{Holding Out For A Hobo}

FInale

2009-04-01T12:10:00.002Z

OK this is the final post on this blog, because I am migrating to Wordpress instead. I fell for the flashy setup and the cooler templates. So move on down to my new one - Albion and Avalon. (Albion is the oldest name of Britain and Avalon is the place King Arthur went when he died and legend says he will return from there when England is most in need of a King - cool innit? No?)

The Outcome of Education - Who's Porter Anyway?

2009-03-21T16:31:00.004Z

'And what model did you use to reach your strategic options?'

I just stood there and posed uncomfortably. I hoped my answer would have been good enough and that my ears weren't bright red. They always go that way when I stand up in a room that is electrified by the hot stares of my classmates, whose faces looked like they would collapse under the weight of their sickeningly sympathetic expressions.

It had better be good. 'We looked at the weaknesses section of our Swot analysis and found blah blah blah' should do it. Now I was praying that my friend would actually say the words. He was the one asked the question after all and if I spoke for him then I'm sure my well fed lecturer would have eaten me alive.

After that ordeal I realised something - that all I have ever done in this module is learn little models like Porter's Five Force Analysis and assume that this is what must be done to analyse a firm. Who the heck is this Porter anyway?

That got me thinking.

I know learning is about receiving and absorbing knowledge (a mixture of information and experiences) but education is ridiculous. If any of the lecturers actually wanted my opinion they wouldn't ask for miles of research or sky-high bibliographies. I wasn't even told why I should trust this 'Porter' whoever he - or she - is. I immediately started to rant on about how it's the bookwriters who assume some kind of superiority and everyone else unquestioningly falls in line behind them to make sure they're not sniped when peeking their head out of the box. Then I realised that even the writers constantly cross-reference eachother like there's some kind of conspiracy to rule our minds. Most writers don't even put anything original on their pages anyway. So it is actually the educational elite who were told by someone or other that what they say would be law.

Oh well, it's just a degree anyway.

Don't get me wrong, I always used to love to learn. I've had a habit of rattling off random know-how for years and loved every second of it because it shows the glorious amount of diversity and creativity God put into His worlds. Its been my thing since I was a baby but university effectively killed my creativity and zeal for getting something new in my head. Now it's just been a race of endurance and the only thing I can say I have learnt was how to pray really really well.

Yet I'm at the end of that race.

Just like that class presentation the heat is on but this time its not the microwave glares of classmates that are getting my blood boiling or giving me a cold sweat. It's the prospect of actually overcoming this last part and getting to graduation. Probably the only thing more scary is what the heck I will do after that. Maybe I could make it my mission to meet 'Porter' and trust in their apparently unquestionable wisdom. If this genderless deity has mind blowing words then surely their answers to my present case of post-uni blues must be dynamite...

Stop the hate!

2007-09-07T12:06:00.000Z

Whilst perusing the Empire Online website I stumbled upon a blog entitled: 'Academy of the Overrated'. In which the blogger began to say what he thought to be overrated in cinema today. Commentors then went on a frenzy afterwards listing all the films they hated.

Initially I like the way things were going. I have always felt that people have been very elitist in their approach to films and accept some films and filmmakers to be undisputed classics. And if anyone would be so bold as to say that they didn't like a particular film, then they would become the outcasts of cinema. So is this a golden opportunity for us to come out of hiding and for once voice our opinions without fear of reproach? I'm afraid not.

When it comes to saying that films are overrated, we begin to make exactly the same mistake as the aforementioned elitists. We criticise them. For example, I think that Quentin Tarantino's films are vastly overrated (with the exception of Jackie Brown which I think is his best film and is ironically forgotten by most). I could easily continue to tear into Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill and those who close-mindedly assume they are factually the best films ever made. I would be making the same mistake as them by saying that these films are crap and no one can say otherwise.

What everyone forgets in their whirlwind of opinion is that films are enjoyed by just that - opinion. All films are works of art and as such, different people relate to them in different ways. We cannot assume that a film is good or bad in itself, but we can say why we like or dislike it. It's that simple.

Yes I think that Tarantino, Kubrik and Hitchcock are overrated, but my definition of 'overrated' has changed to: closed-mindedly considered perfect without any room for difference of opinion.

So having said that, here goes my Academy of the Overrated:
-Pulp Fiction (brilliant manipulation of narrative, but that's about it)
-Reservoir Dogs (boring and characters lack any reality, like Pulp Fiction)
-2001: A Space Odyssey (felt like a very long introduction before a nonexistent inciting incident)
-Donnie Darko (thought I had missed something, but after repeated viewings realised that was it)
-The Departed (a remake that had made sure I didn't care about the characters or what was going on. And Scorcese gets all the credit for doing a rubbish version of a little-known original. Hollywood should be ashamed.)

All these are my opinion, but I think people should think twice for belittling someone else's.

PLUMS UNITE!

2007-05-18T16:30:00.000Z

After a long absence from the blogging world I'm back and bigger than ever. Or at least I've picked up a stone (woot). After a faith testing ordeal like nothing before, I've come out the other side even stronger in my faith and ready for more (stay tuned for a blog saying I regret it).

It's that great feeling of coming out of something amazing and into something magnificent. Of giving something in sacrifice and then realising you were given something immeasurably priceless without even knowing it. Of biting into a Lindt chocolate bar and finding all manner of tasty crap inside...(excuse me for spacing out at that last one).

Well for anyone who cares it was the end of my exams for the first year of uni. It had its ups and serious downs, yet I'm surprised at the strength God has given me even when I haven't revised nearly as much as I needed to (I only really started revising public law the night before - no really).

One problem I've aways had with exams is how stupid it really is when it comes down to it. I don't even need to set foot in a law firm or chambers to know that it won't be like walking en mass into a cavernous sports hall, with only a pen (I suppose if they allowed anything there would be too many suicides - you gotta hand it to them for still trying to slit their wrists with their pens).

And now that's out of the way, I can look forward to friends and sunlight. I can focus on waterfights, setting up jazz society and getting on with writing my first feature-length script. Speaking of which, I've been revisiting all the old short films I've loved over the years. And quite possibly the greatest short film I've ever seen (yes, better than mine) is Midnight by Marc Price and Nowhere Fast Productions. I cannot recommend this film enough. The use of seclusion, claustrophobia and searing hot emotion is put into the most intimate and everyday settings. The outside world doesn't exist beyond the doors of the car or the blinds over the living room window. No knowledge of what is happening outside isn't helped by the news footage of reporters with nothing left to say on the situation they obviously don't want to admit to themselves. Upon returning to it i realised just how similar the themes could be to my own script that I have been writing. Only I have a slightly different focus, maximising on the reality of the world inside and the unseen world outside our self-imposed boundaries. Hopefully I won't be a plum and muck it up. It's difficult enough as it is.

And to top it all, another great Little Gamers cartoon. Check them out here they're cool.

YES!

2007-02-26T23:33:00.001Z

{See previous blog - Hallelujah!}

Aaaaaaaah!!!!

2007-02-26T10:38:00.000Z

I have an assessment to go to, and I only prepared for it yesterday. Props to the jammy gits who have theirs in something like 3 weeks X-(

That just isn't fair. How comes I have to do this all weeks before many other people?

They gave us real police materials from a rape case (changing the names) and we have to say in 5 mins why we think the defendant is not/guilty. So I think I'll break the record for speaking very very quickly. If I stall to think for just one second, then that's it, I would have broken the 5 min limit.

The tutor's going to ask questions designed to scupper our argument and I have the vague feeling that he's going to succeed.

But I've prayed against it, so I have faith that as I walk with God, he will grant me success along the pathway. My next blog will be very short. "Yes" - I said all I wanted to say and I answered the questions comfortably; "Maybe" - I did one, but failed the other; "No" - I went over the time limit and couldn't answer the questions.

Salsa - a dynamic mixture...

2007-02-25T12:03:00.000Z

...of heaven and hell.

I went with the salsa society to Club Colosseum in London last night. Pretty much still being a salsa virgin it was my first time seeing people seriously getting their groove on with each other so energetically. At first it was difficult plucking up the courage to ask random women to dance, but I eventually did and possibly at the worst possible time. I asked her if she wanted to dance and she walked out in to the dance floor with me saying: "I'm not very good at Bachatta." Uh-oh I thought, I had to ask someone to do a dance I've never heard of. So I saw it as an opportunity to learn something new. I got her to teach me the Bachatta basics instead.

Spurred with confidence after that, I decided to ask another for a dance. I dragged her as far into the floor as possible so my atrocious dancing wouldn't get spotted by any women waiting for partners around the edges. And I managed to fit in basic steps and the same 3 moves OVER and OVER again. And her smile wasn't just a polite grimace, but toned down laughter at my festive incompetence. I kicked and stamped on those unlucky enough to be in my vicinity and cannoned my partner into another couple, aiming to execute one of my favourite moves where we both let go and spin. She got flicked sideways into someone else and i stepped on someone's foot (I don't think my feet ever touched the floor in there, I was just walking on everyone else's shoes). Her face was a mixture of surprise at suddenly being let go, and then an intrigued and sympathetic giggle that wondered why I thought I was good enough to execute such a move. So I laughed, ignored it and dragged her into the same move for the fourth time.

Thankfully women in salsa have to follow their partner, for better or worse.

2007-01-23T17:01:00.001Z

Gleurgh

Right, this is it..

2007-01-23T16:32:00.000Z

WHY OH WHY DO PEOPLE FEEL THEY HAVE TO LISTEN TO MUSIC ON THEIR MOBILE PHONES ON THE BUS/TRAIN/IN PUBLIC PLACES? WHAT'S WRONG WITH A PAIR OF HEADPHONES? I mean if it was an undiscovered seminal masterpiece and requires the mobile phone owner to jump on their chair and shout out 'Listen to this! It affirmed my life and saved my mother from cancer!' then maybe I would pay attention (or at least have some amusement).

But no.

IT'S A TINNY DRONING DRAWL THAT NO ONE ELSE LIKES! Look around you, do you see people unable to stay in their chairs for the irresistible urge to dance in the aisles? Are they asking you what that tune is, or flocking to chat to a person with such amazing taste in music? At least get a boombox or something that can make music sound more like music and less like a tumult of screaming ants (yeah).

AND WHY IS IT ALWAYS EMINEM OR 50 'DIED TRYING' CENT? Why is it always some person making money from droning through a tune written about:
(a) How they are so great and so much better than everyone else.
(b) Chatting up a person in da clurb.
(c) Chatting someone up in general.

Judging by the top-of-the-range phone that you recklessly wave around public places I don't think it would be a stretch to go out and buy a pair of headphones. And yes, that does mean you would have to go to a real music store for once (instead of downloading pirated stuff) and get them. It may just save your phone from being taken/knocked away/stamped on by other commuters on the day when we will all have a revolution against crimes against sanity.

That's all.

Soderberg's take on 'Solaris'.

2007-01-13T15:37:00.000Z

The other day I felt like I had one of those revelatory moments. I was sitting there watching a film I've seen too many times. I was heading out of 'casual film watcher' and into the sad and humiliating territory of 'sci-fi buff'. Oh well. I suppose that was destined to be, since I was spell-bound by 'Star Wars' when I was very little. Since then I've been groomed (reluctantly, I should add) to acquire this role through endless (and usually tacky) Star Wars merchandise in every birthday and xmas present. Only upon becoming an adult have I finally been given the sole discretion as to which route to take in filling George Lucas' horribly distended pockets. Anyway, back to a film just as epic, but in the vastness of the 'human condition' instead of the emptiness of space.

At first viewing I, along with critics and audiences of all kinds worldwide hated this film. To me it was because of the infuriatingly pompous 'atheistic' philosophising of some of the characters; the suicidally dull and stationary plot that never seemed to move beyond the feelings of the main character; the lack of anything that characterises a science fiction film. But somehow I went back for a second sitting. And that was when I realised that there was far more to it then that.

This is part of what I felt God was saying to me through that film:

The nature of Solaris and Christianity.
As G.Barian says in the film: 'We're not looking for new worlds, we're looking for mirrors.' Considering this quote, I thought that the other planets may be symbols of people or things that we look towards to interact with. But, being mirrors, it may be that we seek our own reflections in them. Someone or something to identify with and thus feel accepted.
But the reason why this film, like the space station, gravitates around Solaris (a planet, for want of a better word) is because it is the most difficult mirror of them all to look into. And this may be because of its true reflection. I found that in someways to be a manifestation of Christ or the Holy Spirit. Before we can truly accept Jesus' as the Way Truth and Life, we must first see our reflection. At first look, it may be difficult to accept the sinful image of our sinful natures and imperfection staring back at us. Calvin came to realise that when Solaris recreated his dead wife, it was showing him how incomplete his memory was of her, and that there was more to her than he had chosen to remember. But even with such realisations, all of the crew failed to move past this mirror. One locked their 'visitor' away and then destroyed it; one tried to kill it in a feral fit of rage; one killed himself; and Calvin wanted to use a facsimile as a way of atoning for his unloving hand in her suicide many years before.
It was this that helped him to 'get past the mirror'. But with Calvin, as with Christianity, trying to redeem yourself is a doomed attempt. Rhea (his wife's facsimile) had to sacrifice herself (even at his unhinged protests) in order for him to properly let go of her memory. And it was only then that he would come to realise that he had no affinity for earth any more. And this meant he could choose Solaris - like choosing heaven over the world. And the last words uttered are "Am I dead, or alive?" "We don't have to think like that anymore. Everything has been forgiven. Everything."
God used it to illustrate the an abstract nature behind The Gospel, and there is still far more to this film than I just described.

And what of the infuriatingly pompous 'atheistic' philosophising I hear you groan?
A scene from back on earth involves G.Barian, Calvin and others sitting to a meal in some swankily dark lit restaurant and ambushing Rhea (whilst still alive, thankfully) on God not existing. Interestingly, Calvin is the only one to actually argue his point. The others merely theorise on why humans believe in God, not even recognising the presence of someone who sincerely believes there is one. One person comments that God is merely dreamed up by men. I found it ironic as Solaris manages to reverse that view for two of the foremost sceptics who sat at that table. Both G.Barian and Calvin end up witnessing Solaris 'dreaming up' figures from their lives with ease. Maybe saying that we could be the earth's dream (G.Barian asking Calvin later: "Am I a puppet? Or maybe you're a puppet. Only you believe you are real."). But I take Solaris to be more than a planet. It shows that we are created by God and His Word and His Voice, not the other way round.

Homesickness

2007-01-06T21:38:00.000Z

I'm back at the Cathedral City and it almost feels the same as it did when I first came down here. The usual texture of sudden, delicate and unfounded uncertainty bleached my pallet of any fickle security. Even with London two, maybe three hours away it takes exact effect. Maybe it doesn't matter how far away you are from where you call home for some kind of loneliness to take a sightless hold on the senses.

Maybe it isn't the distance at all, as it was the first step towards a new place that cuts a person off from the old place. And the familiar silhouette - ignorance of the destination - waits on ahead to be filled. But there was one event that recently happened that reminded me that no one has to feel this way.

Last night, when I was packing my suitcase again to leave my parents' house, they told me that my granddad had just died. At first I reacted in a similar way to when my other granddad had died two years ago from the same illness (cancer; who hasn't got it these days?). There was no reaction whatsoever. Not a blink. Maybe it was because I had already accepted and mourned their death when they were still on this side of living.

But the reason I draw strength is the reason why this time I feel I must rejoice. Whilst waiting in the hospice for death to come, he was drawn to the cross on the wall. He gave his life to Jesus shortly afterwards. At the most critical time he chose God and I can look forward to seeing him with those I love in heaven. This brings me to my main point: since the start of my Christian walk, I have known of where I will end up: heaven. So how can I feel aimless and remote? My path leads one way, along a difficult but albeit narrow road. Hallelujah! So my steps will be dictated accordingly.

All of a sudden I don't feel uncertain.

Chillaxing at home.

2006-12-19T13:32:00.000Z

And to begin my yet-to-be-critically-acclaimed slew of blogs, I will say that I am very very smug (obviously another one of those babbling posts that - and I will save you the bother now - shouldn't be read).

And the reason being that I am sitting here, back in Croydon (OK the area's not the reason), enjoying my month long xmas holiday from university. I've recovered from the emotional evisceration sustained by the first term of a law degree, but I digress.

I feel like such a jammy git sitting here on the computer without a care in the world (although I should be very concerned about a lot of things), typing a lazy blog, listening to some very pleasant Digable Planets, eating some noodle soup and looking forward to finally watching that DVD of 'Memoirs of a Geisha'. I feel all very Japanese (apart from being in England and listening to jazz-rap).

Xmas is just around the corner and my birthday has just passed. 19 and luvving it. I know that this probably means that God's just giving me a breather before throwing some massively stressful ordeal my way, but I'm beginning to actually have faith that He will actually be there through the peaks and troughs. And I mean beyond initially knowing that he would be there. Follow this line of posts and you may look forward to witnessing a massively embarrassing emotional breakdown when I actually start the ordeal. That's your incentive to read on and my selling point.

'Set your eyes to Zion, Jah Jah people ride on.' -the venerable words of P.O.D

Mmmm...fresh new blog smell.

2006-12-19T12:18:00.000Z

Come one come all,
With a blog drawing to a close some time must be given to the (annoyed) memory of a (horrendously coloured page and senseless) contribution to such a colourful and exciting plethora of blogs. But little more must be given, for a new era has dawned (got bored with it). A new site has begun (could last about a month). It will be both the forum for unrestrained philosophical thought (aimless ramblings) and virtuous creativity (might post a random angry poem or some film ideas for criticism). Rejoice! (Groan!) For this new age harks to actual conversation of yore, and heralds a renaissance of laziness on my part.

In other words:

I'm diggin this heavy new level of phatness coz I can holler sum fresh communications to the cats chillin in their pads and groovin to a remixed slip of Verve the third.

In other words:

This is a new blog, but then chances are you knew that because you witnessed the atrocities of my previous one.

BTW: I also love www.littlegamers.com