Enjoy! More later ;)
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Thursday, 19 February 2009
By all means, please, read my last entry, but take note fair interwebber, that there is no longer nothing to talk about. I am of course referring to this!
It seems that a certain female monkey, sorry girl, from somewhere called Barry Isle, has lightly toasted herself in a tanning salon. This apparently constitutes news.
Shocking, I'm sure.
She makes some extremely well educated points regarding how stupid she is, including that she was well aware that the salon was for over 16s only (she's 14), but pointed out that:
"Teenagers are going to push the boundaries. They are going to do things they should not do."
I offer this in return (fully aware that I myself, am a teenager):
"Teenagers are going to push the boundaries. They are going to do things they should not do, and if anything bad happens as a result they bloody well deserve it".
The human race doesn't survive on the principle of "survival of the stupidest, because the cleverer ones look after them". If you're too much of a fool to use a tanning bed, under age, for FAR too long, then you can suffer for it. Who'd have guessed that a bloody sunbed could give you sunburn? I suppose she'll soon find out the hard way that drinking too much alcohol can kill you (before suing the alcohol companies for not physically taking the drink off her).
This situation seems to me to be akin to an asthmatic sneaking past warning signs and barging into an asbestos storage room, then moaning when their lungs start bubbling out their mouth as a pinky-red foam.
Put it another way, wouldn't a similar news report look like this:
Girl Breaks Leg Falling Off Cliff
A girl of 14 was hospitalised today with a severe fracture to her leg, after falling more than 30 ft from a cliff near Lyme Regis.
Annie Spoonacre was out for a walk with her friends when they decided to make their way to the cliff edge. Annie fell from the precipice after she slipped on the muddy grass along the side. "I just sort of, fell. It was very sudden. I was well shocked".
Her mother today commented that cliffs were "an extreme risk".
Annie acknowledged she was "partly responsible":
"I knew I wasn't supposed to go near the edge, but teenagers like to push boundaries. They are going to do things they should not do".
The cliff lies on land owned by Ernest Blitherington who said in an interview:
"It is a shame she ignored the warnings. There were thirty-three signs and a large fence between the path and the cliff edge. We were operating within the law".
Annie's mother is considering pressing charges. She commented on the dangers of cliffs and suggested stricter controls be put in place, such as twenty four hour armed guards and force fields. "I'm very concerned that children could go through the same experience as Annie. I was completely unaware that there are un-guarded cliffs".
It is expected that the matter of cliffs will be discussed in Parliament tomorrow. Some Health and Safety analysts have already suggested cliffs be outlawed completely.
Local ambulance staff said Annie was "lucky" and that in future she shouldn't behave like such a total prat.
Strangely enough, on this most auspicious of nights (quoth a certain masked freedom fighter), I seem to have little to rant about.
Or chat about, generally.
Certainly there are obvious things, like the weather, the holding deposit I've just sorted for a house, and worldly matters such as how Gordon Brown is still an angry Scottish primate with an IQ in double figures.
Sadly the above topics, I fear, are boring, boring, and obvious respectively, and thus do not lend themselves to riveting evening literature.
In light of this deficiency of dialect, I present instead a selection of photographs taken by me in moments of inspired boredom. Hope you like them :)
Oh also, I find this EXTREMELY unlikely, but please don't copy them without asking (copyright etc etc. blah blah snore snore sneeze yawn snore)
Two Grob Tutors at RAF Benson. Reminds me of the sheer awesomeness of flying.
Clouds spilling up out of a valley on La Gomera (canary islands)
Sunset from a mountaintop in Austria
A very ominous photo in my garden at home.
My favouristest photo. This is, inarguably, better than any of the postcards on sale at the tower.
Hope those were mildly interesting. I haven't taken any proper photos in ages but I should really go back to it...
Also, for those of you interested in blogging yourself, this window I'm typing in is pretty hopeless for sorting out images in. Imagine trying to put up a collage whilst looking through a letter box.
Sunday, 15 February 2009
Here's something from The World According to Clarkson (bought by an extremely thoughtful girlfriend):
"Boredom forces you to ring people you haven't seen for eighteen years and halfway through the conversation you remember why you left it so long. Boredom means you start to red not only mail-order catalogues but also the advertising inserts that fall on the floor. Boredom gives you half a mind to get a gun and go berserk in the local shopping centre, and you know where this is going. Eventually, boredom means you will take up golf."
All too true, it seems. I thought this little smidge of wisdom might provide some brain food for the bored-er people out there.
To be honest, this book seems a pretty good read for anyone who's bored, not-bored, happy, sad, literate, strange, or otherwise just wants some alternative amusement. For those less informed among you, it's simply a collection of rants from the ever-so-famous curly haired tall man of Top Gear fame (/infamy).
There seems to be an all too rare breed of humans who sit down and think a bit about the world and how it works, and Jeremy seems to be one of those people. Ok, fine, granted, in truth, and at the end of the day, (sub-clause cliché record broken?) I don't agree with everything he says. Light aircraft ARE fun, BMWs ARE for fat knobs who can't drive, and global warming WILL kill everyone (although I sometimes wonder if that's altogether a bad thing. If you've driven through Guildford in rush-hour, I guarantee you'll share that same occasional sentiment for mass genocide). But so what if he has different opinions? I'm not about to model myself after somebody else in a thoroughly clone-like manner, especially when one of the things I admire Clarkson for is his opinionation; HIS OWN opinions mind.
The point is, that here's a man who's all for freedom of speech, freedom to take-the-piss, and freedom to throw yourself head first out of a plane without some bloody health and safety "executive" telling you "you might die".
Sadly, reading through this I'm finding it hard to fully convey my meaning. I'll leave you with a short thought.
We're increasingly engaged in a society where idiots, chavs, and general social-degenerates are no longer killed off at a young age and removed from the gene pool. It's easy for stupid people to sail through life, blissfully unaware that they're making it thoroughly unpleasant for those who do, actually care. Far from saying you need to have an IQ of 130 to be socially acceptable, I'm pointing out that people who never stop to think about wider consequences, about the world as a whole, and about society (and what they're doing to it), don't deserve to be a part of it [gasps at harsh reality!]. Clarkson, like many other great speakers, isn't afraid to speak out against this sort of social liability, or to voice an actual opinion, on any number of matters, that so few people are even capable of FORMULATING. And whether or not you agree with him, you can't possibly deny that if everyone thought a little harder, maybe shouted a bit louder, and used their common sense a bit more, there'd be far less Health and Safety executives and the world would (probably) be a shinier place.
With more adrenalin.
And less hippies.
"Life is a comedy for those who think... and a tragedy for those who feel." Horace Walpole
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Please excuse my slight tardiness with this latest post- my laptop was getting a shiny new keyboard cover; which turned out to mean a shiny new keyboard, and trackpad as well. And they cleaned it! Lovely people at the Apple Store.
Speaking of which, here's a fairly worthless exercise.
Visit the Windows homepage, then the Apple homepage.
Noticed how they're (aside from colour) pretty much exactly the same layout? Yes folks, it seems that Microsoft can no longer even design a webpage without stealing ideas... For more evidence, check out the garish new Windows 7 (lovely name). They have these cool new features like a sort of... place where you have application icons and little "stack" like arrangements for folders... as I understand it. Except... Mac OS X has had that since the last version.
I'm going to stop this. I'm never going to convince anyone just by typing over the web. Seriously, get to an Apple store and try one if you want and [SHUT UP!]
Better change the subject.
Tiffany the paper crane has had some more outings. She's sadly looking a bit worse for wear now. At any rate:
I did have one more photo, however Blogger seems to hate me now, and won't let me upload another one. The picture on the right shows our favourite paper project sitting proudly atop the front desk of a lecture theatre. We got many an odd look from other people but the important thing is it was FUN. And most of all, I don't think I'll forget it. That's what good time use is about- doing things you enjoy and won't forget!
Anyway, speaking of such things I'm off to watch Top Gear.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Having gone to great lengths to excuse myself of producing this wholesome and fruity collection of words, I feel I should now explain what I'm going to do with my little patch of megabytes.
In case the title wasn't obvious, I'm endeavouring to rid my existence of that pesky human ailment know as boredom. Somehow, despite every little distraction, hobby, or past time available to us, everyone still manages to get bored.
Which is very probably the reason you're there, sitting at your little polycarbonate computing devices, reading this in the first place.
At any rate, this Blag, serves the purpose of number a) providing me with somewhere to vent my brain cells in the event that I feel the slow, tingly onset of boredom (not to be mistaken with herpes); and letter 2) to post, with no disregard to public safety, the fruits of my non-typing related boredom extermination techniques (for example, the previous post).
Actually, regarding said post, for those of you who are too motivationally-deficient to operate the motor neurones in your primary digits to manoeuvre the cursory component of your graphical user interface in order to interact with the afore-presented hyper-connecting intertubes device, I offer you lackadaisical assemblage, a visual representation of the product of this progression of actions below this line of verbiage:
[translation from Pretentious Speak: "if you couldn't be bothered to click the link, here's the picture". I enjoy being awkward.]
As you can see, this is a MASSIVE origami crane. It was made this afternoon in a fit of enthusiasm between myself and a fellow physicist (and part time sexual degenerate). Thanks for the help!
It's made of 51 sheets of A4 (we had to halve some to make a square) which were taped into a 3m by 3m square which JUST about fitted on my floor. That part took two hours. The folding was mostly ok and was just a case of squaring up everything!
Anyway, we've named her Tiffany and if you're very nice, she'll let you play with her.
For a small fee.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
I'm a 19 year old Physics student, in my first year at the University of Southampton.
As such, I write to you from the desk of my poorly lit, inadequately heated student room on a particularly dull Sunday, when all my friends have simultaneously decided that they can't be bothered to socialise.
Incidentally, if you know me, the following will possibly prove uninteresting or even, to your mind, inaccurate. If this is the case, please find something better to do :)
I think sometimes the best way to give an impression of who somebody is, is to compare them to a social group (or alternatively to someone you already know). As yet, I've been unable to find a suitable category, and therefore cannot offer this useful tool. The problem is this.
Inherently, I should be a geek. I am after all, on the internet typing a blog (although it should be noted that you are reading said blog- what do you consider yourself to be?). The fact that I study physics only helps to amplify this. Most Universities now require geekiness alongside grades for most science subjects. Anyway the criteria for this position is met in my interest in things like, science, aircraft, sci-fi, the use of legible sentences, and xkcd. However, I find myself now deliberately going out of my way to go against this (rather unflattering) stereotype on an all too frequent basis.
Firstly, I categorically will not be involved in Cosplay of any kind. The idea of dressing up as a fictional, highly anatomically-incorrect anime character and frolicking with like-minded "people" pretending that I don't resemble a mentally deficient toddler, is at best, laughable. Star Trek dress up falls into the same category. I don't see why I should pay thirty-four British Pounds Sterling to lose my dignity when I could do so just as easily by hitting the pubs with no clothes at all. This second method also carries the advantage that people tend to avert their eyes, rather than stare at you.
My point is that there are so many character traits and activities considered 'geeky' which I find dull or ridiculous, that it can't really suffice as my "social label". Thankfully.
Then there's dress sense.
A goth, is easily distinguished by his/her striking black attire, long boots, multiple chains and leather jackets, frequently layered over T-Shirts/hoodies adorned with logos for Opeth, Lamb of God, Slayer, etc. etc. Not that there's anything WRONG with this. I find goths to be among the nicest members of the social sub-cultures and have many friends who share this look.
Again, however, the same can't really be said for what I wear. Please, if you think otherwise, say so.
My usual outfits, consist of some vaguely uninteresting trousers, or jeans, either grey, blue or black. NEVER tight. I value my fertility.
Nothing interesting so far...
Top half consists mainly of black t-shirts with various logos including Atticus, Give It A Name, and some pretty cool abstract white patterns in spikey shapes.
Normally this is finished off with some kind of dark, or black shirt with sleeves rolled up worn open over the top.
I would never be naive enough to make a point of how "individual" I am, for fear of sounding like every other self absorbed, whiney teenager in the western world. My point is simply that to my mind, I don't fit any prescribed category. A lot of people don't. And that's probably a good thing.
At this point you've hopefully gained a vague idea of how I dress. In case you haven't, try scrolling up a few lines to that gratuitously over-detailed section immediately above this. Aesthetically then, you need only add that I'm 6'2", slim, am male and have shortish dark (nearly black) hair to form the exact likeness of me in your mind.
Or alternatively, to form the image of Jimmy Carr.
At any rate, I'm not looking for a date.
I'm rapidly running out of willpower to stay awake, and will therefore usher in the conclusion of this soliloquy.
In short then, I'm quite loud, outspoken, opinionated, sarcastic, sometimes pessimistic, opportunistic and have a pet hate for bad grammar.
I also enjoy writing bizarrely structured internet articles in the hope that someone will eventually read them and by immediately struck by how strange they are.
Thanks for helping with that.
If you're extremely quiet, you'll be able to faintly hear a murmur of disbelief from the select few who have been exposed to my previous rants on blogging.
These two (or maybe three) individuals, will no doubt be asking if I've shamelessly abandoned my principles and started my own little patch on the interwebs, where I can "vomit the contents of my conscience on to those daft enough to read it".
In short, yes.
What then possessed this deplorable lapse of integrity?
Mostly, if not entirely, boredom. Beyond that it was an insatiable need to share with anyone who will willingly listen, my sporadically distributed and largely aggressive bursts of concentrated thought. I have no idea if anyone will be interested, but the intention is there.
Unfortunately, I'm well aware that a man's life is measured by his impact rather than his intentions, otherwise surely George W. Bush would have received far less criticism. So the future will determine whether this is a pointless exercise or a fruitful jaunt down the main street of the capital city of Blogdom.
And with that unnecessarily annoying metaphor, I believe an introduction is in order.