Long Time, No Post (I'm Getting Sick Of Titles Like These)

Good evening! Well, I tell a lie, it is actually the afternoon currently and there is even a most rare and undoubtedly fleeting glimpse of sunshine which the Welsh weather has gracefully been generous enough to lavish upon us today, and I am therefore making the most of it by... sitting indoors and tapping away on this ol' thing. But still, I shall say 'good evening' since I've felt it has always carried with it a certain amount more panache than 'good afternoon'.

Yes, once again I neglected this place. Possibly due to the fact that I would be genuinely surprised if anyone still actually visits here, partly because I can't escape the thought that I should have grown out of writing about my life on the Internet years ago, partly out of sheer laziness and inattentiveness. But I received an electronic communication from an old friend recently which reminded me of the thing and in a sudden outbreak of chronic nostalgia thought that I would once again firing up the blogging cannon and let loose upon whoever cares to drop by.

It's been a long time since I last wrote anything here, so what has been happening? Well, I embarked upon an expedition to learn more about the indigenous people of the South American rain forests, travelled the world, fell in love and achieved regional fame in Belgium as part of an avant-garde jazz and expressionist performance art troupe...

...Or rather, that is what I have done in my mind. Unfortunately the way I view the world and the way the world works rarely seems to coincide, so the actual reality of my time has been finishing my university studies. I now hold a BA (Hons.) in History, having gotten a II:1 which, to anyone who knows how these things works, is a pretty sterling effort (if I do say so myself) and more or less translates to, "I have mostly worked hard for three years, but I did not get a first because I also have had a social life."

With the completion of my course I'm now stuck in the foreboding realm of unemployment, completely at the mercy of the job market and an economy which, thanks to the wonderfully cack-handed handling of New Labour, has essentially just face-planted the floor and is continuing to slide along in its death throes to the corner marked 'recession'. Things are not made a great deal easier by dint of the fact that there is not so much a job market in Aberystwyth but more of a rickety old stall with a few hundred people piling on top of it in a desperate bid to grab one of the jobs going, of which there are only 10 in total at any given point, ever. And they're all taken.

I have no career plans at present. I might take a Masters course in History in a year or two, providing I have accumulated enough to cover the course fees. Until then I'm more or less happy to take anything going; basically after three years of frugal student living I' just like an income. From my perspective right now, minimum wage even looks appealing. Ultimately though I'd like to do something which involves writing, since it's one of the few things I am actually passionate about and enjoy doing. Perhaps journalism, or the ultimate dream is to be an author. Trust me to pick one of the most notoriously hardest careers to actually get into. And I'm unsure as to whether or not my writing is actually up to scratch... I guess you can see from yourselves from the disastrously diabolical diatribes contained within these pages. But of course if you don't try, then you'll never know, although the hopelessly optimistic plan of writing something, getting published and then living a life of luxury surrounded by vast piles of royalties may amount to little more than a badly thought through pipe-dream. One lives in hope...

And that is more or less what has been happening to me, barring the minutiae of every day life which I shall refrain from boring you with. My time is currently spent frantically mailing out CVs left, right and centre and spending a lot of time trawling through the internet for anything of interest or inspiration. And trying to write. Yes, I really am serious about the whole writing thing... God help me.

The British Culture of Spying Upon Everyone Else

I am lately of the opinion that we are living in troubled times. Take, for example, this article: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/north_west/7025671.stm. It is indeed "interesting" times when someone can be fined £260 pounds (comprised of actual fines, administrative fees and something about a £15 surcharge to fund services of victims of crime, although I am yet to work out who the victim exactly is here) for smoking inside a lorry cab due to the bizarre and banal legislation which turns them into places of work which, as we all know, it is now illegal to smoke in - regardless of whether or not you are on your own.

But no; someone saw someone smoking inside a cab, and decided they're going to turn them in. And then it just dawned upon me why the smoking ban is actually going to work so well in Britain, and that's because it appeals directly to peoples Britishness. The age old syndrome of spying on people from behind net curtains and complaining about other peoples actions. Give them a number to phone anonymously to report what they see, and the recipe is complete. We've lost our sense of community. It would seem that rather than asking someone to please put out their cigarette, something which used to be much more common place, it seems we would now rather bring the full force of the law down upon them whilst we stand back and watch from a safe distance. This is the sort of stuff upon which British people today seemingly thrive. As I mentioned before, the image of people poking their head out from behind net curtains and spying on their neighbours is an age old stereotype of Britain, but with the advent and prevalence of the mass media our society is now being moulded into this; the cult of celebrity, the constant need to know the gossip and what other people are doing. People are more eager than ever to concern themselves with the affairs of everyone else.

To make my point clear, this is not just about people being able to smoke or not. It is about the fact that we are constantly under watch, from neighbours, friends, passers-by and everyone else we may come into contact with during our daily lives. Society is becoming slowly more accustomed to the notion of intruding into other peoples affairs. It fosters a natural state of distrust and anxiety. The populace is kept continually on edge, and that is rarely safe place to stay. People become more lenient towards measures and legislation which will infringe our freedoms, and then what? Troubled times, indeed.

Back In Aberystwyth.

This is just a quick post so that I can sort out this Technorati thing. I'm not really sure if there's much point, but I am bored and I guess there is no harm in trying.

Technorati Profile

Anyway, I got back to Aberystwyth earlier today; about midday. The weather is nice and sunny with a refreshing sea breeze, which I can tell right away is going to make focusing on revision over the coming weeks all the more difficult given that there is a beach literally 30 seconds from my front door. Perhaps I should work on a way to combine the two, although I fear that would just end in me chasing books and pieces of paper down the beach which have been blown away by the wind. Someone needs to invent paper which is exactly the same as normal paper but doesn't do that. Or I guess I could just use strategically placed rocks...

An Exercise In Boredom

I am going to be straight with you; this is going to one of those generic blog posts in which the blogger (that's me) bores the hell out of the reader (that is your lovely self) for an unspecified period of time with all manner of mindless and droll details of what he has done the previous week. This is, of course, the rock upon which blogging was built so it never ceases to surprise me when I hear people talking about how blogging has been 'revolutionary' and has enabled the effective spread of free and uncensored discussion of current affairs and the faster proliferation of information and ideas. No, what it really is, is just some guy telling the rest of the world why the cheese sandwich he made that day was so awesome (and it really was) and how nice the weather has been (it really has). Perhaps we could say that blogging allows us a much more personal, and overall more human, insight into the lives of our fellow man (and woman, of course), or perhaps we could say it's just a bit of silly fun. All I know for certain is that it's giving me something to do whilst in the grips of holiday induced boredom, which is surely a good thing because without such a grounding I could well be going around causing all manner of mischief in the Welsh countryside; saying 'boo' to geese and spraying graffiti on cows, and none of us want that to happen, I am sure.

Today it suddenly dawned upon me that I have managed to avoid doing any real work for 2 weeks now. Oh, sure I've looked at books, scribbled down notes and sat staring at the horizon in a philosophical manner for literally minutes, but I realised that I haven't actually done anything that could possibly be construed as productive, by any stretch of the imagination. Given the impending proximity of the exams next month and a 5000 project which I still need to make some serious headway on, it has, on the whole, not been a very happy realisation for me that I really need to start working harder. In other words; I have to get my arse in gear, quick-sharp.

I am also fairly confident that my lack of work has not been helped by the isolation of my current location. Whilst it is very peaceful and that watching a woodpecker jump around from branch to branch, tweeting away in a manic and frenzied manner whilst listening to Lindisfarne on my MP3 player is a pleasantly relaxing way to spend my afternoon, it cannot, in my mind, beat the good company of friends. That is, to say, getting progressively smashed in a pub of our choice. Getting back to Aberystwyth should be good fun then, hopefully for me at some point over the next week.

And that is about the long and short of what I have to say. I've had a haircut the other day which, with one fell snip of the scissors, has managed to transform me back into the 5th Beatle that I used to be and has also had the added effect of making me look as if I am 17 again. I'm sure I would appreciate such a magical reduction in age if I were somewhat older, but for now I suspect ordering in pubs is about to become a much more long winded experience than it was previously. Since I am feeling generous, I shall leave you with a picture of me looking apparently fed up to the eyeballs and rather disgruntled at the experience of being outside, which I can assure you is the opposite of the truth but I fear my assurances will be all for naught given the comparative weighting of worth of images compared to words...

Invisibility cloak invented. Ooh, I know, we can kill people more sneaky now!

I just stumbled across this news article from a group on Facebook, discussing how Science (is there really anything it can't do?) has come up with a way to create, what is in effect, a form of portable cloaking device.

Now, ignoring the countless references to Harry Potter which they evidently felt necessary to slip in (presumably some form of advertising for the upcoming, and final, installment in the series - Harry Potter and the Predictable Naming Scheme), it did somewhat sadden me to notice that halfway through they couldn't resist the urge to start outlining how this new discovery will aid us in the evidently important task of finding newer and stealthier* ways to kill, wound, maim and generally blow up our fellow man.

"The cloak could shield soldiers from night-vision goggles which use only one wavelength of light. It could also be used to hide objects from "laser designators" used by the military to illuminate a target, he said."

Far be it from humanity to ever invent something without 5 minutes later wondering how it could best be used to effect death and destruction...

That being said, however, I am struggling to think of any use for a portable invisibility device which isn't morally suspect in one way or another. Personally I would use it to lift up small objects, and wave them in the air in front of other people whilst making "Wooooo, woooooo!" noises, scaring and generally worrying them. What about you?

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* STEALTH! Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun, MEW!

Like An Orchestra Of Tiny Baa's

I'm currently sitting in my parents kitchen staring out the conservatory windows and idly looking across the small valley outside, or at any rate I would be doing that if my current view wasn't blocked by about 15 feet of concrete shed just outside the window. And whilst being in what is very likely the most isolated place in Wales, and it wouldn't surprise me if it transpired the whole world too, and whilst the view is very pretty and the weather pretty good for this time of year in the land of eternal rain, there is just one problem. It all gets very boring after about a week. Since it has been scientifically proven (and by Science, no less) that blogging can alleviate an estimated 15-20% of a persons boredom it is with this in mind and a small degree of desperation that I am going to do just that and hopefully bore you all half to death in the process. And you're damn well going to read it too, because otherwise the mutant ninja monkey standing behind you will be displeased. And you wouldn't like him when he's mad, you really wouldn't.

All that being said, however, the Easter holidays have been nice and relaxing thus far. I went down into Lampeter to have a look around the town, although sadly this did prove correct my fear that there in fact nothing at all there. Butcher, baker, no candlestick maker thanks to the advent of electricity and a couple of pubs - you know the sort of place. But one which has been dressed up to fool people traveling through that there just might be more than first appears, despite the opposite being true in reality. Although perhaps living in Aberystwyth has given me too much of a taste for life in the big city since I do not man to put the place down too much. It is actually really quite nice, and I even managed to buy a pair of boots (pictures of which adorning my head will be made available shortly).

The other day found be walking around some place in the Cambrian mountains. The weather was beautiful and the views were stunning, not to mention all other manner of clichéd descriptions. However, 2 things struck me as odd about this day out. The first, and this may reflect badly upon my own grasp on reality, was that how similar my surroundings were to that of Final Fantasy XII. I could almost believe I was in a real life version of it, minus the frequent wolf attacks and cool looking katana strapped to my back, of course. The second thing which amazed me was that I managed to somehow, in the course of the day, become sun-burnt. Not only can I not remember the last time this happened to me (if, indeed, it has even happened at all before now) but I managed to achieve this remarkable feat in April, a month widely known for the increased chance of rain,* and in a place where it rains for more days than there actually are in a year. Not too sound as if I am complaining too much, but if the sun is going to burn me I expect it to at least have the common courtesy to do so in a more glamorous country. I'd file a complaint, but unfortunately no-one had discovered a way of controlling the weather yet. I suspect that whoever manages that will become a very rich person indeed.

So between that, playing a lot of Final Fantasy XII, reading an awful lot of Discworld books and generally avoiding all of the work I should be doing over Easter, that is how my week has panned out so far. My plans for next week involve a lot of swearing over the student loan* form and no doubt contracting heat-stroke in Siberia and pneumonia in the Sahara, given my luck with the weather.

Hope you are all well and having fun this Easter and have consumed a satisfactory amount of chocolate based goodness. For all of you back in Hastings right now, remember that no matter how bad the Chav problem may be down there, at least you aren't deafened by the incessant bleating of a thousand sheep every time you step out your front door.

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*April Showers, and what-not.
** They usually send these out around about now, don't they? At least, I remember getting mine around this time last year. The fact that I don't have one this year leads me to believe that they completely ignored my letter telling them of my change of address. Yay, fun.

"Things will be different."

Last night, Rockstar released the first preview trailer (http://www.rockstargames.com/IV/trailer_splash.html) of the next instalment in the Grand Theft Auto franchise; GTA IV. I was in the pub at the time (more about that at a later point) but I've just watched it this morning and it is simply stunning.

It appears to be set in what looks like a complete reworking of Liberty City, as GTA III did to the original GTA's version of the city, but this time is a much more realistic recreation of the city, with several landmarks from the city it is parodying (New York) present.

Working on the assumption that the guy talking during the trailer is either the main character of at least features prominently, it would also appear that you'll play a Russian or at least someone connected with the Russian Mafia.

Oh, and did I mention that the graphics look lush? According to my trusty friend Wikipedia, the shots in the trailer were taken from in-game from it actually running on a console. The prospect of being given free run of an entire city (or perhaps even more, if they do something similar to San Andreas) which looks almost life-like leaves me wanting to get hold of this game now. Looks like I've got until October to get a PS3, then.

Essays done. \o/

Another term of another semester is coming to a close. And what have I learnt? Mainly that my time management skills are still in a serious need of an overhaul given my tendency to constantly hand essays in one day late. But then my marks are being high enough to still get me Firsts, despite the late mark penalty. All in all, I guess I cannot complain.

Essays are all done and handed in (finally), and I've celebrated in the only fashion which I know how. And shall most likely do so tomorrow as well.

Well that's all I have to say. I may well have not bothered, but then I wanted to write something to fool you all into thinking I had something important, useful or at the very least amusing to say. Sadly, I do not.

Photos from the other day.

The top of Constitution Hill offers a nice view of Aberystwyth town centre, and as such there have been many people who have duly trudged up its slopes to take pretty much the exact same shot. And throwing originality out of the window, I've decided to join them. Apologies for the less than perfect quality; they were taken on my digital camera, which I never intended to use for much more than capturing embarrassing pictures of people in the pub. When the weather gets a bit better, I'll put my film SLR to better use. Promise. Look, I even created a Flickr account to make sure I do. (Click the pictures to see the bigger sizes on there).

Nothing amazing, but a good opportunity for me to show those of you who have not seen Aberystwyth yet how much nicer my town is than yours. :-P

I'll be brutally honest. I really cannot be motivated enough to think of an amusing title for this.

Hello again. Thought I'd fire up the ol' blogger again, this being mainly borne out of boredom and more caffeine in me than is generally considered healthy.

Lots of things have been happening in my life recently, such as... no, I'm sorry. I really am, but I just can't keep this façade up. Between reading about the political life of 19th Century Parisian workers and playing Final Fantasy XII, my life will appear to the observer to be about as interesting as watching paint dry. Not for me though; Final Fantasy XII is an incredibly awesome game. I'll spare you the minutiae of why this is the case, but all I need to say is that if this game were a person I'd be marrying it.

St. Patrick's Day happened again. I think I managed to top last years (which you can read about here: http://aladdinscave.blogspot.com/2006/03/st-patricks-day.html) seeing how I managed to somehow end up sitting in someone's basement until 6am drinking gin and playing guitar in what I can only reasonably describe as some form of hippy-beatnik jam session.

I got a first on one of my essays (which, as it's name suggests, is the highest mark you can get) the other day. I am particularly pleased about this because I managed to get the first even with 5 marks having been deducted from it for being a day late. My lecturer told me he didn't agree with my argument, but since it was none-the-less well informed and well argued, it was a good essay. That's been a bit of a confidence boost, and a well needed at that, given that lots of work has suddenly piled up on me like a vicious army of words and books.

This has been a good weekend so far. Friday night... well, my memory is none too good on that one, but I can only assume it was an awesome night. Today has been spent walking up Constitution Hill*... and then back down again. The evening has been spent at the cinema watching The Number 23, a ridiculously preposterous film where Jim Carrey plays a guy who becomes obsessed with the number 23 when he realises everything can be traced back to this number, no matter how obscure or wild the link. I thought it was an okay film, but could be greatly improved with one slight modification; the actual number 23 running around and killing people. Or just some guy in a foam costume shaped like the number 23. Something like that. It would make the film far more amusing to watch.

I'm still feeling in that in between state of alertness and tiredness. Remember kids; caffeine is the high you cannot sleep off - don't do it! Me? I'm off to prevent impending war. Mmm, Final Fantasy...

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* A big hill located at the northern end of Aberystwyth seafront. Presumably a popular location for students and tourists, they thankfully had the foresight enough to ensure the café is also licensed to sell alcohol to prevent a riot breaking out when people realise they have, in actual fact, just climbed a hill where there is nothing on top. **

** Barring, of course, a game entitled 'Frizbee Golf'. I am unsure as to how this is played, but I have several theories, each of which conjures of humorous images.

I wish I had a keyblade. *Sigh*

I am going to talk, or rather type, very slowly. But since you will probably be reading this faster than I can type it or even think it in my own head, then I imlpore you to read it slower than you normally would to avoid creating some sort of time paradox.

That made a lot more sense in my head than it probably does to anyone else, and I can tell you why I am making even less sense than usual (and that's saying something), and what's more, I can tell you in two words: Kingdom Hearts II.

Oh shit, that was technically 3 words, oh well no time to move finger over to delete key, need to carry on...

This game is, for want of any other word, amazing. I can't really say it's any better than the first, but I can't say it's any worse either. The standard of both of them is one of the highest I have ever seen in a computer game; the story is one of the most engrossing I have come across. I know it's been out for a while now, but I choose to put off getting it until Christmas in order that it wouldn't interfere with my work whilst I was at university and judging by the fact I have been pretty much glued to it non stop since opening it on Christmas Day, I would say that was a rather sound call...

However, as we hardened gamers know, it is advisable to take a break every so often from playing a game, although we very rarely do. This has been one of those rare occasions where I have actually adhered to this guidance which is usually printed in small letters at the start of game instruction manuals, although the fact that I choose to spend my break periods playing Guitar Hero II instead perhaps renders the whole point a bit, err, pointless.

So in conclusion, Christmas has been pretty good thus far. I'm mainly being fuelled by pringles and ginger ale and am having difficulty distinguishing from the real and virtual worlds. But then isn't this what living is all about?

Not really, but then, uh, err, I forget where I was going with this thing.

I think I had best go lie down for a bit...

And then play some more Kingdom Hearts II.

Is the microphone on?

Looks like it's time, yet again, to ressurect this thing and actually use it for something. Anything. I really have no for what purpose, but that's okay because, as everybody knows, all internet bloggers really do is just try to find justification for an online glorification of their own egotistical bents. And thus Aladdin's Cave shall live again, just like it never really did before. I would question why I keep letting it die, but then given that it's readership was most likely made up of about 10 people and a cat (now sadly departed), one could question whether it was truly alive to begin with.

Right yes, so anyway. Blog. Blogging. Bloggers. Bolognase. What's it all about then? Well the last one is a kind of Italian pasta sauce thing but I am fairly sure, and have it on reasonably competant authority, that all of the others have very little to do with pasta or sauces, Italian or otherwise. Unless it was a blog about pasta sauce, or written by an Italian. However, I am not myself Italian and must confess that my knowlege of pasta sauce is sadly lacking, so I shall end this wild digression now.

What's been happening in the world of me lately? Well the second year of university started, which has been progressing as one might expect. Lots of work and lots of parties, and so on. I've learnt why people despise landlords so much and now dread that certain time of the month when the bills arrive on my doorstep. Seriosuly, bill day is like the male equivalent of a period. It generally puts me in a bad mood anyway, which I refuse to snap out of until I have gorged myself upon pringles (I'm not really much of a chocolate fan).*

I've moved to Wales, or rather my parents have. Wales is as you might expect - hilly, windy and wet. And yes, there are lots of sheep here. I can even see them from my bedroom window, or at least I could if it were light outside. It's quite nice here though and the weather doesn't bother me that much anymore since I've grown quite accustomed to it having lived in Aberystwyth the past year and a bit. I want to learn some Welsh now, I've always wanted to speak a second language, so I thought I'd learn one which will be useful should I go to the local village, but completely worthless anywhere else in the world. Which is probably why it appeals to me so much, I like things like that. And besides, it will be a lot more worthwhile than that time I spent a whole summer learning how to read and write in Quenya and Sindarin.** Wales is nice, although I miss being able to see my friends in Hastings though, there isn't much to do here other than lay on the bed all day watching endless episodes of Dr. Who. Although Chirstmas is a nice thing to keep me occupied. Lots of shiny bits of paper and tasty food to eat. I love Christmas.

Apparently the next Harry Potter book is going to be called 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'. I know this because the BBC deemed it to be suitable front page material. Don't worry about all the stuff going on around the world guys, it pales in significance to this. I even think all those people in the world dieing of starvation may even be cheered by this good news. I guess I should not be to harsh, I don't really have a leg to stand on*** since I have read all of the books so far. Although I must confess I may not always have been paying attention. The books need less of the silly relationship going-ons and more action. Like fighting, dragons****, people getting asploded by big spells and the like. Moar swords too. I'm reading a book called 'The Coming of the King'***** by Nikolai Tolstoy currently. It's to do with the Authurian legends and stuff, but is quite heavy going. Lots of Welsh words, for instance. It's a good book though as far as I can tell.

I've probably gone on for long enough now. Most likely far too long considering I just strung out a random stream of thoughts for 5 paragraphs. But then that's what you get with this place. I hope you all take care. Dress warmly - it's cold out there. If I don't update in time, then have a great Christmas and new years. Nadolig Llawen a blwyddyn newydd dda****** and all that jazz.

Until next time. :-)
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* Chocolate flavoured pringles? The prospect intrigues me...
** The two elven alphabets out of The Lord of the Rings, for the uninitiated.
*** Metaphorically speaking, of course. In reality I have two legs to stand on.
**** And they definately should have cast Trogdor as one of the dragons in the last film. TROOOOOGDOOOOOOOOR!
***** "In the fire, the king will come / thunder rolls, piper and drum / evil sons, overrun / count the sins, judgement comes." I always think of Wishbone Ash when I read the books title. Wishbone Ash rock.
****** I learnt that one of a Christmas card.

Journey now through the transcendent...

I can't remember what time it was or how I had gotten there, but all I knew was that I was walking through London trying to find something although what something I don't recall. The tedium of the airport waiting lounge was beginning to become overbearing and the old guy asleep in the corner was doing little to reassure me. Attempting to buy lunch resulted in little more than an emptied wallet, so I ventured on.

Around the corner I was greeting by 3 spinning blue cars, rotating elegantly as ballroom dancers. As I stood there, they ceased their fandango and the operators stood and stared at me. The mayor was trying to explain that the whole place would have to be destroyed since the road had violated the local by-laws concerning road junctions. Even though I had never seen the place before, or likely ever would again, I still shed a tear for the lost memories of that road. I bidded farewell to the mayor and the spinning car operators and journied onwards.

I stopped off on the way home to buy a pack of medicinal wafers; the shop clerk seemed somewhat alarmed at my surprise of the price of nine pounds and something or other. I hastened on.

Arriving now at home, which was unlike any other home in that it was castle shaped and contained no roof but it had a ceiling. I tried to prepare a dish of peas, marrows and beans but the thing was scuppered by the lack of mint sauce, all I could find was dusty old bottles of wine. It was after I drank the beer, whiskey and black that I retired to bed. The kitchen was too far to go to use a laptop.

PHP monster is coming to get you!

The headache from yesterdays incicdent still hasn't abated, which has succeeded in putting me into a rather irritable mood, although I think this was helped along by the fact that I had nightmares last night where I was being chased by endless pages of PHP code. I can't even code PHP, so I don't know why in the hell I would end up dreaming about this, but perhaps this would explain why I was so frightened of it. I wish I would go back to not remembering any of my dreams, because quite frankly I'd rather not know this.

The last 2 hours have been spent battling with a mattress, since the old mattress on my bed was broken* and possessed the equivalent comofrt of a pile of rocks. It put up quite a fight with the doors, but I managed to subdue the fiend in the end. Even if it's now giving me a smug look as I leave it out to air. I forget why exactly I am doing this but the instruction manual told me to. Sadly they did not provide any explantaion as to why they deemed it neccessery to include an instruction manual with a mattress. I was half expecting them to say something like "Lay down on your new mattres, close eyes, ????, PROFIT!". I'm sure this is just another mystery of the world which I'll never quite figure out.

The campaign against glass objects is going well. I haven't found any new members yet, but I did give my window a baleful look this morning which made me feel a little better.

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* Hurrrr.

People Against Glass - For a glass free tomorrow.

So after a brief hiatus I return to bring you more stories from the world of me. No, no, don't run away now. You'll like this one - I get injured. Oh, you bunch of sadists, you. :-P

So yes, who's seen those comedy sketches where a man walks straight into a sheet of glass? Something akin to the misfortunes of Johnny Depp in the most recent Charlie and The Chocolate Factory spring to mind here. Well these things aren't merely confined to the realms of comedy, no there really are some of us who are just downright stupid enough to make headfirst contact with a hefty chunk of glass. Such as happened to me this morning when, in my hungover state, I managed to succesfully make my headache ten times worse than it had been when I had awoken when I promptly walked straight into a glass overheard kitchen cupboard door which had been left ajar. Presumably because looking at plates through a sheet of glass is nothing compared to having a direct line of vision to a pile of plates.

Sadly this did not start of a hallucination which would reveal to me the secret of the Flux Capacitor as Back To The Future had led me to believe. Mostly it just casued stars and shiney things to pass across my vision, but then I did get to thinking. Glass. Glass is the unseen killer. Judging by the amount of times I've been startled by sparrows colliding with my windows it is clear that the inability to see glass is pretty much uniform throughout the animal kingdom. Or at the very least in sparrows and hungover people. Either way, this must be stopped.

So I'm going to jump on the media bandwagon and do what all well-adjusted memebers of the community do when they are slightly inconvenienced - start shouting at all available oppurtunities "OMFG THIS MUST BE BANNED IMMEDIATELY... THINK OF THE CHILDREN... IF YOU DON'T AGREE WITH ME YOU ARE A TERRORIST AND A COMMUNIST AND YOU SMELL BAD". So now I am asking all of you lovely people out there who are reading this to stand with me and oppose this invisible menance in our society today. For the greater good we must remove this unseen horror from our lives. It's not as if we'd miss it, infact I believe we would be much better off without it. Look at castles - they never had glass windows and they were full of knights with swords and they all did routines and chorus scenes and other funky shit.

Oh, and you get a free badge too.

Exams Finished

Had my last exam (about the society and economy in France during the nineteenth century) this morning, which means that all of this exam tomfoolery is over for another year at least. Don't think I've done too badly on the exams this semster, the 2 out of 3 essays I've had back so far (I still haven't got one of them because of this ongoing AUT strike business) have been at 2:1, and my modules from last semsester were at a 2:1 avergae so fingers crossed it'll work out okay. I only need enough to pass the first year anyway, which is 40% in each module, since the first year doesn't count towards to final degree mark, so it's all good. :-)

Now all I've got left to do is packing, and then this weekend moving some of my stuff into our house for next year for storage and then travelling back home. Some people have begun to start leaving already though, so the place is getting emptier and more quiet by the day. It's quite sad really, since I won't be living in halls again so I'll miss there being loads of people around. Although that being said, the idea of living in a house with our own living room and a washing machine, amongst other things, sounds pretty damn cool. Mostly I just can't quite believe that I've spent a year at university already, I'm still trying to work out exactly where the time went. Although I have a thoery that the reason I can't remember much of the last year is because I spent a large proportion of it drunk. Ah, that's univeristy life for you. :-)

Towel Day

As you may or may not know today is Towel Day, the purpose of which is to mourn the passing of the late Douglas Adams, better known as the creator of The Hitchikers Guide To The Galaxy. More information about this date can be found thusly: http://www.towelday.kojv.net/

And here is me celebrtaing this day and proving that I always know where my towel is...

Laptops - The pincale of mankinds achievments in laziness

Sometimes I really do love technology. Not because it lets us perform tasks faster, oh no. Rather, I like technology because it means that I can waste my time on the internet on my laptop without even leaving my bed. Studies dhow that productivity can be decreased by a full 100% this way!

Which is perhaps not such a great thing considering I'm currently in the exam period again, and what I should real;ly be doing right now is revision. The key word there is should, and besides I'm sure there's is some by-law somewhere that prohibits revision on weekends when you're feeling lazy. And if there isn't, then I'll make one. See? That's politics!

Already had one exam yesterday, which on reflection didn't go quite as badly as it could of done. Then again, it could probably have gone a lot better too, but as long as I pass the year, then it's all good. And besides, thatnks to this ongoing AUT action, it doesn't look as if our exam papers are actually going to be marked at any point soon which, if I understand correctly, means automatic pass to next year. That works for me.

I've been thinking of volunteering to write an article for the History Society journal for next year, although I haven't got the faintest idea of what to write about. I always thought being told that you could write about any (History related) subject that you liked would be easy, but it turns out trying to think up a good topic is harder than it first appears. Anyone got any ideas?

Well, that's about it for now - only a couple of weeks until I come home now. I'm looking forward to getting back home again now and being able to see people and generally relax and not do very much at all. Although I will be sad to leave this place since it is nice here. Ah well, come September I get to come back. And this time equiped with a house rather than uni accomodation. :-)

See you next time...

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.