This Is This

The Buddhists got the Outlook,
and Christians have the Word,
and Muslims use the Powerpoint,
so why are Jews the nerds?

Only joking. One love.

Still with the this

Are there any parks near your home?
There are several big parks near me. I live on the Buck/Berks borders, so I’ve got Burnham Beeches, Windsor Great Park and Virginia Water, which are all really nice.

Describe each room of your home.
No. Oh, OK. They all have 24 hour surveillance and are patrolled by wild dogs with knives and troubled pasts.

Do you like the place where you are living? Why or why not?
Yes, because it is nice.

Do you like to keep pets in your home?
Pair of cats, two fish and a pug. Pugs are wild. Full house.

How have you changed your home since you’ve started living there?
Tons, it keeps changing. I have added rooms, taken rooms away, changed the floor, taken out a bathroom, built closets - loads.

How long have you lived where you are living now?
About ten years.

How many different homes have you lived in?
About twelve in all.

Which one did you like the best? Why?
I like the one I’m in because it’s home.

Which one did you like the least? Why?
There was one house where thing after shitty thing went wrong, so I associate it with the house a bit. Robberies, assault, natural disasters, fraud, abuse and disfunction. Even the weather unseasonably sucked.

How many rooms are there in your house?
Enough.

How much is your rent? (Some people may not consider this to be a polite question.)
I own it.

If you could change anything about your present home, what would it be?
I could do with a more room, but I’m happy.

Is your home in a convenient location?
Yes. It’s right where I go to sleep.

What changes would you like to make to your home?
None. I tend to be convinced into change, but it’s always for the best, so I should be more trusting.

What is in your bedroom?
A bed, a tv, closet, usual stuff.

What things in your home couldn’t you live without?
Spoons.

What things in your house could you easily live without?
Bathrobes. I never use them.

What’s your favorite room?
The conservatory. It’s like the lyrics to In My Room. (In Myyyyy Rooooooooooooooooom). Although it always sounded kind of creepy, that song.

Where would your dream home be?
High up.

What would it be like inside and out?
Lots of open space but somewhere to duck away to every now and then.

Which room do you spend the least time in?
The kids’ rooms.

Which room do you spend the most time in?
The bedroom.

Who are your neighbours?
They are a nice retired couple.

Do you get along well with your neighbors?
Yes.

How well do you know them?
Not great, which suits me ok.

What have you done with your neighbors?
Nothing. They were right there when I left this morning.

Who lives with you? / Who do you live with?
Two kids, wife and aforementioned pets.

Would you prefer to live in a house or an apartment? Why?
House or a very private apartment.

Is every house a home?
No.

What makes ‘a house’ into ‘a home’?
The spirit of belonging.

Have you ever been homesick?
Yes. I went to boarding school and before that lived in different countries. I’ve been homesick so much I nearly forgot where home was.

What is the color of your front door?
White.

What kind of housing would you prefer?
Affordable.

What is your dream house?
In the words of Julie London, one that’s filled with joy and laughter and the ones I love inside.

Could you build a house for yourself? How would you do it? (you cannot have a builder help you)
I probably could. I have built walls and laid slabs and fitted doors, so it’s just a matter of windows and a roof, so I’d give it a go.

How could you live without electricity? Could you make your own electricity? How?
Yes, I think so. I’d miss it. I couldn’t make my own electricity, no.

How can houses be made more environmentally friendly?
They should have less plastic in them and be more fuel-efficient.

What would be important to consider when designing a city? Was your city planned? Describe a perfect city.
I think it’s important to have green areas and a clear layout, and nice architecture. And build it by nature, or a river or some place to go. London with less complicated streets, New York with more parks, Paris without poo or all the fucking attitude.

Imagine you have arrived in a country where they don’t speak your language. You have no money or friends there. What would you do for accommodation?
I’d call a friend and get some money and check into a hotel. I’ve worked hard and been a decent enough person to have that privilege.

Give some reasons why people become homeless.
Lack of employment and a series of hard knocks.

What problems do home owners have? What can they do about them?
Bills are getting expensive.

How important is security? How do you make a house secure?
Very important. If you can’t feel safe at home, you’re not settled.

I’ve been exercising lately, part of the Me Nazi programme I have embarked upon. Hopefully if I benefit then others will too, but I’ve also realised that it’s not going to happen unless I make it.

As a part of getting a bit healthier, and of course me being me, a lot of this involves looking stuff up about doing the thing. Something that’s written a lot about is the links between depression and exercise and how it helps blahblahblah because if you look and feel good, then you’re good and that’s good.

But then last week. – HAHAHAHAHA see what I did? I said good three times in one sentence and then started a new one straight away with “but”. heh – I read something saying the link was made up. They didn’t say “made up” it was a medical term. Like tenuous or fabricated, but those are writer’s words and lean more to scribbling than science.

Anyway, what it went on to say that it’s not exercise that makes people happier, it’s that people who feel good about themselves exercise. And that makes perfect sense. Or at least it appeals to me. I’m a pessimist. Luckily, I’m a stubborn and single minded son of a bitch pessimist, so I don’t give up, but I see the downside of things. And by doing that, I’m often pleasantly surprised. When I smell burning toast, the first thing I check is if I’m having a stroke. And if I’m not, then I’m in for some toast.

You can’t look at the habits of people with a certain outlook and then just get that outlook by doing that thing. It’s what they do for them. It could be just how they are wired, and it’s all part of the wiring. But go ahead, try it - don’t let me stop you.

I think exercise can’t hurt, especially for someone like me who has asthma and can be bent up for ten minutes after a minute’s running on a bad day. Thankfully I don’t have many of those bad days. I’ve been hospitalised with it, I’ve had bronchial pneumonia and temperatures of 105 – so high they’ve had to put me on of cold running water, I’ve been hooked up to tanks of pure oxygen when the tips of my fingers have gone blue and been given steroids to get my lungs strong enough to breath like a normal person. I’ve never died before, but I think when I was a kid at one point it was touch and go. Although what does that actually mean? Touch what? And go where? And why? You can’t make me.

While that happens less recently, I really don’t want that going on when I’m fifty, knowing that complications from a cold might kill me.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to die. That’s not what I’m saying, but neither at I going to live forever, you know what I mean?

Have a good week and look after yourself.

Athens, Georgia. Alternative rock giants REM are packing for a day at the seaside.

Michael Stipe: “Right, let’s see, I’ve got my spine, I’ve got my orange crush…”

Mike Mills (impatient): “Can we go now, please?”

…and that’s all I’ve got so far. It’s going well so far though.

One of my essential albums is Getz/Gilberto. It’s an classic and it never lets me down. It’s so smooth I’d bet it could probably fit in my ear sideways.

Life is tough, you know that. We are judged by what we create but time will always move as fast as we do. That’s a hard thing to balance, but we are ultimately defined by how we show up for challenges.

And all the while this song makes life easy.

Sometimes, let the rain just fall.

Click for lyrics

Listen: Desafinado

That’s weird, all of my feeds have started working again. Even the bloglines one. Even odder that yesterday I got a mail from a company saying:

“Hello, This is Susan over at Company Name, I sent you a mail 2 weeks ago about our new RSS Universal service for your site This Is This. I was wondering whether you received it. Let me know if you have any questions. Have a good day, Regards, Susan Matthews”

Interesting. Very interesting. That my feeds should fail the day before I get this mail, I mean. I never got an original mail two weeks ago about a feed solution, but based on the premise that I don’t get a lot of how a lot of technology works and I think people are essentially scumbags first and good deep down second, I have my suspicions. Thanks to everyone for their help yesterday. Proper user testing. Who’d have ever thought?

Earlier this week I was talking about a podcast. Me taking my site down by accident earlier this week is just one of the reasons I should not be allowed near computers and it’s just as well I am appearing on someone else’s podcast and that someone is Mr Angry, of I Am Livid website internet fame.

We are really putting a lot of work into this, as well, with the production roadmap all planned. What this means is I have to buy a newspaper and go over to Angry Towers, which is about fifteen minutes from my house. You see the work I put in? In my favour, his site gets more traffic than mine. In his favour I have microphones and a mixing desk.

So don’t forget to stop by sometime in the second week of October. It’ll be available to download here and or type in Mr Angry into itunes and get signed up.

Or click this now.

If there is anything you would like us to discuss, then drop me a mail at podcastATthisisthisFULLSTOPorg. This message board will also be a mailbox for the podcast. You can make it anonymous if you like by putting in a fake email address when you log in to the comments and I’ll collect it from there. It won’t be published because it’ll come in as an unapproved comment and I’ll keep it for the show.

One final word is that the Keith And The Girl London show I mentioned recently now has a venue. It’s going to be in the downstairs room at The Old Explorer, 23 Great Castle Street, W1G 0JA on October 11. Entry is £10 or free to those wearing any KATG merch. Which I won’t be by the way, but I am hugely looking forward to it. If you haven’t heard the podcast already, then you could do worse, as me and Mr Angry will probably demonstrate.

No, only joking, they are both going to rock.

Have a good weekend.

Honesty, this site writes itself. Sometimes, I’m just tapping the keyboard for looks.

This morning. Maidenhead station, 10am

Woman (in suit with clipboard and walky-talky): What do you think, then?

Man (pensive, in suit with First Great Western badge): Well, I don’t think we can have the celebration. A man has committed suicide. It wouldn’t play out well.

Related story

This is going to seem odd to the people who are reading here, but there’s something wrong with the feed on this site. I’ve been doing some work on my site lately, which included making a backup copy of all the old posts and comments, which I’ve never done before.

Then I tried to back up my site and I took it down because of some password e-nanigans and I had to call the big hosting company and get it fixed. See, there are cool people, then there are geeks and there are people who want to be geeks but can’t, and then there’s me who wants to be a geek but can’t and then tries to be cool on top of that.

So this message is largely redundant because if you’re reading this, there isn’t a problem. As far as I can tell it works on the Feedreader but the bloglines one doesn’t. The test post earlier today, for those who saw it, was actually a double post: first to see if I could write from my mobile phone and also if it came up on my RSS feed reading thing.

You know, it’s funny. Because the people who can’t see it won’t see this post, and the people who can may not understand what I’m talking about.

But anyway, if you are reading this off my site, either with bloglines or google reader or netvibes or feedburner or those other ones, it would really help me if you could drop me a line at cliffATthisisthisDOTorg and let me know, or leave a comment in this post.

US illusionist David Blaine is to take on his biggest challenge yet in a feat of endurance that has silenced even his harshest critics.

“I will go to new parts of my mind, ” he said, “I will wake up at six thirty every morning and travel to an office. The building will be sealed and air will be recirculated using machines. I will be allowed to eat, but often it will be over-priced sandwiches at my desk. After work, I will go home and repeat the exercise the next day.

The celebrity entertainer stroke magician says it will be a trial which will test not just his body and mind, but his soul.

He continued: “And I will do this for forty-five years.”

Under the strict conditions imposed on the trial, Blaine is allowed to have weekends and holidays off. He will begin performing the stunt in his native New York City, but career advisors say he may be in for surprises.

“There will be reshuffles, possible transfers, job-shares, hot-desking,” said one, who preferred not to be named, “- the truth is, when you set out to do a desk job, things don’t always go to plan.”

What is certain is that Blaine, currently ranked 98 on the Forbes Top Celebrity list, will find it very dull as his salary drops from $2m to $48,000.

“That’s probably going to be the hardest thing,” said actor and close friend Leonardo DiCaprio, “he may be able to go to sporting events, but he can kiss those courtside seats goodbye.”

After the forty five years are finished, he will stop working the job and survive on even less, facing health problems while he tries to rebuild his relationship with his family who will undoubtedly have their own lives.

The feat, entitled “David Blaine: Nine To Five” will end in 2053.

This article also appears in today’s Newsbiscuit

Comedian: A funny thing happened on the way here.

Heckler: Perhaps you’d like to tell us and share the experience as part of your comedy routine.

Seriously, I am very busy. Tonight I promise myself is going to be the first night in over a week where I haven’t worked until gone eleven, and that’s only happened by working my arse off last night until midnight and all the way in on the train and tube.

Proper posts may follow as well as details emerging this week of a podcast - yes a proper podcast on Itunes and everything. More tomorrow.

BBC Timewatch has used radiocarbon dating to reveal that

Stonehenge is a 2000BC fake!

The monoliths, which were famously parodied in the 1984 parody film, if you will: “rockumentary”, This Is Spinal Tap, are 300 years older than previously thought.

Why not? Click pic for full version.

Or here if you’re all boring and serious.

He’s not the greatest singer, the guitar sounds a little weak, the drums are thin, it’s a little dated, but the bass contrasting against the melody is brilliant, so here’s one to make us party like it’s 1991, backed up with passion and teenage lyrics for us to remember how we all started out before we ended up.

I love the chord progression in the chorus. Guitarists out there - it’s an E-shape moved up the fretboard first to the third fret, then to the fourth then back to the third then back to E on the first, which is why you’ve got that open B and E though the chorus for the chimes.

Everyone else can sing along:

My head just wants to tell you that I’m lost in you.
Just to hear you say my name – heaven sent and angel.

Listen: Heaven Sent An Angel

This week a man on the train next to me put a newspaper down in between where we were sitting. I grabbed it to read and he huffed.

To put this into context, it was a free newspaper which are available everywhere. If you don’t know London, we have two free papers which are handed to commuters on their way home. Outside the main offices of the BBC, there are four to five vendors handing over papers to people to read on the tube.

The trains are also littered with the papers, because people read them and people leave them on seats for others to read. This is considered good paperquette, so it’s not unreasonable for someone to put a paper down and for you to pick it up, depending on the manner in which they left it.

But this guy discarded the paper. It was disposed of, and he took exception to the way I picked it up. I’m not ranting about it, but I wondered if any other London readers have had a similar experience, or the opposite thing where you have had your newspaper taken. Probably just me, I don’t know.

What I should have done is walked two feet away and got him another paper to replace the one I took. Maybe the paper had some kind of sentimental value. Perhaps it was a gift. Or maybe he’s just dumber than a box of hair and doesn’t realise that these papers are available everywhere. Maybe when he was given it he thought he’d won the lottery and didn’t realise these things are free to everyone. Maybe he was going to take it home for conversation material so he wouldn’t have to have another discussion with his wife about tyre pressure.

I don’t know the facts. But these newspapers are free.

And so is this website by the way, but that’s only because I don’t think anyone would pay for it and I haven’t figured out a way to do that yet. I would like to make money doing this, of course, but it would take a lot of time and I can’t sacrifice the things I already spend time doing.

Eh, whatever. I’m not complaining. Have a great weekend.

Again with this

Asta Says: 13- bound to be lucky

DISCLAIMER – I am not going to write about anyone I know here, because thing would get awkward really fast. So if you know me, and you’re hot, then good for you, but let’s keep it between us.

Who do you think is the most beautiful person in your country?
I think Kate Winslet is awesome, but I’m not sure she’s in the country. And if Julianne Moore were any hotter, they’d have to shut her down. I’m not sure if either of them are in the country, though. I think we export all our hot people. That’s why fuel charges have gone up so much.

Who was the most beautiful person in history?
I think a young Grace Kelly was gorgeous, and Doris Day for that smile. Girl next door? What street in what town on what planet? Catherine Deneuve, too. History has yet to judge Julianne Moore, but I think it will be kind to her. Also the waitress in the diner at the beginning of Pulp Fiction. Jee-sus.

Does beauty affect one’s success in life?
Without a doubt. But extreme beauty means you don’t yet have to cope with things that will one day get you when you ain’t so all that.

Is it better to be physically attractive or intelligent?
Intelligent.

Is it better to be physically attractive or wealthy?
Wealthy.

Is beauty related to power?
Yes. Not only related, but they are befellows. And that’s never nice.

Can you think of anyone who is in a position of power that is not physically attractive?
Plenty, but you should have seen the other guy.

Do people spend too much time and money on beauty?
Beauty is a personal choice.

How much time should be spent on making yourself look better each day?
Depends on the person, but don’t spend too long, because life’s more important than you. A lot of it is how you affect others. Don’t take yourself so personally.

Do you think people should have cosmetic surgery to enhance their looks?
Yes, if it will give them the confidence they need to feel good. If that’s essential necessary to their psychological well being, then absolutely.

If so what is the minimum age when someone should have plastic surgery?
No limit. A parent should be able to decide if they want to improve their child’s appearance if there is some physical impairment that will cause them emotional suffering.

How popular is plastic surgery in your country?
It’s getting bigger all the time.

What is the most popular feature for cosmetic alteration?
I think breasts. Quite a lot of the time, anyway. Sorry, what was the question?

Do you think self-esteem affects beauty?
I think confidence can make people attractive.

Do you think beauty affects self-esteem?
Definitely. Take me for example: I feel fucking great.

How important is beauty in your daily life?
Vital, but I’m not talking about looks.

Have you ever noticed anyone ever feeling pressured to be more beautiful?
Yes, I wish I could do something about that.

What do you think of the proverb, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”
It’s true.

What do you think “beauty is skin deep” means?
I think it means it’s what’s inside that counts. Which it does, but it’s part of a whole thing.

What are some beauty tips that you could share?
Don’t try and look like someone else. Yes, you’re unique, but so is everyone else.

Do you think people with many tattoos can be beautiful?
Sure.

How many tattoos is too many?
Depends on the person and design.

Would you ever get a tattoo?
I would consider it.

Do you have a tattoo?
No.

Do you think people with many piercings can be beautiful?
Yes.

What kind of body piercing, if any, do you feel are acceptable?
Ears are nice, but not on kids.

What kind of piercing, if any, do you feel are unacceptable?
Anything that looks too painful.

What personality trait is the most important for inner beauty?
Compassion. Or patience. Oooh, eloquence. Also decisiveness.

How do you define beauty, using your own words?
The quality which reflects back the spark of life.

Would you ever date someone who was not conventionally attractive?
Yes.

What makes one person more attractive than another?
Personal choice.

Do you think people from different countries than you see attractive the same way?
No, I think it’s all different all over.

Is there someone famous that is considered beautiful, that you think is not?
Keira Knightly. I don’t see it. At all.

Are beauty pageants good or bad?
Very bad.

Should children be entered into beauty pageants?
No. How do you tell the other 49 kids that they just weren’t attractive enough.

Do you think one gender or group worries more about beauty than another?
I think women worry more, but men are getting up there.

Would you want your children to be beautiful or talented?
They already are. (Everyone: Awwwwwwwww.)

What are some of the negatives about being beautiful?
Only that others may resent it, or it may belie your other abilities. There are plenty of people in journalism who are very talented but their skills are not taken on merit because they are so fucking hot. Thankfully this is something I will never have to contend with. (Readers voice: hang on, didn’t you just say you were attractive in the self-esteem question? What’s the deal?) Yes, I did, but now I’ve changed, because I saw the funny. Like this: I try to do the self-depricating jokes, but I’m not very good at it.

What are some examples of social pressures to improve on natural beauty?
For example: lipstick, haircutting, shaving, … Age and health have a lot to do with it.

What do you think about plastic surgery?
I think using canteen cutley for any medical procedure is deeply wrong. Seriously, I think it’s OK. It’s not up to me to say what people should do with themselves.

Would you ever have plastic surgery?
I doubt it.

What?

The Midweek Song. It could work.

Of all the songs with today’s date in the first line, this is probably the saddest and, often by my own misguided reckoning, the most beautiful.

This from Canadian influential songsmiths Tragically Hip.

Dateline? Yep. Lyrics like a homespun Under Milk Wood? Yep. Favourite Shakespeare character namechecked? Yep. Gutwrenching, soulful, bittersweet honesty? Yep. Beautiful acoustic guitars? Yep?

OK.

September 17
For a girl I know it’s Mothers’ Day.
Her son has gone alee
and that’s where he will stay.

Listen: Fiddler’s Green

New boss: Welcome Tony. First day in the new job, then. Any questions?

Tony: Just one at this point. That sign “You don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps.”

New Boss: Sure.

Tony: Would that be OCD or full on schizophrenia?

New boss: Mostly agoraphobia. A little depression mainly. Is that OK?

Tony (sadly): I guess.

New boss: Are you all right in there?

Tony (muffled): Fine.

Still going with this

Sheppitsgal writes -

1 please!

Because I am positively certain that topic no. 1 will be the bestest and most important.

Thanking you in anticipation.

Accidents At Home!

What is the most dangerous thing in your home? How can it be made less dangerous?
My cat Moo Moo. He is a born killer.

What dangers can be found in the kitchen that can cause accidents?
Once the dishwasher was wired up funny and gave us electric shocks off the metal on the inside.

What can be done to prevent kitchen accidents?
Put knives away. This is difficult because I’m always baking bread, so there are always knives around.

What can a parent do to childproof a kitchen?
Use a condom.

What dangers can be found in bathrooms that can cause accidents?
Razor blades and germs.

What can be done to prevent bathroom accidents?
You should always go before you leave the house.

What dangers can be found outside the home in the yard that can cause accidents?
Pitchforks and loose paving slabs.

What can be done to prevent yard accidents?
Adopt the metric system.

What other dangers can be found in a home in laundry rooms?
Never wear stripes with checks.

What can be done throughout the house to prevent accidents?
Be careful.

Where at home would you put your first aid kit?
Under the sink.

I like to tackle the big ones here on this site and today is no exception, because this morning I experienced porn and death. For those of you still reading, I’ll go on.

Death

I was out walking the dog this morning. When dead bodies get found, chances are it’s a dog walker who made the call. You know, like when you watch the news it’s always some old dude out with the pooch? Well, I’ve had a dog for about four months now and so far not one stiff.

Until today.

By the side of the road was a cat, so intact and still I looked to see if it was breathing, but no, it had ceased to be. I walked on a while, thinking about how I could work this into a blog post, then I turned back.

Because I remembered that when I got back from New York, both my cats were missing. The people feeding them said the pets had disappeared in the middle of the week and they were still gone a week after we got back. I resigned myself to the possibility that they could have met a similar fate.

As my worry grew, I tried to pretend they didn’t matter to me. I kidded myself, loosened my grip on my feelings towards them, anticipating the emotional rope burns.

I never posted about it here but I getting worked up about it. For the kids, I mean. Yeah. No, I was cool. (cough) Then Moo Moo came back but there was no sign of Willow for a couple more days. Then the day before I resolved to print out posters, he turned up as I was on my way to work.

So thinking about that experience this morning, I took a picture of the dead cat by the road.

No, I’m not going to post photos here. What kind of site do you think this is?

I wouldn’t have taken it if he didn’t look peaceful, but I thought what happens if I see a poster on a lap-post in a couple of days. It’s likely I’d forget what he looked like, so now I know. And if there’s any doubt, and the owner wants confirmation, I have it. Isn’t technology brilliant?

Porn

This morning is recycling day in my neighbourhood, so apart for dead cats, the streets are strewn with boxes of glass and magazines. Or if you live where I do, wine bottles and porn, because that’s what I saw in one recycling box.

Now.

You have to be a particular type of person to put porn in your recycling, because you’re declaring to your neighbours, and indeed the council, that yes, you may be a knuckle shuffler, but you care about your planet. You’re saying: “I’m a wanker, but I’m no wanker.”

No, I’m not going to post photos here. What kind of site do you think this is?

But there was a stack of jazz mags in the recycling. I hope it was someone’s mum. I can picture the argument. There’s a middle class mother in suburbia: “This is disgusting!!!! I’m throwing these away. They are going straight into the bin. Or the composter. No, the recycling. Daniel, do we have any copied of The Guardian to cover these? Good. Now go to your room young man. No more dirty magazines for you. In fact, no magazines of any kind. Do you understand? Pornography indeed. In this house. This is the only way you’re going to learn. From now on, you’re only allowed to use the Internet. Is that clear?”

Various Accolades

Not the great, five-time Greek Olympic paralympian, but success in this week’s Post Of The Week, news of which reached me late last night as I was watching Primary Colours on my television. Thanks to Katy for nominating this post and the judges and thanks to you for reading.

This puts me on the judging panel next week, so if you see anything worthwhile in the Tropic of Blogicorn, then please send it along to the Post Of The Week guys. I was really pleased to win this week - it is a genuinely brilliant concept, bestowing recognition on blogging peers with an award of the absolutely highest esteem. I’m sure I’ve said this before.

Oooh, the punchline:

I’m just glad our council doesn’t collect plastic.

You’ve been great. My name’s Cliff Jones. Thanks very much. God bless you. I love this town.

We got spiritual earlier this week, and although I’m not being deeply religious myself, I’m drawn no less to this song.

Without religion, the musical landscape would be a worse place. You’d miss out on the greatest albums of John Coltrane, Steve Wonder and Jonny Cash. Without at least the idea of god, you can also scrap the devil, or the notion of it, so there goes the blues and a lot of heavy metal. And Bach. Is that what you want? IS it?

You’d also lose a lot of soul, gospel, reggae, classical music.

You can’t listen to this without singing along. This is a great song – this’ll get an amen from the heathens.

It builds to five-part wide harmony, so it’s in your range no matter who you are. There are no excuses.

I like that male alto they have in country music that does the close harmonies. Mike Mills from REM has that kind of voice. So does Paul Simon although he’s not as sharp. Guys like Arlo Guthrie, Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Hank Williams – what they lacked in richness they made up in edge. Levon Helm had a voice like a rusty penknife. You get plenty of country singers with rich voices, of course. Kenny Rogers, Dwight Yoakam and Randy Travis have great tenor tones, but you get that pretty much everywhere.

But let’s hear it for the big man. I can’t tell whether he is or ain’t, but I can’t prove music exists either. It’s there, but what are actually experiencing? Sound waves? Maybe.

Rise and follow me, I’ll make you worthy.
Rise and follow me, I’ll make you fishers of men.

Listen: Fishers Of Men

Arguments then:
Her: You never call, you don’t write, blahblahblah.
Him: I’ve been very busy.

Arguments now:
Her: You never answer emails, you don’t update your twitter status, you’re not on facebook, you don’t IM.
Him: I’m quite rude and lazy.

Commuter rage this morning again, I’m afraid. A guy comes up and sits opposite me. The train isn’t that busy, but it’s a free country.

He sits for a second, then the turns and tries to open the window behind him, which he can’t do because he has to operate both latches. So he walks to the seats behind him and then opens the window before coming back.

FAIL 1: Going over to someone else’s part of the train to open their window so you can get some breeze where you are sitting. When it’s raining. In late September.

Then he comes back and sits down, leaning forward, so the high edge of his paper is leaning over the top of my laptop screen. Not a lot, but leaning over my screen anyway.

FAIL 2: Being an asshole.

I look at him and he turns the page and the paper goes back to resting on my screen as I write this.

Then.

He.

Starts.

Chewing.

Gum.

Mouth open, legs apart, paper on my screen, sitting in the breeze of someone else’s cold front, chewing.

FAIL 3: Being a cunt.

I get up and move to the seat behind him. Between stations. Say something. Go on, motherfucker, say something and I’ll ask you where I should start.

I want them to say something. Like the time I spoke to that guy. It was because he said something.

But they rarely do, because they don’t give a shit about how they act. I’m not about to go up to someone and tell them how they are rude, but if you ask, I’ll aim to please.

I don’t like being the angry guy. I don’t sit down to write ranting posts. We’re better than this. But when I sit down to write, I rarely know what I’m going to say, but then some fuckmunch sits down and it’s all I can think about.

I want to be the guy who writes about temples and poems and does video posts with the greatest dog in the world, who kills you with cute then makes you laugh, who talks about therapy, who puts up noise of air conditioners because they sound good and we don’t know why, who not only found his game but shouted down from the top of it to ask what you wanted and then did it and it’s like magic because we expected one thing and got something better.

I want to be the guy who took the time.

And we nearly had it this week apart from one inconsiderate person.

Go on, get out of here. Thanks for stopping by - it’s been a sensation.

Have a great weekend.

UPDATE - SCROLL DOWN FOR RESPONSE
Sad news is reaching the offices of This Is This early this morning from US paper the Rocky Mountain News. It has been following the story of the death of 3-year-old Marten Kudlis who was killed on Tuesday while having an ice cream with his mother when a car careened into the Baskin Robbins.

Tragic, right? Report the facts and leave it at that?

Not so, says the RMN, which blames Colorado’s lax immigration laws, because one of the cars was being driven by a - you guessed it - illegal alien. Yeah. From Guatemala.

OK. You said your piece. Happy?

No way, says the RMN, throwing in a little multiplatform reporting to give us live graveside coverage from the funeral of little Marten.

“Rocky reporter Berny Morson filed live updates from the memorial service of 3-year-old Marten Kudlis” screams the editorial. There’s a handy widget within the article or you can see the twitter updates here.

The reporting included insights such as:

• rabbi says marten loved to be tickled. calls the death a nightmare. no words can sooth us, he says.   05:28 PM September 10, 2008  from txt 
• family member says marten is with grandmother who died last year. ‘ marten we loved you,’ he says. People sobbing.   05:22 PM September 10, 2008  from txt
• video shows marten blowing out candles on birthday cake, marten with dog. last images are of headlines.   05:44 PM September 10, 2008  from txt 
• coffin lowered into ground   06:18 PM September 10, 2008  from txt   
• family members shovel earth into grave
  1 day ago from txt

Apparently there’s no YouTube montage announced yet, but rumour has it there’s an interactive quiz a facebook app doing the rounds.

UPDATE
Of course, they write back:

Mr. Jones, This funeral was of great community interest. You may not
understand all of the issues surrounding it, since I notice that you
don’t live in Colorado. We were invited to the funeral. We never cover
funerals where they have asked us not given us permission to attend. We
were not intrusive. And we didn’t write anything that wasn’t included in
the next morning’s newspaper. It was just a different, more immediate
medium. I disagree with you that it was in poor taste. Deb Goeken,
managing editor.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a temple (click photo for larger pic). I stuck some money in a prayer box there. It might not be called a “prayer box”, but what do I know? I took a piece of paper out anyway and took off the rubber band to reveal an awful sight.

Number 47. Chicken with lemon sauce.

No, only joking.

What? Come on. You’re no better than me. That was funny.

Ladies? GSOH, right? Fine. Please yourselves, but in five years’ time I’ll be the type of guy you settle for.

OK, seriously.

Number 47. Probability of Success: Poor
The world is full of traps
Which cause many mishaps.

So far fine. It’s a limerick, I thought. It goes on.

Don’t sail and get aground,
Nor run circling around.

Hang on. That’s pretty awful. No only do I get a bad tiding, but you wrap it in a terrible poem and charge me money for it. Thanks Buddha. Thanks a fuckload. And all I’ve done for you. No, that’s fine, you just sit there.

See, they should have made more effort.

“Why wasn’t my life so much gooder?”
Said the man as he pummelled the Buddha,
who said: “That’s just it,
your life’s turned out shit
’cause you didn’t do right when you coulda.”

That’s what you need. That’s some chancey material. You have a grin and you learn something, instead of being left with in an inauspicious cycle, not to mention a bad mood.

So here’s where you come in. I’m thinking I can jinx this by putting it up here. You know how if you have something good coming you don’t want to talk about it? Like when you have a job interview and you killed, you absolutely stomped it, but you say nothing because you don’t want to jinx it? Well, this is the reverse jinx.

By telling everyone here about my slim chances of success, I’m actually improving my chances with the reverse jinx.

See, religion’s easy.

Tomorrow: I’ll have what Jihad.

“Daddy, is that spider on the inside of the house or the outside?”

These words chill me, but I muster my resolve to turn to the window. If this was a movie, the camera would do that thing where I’m in the shot and it zooms in while the room seems to get smaller, because a film seems like what we’re in, especially with as there’s a kid pointing stuff out like they are not scared. This usually makes things doubly scary.

You know, like: “Daddy, why is grandma in the kitchen?” when daddy has just explained that grandma is in heaven. Then grandma appears at the door and she takes a break from the cake she is mixing to raise a boney hand to blow the kid a kiss.

ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!, right?

I didn’t show my fear about the spider, partly because he said the word Daddy and I should be what dads should be, but mostly because he also said the word “outside” which I’m hoping it fucking is.

Turns out is fucking was, but this is late summer in the country.

And late summer mean big spiders. I wonder what ecological role spiders play. Yes, they kill flies, but how many flies do they actually get? I’m not sure they have to eat that many spiders to survive. I know hedgehogs have to eat a lot of slugs and that’s fine, but I can’t imagine flies and things live that long, or if many actually find themselves stuck in webs. I have seen bugs fly, and they generally don’t aim for the corners of the rooms of my house.

Why the spiders, seriously. I know they have evolved and things don’t eat them. They have become the top of their particular food chain, but that’s no excuse.

Unless you’re a polar bear or a human.

—
Related posts
The Spider, Man, Is Having Me For Dinner Tonight
Spiders
My Cats Are Useless

I am not afraid.

Pugupdate! Pudupgate! Pugdate!

Next time maybe I’ll even be in the shot. Talk about being upstaged. I’m supposed to tell you he reads all his comments and regrets that he doesn’t have time to answer them all.

As I’ve said many times before I write on the train on the way in and there’s a lot of noise. There are the office gossipers, the coffers, the gum chewers, the ipod blasters and of course the guy who listens to his mobile phone through his speakers.

On of my life’s banes also is the amount of notices we get all the time. Even after leaving the train, every day, I get announcements. Announcements about how all lines on the tube are running, ones about when the tube is approaching, ones about where the next tube is going, then one from the driver that we are about to leave and to mind the lines, then one three minutes later about what stop I have arrived at and what tube line I am travelling on (for fuck’s sake) then a beep while the doors close and two minutes later what the next station will be then one saying what station it is.

Then when I get past all the stations and I get to work, it’s a beep out of the tube station, all the trains and traffic noise, a beep into work, a lift pings to let me know it’s there then tells me whether it is going up or down then that it’s closing its doors and then what floor I’m on and then whether it is going up or down and then when it is closing its doors. It’s too much fucking noise and something that people don’t complain about, like road signs or safety instructions.

I have some good headphones that go right inside my ears and they block out a lot of sound, but you can still hear the background. I’d like to get some of those proper noise-cancelling ones but I think if I had £200 I’d probably spend it on a new laptop instead.

I tend to mask the noise out with music and I can write ok listening to songs, which I pick according to how I’m feeling, because the sound fits right into that and everything comes out better.

Lately I discovered a market in ambient noise and it’s really interesting. This site here has a few and it’s funny the affect sound has on our moods. There is one sound in particular that I love and it’s the one of the air conditioning unit. I don’t want to influence you by saying what it reminds me of, but I find this more soothing than any of your new age bullshit babbling brook (move over Dylan Thomas) or stormy raincloud mp3s.

Of course, I do like the sound of rain and distant thunder and treefrogs and that, but if it’s an mp3 and a file that I can carry around with me, then for some reason I’d choose the noise of the a/c.

I’m listening to a file of brown noise at the moment. It’s like white noise but a little bit dirty.

OK, joke aside, you have white noise, which is every frequency of the audible scale at the same volume. It sounds a little like static, but because it’s every frequency, it drowns out every noise, or cancels it. Or something, but after it has been on, you forget the noise like a blind spot and everything seems quiet. No, I don’t know how it works either.

Trouble is, white noise is a little tinny and high-pitched. Pink noise is white noise with the volume down a notch for every time the frequency goes up, so it’s way down for the high frequencies.

Brown noise, or red noise, is the frequency down two notches (or decibels) for every frequency (or note, although they are not technically spread out as wide as notes in a music scale) as they go up. So it’s kind of like a warm static sound that to me sounds like the generator or a constant wave or a swimming pool generator.

Today for the first time I have been listening to it for half an hour, and I still am right now as I write this and I do feel calmer and more relaxed. It’s not going to make the Weekend Song or anything, but I like it.

Anyway, listen to the a/c noise and tell me if it’s just me.

Here’s a great pop song, and it ticks a lot of my happy boxes. Mandolin, saxophones, bittersweet lyrics. Sad shire horses in the sodium light.

I often wonder what would have happened if my family had stayed in Liverpool. I guess I like thinking about the connections we don’t know.

I’m a complex and flawed individual, and like songs that are sad but sound happy. Many Rivers To Cross by Jimmy Cliff is one, same with Northern Sky by Nick Drake.

I make no bones about liking Sting. He has written some great solo songs for his solo catalogue. Fortress Around Your Heart, I Hung My Head, Fields Of Gold.

He has also worked with some great musicians, including Larry Adler, who I once had the pleasure of meeting. This one has Vinnie Colaiuta on drums, who is an incredible pop drummer. Get something soft and fluffy under your jaw and check him out on Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation album - he does more things with cymbals than most people do with their lives.

I can’t listen to this song without at least miming the words “I looked out across” at the beginning. And the bass in the chorus is lovely. I like how all the choruses are different lengths. It’s just a great song.

Everyone? Y’all ready? Watch me, now… On me… Key change!

Teachers told us the Romans built this place.
They built a wall and a temple and an edge of the empire garrison town.
They lived and they died, they prayed to their gods but the stone gods did not make a sound.
And their empire crumbled ’til all that was left were the stones the workmen found.

Listen – All This Time

Have your say on tomorrow’s post.

1. Pug update/pugdate!

2. Video post!

3. You Ask For It - Accidents At Home!

4. Spiders!

The choice…

is yours.

So here I am talking to you online, but as a blogger I’m aware its weird sharing a personality online and egocasting it the way I do.

I guess I DO have a broadcasting persona, but in real life I’m not that much of a talker. I joke around and I talk about things, but I don’t really carry a conversation as much as it carries me.

I have been dabbling in therapy recently - mainly it was because I’ve never been sure whether my depression was just a general disposition or environmental and therefore something I could address.

It’s mild - I have never missed a day of work or stayed in bed all day and I sympathise with people who have it that bad. It must suck like I can’t imagine, but given a family history of mental illness it’s something that’s worth looking at - a lack of happiness for no good reason over a period of weeks should ring alarm bells.

I would hate to get to fifty five and then do something about it and regret not having done something twenty years earlier while the kids were at home.

My psychotherapist was stunned by the fact that I could talk about things in my life that had happened in without crying. Well, sorry toots, but I just met you.

Her theory was that I had never allowed myself an outlet for my feelings and I was out of touch with my emotions, but I think it was more that I was out of touch with her, because I’d only met her once. That gave her cause to say I was in denial, and I was never going to win that one. So that was the end of therapy - it lasted about a month.

Was it the right decision? Ask me in twenty years.

(That was the cool ending to the post. The real answer is I’m not sure and we left on very good terms. It was enlightening, but life’s good now. I might go back, if it becomes a train wreck - sorry, locomotive malfunction - when therapy could be the mental five-a-day I need. You are what you eat, but you’re also what eats you.)

Ola, punkass bitches. This goes back to here, while I cook up some regular posts for the future. In the meantime, though:
mike Says:
Six and two: sixty-two.

What kind of gardening do you like?
I like vegetable gardening.

How much time do you spend in the garden?
About half an hour a week actually gardening, but I like being outdoors. I have a table, loungers and everything.

Do you think gardening is good for your health?
It’s therapeutic. It’s about results but also the work and the patience, which is a good lesson for life.

What are the names of some famous gardens in your city?
Hyde Park, Kew Gardens, Green Park.

What are some vegetables which you grow in your garden?
Tomatoes, rhubarb, peppers aubergine, onions, lettuce. More fruit these days that vegetables.

Do you think trees need pruning every year?
Some. Pear trees and magnolias do.

What are the names of some famous gardens in your country?
Heligan

What are names of common flowers in your country?
Bluebells, daffodils, roses, daisies.

Does your house have a garden?
Yes.

Is there a flower store near your house?
Yes, lots.

What are some things that need to be done in the garden in the spring?
You need to plant out your borders and rake out the moss.

What are the some names of gardening tools?
Ho, shovel, trowel, etc.

Would you prefer to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden? Why?
A vegetable garden. I like the principle of it.

As a final point, it seems that Tesco are striking a blow for the fewer/less debate.

For years stores have been saying less when they mean fewer, which is kind of like saying much when you mean many. One is to do with a quantity and the other is to do with a definitive amount. It’s really not that hard, and finally trying to get it right.

I read in the paper yesterday morning that Marks & Spencer is selling fewer sandwiches these days so the company who prepares them is making forty-three of its employees redundant. Now, you can do what you want, but next time you buy a M&S sandwich, bear in mind hthat the person who made it could be one of the ones losing their job in six weeks.

Picture the pride they might have in their job, preparing your lunch as they prepare to face the dole queue with the qualifications of a sandwich packer in a failing economy.

I think I’ll have the pasta salad.

Related Post
It. Is. Not. Tescos.

(Three small posts today because I want each of them to come up as separate entries if people search for them)

Having some time off recently exposed a few home truths. One is that I need to look after myself better. I have said this before. Every fucking time I go away and come back I say this, but this time I mean it.

I could read more, I could go to bed earlier, I could exercise more and I could eat better, but I never seem to make the jump to really doing it.

Until now.

On Sunday, I went to the gym. Yeah. I rowed 1.5k (the machine said), ran for 20 minutes flat (covering two and a half miles), did some weights and machines. I was surprised I could run that much, but I think walking the dog in the morning and moving a lot between buildings at work has kept me fitter than I thought.

Going to bed earlier is hard, but I’m up at 6:30 every day, so I just need to do it. I am also reading more and have culled my time online. That last one has been hard, but I can’t read everything and there are just going to have to be things I don’t get to know.

I’m still in touch. I still check my email first thing and last thing, and I’m still writing this, but I need to be tougher on myself, so I have become a Me Nazi.

Weird stuff happening, because on Friday, the Something I’d Probably Do post should have gone live, but I noticed at the weekend I published it as Private, which means that only I could see it. And if I just wanted to read my stuff without anyone else, then I’d go back to filling notepads like I did for years.

I know bloggers say they don’t if people read their stuff or not, but it’s better when they do. It’s broadcasting, and that requires an audience. Yes, I’d probably be writing this if you weren’t reading, but you are so it’s a better experience.

Here’s a thing I love. It’s called Hammond Song by The Roches, and it just gets me. I has a great line, which is “We’ll always love you/but that’s not the point”.

It’s something people hear from people who think they have your best interests at heart.

They sing the same note, then go to harmony, they sing the same measures and then overlap, they stick to the structure, then split from it before you notice. I love this song.

I am not a teenage girl (sorry), and these lyrics have no particular meaning for me, so why should it connect so strongly for me?

That’s the thing about great writing – it connects us and joins our common sensitivities. Writing gives us the distance to allow us to get closer, without an approach. Don’t always listen to the advice of others, and do your own thing if it’s right. You certainly won’t get them here, but there are no easy answers.

All I can offer is a few simple truths, and here’s one today from Jack Kerouac, who wrote: “The straight line will take you only to death.”