The key to progress: One step forward, two steps back

So holidays- this means noodles, pizza, chips, pasta, bread and cereal. It's not exactly the Hilton, but I'm coping. I'm a man who has got by with just about enough calories to do basic activities for most of my life. There's a few people still around. Quena is still around for another week and still struggling with her dissertation-sometimes she sounds like she's given up and everytime I go to see her she's lying in bed chilling with her cat. John is rarely seen around- he materialises now and again almost literally through the walls and then mumbles something and disappears again. Further down the corridor there's a chatty girl who never clears up after using the dishes until there is a colony of algae and an eco-system in the kitchen advanced enough to search for a signal of alien life in space. Only then does she wash up. I can sort of understand that thinking- ignore the problem and decide it never existed or at least ignore it until it stops seeking attention and goes away. I use it sometimes, but one thing it will never work on is dishes. Strangely enough I eventually turned into a neat person a few years ago- I can't stand dirty dishes and I have a phobia about eating on my bed. I can't leave my room in the morning before I've made the bed. What the hell happened to me? I cannot say I saw this coming when I was sixteen.
My sleeping patterns are also a bit strange- I sleep around 4 and then get up at midday. I stagger out of bed and wolf down some cereal while trying to make a plan for the day. The plan is always to go to the library and see what happens there. Sometimes it's reading, other times I find myself engaged in slightly less productive activities. Either way I have six weeks to fit these five modules into my brain or I am doomed. There will be time to panic- oh yes, that time will come make no mistake and I will panic with dignity- but not just yet. As long as I stay on track, I feel I should be fine. I tend to be optimistic and I've been trying to impart this to everyone I meet who is still around including Elly who was a week late with an essay and it was now due in three days and having not even started typing it up, she was understandably not wearing a party hat and hanging baloons. In such situations, optimism runs and hides but I said something that ended in 'you will do fine' although I suspect what I said before that optimistic conclusion probably didnt add up.
I now realize I shouldnt have missed The Green Wing when the first season run on channel 4 some months ago. Thankfully they've run the first season again since the second one will be one soon and it's a great show- a bit like Scrubs but much more surreal and sometimes almost wonderfully bizzare. However the characters are played to perfection and there are some choice lines ('Take this book on how to deal with difficult people and fuck off!')It's also been great to watch all the repeats of The Office on BBC2 and you just have to marvel at how good Ricky Gervais is as David Brent. Sometimes you have to watch through your fingers in horror because there's just so many scenes that could make you cringe. It's comedy that punishes you for watching but still makes you laugh. I love the Tim and Dawn relationship- from the word go, you can see they like each other a lot but they just can't get that lucky break and even while they are seeing other people, it's painfully obvious. You get that situation in movies all the time, but it's rarely as convincing as it is here. It's got the sweetest will-they-wont-they scenes I think I've ever seen. There is a kind of Romeo and Juliet thing going on but...erm..without the family feuds and the pretend funeral and the stabbings and the double suicide. You would think Romeo would wait a few more seconds before taking the poison- if I lost the love of my life and thought of suicide, I'd probably give it a bit more thought than the thirty seconds Romeo took to drink up. Infact its kind of weird that 'Romeo' is now used as a term for a suave, charming guy- what kind of example did he set for men?
Yeah I watch a lot of TV after 10pm, but I'm a late sleeper and I've put my hours of reading in so sue me.

Drogba and Jasper Gerrard: You have me as an enemy you twats

My usually divine Sunday Times experience was spoiled last night when I got to the back of the paper. Of course calling The Sunday Times a newspaper is like calling the Amazon a big pond- its massive, has about 100 sections and in all takes at least three wonderful hours to read. My life without it would be very problematic.
So spoiling this for me would take a bit of effort but Jasper Gerrard managed to do it with a few misguided lines in his colummn. He bashed Radiohead lead singer Thom Yorke for refusing to meet Tony Blair because Tony has been screwing up on his enviromental promises. Thom said Blair has been living in 'La-la land' which I think is accurate although it is a place that some might say is already overpopulated. Anyway Gerrard questioned Yorke's climatologist credentials and quoted some lyrics from the Radiohead song Myxamatosis ('my thoughts are misguided and a little naive')Using lyrics from a song Radiohead named after a Rabbit disease was Gerrard's incredibly stupid way of trying to tell us that Yorke did not know what he was talking about. He went further and said Yorke is 'just a cocky little rocker with a big gob' and said the real wonder is that Tony Blair wanted to meet him in the first place. Obviously the fact that Yorke is in a band automatically disqualifies him from making informed comments on topical issues? What a twat.
What did those lyrics have to do with Yorke's opinion? God knows celebrities have enough people to defend them, but I really hate the fact that everytime a celebrity has something to say on any topical issue he gets slaughtered. Yorke has been working with Friends of the Earth for years so one would assume he knows what he is talking about. Even if he doesn't, it certainly doesnt call for such a ridiculous and childish attack on him from this smug bastard. I'm not saying all this just because I think Radiohead is the greatest band on earth- I would also like to protest on behalf of Tony Robinson who also got slagged off in the same story. Gerrard said 'him of the cunning plan' which was an allusion to the fact that Robinson played a very stupid character in Blackadder, but what does that have to do with his views in the real world? Is he saying that playing a dumb character in a TV comedy means you can never be allowed to speak up in public about things you care about? I was hopping mad even though the entire article was about thirty lines. I shall go to sleep and hope that a vengeful ex-girlfriend kicks Mr Gerrard soundly in the nuts at some point in the near future.
Someone else who pissed me off last week was Didier Drogba, Chelsea's diving, cheating striker and the most unpleasant footballer we have seen in the Premiership in a few years. Drogba scored a goal aided by his hand the previous week and it was rightly disallowed. He did it again on Saturday and the ref missed it. In a painfully hilarious interview after the game (which will be remembered by any self-respecting football fan for years to come- the interview that is) Drogba admitted that he dived but then a few sentences later said no he didn't dive. It is an impressive feat to hold two contradicting ideas at the same time, but Drogba managed it and scientists will study him for years to come. He then said all the talk of cheating was aimed at Chelsea 'because we are the best'. No- it's because you are a bunch of cheating, diving bastards even though I like some of you. Joe Cole- marvelous player, but he dives so often he spends half the game on his ass. Arjen Robben- cheat, John Terry might be a defender, but with the number of times he's used his hands you would think he has been given special permission to be a second goalie. And the number one cheat is Drogba who went down as if shot on Saturday when the Manchester City player had barely touched him and he has been doing this so regularily of late. Why all the acting? I don't think there are any Holywood scouts watching and you are highly unlikely to win an Oscar nomination. It's so anoying especially considering a team as good as Chelsea dont need to cheat to win and this is why nearly the entire country hates them now. People like Drogba are spoiling football and I hope when we play them in the FA cup semi-finals, we can get Stevie.G to give him something to really cry about.

You have no faith in medicine

My relationship with tin openers has been a bit shaky.
I was standing in the kitchen trying to open a tin for my supper when John Powell walks in. I'm trying to open the tin with a knife. It's a very sharp knife, but it's still only a knife and to open the tin I have to jab downwards repeatedly trying to cut a hole in the tin. It's almost like trying to clear landmines with a spoon, but it was working until John walks in and sees me there.
He stands behind me watching. I can see him out of the corner of my eye while I struggle with the tin jabbing downwards and trying to twist it open. I guess that he could be thinking one of several things:
a)Okay- There's a black man in my kitchen with a sharp knife. Time to get the hell out of here.
b) What a thicko-can't even open a tin! And what on earth is he using?
"There's a tin opener in the drawer" He says after a few seconds and opens up the drawer and gives me the opener. I thank him, but it is not helping. A knife I can deal with- a tin opener might as well be a jet engine to me. He leaves and I struggle with the tin opener. I am not suprised to discover I do not know how to use it. Have I been opening tins with knives all this time? I go back to the knife an just stare helplessly at the tin opener.
John walks in later just as a I finally make a hole in the tin.
"Couldn't figure out how to use the opener eh?" He asks as he notices how badly opened the can is. I glare again at the tin opener but its not its fault.
All this brings me to Bob Dylan (well it doesn't but I've got here anyway) I like the man- he's made some amazing music and God knows almost everyone who picked up a guitar after 1970 was somehow influenced by him. However listening to him the other night I wondered why he never learned to sing. Oh, he tries but the man couldnt carry a tune in a bucket. I guess in a way it is part of his charm- amazing lyrics, wonderful guitar-playing and that strange, nasal voice.
But anyway what I also like about Dylan is the way he completely tried to reject any talk about being some kind of protest figure. He was singing songs in the 60's that got students out on the streets protesting and saying he was talking about them and giving the middle finger to the government. Dylan said he was just making music. But what about songs like The times they are a-changing Bob?
Rest of the world: Bob, you are a hero! In these tumultous times with the war in Vietnam and the march for civil rights, you are saying the things everyone is trying to put into words! You are our leader! A hero!
Dylan: Fuck off.
That was the conversation that went on then and in a sense is still going on now. Dylan completely refuses the mantle that's been given to him as a protest icon and yet continues to this day to sing songs that make it obvious that is what he really is. He's a stubborn man our Bob.

Chakrabati and dealing with a very post-modern dream

A very worrying sign that my work had recently taken over my life- and I mean taken over in the evil-alien-body-controlling-way- was when Shami Chakrabati appeared in my dream a few days ago.
Shami Chakrabati is the director of Liberty which is a human rights group. Everytime there is an issue that relates to human rights and the fight against terrorism, she's called upon to remind us that yes, Tony Blair is screwing us so hard we should claim half his assets. She's on TV and in the papers quite frequently reminding us that we are losing our rights because this government is using the war on terror to take them all away. This is what my writing credit is on-all 5,000 words of it- and I've been working on it for the last two months. Still, it was a major shock to see Mrs Chakrabati not only wander into my dream-possibly more confused than I was as to what she was doing there- but she started saying all the things she says on TV. Should I have been taking notes? Because she said a lot of sensible things as she always does in real life.
But a truly weird dream I had about two weeks ago was the dream-within-a-dream which had never happened to me before. I dreamt that I was at a party having a decent time(the details of which escape me)and then I 'woke up' and realized I had been dreaming and I was lying in bed. I was still thinking this over when I woke up yet again and this time for real. I realized that my time at the party had been a dream inside my original dream and the first time I woke up, I had still been dreaming. Basically I dreamt that I dreamt that I dreamt. How freaky is that?

Peacock and enigma: a bittersweet tale

Aaaah holidays- you always creep up on me like a Ninja.
I got lost on my way to the jazz club on Thursday night and I also sort of got lost on my way back. However by then I had had four pints of beer and I was ready for anything the world was ready to throw at me. Thankfully it was too busy throwing these things at everyone else because it left me alone.
And I think it's a bad idea for a black man to ask a stranger for directions at 9.pm. I stopped a woman and asked her how to get to the jazz club and she looked a bit wary. Then her husband-who was a few meters behind- drew her closer and without even hearing what place I was looking for barked out 'Sorry-we don't know' and virtually dragged her away. This was not in some dark alley but right next to a main road. He had a heavy accent which suggested that he was from Eastern Europe or maybe 'Dickheadland' and dammn that bastard for making me feel as if I was a criminal. Ironically it was an Englishman who helped right afterwards- this smartly dressed guy with a shiny briefcase told me that although he wasn't quite sure where the jazz club was, he knew where it might be. His tip turned out to be correct. Good luck to you Mr Shiny Briefcase man.
It was a fun party though. I had a series of interesting conversations but for the first thirty minutes or so I was just standing at the bar watching everything which was amusing and interesting enough as it was. This probably made me look a bit anti-social and I was already sort of standing out because I was wearing a suit which strictly speaking was not a 'Las Vegas theme'. (One of these two reasons probably explains why some girl I have never seen before suddenly stuck a camera in my face and took my picture) A few characters were a bit less obvious but still recognizable(I saw someone I know dressed as Hunter.S.Thompson and couldnt resist telling him "As your attorney I advise you to drink more alcohol." His eyes lit up and he said "yeah-thats it!") There were Roman emperors, sailors, brides and of course gangsters-there were so many medallions in that room it looked like a 50 cent poker night and I was the only black man minus the bouncer.
When the moment comes Kip says You've got to make sure you don't let it go
Reminisced about the glory days of Mccalister and Owen in 2001, Radiohead, freaking out on final year and other odds and ends.
And on my way back, I realized I wasnt quite sure if I was on the right track, but I just kept walking on until I saw the 'To town center' sign. It was bitingly cold, but I didnt really care. I wandered in not so elegantly and knocked on Rich's door where I found everyone just settling down to watch a film. By the time I got back to my room around 2.30, I was still feeling a bit woozy. I put The Bends in my CD player, lay on the floor and mouthed the words to High and Dry

Nearer to thee my dear hobnob

Yes the stories are true- I did in fact wear a suit last night. The reason for this was the Easter formal dinner which I attended in my capacity as...well, myself. I only got one glass of wine which I was grumpy about for the next few hours, but the dinner was wonderful and I was in good company so it was all good. We had a few humorous speeches, the sudden appearance of the Easter bunny and a very painful singalong by everyone in the hall by a song which the warden passed around claiming it had been written in 1897. If this was true, the chap who wrote it had clearly had too much to drink because the song was a lot more of a war song than one for a university hall. What was this 'onward to victory' business? Wer'e doing exams not fighting the bloody vikings.
Anyway I run into Adam on my way out of the hall and he grabbed me by the arm and gave me a half-apology ('maybe I shouldnt have been so angry although I was partly-justified')We met again when I was downstairs playing pool and this time it became a more detailed apology basically saying he had taken out his anger on Quena out on the rest of us. I said that was cool and the bastard beat me in pool when I potted the white and black at the same time. He walked out saying he had beaten 'Team Quena' which was annoying to hear. It's as if Quena is in a rock band and the rest of us are her groupies or something, but we've basically made up now so I shall forgive him that. He made about four different apologies which got increasingly more earnest the more drunk he became. He also went around telling everyone how over Quena he was. When you claim to be over someone and you spend every five minutes telling everyone next to you I AM OVER HER again and again, people are going to think...well, you aren't really, are you? Stop talking so much about her then. I myself didnt really have much to drink although I will forever remember the shot Leo handed to me- it was like drinking paraffin and then tossing a burning matchstick down your throat. I walked around gasping and trying to breathe for about two minutes. Leo just had an evil grin on his face- at least it looked evil. For the first few seconds, I could only see the world through a layer of tears so perhaps it was merely concern on his part. I eventually recovered enough to continue my participation in the festivities. Leo meanwhile ended up accidentally elbowing a girl on the dancefloor and then accidentally kicked another one after being jokingly pushed backwards by a friend. With his kind of luck, he could have got rabies from a plastic rabbit.
Prison Break- jumping jupiter, this is getting incredibly good and much more dark than I had thought it would ever be. Now it turns out the Vice-president is in the mix and people are dying left, right and center. Vice-President and the secret service vs. two guys in jail? It's quite a mismatch.
Writing credit now done and I'm going to clear up this dammn English history essay at some point tonight. Then I can finally get to have some fun- read for my exams. I'm really looking forward to that, life is not going to get any better....

Putting the shizzle back in the nizzle

Another night out. What I remember from it was nice. My clearest memory was sitting on my own upstairs in the restaurant at around 1.am eating chips and cheese. In what is becoming a recurring nightmare on my nights out, there was no ketchup but I did find one on my table and I remember squeezing it so hard looking for every last drop of the ketchup that I must have made an amusing sight and possibly pathetic sight.
But anyway the night had started with half of a strongbow bottle before I got there. By the time I reached the club, I was a happy camper. Then the usual confusion. Knocked back a few more pints when I got there, found myself in the unusual position of being enthusiastic enough to dance to techno. Talked to a friend upstairs who kept saying "I love you Minega" over and over again. She was very drunk so I can only assume those sentiments will be re-assesed when she eventually sobers up. Then I remember talking to someone else who was giving me advice on what to wear for a Las Vegas theme party someone in my class is having next week. My question was a simple one: What on earth is a Las-Vegas theme? All I think of when I think of that is Elvis. Can a black man really pull that off? The answer of course is no. Anyway she said something about wearing a large gold medallion and a suit. Much of everything else was lost in the mists of time and that place where conversations powered on alcohol go to retire quietly.

And next afternoon- watch Arsenal beat Liverpool 2-1. It was a dire performance and we didnt deserve anything from the game. Still it was sickening to concede a late goal and after a howler from Mr reliable and my favourite footballer Steven Gerrard. Oh, Stevie.G- you of all people? After being eliminated from the Champions league earlier in the week, things are looking ever more grim by the day. Seriously Rafa- get rid of Morientes, Cisse and Traore that total waste of space. Boot Garcia out while your'e at it. Then get Mellor back and sign another decent striker and for God's sake stop playing Crouch as your only recognized striker. Things are looking quite grim right now and its going to be a blot on my week.

As for the Adam situation, although i found it amusing at first- and it still is to a great degree- I've decided that I'm not going to worry about him any more because he's just a prick. I'm not his babysitter and if he thinks so little of me just because I dont sit with him at dinner, well then that's really his kettle of fish. It's funny because the past few weeks I'd actually been wondering about him and thinking I really should go see him, but to suddenly be treated like a criminal because of something so petty is something I resent. The day after he gave his little speech, I ended up right behind him in the queue for dinner and it was quite awkward. We didnt say anything to each other and it was at that moment I realized I shouldnt have just sat there and took his shit. I felt really sorry for him for so long, but my views are hardened now and I've decided he can go fuck himself.

Expression of the week: "This shit is bitching to the max"-Rama.

"Standing here with something else to say"

Music I've bought/copied recently:

Ali Farka Toure: Talking Timbuktu- One of the greatest-possibly THE greatest- musicians Africa has ever had- died a few days ago which was a shocker. This has some excellent material and I'm definitely going to track down all the rest of his stuff. It's African blues and its fantastic.
White Stripes: Elephant Strange to think I only discovered them a few weeks ago because I already feel I've been listening to them for ages. I'd only heard one song before- Seven nation Army with that very famous bassline- and I thought they were overrated but my goodness, after only two listens the album knocked me out and I usually need a few more than that. There is no home for you here, I want to be the boy, The air near my fingers and You've got her in your pocket are particular highlights. They're heavily inspired by blues and it shows in their rock-blues style. And its just the two of them! How the hell do they do it? This made walking in the rain on Monday so much more bearable.
Jill Scott: Who is Jill Scott?- Although I think this album is still inferior to Beautifully Human that says more about that album than this one because this is glorious. Highlights are probably Slowly, surely and Getting in the way. Not a single weak song on this album and one that's already doing a great job at keeping up my spirits in this time of constant work and absolutely miserable weather. Your'e a legend Jill.
Miles Davis: On the Corner- I'm on a mission to own everything he's ever done which is a tall order because there must be at least fifty albums out there, many of which were released after his death. Not just the greatest jazz musician of all time but one of THE greatest musicians ever. This must be maybe my tenth Miles CD and all have been completely worth it. This one is completely unlike anything else he has done- it's a lot more funky and at times it doesn't sound like conventional jazz at all.
Gorillaz: Demon Days The great singles released from the album- Feel Good inc , Dirty Harry and Dare prepared me for what awaited me here and its good stuff. No two songs sound alike and yet they all have a similar thing going on there that you can't put your finger on. Utterly unique and for a 'cartoon band', it's quite an accomplishment. Damon Albarn I salute you. Aside from the marvellous singles, another standout from the album is All alone which features Roots Manuva, England's greatest MC. You can't even classify this music-its a kind of rock-pop-techno hybrid that is absolutely delightful.

Ambush at 1.am: just when you thought it was safe to leave your room...

Walking to the computer room after midnight to work on my essay I notice Adam is sitting out there in the quad with Nathan. Both are wearing suits.
"Sit down Minega" Adam says pulling a chair for me and refering to me as 'my beloved friend'. I mention this because in light of what happened over the next twenty minutes, that expression was clearly meant to be sarcastic. He's just got back from the boat party with a James Bond theme thus the suit. He is thoroughly drunk and not done drinking just yet. We make idle chit-chat for a while and then Adam suddenly asks why we have all been ignoring him.
"It's been four weeks since I got back from Cambridge" He says "And no one- not you, not Vid, not Rich- have knocked on my door to see me. Not one of you has come to sit with me at dinner."
And then he starts off a slurred speech about the way we've all decided to stick with Quena and treat him like shit and he just goes on and on. Nathan tells him he's acting like a selfish jerk and then gets up and leaves so I'm stuck there with Adam. I try to defend myself and reassure him that we haven't all decided to gang up on him and that no, we dont think he's shit.
"Well you do" He insists and he is being completely serious "How many times have you guys been hanging out with Quena? Everyday, all the time. How many times have you come to see me or sat with me in the last four weeks? Not one. I had all these people I thought were my friends...."
He's not really listening to me, our drunk friend. What's worse he is raising his voice. We are sitting out in the quad and people can almost certainly hear him.
And even worse, he goes back to the Quena breakup thing "I know you guys are closer to her and all that but...the fact that you just accepted the way she treated me...she treated me like SHIT! And you all just said 'well, there's nothing we can do'How can you hang out with someone who treats a friend of yours in that way? At the end of the day I really loved her, and you can't compare our actions and say 'oh Adam was an asshole and Quena was a bitch' she was the one totally wrong!"
I explain, but it's a waste of time. The guy has made up his mind.
"You guys have all decided I mean nothing to you..it's obvious. Your'e talking about being busy, but being too busy to give me a knock for a few seconds just shows you don't give a shit- that's the only conclusion any sensible person would draw"
He saves his best for last. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he says "Well it doesn't really matter. At the end of the day, Quena is shit, you are shit, Vid is shit and Rich is shit. You all mean nothing to me and that's all there is to it"
And then he turns around and makes probably the most ungraceful exit in history.
This is not going to be his finest moment.

...but there's just so much, you really don't know about me

There is a new film in the pipeline called Snakes on a Plane. Am I looking forward to it? Of course I am- what the hell kind of question is that? First it's got Samuel.L.Jackson who is probably the coolest actor of all time. Secondly it has a fantastic title. Thirdly it sounds wonderfully stupid. Not like Van Helsing which was just shit but stupid-funny. Jackson even went as far as to say he would quit the film if they changed the title.
How is this for the plot: a guy wants to kill a witness in the protection programme so he smuggles a crate onto the plane the witness is flying on. The crate is full of poisonous snakes which will then be released onto the plane. If you have ever travelled on a plane, you may have noticed that neither the flight attendants nor the instruction manuals tell you what to do in the event of an attack by a group of poisonous snakes while you are on a plane. This movie should give you some valuable tips. They've got my £4.90, the bastards.

Tonight at dinner: Tona asks if I still talk to my ex-girlfriend. I tell her that I don't.
"That's bad" She says looking genuinely gutted.
I explain to her that people break up and stop speaking to each other. It happens all the time and is hardly what I would call 'bad'- it just is.
"Minega would never admit that something was bad" Teta says "He just can't. If I dropped dead right now, he would probably stand around saying 'well at least she lived until she was 21'"

Momentary panic attack yesterday afternoon: Crap, how on earth am I going to be able to deal with all three essays in the space of three weeks? I'm on track for all of them- and I'm done with criminology- but the pressure is enormous and sits arrogantly on my shoulder like a pampered monkey wearing a fez and pulling your ear. It passes after consultation with a friend in the same situation, some coffee and Radiohead and Miles Davis. I normally pride myself on being cool under pressure so it was interesting to watch how I reacted when I did finally freak out. Disappointingly this only involved saying 'fuck' every five seconds and pacing up and down my room. It was a bit of an anti-climax really.
The thing is, panic paralyzes you. You could literally sit in your room all day trying to plan how to cope with your work when in reality the best way to cope with it is to be out there actually working on the bloody thing. Tommy.B was talking to us the other day about the way he missed key deadlines for his coursework "Sometimes I just wonder- what's the point?" He says.

Advice of the week from Louis: "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If life gives you bananas, make banana wine.

Natalie Portman: are we star-crossed strangers?

I have a theory that Natalie Portman is the cutest person on earth. Now some people might object to this, but dammnit this is my blog so go somewhere else. Here Natalie Portman is the cutest person on earth and I take that as cold hard fact. You either agree with me or you remain wrong. Either way is fine with me.
I only bring this up because a few hours ago I watched a video of Natalie on Saturday Night Live actually rapping in what is probably the funniest thing I've seen all year. She was absolutely hilarious. The song itself has plenty of interesting language-(sample: 'What do you want Natalie?' 'To drink and fight' 'what do you want Natalie?' 'To fuck all night')-lots of violence (including nearly beating up a little kid asking for an autograph)and an overall kick-ass attitude that just made me admire her more. It's really, really funny and quite obscene.
But seriously Natalie, say the word and I'll go get us a priest. I promise I'll never leave the toilet seat up and I'll cook dinner every other day.
Link- http://www.devilducky.com/media/42822
On a somewhat unrelated note, I would like to highly recommend a film called Van Helsing The reason I am doing this is because it is quite possibly the worst film to have been released in the new millenium-infact it might be the worst film I have ever seen in my life. Honestly its sheer badness, its complete and utter brain-dead stupidity is a wonder to behold. I felt almost like those Nazi soldiers who opened the ark of the covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark. What a bad, bad, bad film. It's a pity because it sounded quite interesting, but the plot, the dialogue, THOSE ACCENTS....this really must be seen to be believed. Honestly you will want to watch it again right afterwards just to convince yourself that this isn't some kind of joke by a twelve year old living in a basement and subsisting only on crisps and red bull. Infact, it got so awful, so incredibly unbearable that I ended up enjoying it even though it meant completely switching off my brain to prevent it melting like a chocolate in a microwave. Please see this film. I can't even pick out specific bits because that would be every single scene in the film. it takes talent to make a film this bad. I am in awe of you, Stephen Sommers.

Moksha* delayed

Yes, some people have never heard of bean weevils.
"What are weevils man?" Quena asks blinking at me in confusion. I'm talking about my early days at Rwanda International Academy and the first time I had the rice and beans only to discover that the beans contained certain unwanted guests.
Telling the story brought the memories rushing back uninvited and not necessarily welcome. I remember standing there with my large container for something like twenty minutes before I get to the front and the cook scoops a huge lump of rice and some very hot beans and tossed them in my general direction. There was very little aim or gentleness on his part and the meal could easily have ended up on my trousers or out of the window if I hadn't caught it with the container.
So I sit down on my own with my meal and as I put my fork in I realized that one of the beans had something in it. There was a hole and a very dead small insect. Hmm, it could be worse I remember thinking and removed the bean. I tried to start again and saw another weevil in another bean. I tossed that aside as well and it was only after about three minutes that I realized that all the beans had a similar affliction and if I carried on like this I was going to be a very busy man indeed for the next few minutes. What's more, I was going to be a very hungry one. When I told this to my friend Dennis, he laughed until tears came into his eyes. He was literally laughing about it for days- the idea that I was trying to discard beans with weevils in them....
This was the story I told at lunchtime when I subsequently discovered that the concept of bean weevils was an alien one.
"And there you are complaining about the food" Vid says turning to scold Quena whose catch-phrase has become "this good s disgusting!". I could be mistaken, but I think she looked at her food with a lot more respect afterwards. I'm on a mission to restore a sense of perspective-unpaid.
And Vid says "No wonder you're so skinny!"
I try to explain that on the contrary, the weevils provided much needed proteins so if anything I did not eat enough of them. The looks of horror on their faces makes me realize that the nutritional value of bean weevils is not a topic we are going to look back on with any fondness or nostalgia.

"There's a monkey sanctuary in Cornwall" Quena says.
The Monkey- natures' clown. If anyone is saving them, then that can only be good. The world needs monkeys.
But Vid has another perspective and goes on a wonderful five minute rant: "I think they should be put down humanely...you think they enjoy being there- they've been taken out of the jungle and put in cages where people can poke and make fun of them...there's no point in that...and the people who run the sanctuary are probably just hippie druggies...they take the money from visitors and just use it to buy more drugs..I don't see the point, put down the monkeys or release them into the wild"
Very inspiring stuff.
Vid's talk about putting the monkeys' down reminded me of a funny story Tommy.B. recounted at dinner last night.
He once watched a man kill a cow.
"He walked up to the cow like he was trying to sneak up on it" He said "And then suddenly he grabbed the cow in a headlock, pulled a big hammer out of his pocket and bashed it on the head. That was it- I couldn't believe my eyes!"
I'm no expert but surely there are easier ways to kill a cow than this? The image of a farmer grabbing a cow in a headlock and trying to bash its brains out with a hammer is just...well,funny.I was laughing fairly hard and Quena was giving me a mean look.
"That's not funny Minega" She said "That's not funny at all"
A cow in a headlock not funny?

late night TV

If you stay up to 4am like I do every night, you can get trapped in the surreal world of late-night TV.
The Jeremy Kyle show: I can only watch this in ten-minute periods because it is quite honestly disturbing. It's like Jerry Springer with an extra creepiness factor. Kyle gets the usual dregs of humanity- MY HUSBAND HAD AN AFFAIR AND MOVED IN WITH HIS MISTRESS BUT WE STILL HAVE SEX AND NOW SHE WANTS HIM BACK AND SO DO I- and tries to sort out their problems when in fact Jesus himself would tear out his hair trying to deal with them. What stands out in this show is the fact that the host himself is the most disturbing person on the show. I'm not saying Jeremy Kyle is the anti-Christ-there's too many people competing for that competition in the 21st century and some have smarter suits- but you get the feeling that the man is evil and if you sprinkled holy water on him, he would probably scream and melt before your eyes. It doesn't matter how many dodgy people he brings on, Kyle is always the one who makes you want to hide under the covers or change the channel. He is just so creepy and devious and insincere that the show should come with an 18 rating. Honestly It's a wonder I dont get bad dreams after watching this.
Dr Tatiana's sex Guide to all creation: I've seen this before, but watching the re-runs on channel 4 makes me realize that this is one of the maddest things that has ever been put on TV even by channel 4 standards. The concept is an exploration of the weird sex lives of other creatures in the animal kingdom and trust me there is some weird shit going on out there. The show doesn't hold back with its vision-they get people to dress up as the creatures being discussed and then talk to Dr Tatiana to tell her their problems and then Dr Tatiana addresses the cameras and explains that yes ladybirds are sluts and some marine slugs are haemephrodites and many primates are bisexual and you wouldn't even believe what that wasp is up to. You get scenes like a chat-show full of people with painted faces pretending to be various animals and insects cheering and booing- its absolutely insane. There has been nothing quite like it since and I've got to give Dr Tatiana kudos for supervising this madness and almost keeping a straight face.
BBC News 24: From midnight onwards, BBC 2 presents the news all night and it reminds you that if the world hasn't quite gone down the toilet yet, it is at least trying its dammn best to cram itself down that hole and has got its hands firmly on the flush handle. Bombings, bird flu, corruption, murder, global warming...it's all going wrong and not in that cool film-thriller way. A friend of mine once said she doesn't watch or read news because its so depressing. She had a point- after a few minutes of this kind of coverage, you start looking longingly around the room for something to strangle yourself with. The newsreaders don't make things any better- at least smile woman! The world might be going to hell in a handbasket but thats no excuse to look so glum. Save that expression for when bird flu comes to get you.
Quizmania:What the hell is this about? I still don't quite know. Everytime I tune in to ITV after 1am, its always on and there's a middle-aged man with glasses, flashing numbers and colours and I just can't figure it out. Is this show exclusively for people who are high on mushrooms? Do you need so many flashing lights and bright colours?

"You forget so easily"

It snowed today.
The whole thing lasted about twenty minutes, but for that time, we were treated to a spectacular show of what nature can do when she gets off the sofa. Outside the hall looked absolutely beautiful and people were standing around taking pictures and trying to enjoy the moment while they still could. It's a pity it passed so fast although the quad was still covered in a blanket of snow much later. Snow is a beautiful thing as long as you aren't knee-deep in it everyday.

Today at the library while grappling with International law I suddenly thought of some guy I know- which came completely out of the blue. How I met him is one of those only-from-club stories. One time long ago walking back from club drunk and having been separated from my friends, I realized after a few minutes that I wasnt on my own but that I was instead talking to some stranger who was walking the same way as me. We got separated later on, but we run into each other a few times after that so I sort of knew him. Anyway I hadn't seen him or thought of him in months but he somehow just popped in my mind. About twenty minutes later, I pack up and go to the uni shop to buy the paper and guess who I run into? That was a bit creepy and it happens to me now and again. It makes you marvel at that kind of coincidence.

Playlist:
-You and whose army?
-Black cow
-Go to sleep
-In the cold, cold night
-Sulk
-It's true that we love one another
-Seven nation army

Linda Smith- R.I.P.