A Year Has Passed Since I Wrote My Note

As the line goes from the Police song "Message In A Bottle", but in this instance refers to how long it has been since I last posted anything.

It's been an odd year. But as it was 2011 that would make sense. This is 2012 so should be an even year.

I've now been diagnosed with Bi-Polar Effective Disorder. Manic Depression to you and me, but mine seems to have more emphasis on the depression than the mania. Still, after referrals, different medications and testing by various doctors, I am signed off from looking for work for the minute. I have new meds - the sixth different lot I've been prescribed - and they seem to be working so far.

I know I'm not cured and it's likely I never will be. I am more aware of when my depressive episodes are coming and some tricks to try and pull myself out of them.

I've come a long way, but there's still a longer distance to go.

I've been to Luxembourg twice, Botswana once and nowhere far too frequently.

I've had theories regarding how Geordie is actually the finest of all languages and that its importance in Modern English is sorely overlooked. Some of this still appears true now, but some seems quite fanciful in retrospect.

I've learned more about sewing machines than I thought I would ever know and it still isn't very much.

I've realised that my mother had some very good tips for life and some that were utterly insane. I am still learning which is which. I've also realised that she made words up. I'm not sure if she realised they were made up ("instricated" for example, meaning to have gotten yourself into a situation - physical or otherwise - from which you have difficulty getting out of because you and the situation have become one. I like to think of this as being a contraction of "intrinsically implicated", but suspect she was just a little bit mad.)

I've discovered the joy of an Ouma Rusk and where you can get them in the UK.

I've argued with Emirates airline, various banks, the DWP, my family and my demons. At the moment, I would consider my record to be less than convincing, but if I can manage to only win the one with my demons, that would be a fine result.

I've realised just how ill I actually am and that my depression is not my friend. It seems odd to say that, but up until very recently, I thought my depression was actually responsible for keeping me alive. Being too negative to attempt suicide (because I thought I would do it wrong and end up being paralysed from the neck down) seemed benevolent until I considered that the reason I was feeling suicidal in the first place was down to the same depression.

I hope I'm through the worst of it, but if this is just the eye of the storm, I'll be better prepared for the tail end of the hurricane when it comes.

You may struggle to understand what goes on in my head at times. Imagine what it feels like for me when I can't understand it either.

You may think I am ignoring you because I've not contacted you or haven't replied to a phone call, email or text. I'm not, I'm just having a major communication breakdown in general and can't stop the conversations in my head long enough to be able to speak to anyone clearly.

You may think I should just cheer up & snap out of it. So do I. Sadly, it's not quite that simple and will require medical and psychological intervention. Which is not easy for me as my illness has helped me build a huge distrust of psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists and practitioners of CBT.

You may not be prepared to wait for me to be back to normal & this is fair enough. However, unless you were romantically attached to me or lived in the same house as me, what you consider to be me being normal is probably me being manic.

You may want to write your own note to me. I will try to reply. It may take me a while though.

Most Important Invention Of The 21st Century?

According to confused.com the most important invention of the 21st Century has been decided already. So suck on that inventors! The next 90 years will have NOTHING that will compare to, wait for it, dah-dah-daaaaaaah, the internet.

Yes, that internet. The internet that I've been using since mid 1994; which has been in existence in one form or another since ARPANET, but for the sake of argument I will say 1989 (when CERN opened its first external TCP/IP connections). 1989 - according to confused.com at least - now part of the 21st Century, rather than the 20th as we'd been previously led to believe.



Anyway, this irritated me - and I know I'm not alone on this - so I mailed them about it, suggesting that by their criteria, I could suggest penicillin was the most important invention of the 21st Century.

Much to my surprise, I got this reply (suspiciously similar to those on the above link)

Thanks for taking the time to email us regarding our new TV Advert.

Cara (the character in our ad) is saying that the internet is the most important invention of the 21st century, in terms of impact and not that it was actually invented in the 21st century.

We do believe this to be correct, but we also value your opinion on this, so I will definitely pass your comments regarding penicillin onto our Advertising Team. It's always good to have customer feedback.

Thank you once again,

So, if you get easily bored, remember there is a "Contact Us" tab on confused.com's website and you can mail them your suggestion for the best invention of the 21st Century. I reckon if enough people do it, we can get them to admit that fire was the most important suggestion of the 21st Century.

Idiots.

Spiralling Into Madness And The Death Of Others

It has been suggested to me that my depression is linked to the death of my father when I was 10. And it seemed quite plausible to me, until I saw photos taken from before he died, where I looked unbelievably miserable. Once I'd reflected on this I started remembering that I was a thoroughly depressed child from a very young age, well before my tenth birthday.

I have pictures of me looking frankly annoyed to be in Bergen, pissed off to be in North Cape, genuinely distressed to be in Norfolk, and many, many other places around the world. Despite the fact I had - as far as I recall - a fairly happy childhood. I was nurtured, encouraged, supported and taken to all these wonderful places and I was, for the most part, deeply depressed about it.

You may be thinking "the word you're looking for is ungrateful, not depressed" and I can understand why you'd think that. But I was genuinely grateful to have the opportunity to travel and spend time with people I loved and loved me. The problem was I just found everywhere a bit "meh". I was jaded and world weary before I was 8. There was nowhere I felt happy, not even at home. There were lots of nice places, wonderful views and experiences, but did I enjoy a single one of them? No.

And while I was annoyed at myself for not enjoying these things when they were happening, I was even more annoyed at myself when my Dad died and I realised I'd never do any of them again with him. Which made me more depressed and inward. And also began my hated of other children. To see them running around, blind to the worries and concerns that filled my head, made me bitter.

Again, it sounds like I'm an ungrateful bastard and I should just pull myself together and appreciate all the good things that have happened to me. I do appreciate all the things that have happened to me - good and bad - as they make me remember I am actually alive. My depression keeps me in such a state of almost suspended animation that when good or bad things happen I sometimes don't notice them. The date my mother died? Not a clue. It shames me to say that as I love her dearly, but I have no idea when she died.

So when the depression comes in and tells me that I could be in the most wonderful place in the world and not actually take pleasure from it, I believe it. That I could be doing the thing I most wanted to, and I'd just find it boring or I'd be useless at it, whatever you say my little black dog. I have analysed to death things that I have an interest in. I've made things I enjoyed so utterly unenjoyable that I take no further pleasure from them. I'm not sure if that's depression or me just being an idiot, but whatever light relief I had, I stopped it and got depressed about doing it.

And then annoyed at myself for being depressed when there were people who were much worse off than I was and had something to be genuinely depressed about.

My worst experience of depression so far (at least I think it was, others may have a different opinion) was in Exeter when I very nearly killed myself. I blame the anti-depressants I was on filling my head with serotonin when my head was not used to such happiness fuelled drugs. It could well have been the general unpleasantness of the shared house I was living in, who knows.

What I do know is that it was the murder of Tom Brown that made me snap out of it. Tom was one of my ex-staff from when I used to run a Students' Union bar in Enfield. Some mutual friends came round to tell me when it happened. I was utterly stunned. I was even more stunned when another friend of mine told me later that when she'd been phoned and told that there was some bad news, she assumed it was me killing myself.

I resolved to do something about my depression, my situation and my life.

I'm still trying to, and often still failing.

My Depression And Me: An Introduction

This was going to be one post, but I think it would have become too long and rambling, so I'm going to split it into parts.

This post is quite difficult for me to write. Firstly, it's talking about me and my feelings - rather than just ranting - and secondly, it's talking about what many people consider to be a mental illness. I am personally of the opinion that an abscence of depression is more indicative of mental illness and that if more people actually acknowledged that they too were sufferers, being depressed would be seen as the statistical norm.

Some of you who know me may be aware that I suffer from depression. I say "suffer", I'm not usually the one who suffers from my depression. In many ways I used to quite like being depressed. It is quite possible that you've known me for decades and not realised I had depression. This is either because I find your company so utterly exhilarating or you too have something akin to depression. Or you just thought I was moody.

This isn't a recent thing: I've been doing it all my life. I remember being told I used to scare the other kids at Primary school by telling them how we could die in a nuclear assault and have no warning whatsoever. To me, that threat of nuclear oblivion didn't seem scary, just inevitable. So I accepted it and didn't worry about it. The kids I told about my (to them) terrifying world view thought about how they'd never see their families again and started having panic attacks.

To me I was doing them a favour. I was explaining a situation they hadn't thought of and what would happen to them and the world they knew. That didn't terrify me. Not knowing - or at least not considering all the possibilities - terrified me. Once I knew about the likelihood and the potential outcome, I could accept it and not be bothered by it.

Leading up to my exams, I think I spent the best part of three months at home. It wasn't that I had any fear of going to school (or of the exams), it was just that I *couldn't* leave the house. And not in an agoraphobia way either. It was just a debilitating mental block made physical. And it's not like I did anything interesting or exciting while not being at school. I'd sit in almost perfect silence just thinking negative thoughts.

And once I'd thought all the negative things I could imagine, then I'd be able to progress and do something positive. This is kinda where being depressed appeared to be quite helpful. In my head, I'd think that the exams would concentrate entirely on parts of the syllabus I hadn't revised. So instead of revising everything, I revised nothing. Not a single thing. This would - in my head - increase the chance that I'd know the answers, as there wasn't any part of the syllabus I knew any worse than any other section.

Brilliant. Obviously I do not suggest this approach to anyone who isn't me.

Surprisingly, I did quite well at both O Level & A Level, despite never revising for anything. Driving test, didn't revise. First Aid qualifications, never revised. Degree finals, no revision whatsoever. Any other single exam I have ever taken in my entire life, not a minute of revision.

And I continue with the same level of madness in many other parts of my life. If I watch a game of football, the team I am supporting are more likely to lose than if I am not watching. In my mind, this is a fact. I haven't actually done an analysis of the results as I don't want to break my intricately constructed world view. But even as I type this, I still think that it's probably true.

The effect of me listening to the game on the radio would reduce my overall ability to cause the team I was supporting to lose, but it would still be there. Following the game via text updates or on Sky Sports News also counts as me watching it. The only guaranteed way of getting my team to win is to not have a team. I'm like a jinx; Newcastle United have never won anything since I was born specifically because I was born.

This does not lead, you will be unsurprised to learn, to me having a joyful life.

With the depression I have - not the sexy bi-polar one, sadly, there's no days of ecstatic highs for me - and the length of time I've had it (I think it's probably been with me for about 35 years) I've come to expect never feeling competely happy. Not in a pessimistic kind of way, it's actually more pervasive than that. I have come to believe - not suspect, believe - that if I am actually happy about something, that something will fall apart spectacularly.

If I am very happy about someone, that someone will leave me in some way (die, move, get abducted by aliens). If I am very pleased with something, that something will stop (break, get stolen, burn down, fall over and sink into the swamp). So I moderate my happiness to stop bad things happening (no, really, it's all down to me). Despite being incredibly pleased with my relationship and my home life, I try to not become happy about it so that it doesn't all come to a crashing halt.

Now there's obviously a problem doing this: I remain ambivalent and my partner doesn't think I'm happy with her. I end up in the same situation as I fear being in from being happy, and I've never had the benefit of unreservedly enjoying any of it.

And I am fully aware of this. And yet I still do it.

This will continue. Probably tomorrow. Maybe not. I'll see how I feel.

Empty Vessels And Posting Anonymously

And it is so nice to be back blogging. I've been back for two days and I get a nice bit of anonymous feedback to my Let's Start Throwing Things post.

Empty Vessels make the most noise. Why didn't you do something YOURSELF when working to get the qualifications you now seem to believe are your god given right?
Page Up/ Page Down... don't make me laugh. You’re the typical "world owes me a living" bod that enjoys trying to show how much cleverer you are than the Jobcentre staff.

Good Luck in your job search. Your attitude to your previous job seems to carry over into your dealings with people who are trying to help you. as for you implied threat of violence... hmmmm.

Where to start.

First up, "Hi". Nice of you to read my rant and decide to reply. Always pleasant to get feedback of any nature. Shame you couldn't be bothered to make up a name.

"Empty Vessels make the most noise."

Really? Are you sure about that? Because as I recall from Physics (although I did do this when Pluto was still a planet), noise doesn't travel across a vacuum, and there's nowt emptier than a vacuum. I'm sure Plato wasn't aware of that when he allegedly came up with the original phrase, but let's not have facts get in the way, eh?

If you are asserting that I am the empty vessel because I make the most noise, please note the fact that this was my SECOND post in over 18 months. This was also my first post about being unemployed. If I was somehow revelling in my situation, I'd have been on TV about it complaining about how this world was not working out in the way God had intended and that I'd like my money back. As it is, I think I'm perfectly entitled to complain once in 6 months about having to go to a Jobcentre.

"Why didn't you do something YOURSELF when working to get the qualifications you now seem to believe are your god given right?"

Firstly, I don't think they're my God given right. Employers now seem to insist upon them for nearly all of the positions I've seen advertised. I personally don't think there's much point in doing ITiL, as it's supposed to be a "best practice" thing and I'm old school enough to remember when you tried to do things properly. MCSE & CCNA have been devalued by the huge number of "Pay us and we will guarantee you'll pass this" courses available.

I've recently worked with someone who had a CCNA. He was by far the stupidest person I've ever had the misfortune to work with - and my God that is a highly contested title. He had virtually no knowledge of anything to do with IT, yet managed to get the job purely because he had a piece of paper saying he had a CCNA.

The person who employed him - my ex employer - wouldn't pay for me to go on courses as he saw no point in them. I knew what I was doing, he knew I knew what I was doing. Plus what I was doing was so specialist in the extreme that there were no relevant courses. As I was working 10 hour days and had a three hour round trip, there wasn't really much time to fit a course in. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to do a course, specifically for when that employment ended, but you know what, I was too busy working.

Plus, and here's the kicker, I'm not the one who puts up posters in the Jobcentre telling me to retrain; I'm not the one who puts up posters in the Jobcentre telling me to get qualifications. I am the one who goes in asking about doing retraining and getting certification, and gets told that there's no budget for it and no real courses above basic computer skills.

"Page Up/ Page Down... don't make me laugh. You’re the typical "world owes me a living" bod that enjoys trying to show how much cleverer you are than the Jobcentre staff."

Difficult to believe, I know, but I did actually have to explain to the person doing my jobseekers interview that they could use the PG UP, PG DOWN buttons to go up and down the list of jobs, rather than scrolling way past the one they were aiming for.

I didn't go on to explain what the other buttons in the block of six did as that would have been unnecessary. I explained something that made the job of the person who was talking to me easier. That's not showing how clever I am, that's spreading knowledge.

And how dare you suggest I'm a "world owes me a living" bod! I was out of work for six weeks before I even went to the Jobcentre. This is the first or second time in my entire life I've even bothered to claim any benefits, and I was hoping that having paid so much tax I might be able to get some assistance in getting back to work, so I could pay more tax.

Despite the posters and the requirement to attend, there is nothing the Jobcentre can do to get me a job.

"Good Luck in your job search."

Thanks. I'm sure I'm going to need it.

"Your attitude to your previous job seems to carry over into your dealings with people who are trying to help you."

My previous job was dull, repetitive and involved dealing with people who were so stupid it was a constant surprise that they remembered to put on trousers. I believe a lot of jobs are like this. Mind you, a lot of people seem to like The X-Factor, so perhaps it's just me who is wrong and has a negative view of life.

The "people who are trying to help" I'm guessing are the Jobcentre staff who have told me that there's not really anything they can do for me? The same staff who have told me that there's no budget for courses? The same people who told me that they don't get many advertisements for jobs in my field, "whatever it is that you do"? Those people? Yeah, I may have some issues with them.

Not them per se, you understand, but inter alia. They know they can't do anything for me, I know they can't do anything for me. We both know this. We both keep up the pretence that it's for my good that I go and see them. I see the same guy every week and every week he apologises (quietly) that we have to go through this charade.

I've applied for over 100 jobs since I left my previous employment. I've had three offers of interviews, which is apparently quite a high percentage of replies. One of the positions was mis-advertised and paid £11k. They told me they were looking for someone a little less experienced. I'll keep plodding on with it, but it is a depressing experience.

So you'll forgive me my little rant at having to go through the whole belittling experience on a weekly basis with an organisation who can, by their own admission, do nothing to help.

"as for you implied threat of violence... hmmmm"

Capital A, missing r, incorrect use of implied.

Let's Start Throwing Things

I am currently unemployed. Have been for six months now, since I was kinda sacked from my previous job. I haven't actually been told that I was sacked, but I took the "give me your keys back" as enough proof and I haven't been back since.

To be honest, I was sick of the job, sick of the three hour round trip, sick of the stupidity of the customers and the management and sick of the boring repetitive nature of the work. So in many ways it was a relief. Okay so being unemployed doesn't pay as well, and is just as boring in many ways, but at least I get the joy of going to the jobcentre.

Which is where my problems really began.

They have no real clue what it is I do. Which is fair enough, as I can't actually work out what exactly they're supposed to do either. Although I did hear one of the staff complaining about being the purchaser of stationery and then discovering that she wasn't supposed to order blue pens.

Despite me working in IT for many years, I don't actually have any qualifications in IT - apart from an IT O Level I took in 1986. So I hoped - foolishly in retrospect - that I would be able to get some kind of qualification via the Jobcentre. Oh dearie me no. There's posters telling you to retrain. There's posters telling you to get qualifications. But there's no actual courses or budget for anyone who wants to do a specific course.

CCNA? No. MCSE? No. ECDL? No. ITiL? No. Learning how to use a mouse? You betcha!

I even went on a course to see if I could set up my own business - possibly training people who didn't know how to use a computer (like some of the staff in the Jobcentre, none of whom seemed to know what the PG UP or PG DOWN buttons do) - and went to a training place in Clapham.

First day there was probably 26 - 30 people. Second day, half that. Third day, maybe ten of us. And we learned nothing. I learned more about setting up a business in my Commerce O Level and Economics AO & A Levels than I was ever going to do at that place. And that irritated me. They're getting paid by the Government (read taxpayers) to provide training and yet they provide nothing of the sort.

Yet actual courses that could enable people to get back into work and paying higher rate tax (you'd hope to be getting £40k plus with a nice selection of Cisco courses and maybe some Microsoft certified stuff) are not available. There's not even funding for teacher training courses, or for anyone wanting to teach adults basic skills that they might be lacking - which again would hopefully lead to more tax receipts.

What is exactly the point of the Jobcentre? They can't train you in anything worthwhile, they told me that I would be better off looking on industry specific websites as they "don't get many job adverts for IT positions" so they're not really helping me get back into work, and they won't pay for me to be CRB checked.

I kinda despair at the pointlessness of having to go to see them every single week. But I do have to go, or they stop giving me the princely sum of £65 a week.

I wonder sometimes if the whole demotivational process is designed to weed out people who are actually working on the side and persuade them that they'd be better off not going in. Or possibly it's to drag down motivated people so that they become entirely reliant on the state. Who can tell.

All I know is, I think I'm going to go postal in there soon, and given the amount of IT equipment lying around, I think I could do quite a lot of damage. That's the benefit of having worked in IT, you know what's going to hurt the most when you throw it at someone.

Did I Miss Anything?

*blinks twice*

Wow. It's been about 18 months since I last blogged. That is quite incredible. There are many reasons why I've not blogged - some of which I may go into at a later date - although I think it can be summed up with "Meh".

I've spent most of my life wondering what the hell is going on with everybody and why no-one else is doing anything about the sheer stupidity of Government/business/cyclists and I'm sure you're delighted to learn I've spent the past 18 months doing pretty much the same thing with Government/business/NHS/cyclists/taxis etc.

Here's something. If you live in London and have the misfortune to be a car driver you will already be aware of the utter idiocy that is Cycle Superhighways. There's one on a road I travel down twice a day. Since its introduction, the lane width for cars, buses and trucks has gone down. Doesn't stop cyclists from still being in the middle of the road, you understand, but does increase the chance of people in vehicles having to swerve to avoid crashing into other vehicles. So I am now MORE likely to drive into a cyclist. Yay!

I say more likely, given the number of them who seem to think red lights don't apply to them, go straight through the junction then look daggers at me when they nearly drive into me (and I'm the one going through on green rememeber), then my chances of killing them hasn't gone up too much.

And they don't like it when you open your door when they're going past, do they? Some of them have even stopped talking on their phones or changing their iPod track to gesticulate at me. Probably. Not that I've even bothered looking.

So yeah, cyclists. Bastards. Taxi drivers however, utter utter bastards. My contempt for them has gone up now I see so many of them driving round with sat navs. What's the point of doing the knowledge if you're just going to use a fucking sat nav? Grr. Bus drivers, I will kill one of you very very soon. And you know the reason why.

But my main gripe is the complete morons who ring me up at all hours of the day and night to tell me there is now legislation in place that means I can get money back on all my debts. Or that my PC is apparently sending them messages telling them how slowly it's running. Or that they're not based in India (despite the accent and dialling code). I will definitely be killing each and every single one of those motherfuckers.

Still angry, still Silas. And now blogging again.

Peace, I'm out.

An Open Letter To Roskilde Festival

I'm sorry I have to write this, but I need to tell you how unhappy I am with your line-up this year.

Firstly, let me explain my background. I was introduced to Roskilde by The Devil, she rated it as the best festival in the world, and raved about the time she had at the 2006 event (headliners Bob Dylan, Guns & Roses, The Strokes, Franz Ferdinand, sub-headliners Primal Scream, Kaizer Chiefs, Deftones, Placebo, Scissor Sisters among others)

I went and was soaked in 2007, but amazed by the acts provided. Pretty much everyone on the main stage and the Arena stage were people I'd heard of and were interested in seeing. Okay, so there were a lot of American and British bands, but they were, for the most part, rock acts. While I stood in the horizontal rain patiently waiting for my wristband, I heard the Killers. From the leaking tent you provided, I heard The Who, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Queens of the Stone Age. I dragged myself through mud to watch My Chemical Romance and Machinehead in the tent. I stood all day in front of the main stage watching Muse, Arctic Monkeys, Flaming Lips and Basement Jaxx.

Despite the soaking, despite the mud, despite the leaky tents, we came back for 2008. We bought our tickets before the headliners were announced. We were delighted with your free Get-A-Tent tickets to make up for the debacle of the previous year's tents. We waited with bated breath to see what delights were in store for us.

And you announced Grinderman, Slayer, My Bloody Valentine and Neil Young. We didn't complain as we felt sure there would be other acts added to make the journey worthwhile. You added Slayer, Gnarls Barkly and Radiohead. We noted with delight that we could avoid Radiohead fans by going to see the final Hellacopters performance. We hoped Bullet For My Valentine would be as good in the tent as MCR had been the previous year. And then you announced Jay-Z....

I mean, really. What were you thinking? And he was closing the festival? What. The. Fuck. A rapper/hip hop bloke closing the Roskilde Festival? Had you taken leave of your senses?

The Festival itself had much better weather than the previous year. Which was a relief, as we spent most of it as far away from the main stages as possible. Seasick Steve was in too small a venue and we saw nothing. MGMT were too far from anywhere to get to easily. And Slayer were only funny because of infants dancing to them whilst wearing headphones. The "highlight" for me was the fact that it started to piss down with rain just as Jay-Z was about to come on stage and everybody legged it. We managed to squeeze into the tent for Hot Chip and dried off by bouncing up and down with the crowd there - until they ruined it by finishing their set with a cover of "Time After Time". Way to go to ruin a vibe.

And so to this year. It started off with some promise: Slipknot, Madness, Nine Inch Nails. And some dross, Coldplay, Lily Allen and the fifteen years past their "prime" Oasis. It will pick up, we said, and even though the disastrous fall of the GBP against the DKK meant the tickets were nearly twice as expensive as last year, we bought early. We also dutifully filled in the Artist Request forms so you could see what we wanted.

And then you announced Lil' Wayne and Kanye West. And, just for good measure, the fucking Pet Shop Boys. Oh how we fumed. But we believed that you would, Roskilde Festival, pull out some big names when you announced the main line up for this year's event. And in some ways, you did. Not the ones we were expecting though, sadly.

Grace Jones?!? Who the hell asked for Grace Jones? Why do you bother asking for band requests and then book Grace Jones? Where's Faith No More? Where's Limp Bizkit? Where's the upcoming metal bands? Didn't this used to be a rock festival? Why the obsession with hip-hop?

Consider this a warning. Please get some better acts or we won't be back.

Minesweeper Hates Me


How was I supposed to work out which one of those two the mine was in? Cunts.

7 Things

I seem to have been tagged by La Bete over at safeism with the current meme du jour. So here we go with 7 things about me. I think most people who read this know me fairly well, so I'll put some obscure stuff in.

1. I once claimed to have been born on a plane travelling to America.

This was while I was at school and seemed fairly hilarious at the time. Managed to get away with that particular lie for over a year. I have also claimed, at various times, to be part Irish, despite there being no known truth to this (or any proof that it is an outright lie). As far as I'm aware, I was born either in Newcastle General, or Ashington General hospital, during a snow storm.

2. I don't eat (most) fruit.

I've tried pretty much every different type of fruit and I dislike pretty much all of them. The only things I will put up with are; pineapple slices if they're cooked; strawberries if they're thinly sliced, oven cooked and served with cracked black pepper; and very recently, bananas if they're in very small pieces (ideally blended) and in one of The Devil's excellent muffins.

3. I am rubbish at keeping in contact with my friends.

As pretty much everyone who reads this will know. I can go for probably a year without talking to some of them. As far as I can remember, I've always been like this and it shouldn't be seen as me not liking you any more. The person I've known the longest (who I'm not related to) is Julie Cho, and I've known her for about 25 years. For about 10 year of that, I didn't contact her. Not through spite, I'm just rubbish at keeping in contact.

4. I used to be very good at athletics.

Difficult to believe now, but I used to be VERY good at 400m running. So good, in fact, I used to run it for the county. I also represented my school at 200m, Long Jump and High Jump & the county at 4x100m relay. Oh, and I was on the county side for rugby for three years. Once I got to High School, however, I pretty much stopped all involvement in sports outside of class specific events. And once I went to University, I stopped taking exercise altogether.

5. I was born pretty much 9 months after my dad's birthday.

So that must have been one hell of a present my mother gave him. It always amuses me to see people's reactions when I point that one out. Mainly because you can see them doing the maths in their own head, and realising that they too were daddy's special present.

6. I'm fairly certain that I've only got a prize in two competitions.

Not that I enter a great deal of competitions - although there have been a couple of phases when I used to enter every competition I saw - and I'm not including the lottery in this either (although I've never won a prize bigger than £10 on that). But I do remember winning a Pretty In Pink t-shirt, book & soundtrack album (on vinyl) from Smash Hits and a jacket and something else from Empire magazine.

7. Considering I don't work in TV, I've met a decent amount of famous people.

Well, not a HUGE amount, and some of them aren't really *that* famous. But I have met music-related; Robbie Williams, Jarvis Cocker, Damon Albarn, Kylie Minogue, all of Duran Duran, all of INXS, and all of The Bangles (plus I kissed Susannah Hoffs). Comedy related; Eddie Izzard, Frank Skinner, David Baddiel, Bill Bailey, Sean Locke Mark Lamarr, Johnny Vegas, Ross Noble, Phil Nichol and Phil Kay. Sport related; Peter Beardsley, Chris Waddle, Neil MacDonald, Dewi Morris, Roger Uttley and Alan Shearer (long, *long* time ago). And a rather large number of actors from my University days.

And that is me. I'll spare most people the embarrassment but I will tag the following to continue the meme if they see fit, Feldman, Mia and Jamesh.

Anyone else who wants to, can.

New Blog

I've just added a new blog to my repertoire, basically aiming to annoy as many Christians as possible.

The Devil sends me a huge amount of Mormon and regular Christian blog sites, and some of them are worthy of a slightly wider audience for their sheer comedy value alone.

If anyone else finds any religious blog sites worthy of derision, do send them to me via the comments section of the new blog.

I thank you.

Update On Becca's Angels

Just if anyone's interested, there are two new - and probably final - updates on Becca/Bob's blog.

Peter and Bet are going to concentrate their future efforts on the Melanoma Awareness Project(MAP) website from now on, and attempt to get the MAP DVD into every school in the country.

I'd like to wish them the best of luck with that.

Humanism

Went to a Humanist Naming Ceremony at the weekend, and heard the woman overseeing the ceremony say something along the lines of "Humanism encompasses atheism and agnosticism ‑ but is an active and ethical philosophy far greater than these negative responses to religion." That's an actual quote from the British Humanist site here

I'm an atheist not as a negative response to religion, I just don't believe in any God. I don't see me believing that the Universe was created by something I don't understand (but wasn't by a mystical being) as being negative. Nor do I actively attempt to stop other people from having their religious beliefs. If they need religion to explain the wonderful chaos of life, then fine. I don't. As long as they don't attempt to convert me to their point of view, then they can go and kill each other over which one of them has the best invisible magic friend.

The fact that the Humanist Society seem to be taking previous Pagan ceremonies as being proof of the long standing existence of Humanism (on their site, where they explain that they're not planning on abolishing Christmas) irritates me, especially as they seem so determined to show that they're not religious in any way shape or form. They even have, in a list of their beliefs, one that says they don't believe in any sacred texts. Which strikes me as ironic.

But that's not my main beef with Humanism as 'practised' in the UK, oh dear me no. Nor the most ironic thing they've ever done.

The thing that seems to grate the most is that the British Humanists seem to have Polly Toynbee as their president. Polly Toynbee, for the uninitiated is a Guardian columnist. She's also a spectacular liar (as shown rather often by the wonderful Factchecking Pollyanna website - now sadly defunct) and was made to look a complete tit on Question Time quite recently by Richard Littlejohn.

Polly Toynbee is one of the Socialist preacher types. Expects other people to do as she says, as she knows best. But she doesn't follow her own rules. Her kids went to private school while she advocates the state school system. She has a holiday villa in Italy while she advocates we travel less to save the planet from Global Warming. You know the type. She was also a massive supporter of Gordon Brown until it became readily apparent to her that he was completely barking mad and not capable of running the country. It took Polly quite a bit longer than it took the rest of us to notice, so blinded was she by her devotion to Gordon.

Which isn't very Humanist. Or perhaps it is. Who cares?

How Many Five Year Olds Can You Take In A Fight?

35

OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Beat that you fuckers.

Hat-tip to The Devil

TFL And Their Version Of Time



Click image to embiggen it.

Thoughts From Roskilde

First up, wonderful weather for the majority of the festival. This made quite a change from last year's floodfest, although still allowed an absolute downpour just as Jay-Z came on stage. Wonderful timing!

Pick of the bands were The Hellacopters (although added to by the dancing man in front of us), Job For A Cowboy (started well but then got a bit repetitive), Seasick Steve (who needs a MUCH bigger venue next year), Hot Chip (very bouncy in the rain, but NEVER end with 'Nothing Compares 2U' *ever* again), Kings of Leon (more chatty than usual) and Bullet For My Valentine (for encouraging people to crowdsurf in a venue that completely discourages it, not for playing too much off the new album).

The "why?" list of bands included Neil Young (4 songs in 45 minutes, on stage 2.5hours that felt like a week), Gnarls Barkley (doing the only song anyone knows right at the end is pretty cunty behaviour), Grinderman (even Nick Cave fans were disappointed) & The Chemical Brothers (the new stuff is worryingly Kraftwerk-like and the light show was just irritating).

Highlights generally were the happy smiley faces of pretty much everyone there, the range of food (although you might want to order more of the popular stuff next year, eh?) and the atmosphere.

On the downside, there was no shade whatsoever in Get A Tent camping, the snack bars ran out of coffee on the second morning and then closed completely before Jay-Z had really got started, and there really needs to be more places to sit that don't smell of piss.

And yes, I shall be going again next year.

Back From Roskilde

I am now back from the fabulous Roskilde Festival, and unlike last year, I didn't get soaked to the skin every single time I left the tent.

More about this and other things later today/tomorrow.

Apologies

Sorry about the lack of blogging recently. Family stuff, house move and work (though not necessarily in that order) have contributed to me being fairly time poor.

Fear not, there will be more spleen venting over the coming week. As per usual.

Me & Technology

For a geek, I'm not particularly bothered about technology. My thinking is "it's a tool, use it, don't get hung up on having the latest tool if the one you currently have works well." And this used to suit me fine. Okay, I used to get the piss ripped out of me for having a phone that was 'insured against Viking raids', but it made and received phone calls & texts and that was exactly what I wanted it to do.

Three years I had that phone, and it was still working perfectly when I was persuaded to get a newer one. So I got a shiny new Nokia about a year ago, and that too worked very well. Plus, unlike the other one, it had a camera on it. My my, how I'd moved into the 20th Century.

Then it started to go a bit mental in January. Nothing major, just a glitch taking a photo and then the whole phone locked up. Did the standard techie thing of turning it off and then back on again, and this fixed it. Or so it seemed. I think that was actually the start of the breakdown. Since then, I've had intermittent problems receiving texts, and - very occasionally - calls.

Last weekend, however, I realised I hadn't had ANY text messages whatsoever for about three days - which is very unusual for me - so I tried to speak to Orange Customer Services. Go through the convoluted menu options to be told that calls to Customer Services will cost me 25p. Okay, not a lot, but annoying anyway. Press the button to continue, then get another message telling me that Customer Services are only open between the hours of 8am and 10pm.

Wow. A company that isn't 24hr! I was surprised. Very surprised. Rang back the next morning to explain my phone problems, and was told by Customer Services that I had probably got a faulty SIM and that they would send me a new one, all configured with my number etc, and all I'd need to do was pop it in the phone.

SIM duly arrives, and in it goes. Nothing. Read accompanying instructions. Seems I need to call to get the SIM activated. Fair enough, assume this is so they know I've got it. Call Customer Services yet again, then get told the spectacular news that the SIM doesn't actually have my number on it yet, and needs to receive some SIM updates in order to work. These SIM updates will be sent by text (problem 1) and at some point over the next 24 hours (problem 2).

That was 24 hours ago. Obviously the SIM updates still haven't arrived as my phone can't receive texts - hence I needed a replacement card. So since yesterday morning I've been uncontactable. Which hasn't been too bad at all, but mainly because I have a new phone: with a new number that only one person knows.

This situation will be changing very soon, as I'm porting my old number across to the new phone. Which brings me onto something else. Orange told me - when I first rang up for the PAC number - that they *had* to send it out by post and it would take three to four days and I'd need to have ID to sign for it.

Slight problem there, fella. Can't wait that long to start the porting (which seems to take three days itself) & I don't have any ID. "Well sir" the man says "those are the rules." Now I see this sort of thing as a challenge, so I rang them back on a freephone number they don't tell you about, and asked to speak to the Complaints Department. Told I may have to wait 15 minutes, told them this was fine as I was on their freephone number and it would be costing them more money to leave me hanging.

Amazingly, get put through in less than a minute. Told the same as before, "those are the rules" then I asked the guy if there was someone there who was paid more money than him in return for being shouted at. Was escalated to said person. Nice chap, told him the problem, he then gives me the PAC number over the phone. That number goes to my new phone company, and my old number will be on my new phone on Monday.

Result.

I now have a phone with a 3.2 Megapixel camera (with Carl Zeiss lens, no less), free internet connection, free text messages and 400 minutes of free calls to any network. Oh, and the phone was free as well. I'm now in the 21st Century, and it's okay so far.

So if you've been trying to contact me, this should explain why I've not been responding. Dull, I know, but there you have it.

Sightseeing Trip

As you are no doubt well aware, there is a ban on protesting within one mile of Parliament. Which is a shame, as there's rather a lot to protest about at the minute.

Handily, there's no ban on sightseeing, or having a walk around Parliament Square.

So, here's the plan. I shall be having a walk around Parliament Square on Saturday 28th June at about 1pm. I will be taking photos of Westminster and possibly being nostalgic about how we used to have a Government worthy of the name.

If you care to join me, that would be super.

No banners. No slogans. No chanting.

This is not a protest. This is a Revolution.

I am the Revolution and I want my fucking country back.