Stick It To The Man! Or Not….

So, no one came, and no one conquered.  Despite the threat of ‘the biggest ever attack’ against Sony, Anonymous failed to back up their threats this weekend with their planned #opsony boycott of all stores globally.

To be honest, it was a big ask anyway really wasn’t it?  Sure people can tick a ‘Likes This’ box or ‘I’m Attending’ on Facebook, but it seems that’s as far as effort went from the some 3000 that ‘signed up’ to Anonymous’ rallying call.  But again, for a global attack, 3000 is not alot of people.

The first thing that struck me about the whole thing when I heard about it last week was that Anonymous taking to the streets to let Sony know what they feel kind of removed the whole anonymity associated with their name.  Masks or no masks.

The second thing is, looking at the internet in the week leading to the event, there didn’t seem much support for Anonymous.  Many thought their logic in their DoS attacks on the PSN etc was flawed as ‘fighting for the user’ by denying said users access to a product they’d paid for, seemed a bit of a snap decision that didn’t carry over so well to the general public.

Thirdly, I don’t want to label Anonymous at all and say they’re all a bunch of bedroom dwelling geeks with zero social skills, as I’m pretty sure most of them aren’t. However, judging by the dismal turnout over the weekend, it could be that they were garnering interest from that kind of crowd, a crowd which would prefer to stay in on their weekends as opposed to ‘sticking it to the man’.  I’m pretty unsociable at the best of times, so I can see how simply leaving the house would of taken alot of effort.  Especially if I’ve got control of the TV and a games controller to hand (and that the PSN is up and running of course).

I applauded their decisions and actions regarding Wikileaks.  The Julian Assange case was something I could get behind.  Getting pissed off because someone who cracked a games console, released the codes and subsequently got his arse smacked for it, is something I and many others can’t get behind.  There was a malicious intent to the Geohotz case, regardless of how they dress it up with homebrew and customisation.  The ability to pirate software, the fruits of someones labour and ultimately, what defines their wage packet was the biggest problem Sony had with it all.  And seemingly most other people.

I’ve been reading in the days after the planned ‘biggest attack’ and it seems only a handful stepped up to the plate and out of their front door to do anything.  Viewing Google’s realtime feeds of Twitter seemed to show people bemused and slightly aggrieved at going to so much effort where others didn’t.  I saw one poster claiming it was a victory, showing 2 pictures of the exact same store in Manchester (one of a very very select few to actually close it’s doors – only for no protesters to show up).  One store belonging to a global company is not a success.  The money lost at that particular store is probably loose change in the grand scheme of things.

I’m wondering if the whole thing was a hoax, in an attempt to scare Sony into shutting down for the weekend.  It was a bluff Sony seemingly called them on.  Supporters seemingly just keep posting the pictures of the exact same store, from multiple angles and seemingly thinking it was a victory.

I walked past the store in Liverpool’s L1 and it was the quietest store there.  Three salesmen milling around, the door wide open allowing everyone and anyone in, not a single Guy Fawkes mask in sight.

It’ll be interesting to see what Anonymous respond with, if they respond at all.  That was a major burn at the weekend given the amount of press coverage they’ve been receiving.  Will they skulk off with their tail between their legs, or will they dust themselves off and come out fighting?

I’d be personally inclined to back down and refocus efforts on something worthwhile that people can get behind.  The Assange case was a good one and gave me respect for Anonymous.  #Opsony has took it away again.

I’m assuming pride has taken a dent, especially the guy in this photo.

We Are Not Alone, 2012, NWO, Illuminati Lizard Men!???!111!!??!!!11?

They Live....apparently

Don’t worry, all will be revealed regarding the blog title.  I can assure you I’ve not done a David Icke and started wearing a turquoise shellsuit. I’m of completely sound mind.

I’ve just found my calming nirvana is all.

After years languishing on social network sites, trying to find that little escape on the internet where the voices tell you “Hey, it’s alright.  You’re not going batshit bonkers.  You’re just a little stressed.  Here, take the weight off your feet and relax.”

If ever you get the feeling life in general is getting on top of you, that workload is mounting with each passing day, there’s bills you need to pay, there’s social commitments you need to attend (that you really don’t want to) and that you feel all is lost, I recommend this:

Go on any fortean/conspiracy theory website on the web.  All forum topics are titled the same way this blog is.

You’ll soon be bathed in a glow from the monitor that you’ve never quite felt before.  A glow that seems to say,
“Hey mate, things aren’t so bad.  Check out the shit these people believe.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I have an interest in some of the stuff that goes down on there, otherwise I wouldn’t be there, but the vast majority (I’d say 99.99999999% to be exact) is complete and utter fear mongering science fiction clap trap.

Take the horrific incidents in Japan for example.  Rather than put it down to the fact that Japan is on the border of the ring of fire and earthquakes are a natural everyday occurence for them, and that given on average the big earthquakes hit once every 80 years (the last being 1923, so it was impending to say the least) the conspiracy theorists of certain websites (I won’t name them, just aim for the most popular on the net) have other ideas.

So far this week I’ve read:

• A weather control device controlled by America to put the final nail in Japan’s financial coffin (oh and of course revenge for Pearl Harbor).
• 2012 prophecy coming to fruition (yawn)
• Hidden messages in Family Guy and Illuminati Top Trumps hinting years in advance this would all happen.
• The radiation leak is intentional to somehow cull a large percentage of the world’s population as per the Georgia guidestones recommendation of keeping it at 500 million.
• This one however takes the absolute cake.  DOLPHINS and WHALES have discovered alien technology at the bottom of the ocean and are using it to take revenge on Japan for all the hunting/fishing they’ve done down the years.

Y’see what I mean?  How can you not feel relaxed reading that?  Absolutely insane ideas that would even have Fox Mulder spluttering his tea over his keyboard at.

The only worry I have is for the human race because there is clearly a hefty percentage that either dream these things up and take them as fact, or read them and take them as fact.  I’m inclined to think though they’re comfortably tucked away on ranches and compounds up in the hills awaiting impending doom.

It makes for not only an entertaining read, but a sobering one.  With all the everyday grumps and groans life throws at us all, there are people out there who add to it by buying into the stuff of science fiction to make themselves miserable.  If the New World Order/Illuminati does exist, they won’t have to do much by way of announcing themselves or usurping control of the populous.   This lot have prepared themselves implicitly for the impending doom and will grumble their way into those FEMA camps hissing ‘I told you so’ but doing little else other than comply – because Davie Icke told them it would happen.

Or Alex Jones.  Alex Jones is like a series of Lost.  Claims to have the answers, but fails to deliver and just asks more questions instead.

I can’t actually believe I’m writing a blog about it all but the nonsense makes for entertaining reading.  It beats browsing The Daily Mail to see what fearmongering about foxes or immigrants they’re trying to peddle, or trying to spot huge ‘journalistic’ errors in a copy of The Metro.  No, the real entertainment is to be had in this subculture of alternative news that isn’t really news at all.

It’s genius because for the most part it is so horrifically flawed.  Like The Da Vinci Code.  The ‘theorists’ jump on one slither of an idea and generate a whole backstory, completely forgetting that science and general common sense can explain away alot of it.

And I’m not talking about marsh gas accounting for lights in the sky.

I can’t even get angry at the people who post it on the net either.  It’s just a case of thinking,
“Seriously?  You actually buy this.  The sky must be an awesome colour in your world my friend.”

The lizard men aren’t coming to get me.  The Men In Black are safely confined to Will Smith films.  2012 is nothing but a year.

Enjoy life eh?  Let’s not make it worse by thinking up unseen horrors that will never impact on our lives.

Read The Secret.  At least that’s an innocent crock of shit.  Oh and don’t listen to Rihanna.  Her masonic links are terrifying….

Can’t We All Just Get Along?

Only if you sign specifically up to one site and only subscribe to their mind...

This is a really quick one, but Christ on a bike blogging sites, can’t you all just agree to co-exist?

To subscribe to something non-Wordpress I have to sign up.  Then I get asked all the questions like ‘Hey, what theme do you want for your blog?’ ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ ‘When did you last do a wee?’.

I’ve typed it out once (very much under duress, I hate I have to repeatedly update the ‘About Me’ on this blog, let alone start prattling on in others) I should not need to do so again.  Nor should I have to set up one with you, just so I can track one of your user’s blogs.  Not very customer friendly is it?

I want WordPress and Blogger to cosy up a bit more.  I want Blogger to not force my hand and use my Google account (which I haven’t used in ooh 12 months?) to login based on the facts that I am without a Facebook or Twitter or any other bloody social network I can integrate my account from.  Do not punish me because I do not have an online social network!

 

Just let me follow a blog that isn’t on the same site as mine without making me divulge my entire life story to your signup page!

I also want Blogger to not ask me whenever I subscribe to a blog how I want my name displayed.  You already asked me for a user name when I signed up.  I just noticed this glaring error when subscribing to two belonging to people I spoke to regularly on Twitter.  On one pre-mucking around backend I was visible as my email address (a no no) on the other post-mucking around it was showing correctly.  After a bit of banging my head on the desk in frustration I calmed down and corrected it.  User-unfriendly that is.

I’ll freely admit I have a Grandad-esque approach to setting up any kind of link between things (I still panic over putting picture attachments in my blogs) but bloody hell this kind of crap just seeks to induce aneurysms.

Blogging Sites - You Mock Me So

I know everyone has to make money, I know if I should take advantage of all the ‘premium’ tools these websites offer I should pay out, but I’m still not convinced it would do what I tell it – like a puppy that’s pissed on the shagpile for the 19th time.

Then again, the content of my blogs very often aren’t worth the virtual paper they’re written on.  I’d be hard pushed to wipe my virtual arse on them at times.  Yet still I sit here and vent my virtual rage.

Grrrrrrr.

*pokes it with a stick*

Still nothing.  Sod it.

Shed Your Tears And Walk Away Review

Shed Your Tears And Walk Away - Hebden Bridge - A Drug Town With A Tourist Problem

I like Hebden Bridge.  I’ve visited a few times, the first being a very quick few hours to watch a band of friends support The Bees at the old Picture House – quite possibly one of if not the most favourite venue I’ve ever watched live music at.

It was some time last year whilst looking at a ‘What’s On’ page on a website for Hebden that I stumbled across a forum post regarding a documentary made by local film-maker Jez Lewis.  My interest piqued I investigated further.  A few mails to the very polite and accommodating Jez and I found out the documentary was being shown at film festivals in London and Sheffield – both dates that I unfortunately couldn’t make.

I kept my ear to the ground.  There were rumours of a DVD release but nothing concrete, I ambled on hoping Channel 4 or someone would pick it up.  They didn’t, but a hat tip to Stuart Maconie for doing a segment for it on Inside Out.  Then on 17th January this year Amazon came up trumps and delivered me a copy.  Time to see the darker side to the Bridge.

The documentary focuses on a very small group of people Lewis knew whilst growing up, some of whom are sadly no longer with us who had remained in Hebden and fell into drug abuse and alcoholism.  Those that were still alive were heading the same way though it would appear.  Each had a troubled past.  Cass was beaten by his step-dad, Silly had served in the Foreign Legion and had fought in various war-torn African countries and another had been in and out of prison.  All shared a love of Special Brew and drugs and regularly met up in the local park.

It showed the outlook for locals born and raised in Hebden as bleak – no prospects, nothing to do, and a community being overlooked in favour of out-of-towners coming in and buying up houses, taking seats on the councils and school boards whilst commuting out to Manchester and Leeds every day to work.  There seemed a real sense of dislike, mistrust and intimidation towards them – something which as a visitor to Hebden made me squirm uneasily in my seat (particularly at the reference to Hebden having a ‘tourist problem’) and had me questioning whether going back there would ever be a good idea.  It certainly wasn’t funded by the Hebden tourist information board.

I totally understand it was a personal film from Lewis and these were people who he grew up alongside. But I know from personal experience that not one school year anywhere in the UK ever produced an endless stream of happy endings.  If I went back to my hometown of St Helens to film a similar documentary, I too could overlook an award winning professional rugby player, a film and music video director, an actor and a west end dancer – to name but a few success stories – from the class of ’96 and instead focus on the suicides, the murderers, rapist and drug dealers that also came out of the same school year.  That was one school year from one school,  Sure St Helens is bigger than Hebden, is no stranger to the post-industrial fallout that befell Hebden.  It’s suffered at the hands of Thatcher’s pit closures, the closure of Beechams aswell as the decline of other production sites so only Pilkingtons remains leaving it a husk of it’s former industrious self.

I’d be more inclined to say the personal experiences of the individuals involved in Shed Your Tears contributed to how they came to be in their current situation as opposed to suggesting blame lies in the place where they resided. The experiences of those individuals could of taken place in any similar town anywhere in the world – this documentary just happens to focus on Hebden locals.  In no way am I belittling the harshness of the stories told, or attempting to play down the tragic loss of life, I’m just looking beyond the scope of ‘Hebden did this to these people’.  Whilst Lewis himself doesn’t necessarily advocate this perception, it certainly isn’t discouraged.  When Silly breaks down and cries outside of Hebden Social Club, and speaks of his time and experiences spent in the Foreign Legion, you are seeing what is really troubling him bubble up and rise to the surface.  The affluence of those who have moved to Hebden or the decline in industry in the town that angered Silly earlier in the documentary became background noise – and you genuinely feel for the guy as it is a heartbreaking realisation for him.  I would of liked from this point to see a shift in focus away from Hebden and switch to the demons that weren’t buried within the walls of the town they lived, but within themselves.  Instead ‘this is just how it is here’ keeps being pushed.

Temptation is absolutely everywhere, and it’s even more tempting if you’ve been through a horrendeously stressful or traumatic time.  I barely remember the alcohol soaked years of 2005-2008 and dub them ‘The Dark Years’ for this very reason.  It had nothing to do with the steep decline in industry and subsequent high unemployment rate of St Helens, or from any influx (if any) to the town, or from a real lack of anything to do there – it was down to how I dealt with my own personal situation.  I did however happily blame the place for a good portion of this time, which in hindsight was incredibly wrong of me.  It took a good friend going through a similar situation to mine, taking things a few steps too far and getting hooked on things much harder than booze to scare me into stepping out from the cans and bottles I’d come to hide behind and get up off the floor I regularly found myself waking up fully clothed on.  Thankfully, all be it much later and with help, he did the same.  This isn’t me displaying ignorance and preaching about some personal success story of ‘turning it all around’, but me trying to show that the surroundings didn’t need to change, the person did.

I felt the documentary was crying out for an argument for the positive side of Hebden – which it must have or people wouldn’t move there, or visit there, or play gigs there (there’s been a thriving music scene for a good few years) would they?  Life beyond the borders needed to be shown, and that insular thinking needed to be broken down to help Cass and Silly get back on the right path.  Giving a voice to the frowned upon out-of-towners who’d moved there and been labelled ‘cliquey’, or even look at local success stories that had come out of Hebden and the same era as Lewis would of made for a better balance.  I’m not convinced that they frown upon the locals, or intentionally intimidate – a fear of ‘the other’ can generate that within ourselves.  Perhaps I am wrong and I’m being naive, but at least show that side so I can form my own opinion.  It just didn’t take any of this into account other than a brief reference to some mild positives at the very start.  Lewis angered the local council and police alike in the filming of Shed Your Tears, and I can’t help thinking if there had been a look into what goes on in or around Hebden to help folk like Cass or Silly then those that opposed filming may of been more help than hinderance.

No matter how small a town is, it always has its success stories – surely Lewis himself is living proof?  Admittedly for him to use that as leverage against the bleakness would of come across as arrogant and pompous – which Lewis clearly isn’t.  There just seemed like no light at the end of the tunnel, even as the credits roll there was no glimmer of hope offered up.  Had I not watched Inside Out prior to this, I would not of known that Silly actually turned his life around after watching himself back – proof that there was something positive to come from all this.  Instead I would have been left to think he was still languishing and pushing his partner Di further towards the edge of despair.

An interesting documentary and worth a watch to highlight that every post-industrial village or town has it’s problems no matter how glossy the overcoat is.  However allowing the angle suggesting that a curse hangs over Hebden to play out through the whole documentary was some way off highlighting the true reasons behind each persons story.  Reasons that simply weren’t focused upon enough and were crying out to be looked at further – for the sake of Cass and Silly more than that of the viewer.

Onomatopoeia I Hate Thee So!

When you punch someone or fire a gun, it does not make this noise. Ever. Unless live in a comic.

Is it wrong to hate this?

The definition is:

“A word that imitates or suggests the source of the sound that it describes“

It has bugged me for years.  Who actually thought this up?  The reason I ask is because I think it is highly flawed.

Sure throw at me the examples of ‘meow‘ or ‘quack‘ but I’ll return with ‘squelch‘.  ”What’s up with squelch? It’s the sound I make when I step in wet mud.”

Sure many people think it is, but the definition of squelch also means to silence or supress, and when you silence something it doesn’t have a sound really does it?

Which begs the question then – which came first?

Also ‘bark‘ is apparently another example.  Apparently the noise a dog makes, but also the outer layer of a tree.  Too many double meanings attributed to some of these words make me think ‘are we not attributing already existing words to the sound of something simply because of one persons personal perception which has then influenced others?’.  Personally I think ‘bark’ is a flimsy one anyway because other people think a dog goes ‘woof‘, but then really you have to bring into the argument the size of the dog don’t you?  Sure a rottweiler or an alsation may ‘woof‘ or ‘bark‘ but a chihuahua? ‘Arf‘ would possibly be more appropriate but some people think that is one of the varying sounds of laughter.

As a writer onomatopoeia bugs me because I think it is purely subjective but the language is possibly too far gone for my crazy idea to ever come to pass to do away with the notion.  I mean kids are taught that dogs bark and woof for God’s sake.  I’ve never heard a dog form the letters ‘b’ or ‘f’ EVER, and I defy anyone reading this to prove otherwise. They’re good at w’s and o’s.  In fact, in saying that I now want to say that I dog doesn’t bark or woof, but uses varying rough (another bloody noise a dog makes!) forms of the word ‘wow‘ to communicate.  There I’ve done it.  If ever I write a story about a viscious Kujo-like dog I’m going to use the line,

“As the last embers of the campfire died away, they heard it.  Cutting through the trees like the cruel blade of a stalking assassin came the long and painful wow of Derek The Angry Dog.”

Y’see? Your howl or bark, is my wow.  Saying ‘wow’ to express elated surprise should now be done away with from here on in as this is the noise a dog makes.  I’ve suggested that a dog makes this noise, so surely, by the laws of onomatopoeia this should now be put into general use?  If so, here’s some more suggestions:

Birds go mirrip, they don’t cheap or chirrup.

There’s no ‘e’ in the noise a cat makes, it is now simply ‘mow‘ (pronounced like cow, not the one we use to cut grass).

Squelch? I tend to ‘fthlip’ when I step in wet mud.

Please tell me I’m not alone in this and going utterly mental people.  I’m trying to prove a point that not only do people hear things differently, but alot of the times like with ‘bark’ and ‘squelch’ there are other meanings which are far far removed from their use in onomatopoeia.

Obviously I was taking some things to extremes in terms of sound imitation, but the suggestive side of the subject means no one word should be specifically attributed.  I prefer when writing to generate my own sounds for words, not lump in with the rest of the world and say I got splashed by a puddle.

Puddles aren’t deep enough to splash in for a start.  I know this because I apparently make a splash noise when I jump into a swimming pool too.  Puddles and swimming pools greatly differ in depth yet the sound is apparently the same?  Puddles possibly ‘tlssh‘ and jumping into swimming pools possibly make a ‘dutlish‘ noise.

I’m off again.  I need a lie down.

Bottom line is – Onomatopoeia – I don’t like you.  My friends shouldn’t like you either.

I’ll shush now.

Or ssh.

Or sshhhsssssssh.

Ricky Gervais, The Golden Globes – And The Miserable Clique That is Hollywood

Down with this sort of thing! Comedy? Not at these awards you can't!

This is going to be extremely short and sweet.

If you hire a funnyman to host an award show, you get what you pay for.

None of what Ricky Gervais said was as damning as the US press are making out.  The majority of it was funny….because it was true.  It showed up a number of people as being prissy little divas who feel they should be protected at these backslapping events rather than have the mickey taken out of them.

It livened up what is a terribly dull event.  And hey, more people than normal are talking about the Golden Globes this side of the Atlantic.  Let’s face it, no one really gave two hoots about it in England UNTIL you gave Gervais some of the awards.  So he again raised the profile of the event over here.

Yet he’s not allowed to poke fun at the people sat in front of him.

Given the outrage in the UK media over Frankie Boyle’s comments and jokes of late, the Golden Globes and all those miserable fuckwits we line the pockets of by paying to see their movies got off lightly.  America – Gervais’ jibes were kids play in comparison.

He implied Tom Cruise was gay (who hasn’t done that before?)
He pointed out how old the Sex And The City ‘stars’ are compared to the age they like to act.
He spoke of how awful The Tourist is (kudos to Depp for laughing along – one of the few who took it on the chin).
He mocked Hugh Hefner and his great grandaughter aged fiance (like that’s never been done before).
He mocked Downey Jr’s past (something Downey Jr himself has done numerous times over in interviews – so it’s taboo now is it?)
He said Ashton Kutcher was Bruce Willis’ son.
He mocked Charlie Sheen’s car crash lifestyle (again, who hasn’t?)

Berk and co need to get a grip saying Gervais was out of line.  I’m not his biggest fan, but Jesus Christ, do some background research on your hosts if you don’t want them tearing strips off the audience.  It happens when you go and watch any comedy show on the planet.  If you don’t want it to happen at your stuffy events, then don’t hire someone who works with comedy for a living (I refuse to call him a comedian).

Once again The Land Of The Free showing that you are only free if you are false and kiss arse.  Hats off to Ricky for highlighting just how blinkered, cotton wool wrapped and insular Hollywood and all who reside in it truly is.

Believe in free speech? You’re a terrorist you are.

The world’s gone mad.

Julian Assange, owner of Wikileaks has been condemned this week by the US government for releasing thousands of extracts from diplomatic messages.

In many, the less than diplomatic diplomats are making snide sneering remarks about their host governments and world leaders.

A Republican congressman has called for Wikileaks to be classed as a terrorist organisation in the wake of it all.

Think about that for a minute.  Effectively, for telling the truth, Julian Assange et al are being branded terrorists.   Is that how things are going to be from now on?  If so, it’s all going a bit 1984.  We’re given a sugar coated view of the world by the likes of the American government, when all the while really they’re just sending memos back and forth namecalling and scrutinising their so-called allies and hiding it from us.

Like we didn’t already know anyway.  I mean seriously, what all this boils down to is embarrassment at being found out.  Like talking about someone you think isn’t in the room but all the while they’re stood behind you.  All this has done is show us that the American government are as genuine as a used car salesman’s smile.

The lapse in security – their fault.
The content of the releases – their fault.
The potential damage to relationships with other countries – their fault.

I’m hoping this is just the beginning, and if the promise of what is contained in the encrypted history insurance file is anything to go by, it probably is just the start.

If the American government didn’t want disclosure on their remarks, they shouldn’t of put them down in black and white.

In fact, to save face the best thing they could do right now is come forward and counter Wikileaks by being open and frank with the world, disclosing info before Wikileaks does.

Hiding the fact the Americans think Burlusconi is vain and ineffective isn’t protecting us.  It’s protecting those who say it.

Do I care? No.  I’m pretty sure Burlusconi probably shares that opinion of himself anyway.  At least he is up front about his misdemeanors, not squirreling them away hoping no one finds out.

It’d be awfully convenient for various governing bodies if Assange was to suddenly dissapear off the face of the earth, or wind up in a hotel room dead as a result of a ‘sordid sex act gone wrong’ or his plane was to fall out of the sky.  Assange knows this, his history insurance is proof he knows he’s probably high on someone’s hit list.

Basically, admit you’ve made mistakes in how you’ve conducted yourself, rather than bracket someone in as a terrorist simply for bringing it into the public domain.  Where, let’s face it, it should always be anyway.

 

Fan Fiction…more like Freak Fiction

So the other day me and a group of friends were reminiscing over TV gone by, and discovered that some nice chap had uploaded the entire Knightmare back catalogue to Youtube.

After watching a few episodes (I got rather excited when it looked like a team from my hometown were going to actually win the game) I decided to go mooching on the internet for other Knightmare related nonsense.

From doing this I learned two things:

1) The unusually named Dickon Hares is now a much loved Biology teacher (and one of a select few to actually win on Knightmare).

2) Fan fiction re-clarified itself as possibly the worst form of fiction I have ever encountered.

I’m unsure as to how websites allow some of their ‘writers’ page space.  Take for example the guy who wrote about Girls Aloud in a pretty unsavoury way.  I’ve seen arguments both for and against this guy on the internet.  Those against focusing on the content, those in support claiming The Obscene Publications act is vague and unfair, particularly when it comes to web published articles.

Me?  I’m completely in the against camp, simply because I would hate to produce something only for someone to then take that away, poorly reconstruct it how they perceive it and lace it with graphic scenes of sex and violence to satisfy their own needs.

I’d fully imagine if questioned, some of these ‘writers’ would respond to the question of why they do it with “I’m only writing what everyone is thinking.”

No, you’re really not.  When I watched The Wonder Years it never crossed my mind that perhaps there was more to Kevin and Paul’s relationship that met the eye.  I certainly didn’t envisage two minors would engage in graphic sex acts either.  Yet someone on the internet did.  I’m not posting a link, I’m not even going to reference the site, it was pretty stomach churning stuff.

Both the website and ‘author’ alike can dress it up as much as they like saying that they give fair warning as to the content of ‘M for Mature’ stories that they post, but let’s be honest, that really isn’t enough.  It’s the type of material only a very warped section of society would take pleasure in reading.

So there’s that side to it.

The other side is ‘fan fiction’ shows a complete lack of imagination.  If you are going to write, then think up your own characters, plots and twists – don’t jockey off someone else’s.  When I was about 7 I wrote a story entitled ‘Ghostbusters 2′.  My schoolteacher slammed the story when I handed it in saying there was zero originality.  Ever since that day, I heed those words and fear a red pen striking off a story as unoriginal.  I’ve striven to be unique in the ideas I put together.  Never, ever would I dare take the characters from a book, TV show or film and lump them into something I made, that possibly destroys back stories, the original mindset of the characters or puts them in scenarios that they were never intended to be in.

Never once whilst watching Happy Days did I think The Fonz bullied Ritchie Cunningham into doing things he didn’t want to in Fonzie’s ‘office’.

In all my years of watching The Simpsons I didn’t consider Bart may actually be romantically involved with his two Aunts.

I even read one which was simply a re-write of a particular scene from a particular TV show.  Only without coherence, a spellchecker and perhaps a brain inside the head of the person tapping it out.

This is the type of crap being churned out on the internet on dedicated websites to drivel like this.  Yes I know I don’t have to read it, yet it’s there when I do simple searches for TV shows I watched when I was a kid.  So if I stumbled across it so easily from innocently browsing, imagine who else could.

Yes, I admit that was very Daily Mail of me, so I will go back to the point of destroying other people’s work being my main bug bear about ‘fan fiction’.

If you are a fan of something then simply admire whichever show or film you are fond of for what it is.  Don’t embark on some insane Marquis De Sade inspired attempt at effectively destroying what it is you actually like.

You just wind up looking a bit sick in the head or very very stupid.  Or both.

Liverpool the new London?

Liverpool's Commercial District - London-centric?

Hear me out before you attack the subject line :¬)

I was sat at my laptop, back to the TV on the day of the MOBO’s.  There was a segment on Granada news building up the hype over it, and they were asking various attendees of the MOBO’s what they thought of it being staged in Liverpool.

Someone, and I’m not saying it definitely was Taio Cruz, but sounded a hell of a lot like him going off the few unfortunate occasions I’ve had to listen to him, came out with the quote “Liverpool is the new London.”

I didn’t like it.  At all.  Londoners who may read this, I apologise in advance, but I’ve never been overly impressed whenever I’ve been to the nation’s capital.  Glorious buildings and history to be had, but the jumped up poncy nightlife was rife (although kudos to The Intrepid Fox which doesn’t fall in line with the many other bars I’ve frequented) and (I’m sorry to say) the people left me feeling very underwhelmed.

London was best summed up to me by a friend who regularly went down for work who said “London is the loneliest place on earth.” and during the times I’ve been there I can see why.  No one acknowledges anyone.  No pleases, thank yous, excuse me’s or pardons.  Everyone just seemed to shuffle and bustle on the streets and the undergrounds like automatons programmed to get from A to B and if someone happened to get in the way, it was a severe inconvenience prompted a huff or roll of the eyes.

How could that be attributed to Liverpool, my adopted home?  True it has it’s pseudo-VIP bars and clubs, but there’s a good portion of places that don’t adopt that mentality and are full of character and there’s no sense of being looked up and down to make sure you’ve got the latest Esquire/GQ recommended attire on.  Everyone doesn’t walk around with their eyes down and give off an air of self importance.

That was until I really thought about it.

‘The Commercial District’ as it’s known has become to be a real low-point to the city for me.  And it is here, and only here I can agree with Mr Cruz (and boy do I feel sick saying that).

I walk through there every day to get to and from the station to go to work.  At first I was wandering through it with a look on my face more attributed to a rabbit caught in headlights, but it was mainly due to being in a new neighbourhood and finding my feet.  Now that’s wore off and it’s a regular occurence, I have started to see it for what it is.  London-centric.

The signs are there.  Each person rushes along thinking they’re far more important or much busier than the next.  Those who don’t rush along amble along the middle of the (very) restricted pavement due to the road works, tapping away with a stylus on their PDA’s or organising something with Geoffrey for 10am.  The same sense of inconvenience is there if you happen to be in someone’s way (“I’m on serious business! Out of my way you proles!”).  And I’ve even seen it eek into the train stations.  Everyone must stand to the side on the escalator, allowing those all important types to steam through.  Granted I could understand if you was trying to catch a train, but on your way out of Moorfields?  You are clearly desperate to get to your desk……at 7:30am.

Let’s not forget the corporate posses too, a special hats off to you and your ignorance walking 4 wide along the street causing us ne’er do wells and urchins to physically stop to allow you to pass whilst you chew the fat about squash with the MD.  I’d like to say I was embelishing the truth here with these overheard conversations, but I’m not.

‘The Commercial District’ is the loneliest place in Liverpool.  It makes me feel like a character from Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere on a daily basis.

Is Liverpool the new London?  No.  I’m just hoping ‘The Commercial District’ (even that reeks of blinkered self indulgent self importance) is just a spot of southern oil on the surface of an otherwise northern pond.

Social Networkless (And Happier For It)

I’ve done it.  I’ve pulled the plug.  It’s about 2 years since by Facebook bubble burst, and now my Twitter one finally has too.  This comes around the time of general release of ‘Social Network’ which charts the rise of Mark Zuckerberg.  I’d like to think it marks my rise above laziness and a return to doing things I enjoy.

After a week’s cold turkey I woke up and made the all important decision to delete my account.  Why?  Well I’ll tell you.

When I first started using Twitter I didn’t get it.  I was one of those switching from the circus that is Facebook with their nudges, winks, gifts, picture albums, music.  Basically everything and anything they could throw at you to keep you glued to the site.  Thank God I didn’t get sucked in by Farmville.

Then I started using it regularly and slowly but surely was drawn in.  You start poking around and seeing what you can find.  First you find the people you know, then you find people similar to those people via those people.  Then you start looking into your own interests and lo! there’s people there with the same.  Then you start finding that there’s also accounts set up for businesses and events, not on the other side of the world but on your doorstep.

Then it started to go awry.

When I first started using Twitter I was using it as a mini-blog.  Making social comments about news events, current affairs, etc etc.

I’d blog regularly and link it up there.

Then things changed.  I started being the type of Tweeter that I loathed.  My twittering quickly moved towards posting quips and sarcastic comments that either a) got a retweet or two or b) died on it’s arse.  I was slipping back into the ‘I’ve Just Bought Brocolli LOL’ type Facebook status mentality – something I’d tried to escape.

I’d failed.

Plus another thing I’d noticed is my creativity was taking a massive hit.  My Twitter profile boasts that I write.  I was writing 140 characters regularly, but anything else?  Nope.  Too much effort.  I was too busy thinking of the next tweet, not the next step in a story I was writing.

Stephen King didn’t remember writing Cujo due to being a heavy drink and drug abuser.  He still managed to get Cujo written.  I’m sat on stories and ideas I’ve been promising to write for ages and done nothing as Twitter was too much of a distraction.

It had become my security blanket when out shopping (I’m not a shopping fan) so I’d be staring at my phone checking for updates rather than looking around me or engaging in real conversation.  It became a tic, I’d regularly just dive into my pocket and produce the iPhone to check, even if I didn’t really care about what I was looking at.  I was just worried in case I’d miss something or an opportunity to be a clever dick.

So I decided to abstaine.  I wasn’t using it how I was meant to or had intended to, so with me it is either all or nothing.  I’m either in there tweeting, or not doing it at all.  I gave myself a week to realise I didn’t need Twitter.

I came close to breaking a few times.  The closest I came was when the story broke about Liverpool FC being bought out by the owner of the Boston Red Sox.  I followed a few LFC Twitter accounts, most that had good insights into everything Liverpool related.  I somehow managed to hold off.  I came close a few times, but instead I took to doing things the old fashioned way – looking for myself rather than waiting for someone to bring the links to me.

And it was here I saw a turning point.  It was here I found myself looking for stories on the internet, and found myself branching off reading related articles.  It was here my brain started thinking ‘Hey, what about that thing you heard of a few months back that you never followed up on…..’ and I’d be off Wikipedia-ing and such.

Ideas started forming again.  I started reaching for my notebook and pen again rather than Osfoora or Twitterific on my iPhone.  I was actually glad mid-way through my sabbatical that a software error on my phone led me to having to start from scratch with my apps.  I chose not to re-install any form of social network ones.  The tic faded along with my need to go on Twitter etc.

It was here where I found myself getting a book out of my bag on the train and reading again rather than thinking of something vaguely witty about the commuters on the train in 140 characters or less.

So after a week of liberation, I officially pulled the plug this morning.  Account deactivation, which unlike Facebook means a total and utter removal of Twitter from my plain of existence.  I didn’t announce it on Twitter.  I didn’t want it to come across as some attention seeking muppet who says they’ll do something simply to get people responding with pleas for them not to do so (not that I’d expect or want anyone to have done that).  It was something I wanted and needed to do.

Sure I’ll miss it for the useful elements and some of the friendly tweeters I encountered, but what I won’t miss is how I ultimately let my own personal usage deteriorate into something that just became one huge distraction away from things important to me – namely my writing.

So I’m back to focusing on that.  I am denouncing all forms of social network (probably until the time a snazzy new one comes along and lures me in) and only counting World Of Warcraft (shush, I know it’s sad) as my one and only distracting vice.

I am hoping it will lead to a return to more blog posts, and hopefully ones alot more interesting than Danny Dyer hate campaigns etc.

Only time will tell I guess.

See you all on the flipside.