And 'lo, there was sunshine and merriment and all manner of little things which go "buzz".

Well then, it would appear that summer has finally struck - admitedly halfway through what is technically spring. Global warming, we salute you!

Of course, as we all know the real reason for the nice weather hasn't got anything to do with with such sciency things as rotation of the earth, and relative distance of our planet from the sun, oh no. Rather it likely has more to do with the fact that it will soon be exam time once again, and as we all are sitting inside busily revising (or at the very least concocting good excuses for not doing any revision), the weather will be going to that extra effort to show us how much fun we could be having instead. And then in a cruel twist of fate, it will most likely proceed to rain for about 3 months solid throughout the summer holidays (the hosepipe ban will still be in place however, it's practically tradition). I really do sometimes think that if there is a God, then he must be a sadist for giving us such a thing as British weather.

The easter holidays went relatively well, France was a nice break especially considering I haven't really been out of the country properly in years. Being at home wasn't too great, since my bedroom seems to have taken on something of a storage-room ambience, but then I guess it can't be helped. I definately enjoyed coming back to Aberystwyth a week early, though - the town was relatively quiet since most people were still at home, and I got to spend some time with Amy, which was nice as sadly that isn't something that gets to happen every day.

Currently I'm trying to decide what modules to take for next year, which is not only tricky because I like the sound of pretty much all of them but also because there is a frankly silly amount of paperwork accompanying the process. I'm half tempted to say that I can't complete the registration forms since I am abstaining from any administrative work on my own part until the unions sort out this pay dispute business which is preventing us from getting our essay marks. But I don't think they'd buy that.

That pretty much wraps things up so far, be sure to tune in next time for more exciting news....

Err, I think I better leave now. The sarcasm meter has just exploded aqgain...

St. Patricks Day

So it's been a while since I've written anything, in the main due to the fact that not a lot has happened lately. Well, stuff has happened, just nothing that's worth writing about here; "Wake up, have shower, goto lecture, fight off monster and eat dinner". As you can see, it's all pretty normal, boring, monotonous day-t0-day type stuff. But now I do have something to write about, except the only snag is I can't really write about it since I don't remember most of it. But that hasn't stopped me in the past, so welcome to:

Gary's St. Paddy's Day booze-up and pissery

As I seem to recall the day got off to a lazy start - infact the way I choose to start most (all) of my days. After sleeping through my alarm at 8am (despite being very lazy, I nonetheless remain optimistic about the kind of time I expect to get up in the mornings), I am awoken by my second alarm, and since my second alarm is the timer on my TV, I am awoken to the rather creepy piece of programming known as CBeebies. Turns out I'd set the wrong channel on the TV, and I had effectively wasted half an hour watching some woman read out birthdays whilst thinking that the quality of televised news had declined somewhat of late. Realising my error I switch of the TV and go back to bed.

By the time lunchtime comes around I wake up for real, this time woken by by third and most effective alarm - my stomach demadning food. After a quick and invigorataing shower (read: tripping over into the shower and then falling asleep in it), I realise that I have lectures and things. Putting the demands of my stomach on hold for the time being, I wander down to the lecture theatre where I get to hear about... prohibition in 1920s America. It's only bloody St. Patricks Day and you're telling us about why some weirdos in the '20s though alcohol was a bad thing? What a way to bring the day down. Luckily I wasn't phased, so after returning home for luncheon the day of drinking began.

We arrived at the the Union building at 3pm. Pubs around here shut at 2am, so we had approximately 11 hours to drink through as much guiness as we could. Now I'm not usually a big guiness drinker, but after being told you get a free hat and badges if you buy 4 pints of guiness I went up and ordered 4 pints at once. So did Sam. So did Jake. The sight of all those pints of guiness on the table was something almost magical. Sadly I only manage 3 of my pints since by the time I'm done the 4th one had gone a bit funny looking. And plus we were all rather hungry so we headed off in the driection of Wetherspoons.

After a brief stumble down the hill we arrive at our destination; the Yr Hen Orsaf, or alternatively, Wetherspoons. Deciding my stomach could use some light relief from the guiness earlier, I promptly down 2 pints of Magners Irish cider. My dizziness factor increases exponentialy. After a biref bite to eat, Jake leaves us and me and Sam decide to trek over to The Fountain to get some Murphy's. A very dizzy half a pint (don't look at me like that, this stuff is expensive you know) later and we were in a taxi heading home.

Except that the evening wasn't finished there. It was only 11, and we had tickets for Flirt (an event at the Union, where I can only assume the object of which is to flirt with people - my object was drinking, however) so that is where things begin to get really hazy. I remember ordering 2 double Jamesons (Irish Whiskey) and deciding to save time and pour them into the same glass. Quadrouple whiskeys are the way forward, let me tell you. I had at least another one of them, and then a double after that. Needless to say the combination of alcohol and strobe lighting effects played havoc upon my brain, which had pretty much given up the ghost for the day. The next thing I remember is lieing on the floor in the kitchen of the flat above whilst laughing my head of and people telling me to be quiet. And then someone poured a jug of water over me so I decided it was bed time.

And that was how my St. Patricks day progressed. I woke up this morning feeling fine, with no signs of a hangover. This can only mean that I haven't actually sobered up yet, so whilst I wait for the innevitable to kick in, here's a picture of me last night with my hat.

Danger, excitement, romance and a murder most foul...

...have little to do with this post.

Well now, it has been a rather long time since I have shown any attention to this, my own personal little corner of the interweb. A month, in fact, and I'm sure you'll agree that whilst a week is a long time in politics, a month can be a veritable age in internet time. So then, you may all be interested in hearing what has been happening to me in the last month. Then again you may not, but since you are here I am going to assume that you are, so pour yourself a coffee, make yourself comfortable and let me bring you up to speed...

***

Returning to Aberystwyth

Yes, once again I got to experience the thoughorly unpleasent ordeal that is the train journey back to Wales. As usual I travelled back with Jake, but this time we were accompanied by Jenny as far as London on her way back to the H.M.S Liverpool.* The one good result of the tube strikes that had decided to, err, strike on this day was that we told the underground to "sod off" (not literally of course, although if anyone would care to inform the London Underground to sod off, then be my guest) and we instead opted for a taxi instead. 10 minutes and £7 poorer later, we walked into London Euston feeling a sense of accomplishment that our traverse across London town had not been sullied by the presence of tubes and commuters. We aslo felt hunger. Lots of hunger. So thus began a trip to the Burger King (not before I had been ripped off for the "pleasure" of using some rather substandard toilets - that's 20p I'm not likely to be seeing again in a hurry), where the ingestion of cooked plastic in a bun occured. After that it was the same old rubbish journey to Birmingham, only to experience our usual case of being messed about as we were told to goto Wolverhapton for a 2 hour wait for the next train to Aberystwyth. Thankfully coffee and a PSP made the time go faster, and before long we were sitting on a train finally homeward bound. The rest of the journey back was fairly uneventiful; we popped into 'Spoons for a quick pint and some dinner, taxied up the hill (that is getting a taxi up the hill, not the thing that airplanes do) and the last thing I remember is sitting in the flat drinking Whiskey. I shall assume for the sake of simplicity of remembering that I did find my way to bed at some point. Either that or I never did, and my entire life from that point onwards is all a delusion induced by extreme lack of sleep. Whoah, actually that's kind of scary. Not as scary as my next tale, however. Welcome to...

Exams

Barely had I been back a week, when exams reared their hideously ugly head. Revision was as horrible and monotonous a task as it has ever been, which would probably account for why I didn't verymuch of it. During this time I had dared to secretely hope that the exams at university might somehow be slightly more bearable than what I have been subjected to in the past. Perhaps we would be in more comfortable surroundings, with comfy chairs and large desks that wouldn't sway violently when you tried to write owing to an offset hieght difference of an inch on each leg. Predictibly enough however the exams were just as bad as the ones you get at school and 6th form. In fact they were worse; the exam halls here are larger casuing them to take upon an even more intimidating air, at the front was placed a raised stage with a long table where upon invigilators sat observing us like a vulture might sit and watch a person who is at deaths door. To make things even worse we were instructed to only sit on odd numbered tables, which just goes to show how accademically advanced university studies are, since if you cannot perform simple mathmatics then you can't even take the exam, despite the fact that I am clearly studying History posess about the equivalent ability to process any form of arithmatic as a Windows based computer.** I am however pleased to report that I did manage to find an approproate table on both occasions, and I feel that while the exams could have gone better, they could have gone a lot worse too. Results are published on 26 Feburary, or at least in the close proximity of that date, so fingers crossed that things turn out well.

Lectures

Lectures begun again next week. However, before attendence of the lectures could occur it was first neccesary to attempt to decipher the frankly incomprehensible timetable that they give to us.*** Along with lectures have also come the innevitable seminars, which have started this week. Well, they were meant to start at any rate. Complications regarding when and where to meet and lecturer abscences mean that I haven't as of yet attended very many. From the one seminar that has occured thus far I can report that these still follow the theme of shuffling into a room, not saying anything and generally attempting to blend in with the furniture.

Birthdays

In the past month no fewer than two birthdays have come calling. I know for a fact that they happened at some point, however I have some difficulty in recalling exactly what happened at both events. The first was Tara's, which was a good night out. Me, Jake and Sam had decided that since we are, after all, elite gentlemen and must act accordingly, that we should go dressed in suits. So we did. I think we may have got some odd looks (although probably not as odd as the ones Tara got, if you saw here outfit you would know what I mean), and I think we were asked why were dressed that way by the bar staff in Varsity, to which my response was "because we are better that you, you uncouth rapscallion, now bring me my drink wench!". And this is why it was a very good thing that I was not the one doing the talking. After this I recall heading to Pier, only to suddenly realise that we didn't like it there very much and then walking back home. Via 'Spoons, naturally. The night ended drinking whiskey (I sense a common theme occuring in how my nights end) and watching American Werewolf in London. Right before bed I decided to go outside to get some air since I was not feeling too perky (obviouslt Jack had a vendetta against me that night). My next memory is waking up the following afternoon with a strong desire for revenge against whoever it was that had been hitting a sledgehammer against my head all night.

The second birthday was Jake's. This began quite well with a pleasent sojourn in Wetherspoons, and it was at this point that I discovered quite possibly the besterest thing in the world ever. 63% strength rum. Needless to say my memory becomes more that a little sketchy after I started on that. After miraculously managing to get ourselves up the hill (via the all night spa for supplies), the evening ended with me, Sam and Huw singing Happy Birthday to Jake whilst he was asleep on his bedroom floor, and then feeding him coffee granules before watching Spinal Tap. This time the night ended in rum (hah, weren't expecting that were you!?).

And the rest

After the exams were over I decided to treat myself to an accoustic guitar since I have been missing playing due to my electric being at home, and also because I've been wanting an accoustic as well for a while. However upon inspecting the price of guitars in Aber's music shop, I came away thinking that perhaps my loan might not be happy about my guitar purchasing plans. Thankfully, salvation was found in the form of eBay, where for £56 including postage, I managed to get a beuatiful black accoustic with a blue magpie pattern on the finger plate. Pictures will be posted as soon as I find my camera and batteries for it.

I have attended ReLoad twice since returning. The first was a mistake since I consumed so much rum that I ended up dancing. Picture that for a moment. Me. Dancing. In fact, not only dancing but dancing on stage. Shocking. I also managed to spill my drink all over my jeans at one point, which put me in a bad mood since I had paid good money for that rum and coke. Although thankfully I forgot about the incident 30 seconds later when I had dashed to the bar and purchased more beverage for consumption by my good self. The second ReLoad was also a mistake, since I spent it alternating my time between fighting my way to the bar and sitting on a sofa ocupied in being mind-numbingly bored since not many people had turned up. And then some drunk girl next to me decided to start up a conversation, which mainly involved her asking me my name over and over and stroking my hair. Not that I have any problem with that in itself of course, but the realisation that women only start conversation with me when they are drunk was a less than cheery one.

The History society has finally started doing stuff now, although so far it's only activity has been a mini pub crawl.**** We visited a few places I didn't know existed and after attempting to see how many people would fit into a phone box (6 I think), we went to Pier. Well tried to anyway, me and Jake got fed up of waiting and went elsewhere, namely to Marco's (which for those of you who don't know is a bloody good chippy at the bottom of the hill that drunk people goto at 2am in the morning). Now I am a fully paid member of the History society, meaning that I get to go out drinking with them more. Like tomorrow for instance. Mmm drinking.

The only other thing of note that I have to mention here is the sight of Huw on Sunday evening bouncing down the coridoor shouting "Mardi Gras", opening his door, jumping again, hitting his head on the door way and falling to the ground and the door shutting behind him. Jake found him later on his floor sobbing. Quite clearly, then, there is rarely a dull night in Aberystwyth.

***

So that has been just about everything that has been happening to me in the last month. Apologies for the length of this post, but I had rather a lot of stuff to get through. I promise that future updates will not be as long and will contain pictures and flashing things as means of compensation. Things have begun to calm down now, and except for lecturs I can't say particualalrly much is happening at the moement. Which is a good thing too since lectures and uni work seem to be doing a a rather good job of eating up all of my time. Ah well, that's what I'm here, it's all good. :-)

Until next time...

On the next installment of Aladdin's Cave: Cynical rantings regarding Valentine's day produce mildy comic results.

________________
*Jake has informed me that on his visits to Liverpool, there are apparently anchor shaped objects placed at various points in the city. This has led me to believe that Liverpool is in fact really a top secret vessel of the royal navy. I have never been to Liverpool myself, but since these reports came from a person who beleives himself to be a pigeon, I am inclined to believe them.
** Would you trust a Windows system to give you accurate results for anything?
*** It was all covered in strange numbers. I am beginning to seriously wonder about this departments fixation with numbers.
****History students (and most lecturers and authors) are quite fond of drinking as a whole. I guess constantly viewing the world in an historical context is enough to drive anyone to drink, since it gives you the grim realisation that hummanity has made many mistakes in the past and we are making them all over again right now, but hardly anyone seems to notice since they are too wrapped up in such important issues as what so-and so said about whats-her-face at some generic awards ceremony and the 'footy'.

Currently: Surrounded by purple

As I type this I am sitting on the floor of somebody elses room with a laptop that I rather cunningly grabbed whilst they were occupied in looking the other way, so as such my time is limited and I must keep this brief before my hiding place underneath their desk is discovered, and bad and terrible things hapen to me.*

I have been instructed to comment on how crap my day has been thus far, which is proving to be a rather tricky task to accomplish since it's been good so far, so hah, you're plans have been thwarted. :-p Also, when you read this I would just like to say that you're snake is looking at me in the mirror and it is scaring me. It has a mad glint in it's eyes, should I be worried? :-
Today is also my last day in Hastings for the holidays, awhich of course means that tomorrow I will be able to endure the horrors of a train journey to Aberystwyth, which is never a truly enjoyable experience. Of course it is made nicer in the knowledge that once I do get back to Wales there is a pub built onto the train station. \o/

Was nice seeing everyone over the holidays, next time I'll update I'll be in Wales, so I'll see you there.


____________
*Remember kids; theft of property is very rarely ever a sensible thing to do. Unless of course you are a socialist in which case owensership of private property is theft. But of course I'm not so mean to take something without asking first. The fact they said "no" is neither here nor there.

Happy New Year

As the more astute may have noticed, a new year has now sluggishly descended upon us like a really bad hangover*, which incidentally is the way that most people choose greet the advancement of this particular unit of time following on from their antics of the previous night which tend to be variations on the theme of getting absolutely rotten drunk and slurring along out of tune to Auld Lang Syne, which would cause any more respectable, sober people nearby to groan if indeed more respectable, sober people actually existed on New Years Eve.

Once the majority of the country has managed to >TAKE BEUFFERED ANALGESIC, and the room has stopped spinning uncontrollably and we are all able to keep our stomach contents on our inside, then people tend to turn to one of the more popular traditions surrounding New Years, which is that of writing out lists of anything and everything that could possibly be done in an effort to somehow ensure that life this coming year will somehow be more fufilling, or at the very least more bearable, than it was last year. I am, of course, talking about that time honored institution known as New Years Resolutions.

By their nature, all new year resolutions will be impossible to keep which raises the question why so many people bother making them in the first place, but allow me to assure you all that this is ok, because everybody else is doing it, and if everyone else is doing something, then it must be ok. In addition, New Years Resolutions as a rule are uninventive and as cliched as you could possibly get without seriously doing damage to the nature of space time. So, in an effort to do something different, whilst at the same time conforming to what everybody else is doing, I would like to present you with my list of resolutions for 2006.

My 2006 New Year Resolutions

1. Loose weight. Because it isn't a proper set of New Years Resolutions if you don't include this somewhere on it at least once.
   
2. Put on weight. Because assuming that I am somehow successfull with resolution 1, then I would be left dangerously underweight.
   
3. Drink more. If people make resolutions in order to make their life a better one, then refusing themselves things that they enjoy seems a rather funny way of going about it to me. I intend to increase my alcohol consumption, as not only will this make my life a happier one, but it will also be one resolution I'll actually be able to keep.
4. Practice playing guitar more and become a famous international rock star. Because every list of resolutions needs to have something so utterly overblown and ambitious that it will be impossible to achieve barring a miracle.
5. Start a new hobby. Because hobbies are meant to enrich our lives, aren't they? Personally, I've always wanted to try my hand at extreme origami (like normal origami, except it is performed whilst jumping out of a plane).

And there we have it, a complete set of New Years Resolutions that could compete with the best of them. Naturally I intend to forget about all of these before January is out, but that isn't a problem since once February gets here I will befocusingg most of my efforts on feeling bitter towards valentines day and being cynical about that instead.

__________
* You may have also noticed that I am in fact 5 days late in realising this fact. I would like to counter this by invoking the ancient rite of STFU. ¬_¬

See you in Hell...

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Fifth Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test



So now you all know where to fin me in the afterlife. }:-)

Well, now the excitement of christmas day has died away and I have made quite a fair bit of damage on the christmas food supply, even if I did discover in the process that my stomach doesn't quite seem to stretch like it's used to. I would say that I have New Years to look forward to, but I rarely do anything at New Years anyway, probably because I'm still too bloated from raiding the christmas chocolates. I suppose that I should probably learn something from that, but I forget exactly what it is. Apart from that, not a grat deal is happening to me right now; saw family for the past week which was cool, but nothing thw world would be interested in reading about.

Anyway, enough about me, and onto someone else entirely (you know who you are :-P ). She's someone I've known for what is now only just over 2 years, although I would swear that it seems much longer than that, and someone who has been a good friend throughout that time who has been around to listen when I have been going through some difficult times, and she still talks to me despite me whinging at her loads in the past. She has a sense of humour which is indeed humourous and good (muff), and she always seems to have some words of consul to give to friends, far better than I am able to give at any rate, and is an all round good friend and person, who I know is going through a spot of trouble right now (I have a talent for understating things, dont I?), and I wish I could offer better advice, bu all I can say is keep going and stick at things and I hope they work out for the best, which I'm sure they shall.

Heres to you. :-)

Christmas

Christmas passed relatively well, I feel, and I now sit here typing this after having stuffed my face with a selction of various cheeses. Mmmm.

I got a rather good haul in terms of presents this year, which include:

• A PSP and a copy of Grand Theft Auto: Liberty City Stories. The PSP is very nice indeed and if I was a computer then I would definately sleep with it.
• Animals by Pink Floyd. #Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away#. Brilliant album.
• An American Werewolf in London and Pirates of the Caribbean on DVD (But why is the rum gone?).
• Eric and Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett (woo Discworld).
• 2 tubes of glowsticks. :-D
• 3 Mugs, all of which are HUGE.
• Lots of different types of coffee. I can put those mugs to good use. :-)
• A very silly hat indeed. Matches my personality.
• And a Santa weeble. He wobbles but he doesn't fall down (well, most of the time anyway).

And on top of all that I have been merrily stuffing my face with chocolate. No alcohol, but I'm detoxing for a while so that when I return to Aberystwyth I can start my assault upon the pubs of the town with renewed vigour.

Merry Christmas to you too. ¬_¬

So I decide to check to my university e-mail this morning to see if there was anything important there. Turns out that the library thinks I'm overdue on a book, despite the fact that I returned everything I had out to them weeks ago. And now thanks to the fact that a) I don't have any of their contact details since I left it all in Aberystwyth and b) I have a hunch that no-one is actually there this close to christmas, the likely hood is that over the holiday I'm going to rack myself up a pretty little fine for something I don't even have, so I have sorting that out to look forward to when I get back, not to mention putting me in a bad mood now.

Note to self: Don't bother checking university e-mail anymore since it will invariably only be bad news.

A long overdue update

Last Wednesday I was once again priviledged enough to have the displeasure of enduring the train journey from TheMiddleOfNowhere to Hell, or more commonly reffered to as Aberystwyth to Hastings. The first train was crowded and stuffy, although stuffy is perhaps a bit of a misleading term - when I say stuffy, what I really mean is blistering heat and about enough oxygen that would ensure that a flea would have trouble breathing. And then South Eastern trains managed to demonstrate to everyone that they were not satisfied with merely having delays like most other train operaters when the 20:45 from Charing Cross failed to show up completely, giving us an oppurtunity to suffer a "meal" at Burger King, if indeed the burger shaped pieces of plastic they give you there can be classed as food at all. Eventually we arrived at Battle station, only to disembark from the train and be greeted with the unmistakable smell of the south east - a strange fusion between pollution and rising damp. I was allegedly, as my nose was ever keen to point out, home.

The day after I decided to brave Hastings whilst it was gripped by the seasonal related shopping panic that most townsexperience at around this time every year. This was in itself a very frightening and daunting prospect. Hastings isn't exactly what you would call a big place, but when you are used to Aberystwyth then it is quite a shock. Even more amusing was the fact that when I got off the bus, the first thing I saw was that of alarm bells coming from McDonalds with a group of chavs and a police car outside it. If you ever needed a picture to represent Hastings, then that would be it. Thankfully, the chrsitmas shopping this year peased without too many problems, which is good because it almost makes up for the fact that everything I have seems to be breaking at the moment. I blame the south east. After the shopping was out of the way, I then spent two days engaged in the enviable task of balancing on a a chair trying to shove drawing pins in the celing in an attempt to make the decorations stay up against their wishes, the end result being that our house is now covered in so many gold and silver shiny things that if a Magpie was to hypothetically come inside then it would most likely go into cardac arrest. Yesterday evening I went out to Wetherspoons. It was really good to see old friends again. What was less good, however, was the fact the the 'spoons here waters down their drinks. Cheap bastards.

Looks like I'm going to be busy over Christmas, mainly involving meeting of family, friends and of course several days that I have reserved purely for the purposes of eating. Well, if it stops me being bored then I can't really complain.

Until next time people, and remember to be extra vigilant of tax-evading fat blokes in red suits attempting to gain entry to your premises by chimneys so that they can unload (probably stolen) goods in your living room...

Today I finally completed the first 2 out of the 3 essays I have to write this semseter for university. Ordinarily, writing two essay wouldn't necessarily pose a particular problem, but owing to various, uh, unforeseen events that occured at the start of term I did not, in actual fact, start work on these essays until a week ago. The end result was me staying up until 5:30am this morning writing them, having a 5 hour nap, then starting work on them again before running down to get them in before the deadline. Literally just made it with minutes to spare. Am feeling rather pleased with myself, and the whole thing only took me 2 litres of coke and 3 tins of red bull. Although take my advice - the human body simply cannot take that many additives in one night, as I found out. ;-)

Just been sleeping since about 5pm, and am still feeling very tired. Only problem is I'm town between pub or bed for celebration. Hmm.

Not to rewrite History?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4429000.stm

US President George W Bush has said too much is at stake in Iraq for politicians to make "false charges" about the reasons for going to war.
Amid new questions in Congress about the intelligence used to justify the invasion, he said it was "irresponsible to rewrite history".

Mr Bush said he was open to criticism for his policies but it was "deeply irresponsible to rewrite the history of how the war began".

So there you have it. According to Mr Bush, it is now "irresponsible" to rewrite History. I was foolishly under the impression that one of the features of History was the ability to challenge what has been said before - not everyone might not agree with what you say, but then no-one ever will when you deal with History. He who controls the present controls the past, indeed.

Under Bush's logic, however, my degree would be a hell of a lot more easier since I would only be required to regurtitate what I am told happened rather than developing my own conclusions.

Welsh again

Today I have learnt 3 very valuble lessons. Lesson 1: 8 hour train journeys are no fun. Lesson 2: 8 hour train journeys are no fun. Lesson 3: 8 hour train journeys are no fun.

So yeah, arrived back in Aber-bloody-ystwyth at around 7:45ish, left Battle at about midday so the journey was near enough to 8 hours. Although that being said, the connections were good without many delays. Virgin trains were as ribbush as ever, since half of the train was (empty) 1st class carriges and the other half was regular, but pretty much all reserved seating. Can't really complain though as we did manage to get seats. The train from Shrewsbury to Aberystwyth progressed in the usual fashion - that is to say travelling at 30 MPH and stopping now and then to let trains pass because of the single track line, but it's all good. A very wise person built a pub onto the side of the station at Aberystwyth, which was our first port of call before braving the hill. Made it back to the flat to discover Celia's head in the freezer. Poor thing.

Was nice to see people back home again. Battle bonfire was cool - made even better by the fact that we could actually see stuff this year. Yay. Admitedly I did spend quite a bit of time at home but in my defence I was feeling a little meh. Christmas I'll make more effort to actually do stuff. :-p

I was meaning to write something more I think, but I'm beginning to feel very tired, and Sam is currently being drunk and shouting stuff down the corridoor, so whatever it was has escaped me for the time being. I think bed is in order, as I have a day in the library to look forward to tomorrow.

Good night.

Hands up, who forgot the clocks went back last night? I know I did...

It's getting dark ouside and it feels like 6pm. But thanks to the peculiarities of British time-keeping methods it is, in reality, 5pm.

Now we can all look forward to dark evenings and dark mornings. Yay. ¬_¬

And yes, I am still running on JMT...

If you wanna run cool...

...you got to run on heavy, heavy fuel.

On the subject of British prejudice and ignorance towards change and people from other cultures

This morning (or if you would rather, afternoon) I came across this in my e-mail inbox. Whilst I usually delete most forwards I receive since they are usually complete and utter bollocks in the extreme, I felt I had to speak out against the sheer ignorance and stupidity that is displayed in this rather pathetic piece of writing.

(Note: All quotations are indented, the rest are my comments).

Story in a National Newspaper

Will we still be the Country of choice and still be Gt Britain if we continue to make the changes forced on us by the people from other countries that came to live in Britain because it is the Country of Choice??????
Think about it . .


All I have to say is, when will they do something about MY RIGHTS? I celebrate Christmas, but because it isn't celebrated by everyone, we can no longer say Merry Christmas. Now it has to be Season's Greetings.
It's not a Christmas holiday, it's a Winter Break. Isn't it amazing how this winter break ALWAYS occurs over the Christmas holiday? We've gone so far the other way, bent over backwards to not offend anyone, that I am now being offended.
But it seems that no one has a problem with that.
This says it all!

This is an editorial written by a British citizen, published in a National newspaper He did quite a job; didn't he? Read on, please!

IMMIGRANTS,
NOT BRITS MUST ADAPT.
I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on the 7th of the 7th we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Brits. However, the disgust about the attacks had barely settled when the "politically correct " crowd began complaining about the possibility that our patriotism was offending others.


I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Britain, Our population is almost entirely made up of descendants of immigrants. (The Danes, Romans ect.)
However, there are a few things that those who have recently come to our country, and apparently some born here, need to understand. This idea of the Brits being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Britain's we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle. This culture has been developed over centuries of struggles, trials, and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom.


We speak ENGLISH, not Indian, Urdu, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become partof our society, learn the language!
"Land of Hope & Glory" is our motto. This is not some Christian, right wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.
It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools.
If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.

If the 'Union Jack' flag offends you, the cross offends you, or you don't like our QUEEN, then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from.
This is OUR COUNTRY, our land, and our lifestyle. Our Laws give every citizen the right to express his opinion and we will allow you every opportunity to do so! But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about our flag, our lifestyle our government, or our way of life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great BRITISH freedom, THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.
It is Time for Gt. Britain to Speak up. If you agree -- pass this along; if you don't agree -- delete it!
anon..
AMEN

I think if we all keep passing this to our friends (and enemies) it will also, sooner or later get back to the complainers, lets all try, please.

Best regards,

Mick Wheeler

Ok, lets have a look at this shall we?

I celebrate Christmas, but because it isn't celebrated by everyone, we can no longer say Merry Christmas. Now it has to be Season's Greetings.
It's not a Christmas holiday, it's a Winter Break.

Yes, you do indeed celebrate Christmas, well spotted. In fact most people celebrate Christmas - even atheists do, despite it being a Christian holiday. People have been putting seasons greetings on cards for as long as I can remember, because as well as Christmas there is also that God awful affair of new-years, and it saves the card manufactures money to just print one slogan to cover every excuse that people may contrive to get drunk. In the same light, you get a Winter break because it takes place - funnily enough - in Winter, and usually for a period of time considerably longer than the Christmas period itself. If you want a Christmas break, then I'm sure your employer would be happy to oblige, but don't start complaining when you no longer get new-years of work to, since that doesn't come under the term of "Christmas holiday".

This is an editorial written by a British citizen...

WRONG! We are not citizens in this country, we are subjects since we ultimately fall under the rule of a monarch.

I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to Britain, Our population is almost entirely made up of descendants of immigrants. (The Danes, Romans ect.)

The article begins so admirably. From reading that I could almost believe that this person has some ounce of intelligence. He realises that there is no such thing as a "true" British person - something that a lot of people have trouble with.

This idea of the Brits being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As Britain's we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle.

Oh dear, after such a promising start it begins to fall down immediately, what a shame. Britain does not have a national identity of it's own, and neither does it have it's own language, society or lifestyle. In reality it's a great big mish-mash of Celt, Pict, Norse, Germanic, French, Norman, Angle, Saxon... the list goes on and on. At one point in our history we had a king who was German and couldn't even speak English - to counteract this he appointed a "Prime Minister" to deal with parliament for him, and the position stuck and became precedent.

We speak ENGLISH, not Indian, Urdu, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society, learn the language!

Yes, we may certainly speak "English", but English is a language only in name. It's an amalgamation of many other languages that got absorbed as people from other countries settled here. If you really want to carry on British tradition, then the best way to do so would be to absorb the languages of anyone settling in Britain now, since this is the way things have always happened around here. I for one would quite like some new words in our language since the ones we already have to play with are beginning to bore me.

"Land of Hope & Glory" is our motto. This is not some Christian, right wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.

Excuse me? Christian men and women founded this nation on Christian principles? Well that really is quite some feat considering the people that originally settled here were pagan. And since Christ hadn't actually been born at the time they were around, I think they had a pretty damn good reason for not being Christian too. And even when Christianity was introduced into this country, there was certainly nothing principled about it - when the Bible was translated into English, it was re-worded, re-phrased and had several omissions that were blamed on "translation". No, the reason they did this was because the church only wanted people to know what they told them, indeed for centuries (and to some extent even today) the church as an institution in this country existed and exists as a tool for the control of people. I've never known a more unchristian institution in all my life than the church.

If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.

That's a pretty big claim saying God is part of our culture. If God was part of our culture then we wouldn't be spending our time bombing the middle-east constantly now, would we?

If the 'Union Jack' flag offends you, the cross offends you, or you don't like our QUEEN, then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from.

For starters the Union Jack is what is flown on British naval vessels. What you're thinking of is the Union Flag, which is the atrocity that flown everywhere on land. It IS offensive, at least to me it is, and presumably some others too. The Union Flag, being a montage of the flags of England, Scotland and Ireland, is a symbol of how the English marched into Wales, Scotland and Ireland, subjugated the people there, made them second class citizens and took away their rights and freedom. Tell me again that it isn't offensive.
I have nothing against the cross. It doesn't offend me and I wouldn't call myself a Christian. Out of the atheists, agnostics, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus etc. that I've spoken to, none of them ever once gave me anything to suggest that they were somehow offended by the cross. Perhaps if you conversed with people from other cultures and religions more often you might realise that they're just the same as you and I.
As for the Queen, well she seems like a nice enough lady, but what purpose does she - or any other monarch past or present - serve? The only things monarchs used to do in the past was tax the poor and then use that money to declare war on other countries. We have a Prime Minister to do this instead now, so the post of monarch is redundant.

Our Laws give every citizen the right to express his opinion and we will allow you every opportunity to do so!

Explain to me why a senior citizen (this is an ironic term if you remember that we all subjects anyway) was recently escorted (read: thrown out) out of a speech being given by a Labour MP, purely because he voiced his opinion by exclaiming "nonsense!". That's hardly freedom of expression if you ask me.

But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about our flag, our lifestyle our government, or our way of life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great BRITISH freedom, THE RIGHT TO LEAVE.

If you can't face upto change, then perhaps you should consider leaving this country yourself. Change is something that should be embraced rather than hiding from. This country has been consistantly changing ever since there have been people living here. If we had less people like you, I daresay we could make some changes - and maybe even improvements - to this country. If you decide to leave however (and here's to hoping that you will), then you better take advantage of this freedom pretty soon, since when the inevitable happens and the ID card scheme becomes reality, then you will need to have one of those to leave the country, which would mean it would be hardly fair to call it a "freedom" then.

It is Time for Gt. Britain to Speak up.

Consider me "spoken up" then.

Haven't got a clue why but this amused me.

I think all my friends are ignoring me. It seems none of them actually want to pay £60 at the very least for the displeasure of a 7-hour train journey to Aberywtwyth to come and see me. It seems like none of us ever go out as a group anymore, just because we are in different parts of the country, or in some of our cases aren't even in the same country anymore. It's all just an excuse for people to avoid me.

To symbolise my misery I have written a poem, entitled "Today, I am feeling rather Brian". I can't actually be bothered to copy it here, but if you imagine 20 different metaphors for me cutting open my wrists and then sodimizing a giraffe, you should get the general idea.

My love life is also crap. Or at least it probably would be if I had one. In fact I am so upset about this, I am going to go now and put some glockenspiels on spikes.

But hey, don't worry about me, I have a puke inducing bottle of Bordeaux and a jar of relish to keep me company through these long and lonely nights in the middle of nowhere.

Currently listening to: Genesis - Back In N.Y.C

As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair,
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Off we go.

The "Great" War 1914-1918

Interesting how it came to be refered to as the "great" war...

Granted - great does not neccisarily mean good - it could instead simply mean large or big, or some-such.

But then why not call it the large war? The big war? The collosal war? The extensive war? But no, for some reason it became refered to in History as "great", a word that has quite strong conotations of being good, beneficial... even desirable.

So would someone please explain to me why it is called the "great" war? Since I fail to see how anyone could describe war as being good, beneficial or desirable...

Cymru

I have now arrived in Wales. Yes, I am fully aware that this post is more than a week old. I would also like to ask you all to kindly please ignore the previous post - I was drunk and suffering from a bout of rather severe depression one night, and I was ranting and babling about things which are probably best not spilt onto these pages.

We departed from Hastings at around midnight on the 24th. Leaving home was probably the hardest part for me. Watching all of my possesions being loaded into the car, and having to sit by and watch as my room was stripped bare with only a few things left was tough. The room was no longer mine, but having only been at that house for two years kind of lessened the sensation of leaving home. I felt as if I had "left" home when we moved out of our old house and went to Pett - I never enjoyed living there, for reasons quite beyond me since the village is quite pretty, but I digress. After checking, double checking, tripple checking, re-checking, and having a last quick check that I had packed absolutely everything we finally managed to depart from Pett at around midnight on the 24th. And even after searching the house from top to bottom to make sure I had everything, for the first half of the journey I still couldn't get rid of that horrible feeling that you have left something importnat behind. Thankfully this later turned out to be completely unfounded when I discovered that I had in fact bought perhaps a little too much stuff. Driving through Pett at midnight was a rather eerie experience - the place was pitch dark and there was mist everywhere which gave the place an almost ethereal feel. Driving along the route to my old school - the route that I was so used to and knew of by heart from the past two years also bought back quite a bit of nostaligia - and once again I was reminded that I was not to return to the place that I had been studying for the past 7 years. Luckily, as soon as we got out of the Hastings area, and as the roads became unrecognisable all of this left me, and was instead replaced by a mixture of excitement and anticipation at what lay in store for me upon arrival in Wales. Leaving home had been the hardest part, but the journey seemed to take my mind of things, and I had resolved myself to the fact that I was on my way, and there was now going back.

The journey turned out to be rather uneventful in the end. We got lost only once, and even this was nothing spectacular. As we crossed over the Severn and into Wales I began to feel a little apprehensive again, but this was short lived. After what seemed like an age on roads that went up and down hills constantly, we finally arrived in Aber-bloody-ystwyth at around 7.30 in the morning, with an hour and a half to spare before the univeristy opened. If I had of been feeling a little better I would have walked about and explored, but not having had any sleep that night, and being sustained by only one cup of rather crap tasting coffee, I decided to stay in the relative warmth and comfort of the car. It had been almost a year ago since I was last in Aberystwyth - last October I came here for a weekened to visit the univeristy's open day, and it was then that I fell in love with the place (well I loved it already, it just confirmed my views). It felt strange sitting in the car in the seafront, watching the street-sweepers at work and people out for their morning jog - watching the small town wake-up. It occured to me that thousands of students would be descending upon this place today, and the town wouldn't know what had hit it by the end of it. In a way it made me feel almost guilty for coming here and contributing to the disruption of this nice quiet town. After spending an hour or so in the car, and making the best use of the time by eating bagels and spilling hula-hoops all over the floor of the car (shh, I don't think anyone noticed this) we made our way upto the university. What happened from then on is all a bit of a blur to be honest. I was woefully sleep deprived, and couple with all my pent-up nervous energy, the whole experience was rather surreal to say the least. I remember driving into the main entrance and muttering, "I need to goto Cwrt Mawr. I think." to some nearby people that looked knowledgeble. Thankfully they were, and they pointed us in the right direction. After a bit of confusion and wandering around aimlessly being lost, the next thing I recall is being thrust a skip of paper with my address on it, a map of the accomodation and a small brown evelope containing what felt to be something metallic and key shaped. I finally found my way to my flat, aided by someone who didn't really seem to know where they were going, or even how to read a map, but this was a source of amusement for me, and since I didn't know the place any better myself, I cared little. After finding my room, and subsequently being very relieved that it was in fact quite spacious and rather nice the next thing I know I am standing in Morisons, propping myself up with a shopping trolley and trying to find food. Given that I had not slept, and coupled with horrible goodbye I was going to have to go through looming over me, it is needless to say that I failed miserabaly in this task - I shoved a few things in the trolley and we made our way back to the university - which is when the gridlock struck. Even though it seemed like the traffic jams would last forever, all too soon I was back at the univeristy, and after a brief call to the TV Licensing people, I was standing outside in the car park. The goodbye was an odd one. I watched my parents drive off, and it felt as if I had lost something. I retreated back to my room, and stood looking at the mess of boxes, and trying to busy myself with something before things really hit me. Thankfully, just minutes later I ran into friends, and all feelings of homesickness left, or at the very least were subdued.

The past week has also been an interesting experience, and if I get bored again then maybe I'll write about that too, but I think I have gone for long enough now. I realise that much of the above is probably of very little interest to anyone, save perhaps for myself who will no doubt read it in a years time and chuckle to myself. For now though, I shall depart since I have one of them "lecture" things tomorrow. Whatever that is.

Goodnight.