Monday, January 31, 2011

An Ode to a Lump of Concrete Full of Squishy Meatbags

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I just looked out my window and looked upon the familiar, nay, aethereal glow of Bristol in the distance, and it gives me a sort of comfort. Whatever darkness dwelling denizens of the dreary my mind may fabricate during the night, I can stay safe in the knowledge that life still exists out there. Bristol is my life line, my miner's canary. So thank you Bristol, for while you might recieve some hate from your aclimatised populus, you have a place in my heart. You gave me Trip-Hop, the original 2 series of Skins. You gave me memories I shall forever cherish and friends that I doubt I will fast forget.

But most importantly you give me advanced warning for when the whatever apocalypse/uprising eventually gets underway. Keep those lights lit, people.

Yours ever watching the skyline for plumes of smoke,


^ This guy           

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Sunday, January 30, 2011

My First Android Borne Blog

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My mum just called my dad as we were refueling the boat, to ask how we were doing.
"We lost control and were swept into the canal. We're on our way to the ocean. The next time you see us we will have beards and suntans."
My dad is awesome.
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Friday, January 28, 2011

The Diary Of James (Acoustic Version)

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Finally, my exams are over, well, at least until the summer exam season. Rather considerately a cold decided to hold off until they were over. I was in my last exam, physics, and I could feel my throat getting rougher. It was like the cold was peering over my shoulder as I discussed gravitational fields and capacitors whispering "I've played nice kid. I've been fair. Now it's time to pay your dues."

But I have created a concoction involving paracetamol crushed to a cocaine like consistency mixed into a warm squash drink, so I press on. Yeah, I have a cold, whatever. Exams are over, I think I did pretty well and that's damn a sweet feeling to have. Got started on the next physics unit already, and that's pretty awesome. But more to the point, it's good news for you pokemon fans. Already I am restarting my writing and planning of events to come. Some time at the start of February (after two of my players have done their psychology exams) sessions will restart, and that means more recordings, more laughs, and a new player! Excitement.


Anyway, hopefully with exams out the way updates will return as normal. Scratch that. Hopefully updates will maintain some semblence of consistency. That said, I've never maintained a blog this long without quitting, so that's a positive. Since this wasn't much of an update, per se, I suppose some kind of complimentary present is in order. So here's an old picture of me apparently looking like David Tennant.

Careful observers will see a guy in a yellow Star Trek uniform in the background.


Have a good week.
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Monday, January 17, 2011

Stream of Consciousness

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Why am I here? I don't know. I'm feeling down, and that usually means I'll try to write something, give up and leave it to the purgatory that is my blog's drafts page. Will this one go the same way? Probably.

I'm kind of stuck you see. There are things I want to say, but the people I want to say them to I can't trust with what I want to say, and the ones who I can trust don't have any relevance to what I want to say, making telling them about as helpful as keeping it all bottled up. I don't even have the returning reader count to feel like I'm telling people online things, because of the ridiculous restrictions I placed on myself at the start of this blog. If I break them then I feel like a hypocrite, and if not then I fail to see what can be achieved by this blog that can't be acheived by posting on Facebook.

Do I make a new blog? One I can pour my self indulgent rants into without fear of reprisal? Just keep this one as a posting place for my various non emotive activities? Certainly I like having somewhere to keep all my pokemon posts. That is something that is really special to me right now and I like pretending that I'm sharing it with the world.

But that won't work. you see, I am horribly objective. The moment I feel anything that seems like it might be negative I rationalise it and store it away. It's just automatic now. This often means that whenever I try to write something emotional, fiction or non, I can't. Especially non fiction which tends to be met with the thoughts "Everyone feels like this, you aren't special" or "This is just self righteous teenage BS". This is something of a stumbling block, for someone who a few non pokemon posts ago swore he would be something approaching the literary equivilant of the messiah.

Lots of things are happening in my mind and I can't sort them out without a good long period of self reflection or something, generally something I don't have time for. If everyone is feeling like this, then no wonder the teenage depression rate is so high. Everyone I meet seems to have had some trouble with it at some point or another. Or maybe that's just the crowd I'm drawn towards.

Look at these people. Bastions of misery, all.

Ah, here we go. The self righteous teenager thoughts return. "you haven't suffered" Well of course I fucking haven't. I'm a teenager from a relatively well off family, a family who are comparatively less fucked up than others I have known. Does that make my thoughts any less valid? "Yes." Well fuck you, me. "And no feeling sorry for yourself. You're not allowed to do that either."

I can't even feel guilty, lest I feel guilty for feeling guilty.

I have just noticed my continued use of the word teenager. I suppose that might be a problem. I have been kept back 2 years in order to redo my A Levels. I am stuck in the mindset of an A Level student when by rights I should have moved out a year and a half ago, to go to Godknowswhereingham University, learn the things I want to learn in an environment that will force me to work and think for myself. Then again I wouldn't have met some of the people I met in Bristol, and I honestly think that I am better off for having met them. This isn't sentimentalism. Objective, remember? The people in my old 6th form were so...How to explain it? Churchill was essentially isolated. There was no variety. It was all the same people, the same surroundings, the same convenience store/post office down the road. The same incestuous groups of friends that would end up fucking one another eventually, the same dramas between those friends replaying themselves over and over, becoming more predictable than an Eastenders storyline. The same underage serving pub where everyone met on occasion, and that worked for me. But when I fucked up there and went to CoBC, I realised how much more there was out there. I was the less-ignorant-than-most country boy coming to the big city. It was exciting. There were no boundries. No fence marking out the school boundries. No, this was a college, and I could go where I wanted. Hungry? No 6th form common room cafeteria and their paninis for you, no sir. I could go to Subway, I could go to cafes, I could go to god damned Tesco. Hell, it was an entire year before I even felt the desire to check out the college canteen. Bored? Screw trying to pry the network key from the incompetent IT guys, navigating the school network to get on the internet, before meeting an Orwellian filtering system. No, instead I offer you 3 words my friend:

This symbol was a beacon of hope in a dark and unforgiving world.


There are buildings and businesses devoted to serving you food and hot drinks, while letting you roam the internet to your unfiltered will.

And oh wow, the DRAMAZ. Churchill's isolation meant that any trouble was concentrated into this tiny area, and you simply couldn't escape. I broke up with a girl, and it took 2 weeks of spending my free time in the LRC before I felt comfortable enough going back into the common room, whereupon I would be glared at by teams of girls for a further 2-3 weeks. I know, I broke up with this lovely girl and obviously I was going to be the bad guy for a while. That's fine, you know, that's the formula that has persisted in teen society for years now. But I can't help but feel that if there was more dispersal, then the result would have been less intense. If there are more places to hang out, more different friend groups to hang out with until the heat dies down, then it's easier to handle that kind of thing. I was by no means the worst of it. The best analogy I can use is one of my favourite games, Dorf Fortress (Dwarf Fortress, to the layman). In this you lead a team of dorfs to create and populate a fortress. There is huge depth and such like that there is simply no space to put here. Basically, much like The Game (Oh, grow up), you can be winning, but you cannot win, and there are many many ways to lose. One of these is the dorfan tantrum spiral. The link leads to an example, but in short, something happens to make Dorf A unhappy, he tantrums, and kills Dorf B's cat. This pisses Dorf B off enough have a tantrum, who breaks Dorf C's stuff, who tantrums and punches Dorf D and Dorf A who had just finished his previous tantrum, and both tantrum, etc etc etc. This could be simulated, however in a much less lethal scale, in the Churchill 6th Form Common room. Person A pisses off Person B. In the city Person B could go cool off somewhere else, but in Churchill, there is nowhere else. So Person B is forced to get angrier and angrier until they do something in anger or retaliation, like sleep with someone's boyfriend, pissing of Person A and/or C. This is what I spent 2 years of my life trying to avoid, and one of many reasons why when Churchill is brought up around me I will darken in mood and grumble obsenities. I gained some great friends at Churchill, ones that I wish I talked to more, and hope they know how much they still mean to me. But there was a lot of shit at Churchill that looking back from this new perspective I don't want to get into, and really want to forget.

I have deviated from the main point somewhat, and I'm not sure I can find my way back. I'm not even sure there was a main point to begin with. This has been something of a stream-of-consciousness post that I think I shall put an end to here. I won't spellcheck. You can read it in it's original sleep deprived form. Maybe I'll put some pictures in. Please, do tell me if this is a posting style that you would like to see more of.

Night.

P.S. There shouldn't be anything in this post to offend anyone. If there is, it's probably just poor phrasing brought on by the fact that I am still awake at roughly 3 in the morning.
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Saturday, January 1, 2011

32nd December

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0038 James: "Holy shit! there's Relentless!"

0054 Tom: "The less time between having sex, the laster you long."

0058 Oscar: "I'm so good I don't masturbate, I Master-bate."

0138 James: "We've had a colorful past."
Char (To Oscar): "I didn't know you slept with a black man!"

0234 Tom: "I can't dance for shit."
Oscar: "I can't shit for dance."

0248: Tom: "Is Dave under the table?"
Ellie: "That's what I've been thinking for the last half hour."

0255 James: Everybody get on the floor. Walk the dinosaur.



1130 Ellie: "What day is it?"
Char: "32nd December."
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