Today's blog was supposed to be coming at you from around 9am this morning but it's now 6 in the evening and I have had another day of doing nout. You see I have not been getting up at a reasonable time these past few weeks (for much of the whole of first term as well), and it's something that needs sorting out. My housemate, Geoff, is in the same boat as well. Neither of us are out of our bedrooms until about lunchtime and the pair of us have decided we have had enough of it.
So last night we decided we'd both get up 8'oclock this morning. The deal was that we'd both try to get up at 8 and if the other one wasn't up we'd go bang on their door to wake them. We made this pact together sometime after midnight last night before we sat down to watch two films that didn't finish until three thirty in the morning. We then both agreed that perhaps we should set our alarms for 9 o'clock instead. Yes 9o'clock meant we'd be getting up a little later than our agreed 8'oclock, but 9 was still a good time to get up. It would still be classified as the morning, or the breakfast period and after I had eaten and got myself cleaned up I would probably be ready to start working at 10.
I set the alarm on my phone for 9 o'clock feeling pretty positive about getting up at that time. But to ensure I wouldn't just turnover and put my alarm on snooze the minute it woke me up in the morning I put my phone on the other side of the room, which means I have to actually get out of my bed to turn it off. In theory this is a really good tactic for getting up, but I have done this loads already. In fact I do this most nights. And while it worked the first couple of times I did it, it doesn't work anymore.
The main problem I have with getting up in the morning, and the reason that this tactic with the alarm doesn't work anymore, is all to do with changing mindsets. The mindset I am in when I am going to bed and setting the alarm is a completely different mindset to when I wake up in the morning. In fact, I would say my early morning mindset is so much different to my evening mindset that I would argue that they are completely different people, with very different priorities. The morning persons priority is to get back to sleep. That seems to be its sole motivation. Nothing will keep him out of bed very long. Even when I need to go to the toilet he will hold on as long as he can until the seal is almost broken before pulling himself out of bed to relieve himself. And even when he's in the toilet, and in the process of relieveing himself, he will try to steal every little bit of sleep that he can. This is why men piss all over the toilet when they get up to go during the night. It's not because they can't aim (because they can), it's because they try to piss and sleep at the same time.
I could wake up and my bedroom could be on fire but my morning self will try to rationalise staying in bed for just "another minute" before he'll get out of bed to save himself. Because that's what happens when my alarm goes off in the morning. I grumpily get out of bed and push the "snooze" button, which I think should be banned off of all alarms. They are absolutely pointless. All it does is give you another 5 or 10 minutes in bed, so why don't you just program your alarm to wake you later? - Oh, because you were supposed to be up 5 or ten minutes earlier? So what has the snooze button done for your except make you late? That's its purpose. TO make you late.
Unless you fall for the same trick I used to when I would set my alarm for a little earlier than I needed, then I would use the snooze button to wake me up ten minutes later thus somehow giving me the illusion of having got a little extra time in bed. It's like I've got my own makeshift time traveling device. The alarm goes off, I push the snooze button, and hey presto! I get an extra ten minutes in bed.
The trouble is, at that time an extra ten minutes is not enough. I need hours, but I'll refuse to stop using the snooze button. I just keep the phone by my bed, sometimes clutched in my hand, pressing it every 10 minutes when it decides to go off, making an empty promise to myself that "I will get up the next time it goes off. The next time it beeps I will get up" - BEEP BEEP BEE-*CLICK* ... "The next time it goes off I will get up. The next time".
It's only now as I write about this that I realise that I've subjected myself to my own Sisyphean punishment (that bloke from Greek mythology who had to push a boulder up a hill for eternity). I found that this was even more true after a little bit of research on the origin of the snooze button (i know, i'm a nerd). Aparently it goes off every nine minutes, the reason for this being that it takes the average person 10 to 20 minutes asleep, which means it is actually designed to go off moments before you can go back to sleep. So for all those hours I spend pushing that button over and over I'm not sleeping I am torturing myself. I am stealing sleep from myself, and making all those hours spent in bed an even bigger waste of time because I'm awake the whole time!
So what happened this morning? With our great plan of waking each other up? What do you think happened? In some ways it was the stupidest plan we could ever have come up with. Two people who are unable to wake themselves up relying on the other to wake them up was never gonna work. My alarm went off, I put it on snooze and went back to bed thinking that Geoff would probably wake me up in the minute, and I imagine he probably thought something similar as well.
I'm sure it will work when we try doing it again tomorrow.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
My new archenemy: The Wilt & Dorset bus company.
Todays blog is gonna be a big moan about the bus I have to take to work. Getting to work this year is a real pain in the arse for me at the moment because I (perhaps foolishly) have chosen to live in a place called Wallisdown which is almost 3 miles from where I work in Blockbusters. In fact it is miles away from almost anything. Winton, Charminster, the two most popular areas for students to live in are a trek to get to, and town is even further away. The only place Wallisdown is close to is the Uni, which is about 15mins walk away. But at least there are plenty of reliable buses that go to those places.
But where I work in Moordown, there is only one bus. The number 15. It is the most unreliable bus service I have had the misfortune of waiting around for, and it only runs until about 7 or 8 o'clock which means it can get me to work but it can't get me home. Almost every shift I have to walk almost 3 miles to get home, but I'm getting used to that now, so long as it's not pouring with rain.
What really gets me angry with the service is the fact that the bus is never on time, ever. They could use traffic as an excuse if it happened every so often, but there is always traffic between 4 and 6 every night. If the bus can't make the time it says on the time table then change the fucking timetable!!! Plus all the other buses are on time what is this bus' problem?
Today's little episode with the bus has got to be the worst so far. Because the bus is always late i send a text to a traveline service that will send me a text back with a (hopefully) accurate time for my bus to arrive. I sent a a text at 4:05pm because I hoped to get the 4:13pm bus but the text came back saying it won't be there until 4:39pm. I thought fair enough, I don't have to be at work until 5pm, if it gets at the stop for that time I should be on time for work (but I knew this was unlikely).
I get to the stop in time for that bus and I look up at the electronic screen (that is a pretty new addition to this particular bus stop), and it says the bus is due to come at 4:43 (which is what time the bus is supposed to arrive according to the timetable). I wasn't worried, that should still get me to work on time. After 5 minutes I look at my watch it is now 45 minutes past the hour and I look up at the screen to see the 15 bus at 4:43pm suddenly disappears. It doesn't update to another time, the bus doesn't turn up around the corner of the roundabout. The bus times just disappears. I wait another 5 minutes and nothing happens. No bus, no times, nothing. I phone work to tell them i'll be late and sit back down.
Now everytime this happens, and it more or less happens very similiar to this everytime, like most people I start to get really angry. I get sooo fucking annoyed, in this state I am angry in a way that only the incredible hulk wished he could get angry. I decide I'm going to call the Wilts and dorset offices to shout down the phone at them, but oh no, they're offices are closed at this time and shouting at an answering service will only serve to exacerbate my enraged state. I think, "okay then, I'll wait til I get home tonight and send them an angry email, no wait, better yet, I wait until tomorrow morning and then I'll phone their offices and shout at the fuckers. No! I'll march down to their offices and scream in their weasley pathetic little faces! Actually no, I'll march down their, find the person responsible for the bus time tables and the number 15 service and do violence on him. And if I get taken to court, in my defence I'll have the judge and the jury to ride the 15 bus service for a week. At the end of the week they unanimously decide that it was a provoked attack and that the victim actually deserved the beating I gave him. In fact they'll commend me for my efforts, and while they wouldn't usually encourage such behaviour, on this occasion they'll agree that my actions had justifiable cause."
But then I thought "no, your usual brand of violence isn't enough, bones will knit, bruises will heal, plus I'm not really that tough, and pretty cowardly to be honest. One on one confrontations scare me. I know, I'll phone in a bomb threat! In fact I'm that angry right now that I'll convert to Islam and put a Jihad on the Wilts and dorset bus service!!!!!" (In fact a bomb scare is not a bad idea if I do it like the plot of the film Speed, and tell them that there is a bomb on the bus that will blow up if it drops below 50 mph. That way it might actually get me to work on time, though I think that will only work once or twice. They'll probably realise it's a prank after that).
kay, you're probably thinking that I've gone to far with this. But in the heat of the moment I actually feel that I could do many of things that I have said here (except from writing them an email, that's just a pointless waste of time.) However once the moment has passed, the minute my bus finally arrives and I'm on my way to work the anger quickly subsides. My rage seems to exist only for that particular moment, once the situation changes I'm back to a very normal rational state. And what's more I'll forget to do all those things I said I'll do. Like I really think it probably would be a good idea to phone the Wilts and Dorset buses about their bus service. I'm not sure that it would achieve anything, but for all those times they made me angry I feel someone there should be on the receiving end of my loud angry voice at least once.
But shit like that is never one persons fault, and the chances are the person you're speaking to is nothing more than a customer service representative taking all the flak for someone elses crap. And it's not fair for them to get shouted at because of it.
So lets go back to what happened this evening. It got to after 5 o'clock, the bus still hadn't arrived and my shift was supposed to have started now. The little electronic screen was now showing the bus time for the next scheduled 15 bus at 5:13pm. Where the fuck did the other bus go?!!!!
I decided to phone the company knowing that the offices were closed but I managed to get an extension to the traveline service, the very same service that operates the text update on my mobile, they informed me that there are no 15 buses running today because of a bus strike!!!!!!!
Now I have no problem with strike action. I have just taken a look on the internet about it and the drivers are striking because they're having to drive more hours than i reasonably save without a break. Good luck to them. But the company should provide some sort of notification for it.
If that electronic screen they have at the top of the bus stop is nothing more than a glorified timetable!!!! Those things are meant to provide accurate and frequent updates for bus times, but when all they do is show you exactly what can be found on the bus timetable then they are nothing more than a flashy looking bus timetable! And what about the traveline text service that I used? That told me that the 15 bus would be at the stop at 4:39, but clearly it was a load of bollox!!! Why not just send a text back saying there is no 15, or even just return with providing no time for the 15 bus?
In the end I had no choice but to get a cab in to work, so I was an hour late for my shift and had to pay £7.50 for a cab, which equates to almost an hour and a halfs worth of my wages. Someone's going to pay.
DEATH TO THE WILTS & DORSET BUS COMPANY INFIDELS!!!!!!!!!!!!
But where I work in Moordown, there is only one bus. The number 15. It is the most unreliable bus service I have had the misfortune of waiting around for, and it only runs until about 7 or 8 o'clock which means it can get me to work but it can't get me home. Almost every shift I have to walk almost 3 miles to get home, but I'm getting used to that now, so long as it's not pouring with rain.
What really gets me angry with the service is the fact that the bus is never on time, ever. They could use traffic as an excuse if it happened every so often, but there is always traffic between 4 and 6 every night. If the bus can't make the time it says on the time table then change the fucking timetable!!! Plus all the other buses are on time what is this bus' problem?
Today's little episode with the bus has got to be the worst so far. Because the bus is always late i send a text to a traveline service that will send me a text back with a (hopefully) accurate time for my bus to arrive. I sent a a text at 4:05pm because I hoped to get the 4:13pm bus but the text came back saying it won't be there until 4:39pm. I thought fair enough, I don't have to be at work until 5pm, if it gets at the stop for that time I should be on time for work (but I knew this was unlikely).
I get to the stop in time for that bus and I look up at the electronic screen (that is a pretty new addition to this particular bus stop), and it says the bus is due to come at 4:43 (which is what time the bus is supposed to arrive according to the timetable). I wasn't worried, that should still get me to work on time. After 5 minutes I look at my watch it is now 45 minutes past the hour and I look up at the screen to see the 15 bus at 4:43pm suddenly disappears. It doesn't update to another time, the bus doesn't turn up around the corner of the roundabout. The bus times just disappears. I wait another 5 minutes and nothing happens. No bus, no times, nothing. I phone work to tell them i'll be late and sit back down.
Now everytime this happens, and it more or less happens very similiar to this everytime, like most people I start to get really angry. I get sooo fucking annoyed, in this state I am angry in a way that only the incredible hulk wished he could get angry. I decide I'm going to call the Wilts and dorset offices to shout down the phone at them, but oh no, they're offices are closed at this time and shouting at an answering service will only serve to exacerbate my enraged state. I think, "okay then, I'll wait til I get home tonight and send them an angry email, no wait, better yet, I wait until tomorrow morning and then I'll phone their offices and shout at the fuckers. No! I'll march down to their offices and scream in their weasley pathetic little faces! Actually no, I'll march down their, find the person responsible for the bus time tables and the number 15 service and do violence on him. And if I get taken to court, in my defence I'll have the judge and the jury to ride the 15 bus service for a week. At the end of the week they unanimously decide that it was a provoked attack and that the victim actually deserved the beating I gave him. In fact they'll commend me for my efforts, and while they wouldn't usually encourage such behaviour, on this occasion they'll agree that my actions had justifiable cause."
But then I thought "no, your usual brand of violence isn't enough, bones will knit, bruises will heal, plus I'm not really that tough, and pretty cowardly to be honest. One on one confrontations scare me. I know, I'll phone in a bomb threat! In fact I'm that angry right now that I'll convert to Islam and put a Jihad on the Wilts and dorset bus service!!!!!" (In fact a bomb scare is not a bad idea if I do it like the plot of the film Speed, and tell them that there is a bomb on the bus that will blow up if it drops below 50 mph. That way it might actually get me to work on time, though I think that will only work once or twice. They'll probably realise it's a prank after that).
kay, you're probably thinking that I've gone to far with this. But in the heat of the moment I actually feel that I could do many of things that I have said here (except from writing them an email, that's just a pointless waste of time.) However once the moment has passed, the minute my bus finally arrives and I'm on my way to work the anger quickly subsides. My rage seems to exist only for that particular moment, once the situation changes I'm back to a very normal rational state. And what's more I'll forget to do all those things I said I'll do. Like I really think it probably would be a good idea to phone the Wilts and Dorset buses about their bus service. I'm not sure that it would achieve anything, but for all those times they made me angry I feel someone there should be on the receiving end of my loud angry voice at least once.
But shit like that is never one persons fault, and the chances are the person you're speaking to is nothing more than a customer service representative taking all the flak for someone elses crap. And it's not fair for them to get shouted at because of it.
So lets go back to what happened this evening. It got to after 5 o'clock, the bus still hadn't arrived and my shift was supposed to have started now. The little electronic screen was now showing the bus time for the next scheduled 15 bus at 5:13pm. Where the fuck did the other bus go?!!!!
I decided to phone the company knowing that the offices were closed but I managed to get an extension to the traveline service, the very same service that operates the text update on my mobile, they informed me that there are no 15 buses running today because of a bus strike!!!!!!!
Now I have no problem with strike action. I have just taken a look on the internet about it and the drivers are striking because they're having to drive more hours than i reasonably save without a break. Good luck to them. But the company should provide some sort of notification for it.
If that electronic screen they have at the top of the bus stop is nothing more than a glorified timetable!!!! Those things are meant to provide accurate and frequent updates for bus times, but when all they do is show you exactly what can be found on the bus timetable then they are nothing more than a flashy looking bus timetable! And what about the traveline text service that I used? That told me that the 15 bus would be at the stop at 4:39, but clearly it was a load of bollox!!! Why not just send a text back saying there is no 15, or even just return with providing no time for the 15 bus?
In the end I had no choice but to get a cab in to work, so I was an hour late for my shift and had to pay £7.50 for a cab, which equates to almost an hour and a halfs worth of my wages. Someone's going to pay.
DEATH TO THE WILTS & DORSET BUS COMPANY INFIDELS!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, 7 January 2008
Running out of steam? I think not.
I can feel the enthusiasm I had for writing this blog is wanning away already, which strangely gives me all the more reason to continue. It's easy to do something when you're feeling really good about it or having a good day, but you're not really proving your dedication and commitment to something unless you're still doing it on the days where you feel you just can't be bothered to do anything. Because that's what i've done today... absolutely nothing. I didn't even get up until 3 this afternoon, and its not even as if I had to get out of bed as I slept on the couch last night. In my defence I got very little sleep. I wasn't feeling well. I was aching all over and thought I might be coming down with flu. I'm not, I think it's just a cold.
I feel there is very little else for me to talk about today but this was gonna be a problem when I made this promise to myself to post in my blog everyday without fail. So right now I'm thinking of a way of generating topics of conversation for myself on the days when I have little else to talk about. That way I won't have to post up uneventful and boring blogs like this one.
I suppose could talk about the two TV programs I have just watched. The first was an episode of Panorama called One Click from danger, which was another scare mongering piece about the danger kids are from stalkers on networking sites such as Facebook and Myspace. I find it difficult to watch a program like this without feeling as if I'm watching Chris Morris' Brasseye special on paedophilia.
I've been doing media based subjects for the past four years so I'm very aware of the fact that even supposedly "factual" programing is constructed in a very deliberate and careful way in order to get a certain message, or point of view across. But the brilliance of Chris Morris' Brasseye series is that when I watch a documentary such as that episode of Panorama or the program that followed it, Road Rage, I find myself laughing at the over the top way they dramatise everything.
One of the opening lines from the program on Road Rage could easily be appropriated for an episode of Brasseye without any exageration or tampering for comedic effect "CYCLISTS AND MOTORISTS ARE AT WAR! OUR ROADS ARE NOW A BATTLE GROUND!"
If anything, language like this, and the variety of other techniques programs like this utilise, only serve to trivialise serious and sensitive subject matter by taking it into the realms of ridiculous melodrama.
That's all for today. But I will leave you with this, a short clip of satirical brilliance from the infamous Brasseye special:
I feel there is very little else for me to talk about today but this was gonna be a problem when I made this promise to myself to post in my blog everyday without fail. So right now I'm thinking of a way of generating topics of conversation for myself on the days when I have little else to talk about. That way I won't have to post up uneventful and boring blogs like this one.
I suppose could talk about the two TV programs I have just watched. The first was an episode of Panorama called One Click from danger, which was another scare mongering piece about the danger kids are from stalkers on networking sites such as Facebook and Myspace. I find it difficult to watch a program like this without feeling as if I'm watching Chris Morris' Brasseye special on paedophilia.
I've been doing media based subjects for the past four years so I'm very aware of the fact that even supposedly "factual" programing is constructed in a very deliberate and careful way in order to get a certain message, or point of view across. But the brilliance of Chris Morris' Brasseye series is that when I watch a documentary such as that episode of Panorama or the program that followed it, Road Rage, I find myself laughing at the over the top way they dramatise everything.
One of the opening lines from the program on Road Rage could easily be appropriated for an episode of Brasseye without any exageration or tampering for comedic effect "CYCLISTS AND MOTORISTS ARE AT WAR! OUR ROADS ARE NOW A BATTLE GROUND!"
If anything, language like this, and the variety of other techniques programs like this utilise, only serve to trivialise serious and sensitive subject matter by taking it into the realms of ridiculous melodrama.
That's all for today. But I will leave you with this, a short clip of satirical brilliance from the infamous Brasseye special:
Sunday, 6 January 2008
Picking up the old guitar again.
This whole post is about learning to play guitar again.
After my post about new years resolutions a friend of mine left a comment suggesting I pick up my guitar and start writing songs again. Up until I was about 21 years old I used to play my guitar all the time and I'm not being big headed when I say that I was pretty good. I was a strong rhythm player and wasn't bad at song writing either. It's difficult to say why it was I stopped playing, I think it was a gradual thing. The bands I had been in fell apart, and I remember becoming bored with a lot of music that was out at the time. I think I went through one of those phases where I was looking for a "new sound", or something that could at the very least provide me with some inspiration, but it didn't happen. I started listening to music less and less and my interest started moving towards film, hence why I am where I am today.
I never totally stopped playing the guitar, but unlike before where I would play it for hours everyday, over these past few years I would perhaps pick it up for for only 15 mins at a time once a week, or maybe even once every fortnight. But I have decided to take my friends advice to start playing again and write some new songs. I picked up my acoustic guitar with bags of enthusiasm, and I considered making some sort of pledge to myself that I would write one new song every week. But of course I started playing, and quickly realised that I'm not the player I used to be, and generating one song everyweek was perhaps a tad too ambitious.
I felt like a beginner again. The callouses that I had developed on my fingers when I first started playing at 14 years of age have now completely gone. My fingers are soft, and have lost much of their former dexterity and nimbleness. But really, this is all by the by. It won't take long for my fingertips to become hard again, and the dexterity will return, I'm just a little rusty. The basic skills are all there and I can still remember the chords. The thing I seem to be lacking is my musical creativity. I have made several attempts at trying to come up with a riff, or playing some chords and trying to develop some sort of melody but it doesn't seem to be happening. At first this left me feeling a little worried. Is it possible to just loose that knack for song writing?
But after much thought on the matter I realised that like my stiff clumsy fingers, I just needed practise. It's the same with writing. A lecturer on my course said that creativity is like a muscle. It's something that needs to be worked at everyday if you're gonna get any good. So, being out of practise with my guitar I decided I would approach it as if I were a beginner.
I first began playing when I was 14 years old and I never had guitar lessons. Like a lot of people I learnt to play by learning the songs of other bands. I would do this by downloading tabs of the internet or buying guitar tablature books, but after a while I was able to learn songs by ear. I never really learnt much music theory, I knew the notes on each fret but I didn't really know any of the scales. Instead I developed a natural feel of where the notes should go and what would come next. I don't really have that any more, and I know it will take a long time to get to that place again. But there are loads of sites on the internet that teach guitar so I'm using this as an opportunity to learn all the stuff I never learnt before. If I keep at it I might become an even better player than I was when I was 20 years old. I guess we'll see.
Now if you've read this post as far as this (because I have a feeling it's probably quite boring, I know I'm feeling a little bored writing this one. It's feeling like one of those youtube videos where some kid demonstrates the best way to eat a Jaffa Cake) I will show you a little exercise I found on a site that is supposed to help with developing dexterity in your left hand (unless your left handed, then do this with your right) and you won't need a guitar to do it.
Lay your hand on a flat surface and slightly arch your fingers...
Put them down and raise your middle and pinky fingers...
Now repeat this over and over and over and over again.
(this can be found on the site http://www.onlineguitarlessons.co.uk/)
When I first tried this I found it quite difficult to do. I was shocked that as an experienced (if out of practise) guitar player I should be able to do this with ease. It wasn't until I demonstrated the exercise to my housemate that I discovered the secret to doing it. Because as I showed him the exercise and complaining about how awkward I found it I realised that I had been doing it effortlessly for almost a minute as I was talking to him.
The trick is to not actually think about what you're doing. It seems the more concious effort you put into doing the exercise the more mistakes you make. It's like walking, we do it all the time without thinking about what we're doing, but the minute you start conciously thinking about the act of walking and where you should place your foot next you'll find it might become a little awkward.
That's enough rambling for now. Until tomorrow.
Saturday, 5 January 2008
When a small thing like God ruins a perfectly good movie
I have just got back from watching the film I am legend, feeling a little angry at how the film turned out. I'm not about to launch into an in depth critical review of the film but I am going to point out its greatest flaw and why I actually felt a little offended by it. I think most people are aware of the films premise and have seen the adverts, yes it is similar to the opening of 28 days later and through out most of the film it is just Wil Smith and his dog. But it works, it's entertaining and there's lots of tension, and I think most of the people in the audience were dreading the inevitable moment where his dog gets it (I really haven't spoilt it for you, we all knew it was gonna happen).
What spoilt the film was the introduction of a survivor near the final act who insists that God has spoken to her and he sent her to find Wil Smith, and everything that happens is part of God's plan etc. When she first says this to him he sensibly calls her mad, but by the films climax his views of course change and he almost takes on the role of a Jesus Christ figure. This sudden introduction of a Christian element to the film annoyed the hell out of me as it really seemed to have no place in the movie except for one short flashback scene with his dead family.
I haven't read the original book the film is adapted from but I am familiar with the story. In it, Smith's character, as the last human survivor, has been killing the infected humans, but by the end he finds out a small group of them have evolved and are becoming civilised but they fear him because he's been killing them all. He has become a legendary figure among this emerging new race, and realises he has become a monster to them. They eventually capture him and he commits suicide before they can publically execute him.
Now, the film seemed to be running along similar lines (well he's been catching some of them to try and cure them) until it cops out at the end with this Christian angle. Because that's what happened. A cop out. I am almost certain that the original script for this film had a very different ending because for me it felt like it turned into a different story for the last half hour. I found it made me angry because when she was asking Wil Smith to believe in God I felt like the film makers were asking me to believe in God, but I'm not a Christian. And then I thought of the other people in the audience. Fair enough they don't refer directly to Christianity, but they are refering to God in the sense of "the one true God" of the Abrahamic religeons, so it seems everyone else watching can fuck off.
But then I thought about other films with God or Christianity in it, such as Bruce Almighty. It didn't really bother me in the movie so why should it with this film? I think it's because it was made clear from the start what Bruce Almighty was about. There are many films out there that are about someone finding their faith, or with strong Christian values that are central to the story, but the theme is kept consistent throughout those movies and it's always set up early on. But I Am Legend seems to just springs it on you in the last act, and it felt out of place. It jolted me out of the movie.
I have had a brief look at the critical reception of this film and many of them say it has a weak last act though they don't cite the Christian element added to the film as the reason for blame (guess it's just me). But I am sure the real reason the last act fails is because the story changes in the last act and the film becomes something else from what they originally intended it to be. I think if they stuck with something similar to what they had in the ending of the original story they would have had produced a much better film with an ending that is consistent with the story they were trying to tell.
What spoilt the film was the introduction of a survivor near the final act who insists that God has spoken to her and he sent her to find Wil Smith, and everything that happens is part of God's plan etc. When she first says this to him he sensibly calls her mad, but by the films climax his views of course change and he almost takes on the role of a Jesus Christ figure. This sudden introduction of a Christian element to the film annoyed the hell out of me as it really seemed to have no place in the movie except for one short flashback scene with his dead family.
I haven't read the original book the film is adapted from but I am familiar with the story. In it, Smith's character, as the last human survivor, has been killing the infected humans, but by the end he finds out a small group of them have evolved and are becoming civilised but they fear him because he's been killing them all. He has become a legendary figure among this emerging new race, and realises he has become a monster to them. They eventually capture him and he commits suicide before they can publically execute him.
Now, the film seemed to be running along similar lines (well he's been catching some of them to try and cure them) until it cops out at the end with this Christian angle. Because that's what happened. A cop out. I am almost certain that the original script for this film had a very different ending because for me it felt like it turned into a different story for the last half hour. I found it made me angry because when she was asking Wil Smith to believe in God I felt like the film makers were asking me to believe in God, but I'm not a Christian. And then I thought of the other people in the audience. Fair enough they don't refer directly to Christianity, but they are refering to God in the sense of "the one true God" of the Abrahamic religeons, so it seems everyone else watching can fuck off.
But then I thought about other films with God or Christianity in it, such as Bruce Almighty. It didn't really bother me in the movie so why should it with this film? I think it's because it was made clear from the start what Bruce Almighty was about. There are many films out there that are about someone finding their faith, or with strong Christian values that are central to the story, but the theme is kept consistent throughout those movies and it's always set up early on. But I Am Legend seems to just springs it on you in the last act, and it felt out of place. It jolted me out of the movie.
I have had a brief look at the critical reception of this film and many of them say it has a weak last act though they don't cite the Christian element added to the film as the reason for blame (guess it's just me). But I am sure the real reason the last act fails is because the story changes in the last act and the film becomes something else from what they originally intended it to be. I think if they stuck with something similar to what they had in the ending of the original story they would have had produced a much better film with an ending that is consistent with the story they were trying to tell.
Friday, 4 January 2008
Hell is other people (it's not as bad as it sounds)
At last, I got paid to day so I was able to buy some food that isn't pasta. I even got up early this morning to go down the local cafe and have a fry up and it was amazing. I really can't remember the last time I had one, I think it might've been over a month ago on my housemates birthday.
Ordering and waiting for my food was a slightly awkward experience though. The lady who works in the cafe is a really nice, friendly, and welcoming person who enjoys small talk. I however, am quiet, at times stand offish, not unfriendly but not always the warmest person either, and I really really hate small talk. To me it's pointless talk. They call it small talk because it is about nothing, and people only really use it with people they don't know because for some reason, when you don't know someone very well, silence is uncomfortable and wrong. In those moments we all seem to forget that often with friends and loved ones there are times conversation stops and you share long moments of silence togther that can go by unnoticed.
Back to the lady in the cafe, like I said she's friendly and likes to chat, though really it's kind of one sided, which suits me fine. She just makes short bubbly statements that don't necessarily require an answer; that I can just smile and nod my head to, and she seems happy with that. I've found that the kind of women you generally find working in places like greasy spoons and burger vans actually find me quite sweet and think I have a lovely smile (though according to one friend I have a face that says "I'm gonna fuck you hard", so maybe that's why they take a shine to me (when my friend made that comment to me about my face I took it as a compliment, but I have since started to think that it could be interpreted to mean that I have one of those faces that says "I'm gonna rape you"). So ordering my food this time wasn't too bad as I didn't really have to say anything.
While waiting for my food I began to feel uncomfortable again. I made the mistake of not bringing a paper, which means having sit around pretending to read the menus off the walls or looking at my table. In most restaurants or cafes waiting around generally isn't a problem, but like I said the woman in the cafe was quite chatty and I was afraid at any minute she was gonna say something to me like "cheer up love, it might never happen". I know it sounds neurotic for me to think like this, but that particular phrase is said to me all the time because people think I look unhappy even though I'm not. It's just the way my face sits. I'm not saying I'm bursting with joy in those particular moments, I'm usually either in a state of indifference or in deep thought about something. In fact, someone telling me to cheer up when I'm enjoying a perfectly good think will almost certainly put me in a bad mood.
So to avoid this happening I looked around to see if there was a newspaper free but it looked like the four builders sitting at the table next to me already had them all. I then considered going across the road to the newsagents to buy a paper, but if i did that I would have to buy the Sun, Mirror, or *shudder* the Daily Mail. To walk back in and sit down to read the Guardian could draw negative attention from the Daily Star reading builders next to me, because a) I'm a reading a "lefty" newspaper, and b) they'll realise I'm a student. In the end I opted not to leave to buy a newspaper and just waited for my food to arrive, desperately hoping that the lady in the cafe wouldn't make a comment regarding the state of my face (the emotional state that she thinks it's projecting I mean).
Now I know I was probably overthinking the situation far too much, shifting myself into the realms of paranoia, but this is the way I think nearly all the time. But I do know that I'm not the only one. Like a friend of mine who has a fear of walking past groups of young girls because he thinks they might start trying to shout at him or make fun. I have another friend who now walks further away than he should have to so he can buy cigerrettes in a shop where the woman who serves him is rude and abrasive because he can't think of anything new to chat about with the guy in his local shop.
If I'm honest though, I've always been paranoid, it's not been a subtle progression into neurosis. For example, when I was about four I really liked fish (still do), but I refused to eat fish that had come out of a can or a packet. I didn't trust it. I wasn't convinced it was real fish and I would make my dad go to the fish mongers and buy a fish with it's head still attached. With morbid fascination I would insist on watching him cut its head off and prepare it in the kitchen to make sure he wasn't goint to try and switch it with the canned stuff.
Another case in point, this evening when I went to the bus stop to catch my bus to work, as I approached the stop, a woman/girl (i'll explain in a minute) who was sitting waiting for her bus stared at me for longer than felt comfortable. I imediately thought that there must be something wrong with me, like a bird had shat on my head, or maybe she thought I had one of those "I'm gonna rape you" faces. I began to feel very concious of myself. To avoid her stares I stood behind her.
She turned her head and looked at me again. I put my hand to my face to check there was nothing on it. But then I considered the possibility that perhaps she was checking me out, but perhaps a little (a lot) more blantantly than a girl would usually check a guy out.
Over the next couple of minutes she frequently looked my way and I became more certain that she was looking at me, but in some ways it was too late for me to want to do anything about it. That initial look from her as I came up to the bus stop had made me feel a little uncomfortable and freaked me out a little and it wasn't going away. Plus there was the issue of her age. I tried to glance over at her a few times without letting her see me staring just as she would turn her head away from looking at me. She seemed to look different each time I looked at her. One minute she looked like a fairly attractive girl of around 21, but I would look again and she looked like she could be a woman in her mid to late thirties, and not quite as attractive.
Then the moment came when it was made very clear that she was looking at me. She got out of her seat to look at the bus times behind her and pretended to read it for a few moments. Then, rather than turning back to her right to face the direction she was facing before and the direction the bus would be coming from, she instead made a needless and almost bizarre looking 360 degree turn to her left, looking at me as she went round and back to the direction she was facing before. Still undecided whether she was young and attractive, or over thirty and not so attractive (i think she was probably still attractive), I realised it didn't matter what she looked like because I now thought she was a little odd and was scaring me a little.
Anyway, the bus came shortly after and like a gentlemen I let her get on before me, which also meant that I could choose to sit away from her. Now I could be left alone with my thoughts, not having to worry about someone staring at me or telling me to "cheer up". It might never happen.
Dan
Ordering and waiting for my food was a slightly awkward experience though. The lady who works in the cafe is a really nice, friendly, and welcoming person who enjoys small talk. I however, am quiet, at times stand offish, not unfriendly but not always the warmest person either, and I really really hate small talk. To me it's pointless talk. They call it small talk because it is about nothing, and people only really use it with people they don't know because for some reason, when you don't know someone very well, silence is uncomfortable and wrong. In those moments we all seem to forget that often with friends and loved ones there are times conversation stops and you share long moments of silence togther that can go by unnoticed.
Back to the lady in the cafe, like I said she's friendly and likes to chat, though really it's kind of one sided, which suits me fine. She just makes short bubbly statements that don't necessarily require an answer; that I can just smile and nod my head to, and she seems happy with that. I've found that the kind of women you generally find working in places like greasy spoons and burger vans actually find me quite sweet and think I have a lovely smile (though according to one friend I have a face that says "I'm gonna fuck you hard", so maybe that's why they take a shine to me (when my friend made that comment to me about my face I took it as a compliment, but I have since started to think that it could be interpreted to mean that I have one of those faces that says "I'm gonna rape you"). So ordering my food this time wasn't too bad as I didn't really have to say anything.
While waiting for my food I began to feel uncomfortable again. I made the mistake of not bringing a paper, which means having sit around pretending to read the menus off the walls or looking at my table. In most restaurants or cafes waiting around generally isn't a problem, but like I said the woman in the cafe was quite chatty and I was afraid at any minute she was gonna say something to me like "cheer up love, it might never happen". I know it sounds neurotic for me to think like this, but that particular phrase is said to me all the time because people think I look unhappy even though I'm not. It's just the way my face sits. I'm not saying I'm bursting with joy in those particular moments, I'm usually either in a state of indifference or in deep thought about something. In fact, someone telling me to cheer up when I'm enjoying a perfectly good think will almost certainly put me in a bad mood.
So to avoid this happening I looked around to see if there was a newspaper free but it looked like the four builders sitting at the table next to me already had them all. I then considered going across the road to the newsagents to buy a paper, but if i did that I would have to buy the Sun, Mirror, or *shudder* the Daily Mail. To walk back in and sit down to read the Guardian could draw negative attention from the Daily Star reading builders next to me, because a) I'm a reading a "lefty" newspaper, and b) they'll realise I'm a student. In the end I opted not to leave to buy a newspaper and just waited for my food to arrive, desperately hoping that the lady in the cafe wouldn't make a comment regarding the state of my face (the emotional state that she thinks it's projecting I mean).
Now I know I was probably overthinking the situation far too much, shifting myself into the realms of paranoia, but this is the way I think nearly all the time. But I do know that I'm not the only one. Like a friend of mine who has a fear of walking past groups of young girls because he thinks they might start trying to shout at him or make fun. I have another friend who now walks further away than he should have to so he can buy cigerrettes in a shop where the woman who serves him is rude and abrasive because he can't think of anything new to chat about with the guy in his local shop.
If I'm honest though, I've always been paranoid, it's not been a subtle progression into neurosis. For example, when I was about four I really liked fish (still do), but I refused to eat fish that had come out of a can or a packet. I didn't trust it. I wasn't convinced it was real fish and I would make my dad go to the fish mongers and buy a fish with it's head still attached. With morbid fascination I would insist on watching him cut its head off and prepare it in the kitchen to make sure he wasn't goint to try and switch it with the canned stuff.
Another case in point, this evening when I went to the bus stop to catch my bus to work, as I approached the stop, a woman/girl (i'll explain in a minute) who was sitting waiting for her bus stared at me for longer than felt comfortable. I imediately thought that there must be something wrong with me, like a bird had shat on my head, or maybe she thought I had one of those "I'm gonna rape you" faces. I began to feel very concious of myself. To avoid her stares I stood behind her.
She turned her head and looked at me again. I put my hand to my face to check there was nothing on it. But then I considered the possibility that perhaps she was checking me out, but perhaps a little (a lot) more blantantly than a girl would usually check a guy out.
Over the next couple of minutes she frequently looked my way and I became more certain that she was looking at me, but in some ways it was too late for me to want to do anything about it. That initial look from her as I came up to the bus stop had made me feel a little uncomfortable and freaked me out a little and it wasn't going away. Plus there was the issue of her age. I tried to glance over at her a few times without letting her see me staring just as she would turn her head away from looking at me. She seemed to look different each time I looked at her. One minute she looked like a fairly attractive girl of around 21, but I would look again and she looked like she could be a woman in her mid to late thirties, and not quite as attractive.
Then the moment came when it was made very clear that she was looking at me. She got out of her seat to look at the bus times behind her and pretended to read it for a few moments. Then, rather than turning back to her right to face the direction she was facing before and the direction the bus would be coming from, she instead made a needless and almost bizarre looking 360 degree turn to her left, looking at me as she went round and back to the direction she was facing before. Still undecided whether she was young and attractive, or over thirty and not so attractive (i think she was probably still attractive), I realised it didn't matter what she looked like because I now thought she was a little odd and was scaring me a little.
Anyway, the bus came shortly after and like a gentlemen I let her get on before me, which also meant that I could choose to sit away from her. Now I could be left alone with my thoughts, not having to worry about someone staring at me or telling me to "cheer up". It might never happen.
Dan
Thursday, 3 January 2008
Getting the joke (and then some)
Today's post isn't gonna be about much as not a great deal has happened since yesterday, and there is nothing really major on my mind. I haven't got any new bugbears that are getting to me (i'm speaking metaphorically, not of the mythological bugbear that eats children) but I'm trying to make sure I write something in here every day even if it is about nothing in particular.
So I'm just gonna post something in here that I read the other night that made me laugh. It's from a book on stand-up comedy called Getting the Joke by Oliver Double and the chapter this is taken from is all about working the audience. The general gist of the chapter is about the exchange of energy between the comedian and the audience. This particular excerpt is from an interview with a comedian called James Campbell:
I'm off to get some work done now. Got my minor project pitching session in a month so I'll probably do a little bit on that and I gotta try and get 2000 words on my dissertation done by the end of January as well, and so far I got zip... But I'm not worried (probably a bit of a stupid thing to say but it's true).
Until tomorrow
Dan
So I'm just gonna post something in here that I read the other night that made me laugh. It's from a book on stand-up comedy called Getting the Joke by Oliver Double and the chapter this is taken from is all about working the audience. The general gist of the chapter is about the exchange of energy between the comedian and the audience. This particular excerpt is from an interview with a comedian called James Campbell:
I could just imagine the first time James Campbell did a comedy routine to kids without being aware of this phenomenon. Getting halfway through his routine and the realisation dawning on him that the kids won't stop laughing. He's stopped telling jokes but they're still going and he becomes scared. He tries to shout for them to calm down but they're not listening. They're like those weasels from Who framed Roger Rabbit and they're in danger of laughing themselves to death. The parents rush in to settle their kids down but they can't. He's created a monster and they can't stop it. And even as he walks away and out of the building he can still hear them; their wails of laughter still haunting him.James Campbell finds that playing to audiences of children means he has to pay particular attention to energy levels: "With an adult stand-up gig, you try and build it and build it and build it until you've got people literally rolling around in the aisles with tears streaming down their face. You try and do that with a kids' audience, they get hysterical. And the lid just blows off. So you have to keep calming them down every now and again. So you don't get that constant build up. You can do it to a certain extent, towards the end, but I mean some of them will literally wet themselves... There is nothing more horrible than the sound of three hundred children laughing because you've paused. You get that fake laughter, hysterical laughter. They're just laughing because they're supposed to be laughing, and they can't remember why they're supposed to be laughing. It's horrible, it's demonic."
I'm off to get some work done now. Got my minor project pitching session in a month so I'll probably do a little bit on that and I gotta try and get 2000 words on my dissertation done by the end of January as well, and so far I got zip... But I'm not worried (probably a bit of a stupid thing to say but it's true).
Until tomorrow
Dan
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