the future, maybe only
subtly to iron out the rough edges, maybe an overhaul, maybe over time it
will grow on you and the rough edges wont even stand out any more, maybe no
matter how many times you are subjected to it, you will never grow to like
it.
As somewhere on the internet to exist , I can think of no better
representation of myself.
Updates, both for the blog and the articles, will be regular for the next
week as I have loads to say from my time away, and quite a few long bits
that I have already written and just need to sort out.
My faithful few.
Welcome back.
Well sooner or later I had to return. Here it is. It's not perfect, there
are things about it I would love to change but don't have the skill or time
to, it annoys some people, some love it, some see it as a source of
amusement, some of information, it may well change in the future, maybe only
subtly to iron out the rough edges, maybe an overhaul, maybe over time it
will grow on you and the rough edges wont even stand out any more, maybe no
matter how many times you are subjected to it, you will never grow to like
it.
As somewhere on the internet to exist , I can think of no better
representation of myself.
Updates, both for the blog and the articles, will be regular for the next
week as I have loads to say from my time away, and quite a few long bits
that I have already written and just need to sort out.
My faithful few.
Welcome back.
01 September 2004
We can but hope.
I was reading this article with wonder and a touch of hope. When search engines get this good it will make my online time so much more enjoyable. No longer will I spend hours over the important things in life such as "Why does my bike keep breaking?" and "When is Dave's birthday?".
This means I can spend more time thinking up completly implausible yet ingeniously tempting money making oppurtunities.
This means I can spend more time thinking up completly implausible yet ingeniously tempting money making oppurtunities.
30 August 2004
Softback vs Software.
I read a brilliant book called "I am legend" this weekend. It was brilliant, so brilliant in fact, that i'm going to spoil the end for you on the slim chance you go out and read it for yourself. Basically, all the way through the book - and it's only short so no worries there - you think that 'everything will turn out for the best' as is the way in these books. But this one goes, 'sack that' and just turns it all on it's head and the vampires end up 'winning'. Although 'winning' doesn't really fit what they do, 'survive' is more like it. Best of all though is that the main character dies at the end. Not in a crappy Amtrack Wars kind of way, but in a clever, well thought out way. A brilliant read, and it only takes one day.
Here's a thing. If I spend a week reading a book then I am considered somewhat intellectual. It is not considered time wasted. Yet, if I spend a week playing a computer game, this is somehow a puerile way to pass time and seen as a pointless venture. Yet computer games are more fun. You get to actually BE the guy in the story. You have a hand in how it works out in the end. Surely that is more intellectually stimulating than a book. You have to think about your actions and make descioins which have consequences for the future story. A book just takes you by the hand and you have to only read, not think.
Judging by this is could be argued that playing a computer game - and i'm thinking more RPG here than a space shoot em up - could be considered more intellectually demanding, and therefore stimulating, than a computer game.
Now I'm not knocking books here. I like to read. Just saying, the pompus view of computer games 'rotting minds' doesn't hold anymore. Embrace the future people. Play games.
Here's a thing. If I spend a week reading a book then I am considered somewhat intellectual. It is not considered time wasted. Yet, if I spend a week playing a computer game, this is somehow a puerile way to pass time and seen as a pointless venture. Yet computer games are more fun. You get to actually BE the guy in the story. You have a hand in how it works out in the end. Surely that is more intellectually stimulating than a book. You have to think about your actions and make descioins which have consequences for the future story. A book just takes you by the hand and you have to only read, not think.
Judging by this is could be argued that playing a computer game - and i'm thinking more RPG here than a space shoot em up - could be considered more intellectually demanding, and therefore stimulating, than a computer game.
Now I'm not knocking books here. I like to read. Just saying, the pompus view of computer games 'rotting minds' doesn't hold anymore. Embrace the future people. Play games.
25 August 2004
Monkey see, monkey stare.
I found this website today and it absorbed a good fifteen minutes of my time. I found myself just sat here, staring at the monkeys. I cant quite put my finger on what it is that intrigues me. I think it might be because they are ever so slightly surreal looking. I've never really looked at monkey up close before. I mean, I've seen them on the telly. But these ones have real recognisable expressions. You can also read the story of how they got to be infront of the camera from their faces.
So there I sat, taking in every detail of them. Imagining myself in the place of those monkeys and wondering what would make me feel like they look.
And on this new age romantic note, I bid thee goodnight.
So there I sat, taking in every detail of them. Imagining myself in the place of those monkeys and wondering what would make me feel like they look.
And on this new age romantic note, I bid thee goodnight.
24 August 2004
All the way back to zero.
So there I was. I had money. I was doing alright for myself. Sure, I was still working my way out of my overdraft, but that's what it's for. That's why they gave me one in the first place.
Foolish foolish Wardy to believe in such things as a 'free lunch'. I've been saving and working hard to sort my finances out. I had finally manged to get myself out of my overdraft. I was stood on my own financial feet. In debt to nobody ( less my student loan, but that doesn't count! ). So my bank thought they would ride the wave of my jubilation and then at the last minute, wipe me out like the nobody that I represent in the world financial markets.
Yes indeed, the second I broke out of my overdraft, they cancelled it.
hmmm, so, recap. . . . I DID have a nice little buffer that I could rely on while I go about earning more money. But no, I got £20 on the good side of zero, and they went " Thanks for the money back, Sucker!!! )
So now I'm skint. Skint like the kid who has only £20 to his name. Oh yeah, and I need to fill the car up with petrol before my dad gets back of holiday. Damn you and your development China!!!
All that skimping, saving and hard graft for the opportunity to have nothing.
I suppose on the bright side at least I don't owe them anything now.
Still, a grace period would have been nice.
I called them to try and sort it out, to give me a bit of a break until I'm fully financially stable. I'll have to see if the system works, if not it's going to be might embarassing tomorrow morning when I try setting up a direct debit with my gym!
In other happier news. I had an impromptu trip to another city to see a mate. Having a car rules. He called me about half nine and I thought it would be a cool idea to just jump in the car and go visit. I picked up another friend on the way and we arrived about ten past midnight, we drank whisky till the early years and caught up. Then the next day we drank coffee all day and drove home.
Bargain.
Foolish foolish Wardy to believe in such things as a 'free lunch'. I've been saving and working hard to sort my finances out. I had finally manged to get myself out of my overdraft. I was stood on my own financial feet. In debt to nobody ( less my student loan, but that doesn't count! ). So my bank thought they would ride the wave of my jubilation and then at the last minute, wipe me out like the nobody that I represent in the world financial markets.
Yes indeed, the second I broke out of my overdraft, they cancelled it.
hmmm, so, recap. . . . I DID have a nice little buffer that I could rely on while I go about earning more money. But no, I got £20 on the good side of zero, and they went " Thanks for the money back, Sucker!!! )
So now I'm skint. Skint like the kid who has only £20 to his name. Oh yeah, and I need to fill the car up with petrol before my dad gets back of holiday. Damn you and your development China!!!
All that skimping, saving and hard graft for the opportunity to have nothing.
I suppose on the bright side at least I don't owe them anything now.
Still, a grace period would have been nice.
I called them to try and sort it out, to give me a bit of a break until I'm fully financially stable. I'll have to see if the system works, if not it's going to be might embarassing tomorrow morning when I try setting up a direct debit with my gym!
In other happier news. I had an impromptu trip to another city to see a mate. Having a car rules. He called me about half nine and I thought it would be a cool idea to just jump in the car and go visit. I picked up another friend on the way and we arrived about ten past midnight, we drank whisky till the early years and caught up. Then the next day we drank coffee all day and drove home.
Bargain.
23 August 2004
this morning i dragged myself out of bed at Early'O'Clock and went up to my local gym. it's been a while since i've been there what with university and all but i was looking forward to getting back into the swing of things.
Now, there are a lot of changes going on at the gym. for a start, they are building a new one. a much bigger one. with new equipment and a sauna. ho ho ho, i think i know where i'm gonna be spending the majority of my spare time when it's finished. no more trekking into town to have to visit a sauna for me!
because of this work the gym has been moved into the sports hall. this is quite bizzare for starters because all the equipment has just been put on mats in the middle of a massive room. so there i was, rowing just left middle of a badmiton court, then i moved over to the weight slighlty off centre of a basket ball court. it used to be in two rooms. it was nice cause it felt cosy, like you were just working out in your living room or something. now it feels like you're doing it on public display.
however, while this change can be dealt with for promises of future greatness, there is one change that hasn't taken place, that really really needs to.
the music.
it is Still, Justin 'I dont know what cha talkin' bout' Timberlake. i have never listened to an album so much in my life. it seems like every time i go, they are playing that sodding thing. there i am, trying to psyche myself up, and i have nancy boy screeching at me incesantly, time and time again.
new plan, take mp3 player. load with thrashing guitars, lift weight.
Now, there are a lot of changes going on at the gym. for a start, they are building a new one. a much bigger one. with new equipment and a sauna. ho ho ho, i think i know where i'm gonna be spending the majority of my spare time when it's finished. no more trekking into town to have to visit a sauna for me!
because of this work the gym has been moved into the sports hall. this is quite bizzare for starters because all the equipment has just been put on mats in the middle of a massive room. so there i was, rowing just left middle of a badmiton court, then i moved over to the weight slighlty off centre of a basket ball court. it used to be in two rooms. it was nice cause it felt cosy, like you were just working out in your living room or something. now it feels like you're doing it on public display.
however, while this change can be dealt with for promises of future greatness, there is one change that hasn't taken place, that really really needs to.
the music.
it is Still, Justin 'I dont know what cha talkin' bout' Timberlake. i have never listened to an album so much in my life. it seems like every time i go, they are playing that sodding thing. there i am, trying to psyche myself up, and i have nancy boy screeching at me incesantly, time and time again.
new plan, take mp3 player. load with thrashing guitars, lift weight.
15 August 2004
I am sooooo dull sometimes.
I just wrote the most sodding boring piece about the problems my computer is giving me. Honestly people, I had to delete it.
So because all the hard work I just did came to nothing, go here instead and wander through the wonderful things.
So because all the hard work I just did came to nothing, go here instead and wander through the wonderful things.
14 August 2004
For the love of God!
If I see another advert made up of everyday noises put together to make 'music' I think I'm gonna eat my ears.
Sure, the first time I saw it I thought it was kinda cool. Do you know why I did, because the first time I saw it, it was Original. Did you hear that advertising people, it WAS original. Now you come off looking like a second place loser desperately trying to recreate something clever . . . . badly.
clunk, fizz, whirr whirr bang.
rattle rattle, crack pop, thunk thud click.
Well shit a brick, I'm in the mood for buying crap now.
But when I'm not leading myself to an early grave by getting far too involved in television adverts, I do go out and do stuff.
Example: This week I've been helping a friend landscape his garden, we have been out in the pouring rain, diggin' and stuff. On the third day we found a bees nest under where his ladders had been laying for the past couple of months. So being the caring people that we are, we carefully moved the ladders out the way, made sure any of the rocks were not too near the nest and made a bit of a clearing around it.
Then we got some fire-lighters, his wifes nail polish remover, and had ourselves an eviction party!
Gotta love the fun that summer provides.
Sure, the first time I saw it I thought it was kinda cool. Do you know why I did, because the first time I saw it, it was Original. Did you hear that advertising people, it WAS original. Now you come off looking like a second place loser desperately trying to recreate something clever . . . . badly.
clunk, fizz, whirr whirr bang.
rattle rattle, crack pop, thunk thud click.
Well shit a brick, I'm in the mood for buying crap now.
But when I'm not leading myself to an early grave by getting far too involved in television adverts, I do go out and do stuff.
Example: This week I've been helping a friend landscape his garden, we have been out in the pouring rain, diggin' and stuff. On the third day we found a bees nest under where his ladders had been laying for the past couple of months. So being the caring people that we are, we carefully moved the ladders out the way, made sure any of the rocks were not too near the nest and made a bit of a clearing around it.
Then we got some fire-lighters, his wifes nail polish remover, and had ourselves an eviction party!
Gotta love the fun that summer provides.
10 August 2004
Beware, Life ahead.
yesterday night was a scary time for me. not only could I not find the option in my word processing software to automatically put capital letters at the beginning of sentences, I also wondered what I would do if I was lying in bed and someone tried to kidnap me, or shoot me, or what the consequences of a terrorist bio-chemical attack on my bedroom would be.
while this kept me awake for a little while I soon found sleep as I remembered that only earlier that day I had installed a Quantum Sleeper. Now when I go to bed, the only thing I have to worry about is whether or not I'll get a reply from the girl I met through Guns-n-Babes.
while this kept me awake for a little while I soon found sleep as I remembered that only earlier that day I had installed a Quantum Sleeper. Now when I go to bed, the only thing I have to worry about is whether or not I'll get a reply from the girl I met through Guns-n-Babes.
08 August 2004
All I can say is sorry.
sometimes, words are all we have. Yes, they may seem contrived. they may seem worthless, cliched, and ultimately wasted.
However, in this instance, and through this medium, words are all I have.
I never meant to disappointment. all I ever tried to do was make people smile. yes, I know I take the piss sometimes but I never do it to hurt, I never do it to be mean.
if I thought anything I had written on these pages would lead people to think of me in a bad way then I feel the purpose of this site has been wasted.
I started this site mainly so I didn't have to keep on writing e-mails. but it grew from that, I realised there were people out there who were reading it to be entertained also. when I realised this, my writing changed. I sometimes wrote simply to entertain, to bring smiles, to make people happy.
I now admit that in trying to do this, I have brought some readers undue misery.
so these are my apologies.
the first is to the guy looking for French Porn. I am sorry that I did not provide you with tasty Parisians partaking in acts unfit for description. it was never my intention to not provide French Porn on this site, I just don't have the bandwidth.
the second, and more sincere apology goes to the person searching for Mick Hucknall August 2004. I am sorry that I did not provide you with Mick Hucknall partaking in acts unfit for description. it was never my intention to not provide Simply Red mp3's on this site, I just don't have the bandwidth.
For the disappointment that Wardy so often brings, all I can say is sorry.
However, in this instance, and through this medium, words are all I have.
I never meant to disappointment. all I ever tried to do was make people smile. yes, I know I take the piss sometimes but I never do it to hurt, I never do it to be mean.
if I thought anything I had written on these pages would lead people to think of me in a bad way then I feel the purpose of this site has been wasted.
I started this site mainly so I didn't have to keep on writing e-mails. but it grew from that, I realised there were people out there who were reading it to be entertained also. when I realised this, my writing changed. I sometimes wrote simply to entertain, to bring smiles, to make people happy.
I now admit that in trying to do this, I have brought some readers undue misery.
so these are my apologies.
the first is to the guy looking for French Porn. I am sorry that I did not provide you with tasty Parisians partaking in acts unfit for description. it was never my intention to not provide French Porn on this site, I just don't have the bandwidth.
the second, and more sincere apology goes to the person searching for Mick Hucknall August 2004. I am sorry that I did not provide you with Mick Hucknall partaking in acts unfit for description. it was never my intention to not provide Simply Red mp3's on this site, I just don't have the bandwidth.
For the disappointment that Wardy so often brings, all I can say is sorry.
05 August 2004
Are you claustrophobic or just sad?
if there was ever an emergency i would not want to be in it with Shell.
There has been so much i have wanted to write about while my computer was poorly. There was the whole “Manhunt” hysteria, there was the Kerry speech, I almost won the lottery and I found all my old A-Level notes which made me laugh no end.
unfortunately, I'm not going to write about all that now as it would take up way too much room and just be out of date.
so today i bring you. . . the beauty of having friends who are nothing like you.
while visiting a friend in another city he convinced me to let him straighten my hair. although i have always wanted straight hair, i would never go out and purposely straighten it, so this was the perfect opportunity.
he set to work, twenty minutes passed, and i emerged looking like a new man.
now people, sometimes i wear a shirt and think “you know what, i look alright in shirts, why have i never done this before” so i start buying more shirts and seeing if i can get comfortable in them. well when i looked at myself in the mirror, i knew i had to have my hair straightened again in the future.
i have never had straight hair in all my life and i don't know if it was the shock of looking so different or if i really did just have it goin' on. but i thought i looked the absolutely knackers.
i walked around the city that day with the gait of a man who oozed self confidence. it was great. i went from Screech from Saved By The Bell 'geeky cool', to straight down the aisle, fur covered, full steam ahead, kick my face good old fashioned slap my jack cool.
if a change is as good as a break, then I'll keep my curls, but get me a pair of straighteners once in a while!
There has been so much i have wanted to write about while my computer was poorly. There was the whole “Manhunt” hysteria, there was the Kerry speech, I almost won the lottery and I found all my old A-Level notes which made me laugh no end.
unfortunately, I'm not going to write about all that now as it would take up way too much room and just be out of date.
so today i bring you. . . the beauty of having friends who are nothing like you.
while visiting a friend in another city he convinced me to let him straighten my hair. although i have always wanted straight hair, i would never go out and purposely straighten it, so this was the perfect opportunity.
he set to work, twenty minutes passed, and i emerged looking like a new man.
now people, sometimes i wear a shirt and think “you know what, i look alright in shirts, why have i never done this before” so i start buying more shirts and seeing if i can get comfortable in them. well when i looked at myself in the mirror, i knew i had to have my hair straightened again in the future.
i have never had straight hair in all my life and i don't know if it was the shock of looking so different or if i really did just have it goin' on. but i thought i looked the absolutely knackers.
i walked around the city that day with the gait of a man who oozed self confidence. it was great. i went from Screech from Saved By The Bell 'geeky cool', to straight down the aisle, fur covered, full steam ahead, kick my face good old fashioned slap my jack cool.
if a change is as good as a break, then I'll keep my curls, but get me a pair of straighteners once in a while!
04 August 2004
25 July 2004
Fridays at the Corporation.
Is not Indian Punk night.
It’s Indie AND Punk.
Indie’n’Punk.
* Mental note; when talking to those less common than ones self, enunciate *
Up the Irons!
Not being a great football fan I can think of nothing better than getting paid to go and watch football (insert sarcasm as required). I have stated on many occasions that I would have to be paid to go to a ‘footy match’ and my wish may well come true. Due to my strange compulsion to get myself into situations that I can barely handle, I’m going for a stewards job. This means I will have to try and control the drunk leering crowd of townies who’s only wish is to throw coins and bottles and the opposition ‘scum’! Joy.
As stated before, I don’t look particularly scary or even moderately ‘ard. This means the interview process should be a laugh a minute as I square up against 16 and 17 stone bearded men with a penchant for violence.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
20 July 2004
Why pubs are not utopic.
The problem is, not only do I not remember signing up for this service, I have also never been to these pubs. So I thought that someone had been ‘comically’ using my pseudonym and was planning some kind of elaborate stitch up. I therefore tried to log into Pubutopia by using the ‘wardyfireball’ username and my generic password. Lo and Behold, it was me. I signed up for the site sometime in 2003, late at night, probably drunk. It would seem I then went on to click on random pubs in
Now I don’t know why I did this. Maybe I had been at a ‘Utopic’ pub and it seemed like a great idea. But from that day in May 2003 to today, my knowledge of this event was nil.
I put about 20 pubs in my favourites, I have been to one of them.
Must be more careful around my computer in the future. You never know what I could end up registering with!
16 July 2004
The essay that saved my ass.
<>Here it is, in its entirity. This is 5000 words long so don't be expecting a quick read. In a nutshell, Security Council Resolution 1502 says that attacking Aid Workers is a War Crime.
Put the kettle on, get a cup of tea, sit down and read.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present you with the essay that saved my ass . . . . .
Put the kettle on, get a cup of tea, sit down and read.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present you with the essay that saved my ass . . . . .
The Value of Security Council Resolution 1502.
1 - Introduction.
During my year out I became increasingly interested in the field of security, with particular emphasis on Personal Security. When researching this paper it was originally going to focus on the personal security procedures undertaken by NGO’s to improve the security of their staff. However, after reading numerous newspaper articles on aid staff being targeted by car bombs and the militia, it became apparent that the kind of personal security which may stop a worker wandering into a mine field or being mugged in the street, was very different to the security required to stop numbers of workers being killed by organised groups who were specifically targeting humanitarian workers during times of conflict. This led me to focus more on the governmental side of protecting aid workers. What underlying laws and agreements are there to protect the people who voluntarily work in the most dangerous parts of the world?
With more wars then ever being fought around the world, aid agencies are finding that they are putting their staff into increasingly dangerous situations. Where once aid agencies enjoyed a form of protection in conflict due to the nature of their job, this is not as apparent in today’s warfare. Organisations are often finding themselves singled out for attack. In
This report shall look at the changing face of warfare and try to answer why more aid workers are being killed. It shall then look at what safeguards are in place to protect aid workers at a governmental level, as well as go into further detail into Security Council Resolution 1502.
Questions this paper should answer are:
1 – Why are more aid workers being attacked?
2 – What instruments are currently in place to protect them?
3 – What practical differences will Resolution 1502 make?
2 - Methodology.
This report shall use the internet as the main form of research as events that shall be discussed happened recently. Newspaper archives, as well as the texts of the Geneva Conventions and the International Criminal Court Statute are readily available on the internet and in their most recent form. Using these texts in their electronic form also allows for ease of searching for relevant laws. Thus meaning that with little previous knowledge of these texts it is relatively easy to find the parts which are of interest.
While there are many newspaper and aid agency reports, there is little peer reviewed published material on incidents which happened only months ago. This led to a dependency on articles that were published by agencies on their websites. Although this will consist mostly of ‘grey’ material, the internet is increasingly being used by Aid Agencies to release information about their work. This means that instead of having to wait for a yearly report, the information is available only days after an incident has occurred.
Although the internet is not the ideal medium for research, the ability to quickly cross reference material means that, by the sheer number of pages that report the same thing, the data lends some validity to itself. This report shall also use first hand accounts of aid work taken from the personal letters of workers written while they were in the field. These have been taken from the book Another Day In Paradise (Bergman, 2003) and allow for a personal opinion of aid work from people with years of experience, which I would have been otherwise unable to procure.
The results of this study would vary if repeated. This paper shows the initial reaction to a new Resolution that did not deliver what many were hoping for. Over time, the Resolution may be amended to help remove the ambiguity in its wording and aid agencies may find other ways to make it work for them in the eyes of the law, which they have not yet discovered.
If this study was repeated in a year the author believes one of two things may change, either the Resolution will have been almost forgotten about, and so be resigned to just another piece of legislation, or it will be refined over time and become a useful tool for aid workers while not depriving them of any of the liberties they wish to keep.
3 - Current Situation.
During the bombing of
While this was good for the
In a letter to national security advisor Condoleezza Rice, the heads of 16 organisations asked that the practice of allowing military aid workers in
A French worker was killed in
Humanitarian workers are becoming a target for the simple reason that they provide aid. The Fourth Geneva Convention (1949) states that the occupying power should provide all items indispensable for the survival of the civilian population (MacLeod, 2003).
The feeding of a population is outside of the normal operating boundaries of the military, they rely on CiMiC (Civil Military Cooperation) to fulfil this role. When anti
For forces looking to attack the ‘west’ then organisations like the Red Cross and Oxfam are recognisable targets. By virtue of their own success they become vulnerable (MacLeod, 2003).
This reinforces the danger of military personnel being involved in humanitarian work. Soldiers take sides, that is the very essence of their job. If they are shooting at a city one day and handing out food packages to the population the next, then it is unsurprising that the dividing line between friend and foe is blurred. This means that while aid workers are neutral in a conflict, they could be perceived as a member of the military in civilian clothing and therefore be targeted.
While this leads to an increase in violence against aid workers, it is to stop this violence being directed towards themselves that the military do not wear uniforms. In an interview to the Washington Post, Brigadier General David Kratzer, commander of the Coalition Joint Civil Military Operation Task Force in
Many conflicts since the 1990’s have not been cross boundary disputes, but civil unrest. As the civilian population are often the targets for attacks, to relieve their suffering could be perceived as taking sides. The resources that agencies transfer to the civilians are important to the warring parties and they therefore gain strategic significance (AGDNGO, 2003).
Workers in these conditions may be the target of attack due to their proximity to valuable resources such as aid supplies, and also because their efforts to assist civilians could be seen as prolonging the conflict, and therefore aiding the enemy (Helton, 1997).
While aid workers are now working very closely with the military during times of conflict, there is no greater protection under international law for non-combatants than for combatants (Fleck et al, 1999).
This situation is made worse as there are an increasing number of actors who do not recognise international humanitarian law and do not observe the internationally agreed rules on the treatment of civilians during a conflict. There is a field of thought that says soldiers in conflicts today have more chance of survival than civilians do (cited from Slim, 1996. (AGDNGO, 2003).
Those responsible for the killing of aid workers are very rarely brought to account for their actions. The UN reports that only 7% of perpetrators ever face a form of justice (cited from UN 2002. AGDNGO, 2003). This may also be because NGO’s are working in more ‘failed states’. This would mean any accountability which may have existed for the people that undertake crime are effectively dissolved (AGDNGO, 2003).
The number of civil unrest incidents has been rising and therefore so have the number of aid missions. The UN is now carrying out a large number of peace missions, which are almost always accompanied by humanitarian aid (AGDNGO, 2003). So even if the number of NGO casualties has not seen an increase per mission, due to the higher number of missions, the final number of deaths will be higher than normal.
4 - Why are NGO’s subjecting themselves to risk?
Competition among aid agencies is forcing them to put marketing needs above those of security. They are also more willing to work in an area that puts their staff at considerable risk (AGDNGO, 2003). Aid agencies only survive through funding, this means they have to constantly be impressing donors. To be the first into a disaster area; to be closest to the needy; to be seen to be acting in the most dangerous conditions; these are all qualities that aid agencies strive for. If they are seen on television then they will raise more money, their profile will be increased, and donor agencies will be more easily impressed. This has forced agencies to push the boundaries of what they deem acceptable working conditions.
The type of people that are attracted to aid work are also the type that would revel a certain degree of danger and unpredictability in their job. As the situations get ever more unstable, then the more adventurous and danger seeking volunteers and staff rise to the top. This means that the situation fuels itself and as each new boundary is broken, there will be a willing line ready to push the next.
The dilemma for aid agencies is that while there are people who are willing to work in these conditions, should they provide the resources for them to do so. To withhold resources would mean that people suffer needlessly, to grant them means putting staff members in danger.
Although security measures are undoubtedly put in place by aid agencies, there is a fine balance that has to be met when applying them. Dworken in his paper on threat assessments outlines the major factors in determining which security strategies to adopt. Keeping Effectiveness and Efficiency harmonised is a major obstacle that has to be overcome. Effectiveness is how appropriate a measure is with regards to increasing security; Efficiency is how little these measures cost in resources, time and effort (Dworken, 2004).
Humanitarian work has become more dangerous over the years, this is fuelled by increased competition, staff members that are more willing to accept risks and a media that thirsts for human acts of bravery and selflessness. The question, is how to make it safer.
5 - What protection do aid workers already have?
The International Criminal Court (ICC) identifies that a war crime can be “intentionally directing attacks against personnel, installations, material, units or vehicles involved in a humanitarian assistance or peacekeeping mission in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, as long as they are entitled to the protection given to civilians or civilian objects under the international law of armed conflict.” (ICC, Article 8. 1998).
Civilians are protected under the law of war from the Fourth Geneva Convention, Article 4 (1949). It states that they are protected from the outset of any international armed conflict or occupation until one year after the general close of military operations, if “in any manner whatsoever” they find themselves in the hands of a party to the conflict or occupying power.
The Geneva Convention prohibits subjecting non-combatants to murder, torture, hostage taking, or execution without a trial, and specifies that the sick and wounded must be cared for (Helton, 1997). If the resolution is meant to stop these things from happening then attention needs to be focused on why these acts are happening when law already forbids them.
For international conflicts Protocol 1 goes farther and specifies the right of humanitarian agencies to initiate and carry out assistance to the sick and wounded without interference (Helton, 1997).
In non-international conflicts the legal protections are noticeable weaker. The conventions do not largely address civil war. The Geneva Convention does not define “non-international armed conflict” and only address the subject when laying out the rules for non-combatants. Humanitarian workers are offered a “right of initiative” to work during internal conflict, however, while the provision may place pressure on states to accept the assistance, humanitarian groups must still seek consent before undertaking any work.
This leads to agencies following their own rules and deciding that the “right to intervene” is strong enough that they will do so regardless (Helton, 1997). This is another example of aid agencies pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable. This also raises a more serious point, if agencies are going to break international law in order to do their work, it makes their case weaker when it is broken back. What are the moral and legal grounds for an organisation who are operating without authorisation in a country, and are subsequently attacked?
The United Nations General Assembly in resolution 46/182 state that “. . . humanitarian assistance should be provided with the consent of the affected country and in principle on the basis of an appeal by the affected country.” This means that the ‘consent’ can come from the country itself and not necessarily from the Government. Should humanitarian activities be carried out in areas without governmental consent then even though there may be solid humanitarian grounds for intervention, this may still be illegal under International Humanitarian Law (Cutts and Dingle, 1995). This could lead to the situation whereby if a humanitarian worker is killed, and therefore a ‘war crime’ has been committed, should the case make it to the courts the government may not recognise that they were an aid worker as they were not invited into the country, and may have broken laws themselves by being there.
The August 19th attack on the UN Assistance Mission Headquarters in
While aid workers have been putting themselves at what would now seem ‘undue’ danger for years, it takes an attack on the members of the UN who are not field workers, before any real advancement in security procedures are made.
Mexican Ambassador Adolfo Aguilar Zinser said that the Security Council members “owe it to (aid workers) to give support and create better conditions of security, particularly since the events of Baghdad, and to shoulder a clear responsibility to show we appreciate them and stand side-by-side with them.” He went onto say that the resolution provides “the capacity to take action. It specifies when and how the secretary general has to raise the issue of protection of humanitarian workers so the Security Council takes action.” (Aita, 2003).
However, this is not always the case. The American society of International Law (Kirgis, 2003) explains this. Take, for example, the bombing of the UN Assistance Mission Headquarters on
The resolution could have been stronger were it not for a statement which the
“After the tragic killing of aid workers in
(Dicker, 2003)
6 - Problems with 1502.
The types of people that make bombs and then detonate them in densely populated areas, specifically targeting westerners, are not going to be deterred by a new resolution, and could even be spurred on by the notoriety they could receive by calling themselves “war criminals” (Cater, 2003). This could have the unwanted effect of increasing the risk of aid workers being attacked. There have been a recent number of kidnappings and aid workers used as bargaining tools. The resolution would make the kidnap of an aid worker as appealing as that of a soldier, while the risk involved is considerably smaller.
By the very nature of their work, humanitarian staff do not want any special standing. They want to be with the people, at their side, going through the same hardships. By granting aid workers this special, protected status, they lose one of the attributes which makes them feel like they are making a difference. By making the killing of a worker, a war crime, and then subconsciously drawing a line between them and military personnel, these workers lose some of their neutral stance.
John Sifton shows how the average humanitarian worker does not wish to be connected to the military in the book, Another Day In Paradise;
“No one responds directly to the officers welcome. Most of us on the plane are humanitarian aid workers, diplomats, or human rights advocates, some new to Afghanistan, others not, but we are not inclined to be cheery with these military officers, no matter their nationality or how gregarious they are. It reflects a humanitarian elitism of some sort; most aid workers are from a different world than military folk. We have different aesthetics, ethics, and educations. It’s just the way it is. The pilots do strike up a conversation with the officers eventually, but most of us walk past them to get our bags, glum and aloof.”
Offenders of international humanitarian law should be punished. Unfortunately, many states are unable, or un-willing to enforce these obligations. Internal conflict may mean a state lacks the resources to bring the criminals to justice. States may also be unwilling to extradite criminals if they feel that the state which will receive them lacks the due process to try them fairly, or even out of fear of political manipulation. This means that many humanitarian workers are left effectively unprotected by the Geneva Convention due to individual states and the international community as a whole lacking the political will to enforce it (Helton, 1997).
There are more specific problems with the resolution, mostly regarding whom is covered in the wording. For example how would you identify that an individual specifically targeted humanitarian workers. Maybe they were just going to attack the next car, or mug the next lone commuter. Although still obviously a crime, the perpetrator could be promoted from opportunist thief, to war criminal.
If a bomb was detonated in a public area, would only the foreign staff that were killed count towards the “war criminal” casualties, or would national staff be included as well? If they were doing the same job at the same time then instantly one of their lives is perceived as being more important than another (Cater, 2003). Should this perception of ‘grandeur’ become the norm in an area, then workers will find it harder to gain community cooperation. There can be large discrepancies between how an organisation perceives itself within the community and how the community perceives the organisation (AGDNGO, 2003).
All of the points raised above eventually come back to organisations losing their independent status. They are meant to be outside of conflicts, politics and governments. They are Non Governmental Organisations. They do not want special standing or special protection. The irony is that they want exactly the opposite, they want nothing at all. Complete impartiality and the ability to do their work, in any country, at any time, regardless of circumstance.
It is as MacKay Wolff says when writing in 2002 about his work in
“. . . the form of coexistence that developed among the three sides – Israelis, Palestinians, and UN – during the first intifada would not be possible under the second one. In fact, it is inconceivable that any international humanitarian force could serve the same function again under the present circumstances. I believe this not only because both sides are more violent, but because the neutral space that the United Nations occupied – the space that supported its role as impartial observer and relief agency – has vanished.”
(Bergman, 2003)
Would the resolution apply only to UN employees, or only NGO employees, or only NGO’s working within the United Nations, would it be full time staff only, or include those hired on a casual basis, would day workers fall under the jurisdiction? What about volunteers who are in a country on their own, if they are undertaking humanitarian work, are they then protected by the resolution (Cater, 2003)?
For example, during the rebuilding of
This double standard of life may also cause internal problems within an organisation. Van Brabant (2000) warns against the dangers of real or perceived divisions among staff. If the local workers feel that their lives are not worth as much in the eyes of the law then at the very least they may be unwilling to work and could even turn against the organisation if they feel they are ‘second class’.
Humanitarian workers want to feel like they are one of the people. They do not want to stand out and be looked upon as more than the people that are trying to help. However, this is exactly what this resolution would do. It would make an aid workers life, somehow more valuable, and their death more tragic than people caught up in the same situation, maybe even killed in the same attack (Cater, 2003).
Aid workers must share the apprehensions and tensions of the people they are helping, they cannot be seen to be standing on a golden platter, if there want to be accepted by a community, they have to be seen as living as one with the community. Socialising is an integral part of applying the acceptance strategy as described by Van Brabant (2000). If the organisation is now at higher risk, they may have to reduce the number of social visits. Not only will this strain relationships in the community and reduce the amount of cooperation and feedback that community leaders have, it is also a step closer towards the protection strategy. Through reducing their exposure to a risk the organisation will be protecting its staff, but also moving further away from being a part of the community they are trying to help.
If aid workers did receive this kind of privileged position then governments may become more unwilling to let them enter the country for fear that if they are killed it will become a high profile international affair. This could mean that while the resolution is acting to try and protect aid workers, they are now unable to gain permission to enter countries because of the serious repercussion should anything happen to them.
Bjarte Vandvik, director of the International Department of the Norwegian Refugee Council welcomed the resolution but was concerned about the mechanisms for enforcing it. He said that “We think it deplorable that the Security Council missed the opportunity to use a concrete international tribunal which could have been strengthened by such a resolution.” He went on, “As such, there is nothing new in this.” (Staveland, 2003).
The Resolution had been discussed for a number of months with particular emphasis on the passage regarding war crimes. Then after the bomb attack, the latest draught of the resolution was put to vote (CARE,
7 - Conclusion.
The questions that this paper set out to answer were:
1 – Why are more aid workers being attacked?
2 – What instruments are currently in place to protect them?
3 – What practical differences will Resolution 1502 make?
Answers to these questions can now be given.
1 - Why are more aid workers being attacked?
Aid workers are no longer perceived as neutral parties to a conflict. Where once all factions revered them, they are now viewed as a target. Wars are changing and civilians are increasingly being used by the military to cause devastation to a country. Leaders use the suffering of populations as international trading chips. As NGO’s move into a country and try to halt this suffering, they are in direct opposition to what the militia is trying to achieve, and therefore become a military target.
The role of the NGO has not changed to cause them these problems, the role of the soldier has. It is now not enough for some leaders to make their army attack another, but also to cause as much general devastation as possible.
2 - What instruments are currently in place to protect them?
There are a number of instruments in place to protect aid workers. From the Geneva Conventions to the International Criminal Court there have been strict guidelines laid out as to how humanitarian workers should be treated. However, these guidelines are increasingly being ignored. This is only to be expected in a war, that people will not always play by the rules. What is not to be expected is that these people are not help accountable for their actions by the international community.
If such deeds were dealt with both swiftly and harshly by the international community, their occurrence would decrease. It is because the perpetrators feel that they than undertake these acts without reprisal, that they continue to commit them.
3 - What practical differences will Resolution 1502 make?
Drawing on many of the previous points. If the new resolution is to have any meaningful effect then the international community must enforce what it has so publicly agreed on. The resolution itself remains useless unless enforced. It is no good to be outraged and pass a resolution and then believe that all will take note. The bombing of the UN Headquarters, which spurred this resolution, is not a ‘one off’. It will happen again, but it will happen again because once the moral outrage has died down, there is no real impetus to follow the law through and show a solid, united front to deter these acts.
The resolution also suffers from lack of definition. The workers that will be covered, and therefore those that will not, is somewhat vague. This could lead to resentment within organisations and a culture of ‘double standards’. This brings us to the final and most prominent failing with the resolution. It grants aid workers exactly what they do not want. Aid workers do not want to be special under the eyes of the law, this is not why they work in these conditions. They expect to be protected, and they would if the law written before the resolution was upheld properly, but they do not want to appear any different in the eyes of the law than the people they are helping. The resolution removes the essence of aid work, selflessly helping others, by granting a kind of special status.
The days of chivalry in war are long gone. It is inconceivable that soldiers would ever again stop at Christmas to play football, nor that medics are lent safety by battlefield etiquette. While this new resolution tries to make the battlefield a safer place for those not involved in the conflict, it is flawed by the reputation that precedes it. To truly deter those who would commit acts during times of conflict, it is no good to make new laws, the laws which already exist must be enforced.
The greatest irony of all is that humanitarian workers do not feel they should need laws to be protected, and yet the Security Council do. It is as Benjamin Disreali said, “When men are pure, laws are useless; when men are corrupt, laws are broken.” (1804 – 1881)
8 - References.
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9 - Bibliography.
CARE International
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