Flu (swine)

There we have it, I'm a victim of my complaints, I sit on my bed looking out on to a dreary morning, and I'm on the last legs of flu! Missed work, work's missed me, work's still there but my health is struggling. May be tomorrow I'll be much better. I have a lot to catch on.

Hypochondriacal media

Have we really given into symptons of flu to diagnose ourselves with swine flu? What's the difference anyway, from swine to normal. Maybe doctors and media representives should be educating the people on that, and not publishing swine flu as 'flu'. Or maybe there's no difference at all.

I realise this post comes a bit late, but I felt the need.

Social malnourishment

You're ignorant, sorry you're obtuse, sorry you're a hypocrite? It's incredilby enlightening to see other people (work colleagues) stumble over their own stupidly inept social competency. Sorry I digress, and I know that for a fact other people (work colleagues) don't mean this by way of their own simple nature, but when you are named after your mug it's hilarious.

The main point of this post was meerly to fill a gap between drying myself and driving to blockbusters, but today was a pinnacle for miserable hypocracy.

Thanks

Rambling along my keys, between the T and the U

Not entirely true. The next morning after writing my last post, that's right all of two sentences, I'm thinking about my blog in ways I never have. Just after eating my breakfast is one, and I compare my blog to the works of my colleagues, online and in paper.

Over one year a lot does happen, and a lot of both the meaningless and pivotal. If a blog is a muse, a diary, or a record, where does it lie in literature. This is what I mull over most days. It has no standing in financial terms, though self-recognition of literary aptitude is one thing to take away. (I'm rambling on my keyboard, and if you're reading this you're probably not listening. I don't blame you, so don't let my impulsive brunch-time post bore your intellect.)

I've come across many (some) blogs over the past year and thought of my own, wondering if it is the right time to make an entry about one not involving my discontent for what I'm trying to get my head around.

And so they lived.

That's what I adore about blogs, you can write what you like and for some reason people (me) read on. Honesty comes in brackets, and I love the abstract to the hypothetical to the review.

Time for a break

So it's been over a year since I had made my last post, and in one year of thought nothing has been important enough to write about. Still turning Thoreau.

Random musings

Books to newspapers, pens to baguettes, wallets, phones, and Thoreau. I say 'tomato', you say 'tomato', screensavers to phonecalls, shorthand sentences and longhand sentences. Musings take you abroad and back, in moments shorter than seconds. Time travel is only a theory though thoughts can say otherwise. No money to travel, too much money to share. These are my musings, thanks for listening...

Damien Rice, O (2003) - is its music colourless like its cover?

This debut album from Damien Rice is certainly out to make a lasting impression. 'O' will leave you clenching onto fractured emotions as you gaze with a pensive and contemplative stare. As the acoustic tension peeks, it is released at moments of extreme suspense.

Damien's acoustic guitar quietly opens the album's first track, Delicate, and initially hopes are somewhat subdued. Very little is revealed about his style of music in the opening track. The gentle strums from his acoustic guitar hides any room for direct criticism. The smooth cello of Vyvienne Long consistently provides streams of warming melodies against the sustained chord progressions from Damien's acoustic guitar.

Damien's folk style, laced with an Irish accent, tells a less obvious tale. The words "What am I... darling," bellowed on Cheers Darlin' portrays a harrowing fable of a man love-struck, lonely and drunk.

I Remember gives the album an epic overtone in contrast to an overall mellow distinction; a 'must see' live performance. The deathly slow Eskimo closes the album and acts as a pleasant relaxant from some spin chilling moments experienced in previous numbers.

Ages like a fine wine - Faith Venus electro/acoustic

How do you know if two years down the line you won't be forced, on your own accord, to smash it into bits? Well it's hard to know how the sound of the guitar will change but it certainly will be different to what it is new. It is, like this title suggests, a fine wine that simply matures with age. The wood gets tarnished with sunlight and the air does somehow deepen it's voice - it's like it smokes when your not around.

I might be talking gibberish but it makes sense to me. I own the Faith Venus electro/acoustic and I brought it for its looks. Costing little over the £300 mark and as long as the rusty strings that it fashioned in the shop sounded okay I took it.

My focus was on it's size. This guitar has a smaller body then most, although not the size of a travellers guitar, I got uncomfortable wrapping my arm around regular acoustics for long enduring practise sessions.

The rewarding aspect to holding onto one guitar for years is seeing it's character grow, like the wrinkles of wisdom on a persons face, the guitars marks and scratches are signs of its honesty and intent. It now has a preference.

Clash of the Titans

Inside the ether of insecurity and hangovers, young adults begin building those rocky blocks called 'social preferences'. Although all is not what it seems to the prying eye.

As I slither home on one quite low-key booze-up, battling the windy rain, words started forming, echoeing inside my head, although they weren't echoes of my imagination they were voices of my friends. It went something like, "Poole number one, Bournemouth is poo," hopefully you've got the gist. Drunken chants can certainly explain a lot about a student's psychology, and expel revelations worthy of writing them down. Especially if they're of the personal kind. Although following that 'chant', it also went something like, "But I bet it's not raining in Bournemouth."

Elevate – Dance Platform Review, Lighthouse Arts Centre, Poole, Sunday 4th November 2007

Lighthouse Centre of Arts, Poole, gave name to Elevate, the county youth dance platform. This gave young dancers the seldom opportunity to perform in such a recognised venue, aiding their prospects and engraving ‘speed stripes’ onto their dancing shoes for their future.

As tonight’s performances proceeded, the audience were firstly presented with Shake, showing how their routine, named ‘Snow White – Shook Up’, incorporated the hip-hop and street dance styles, along with melodramatic heroism and, amusingly, seven young dancing dwarves all successfully sharing this remarkable and humorous take with the musing eye’s of the audience.

In contrast, the Hampshire Youth Dance Company present a more operatic performance, January 8th; simply stopping you from exhaling, their introduction proved to capture a more subtle side of dance; a duo act harmoniously demonstrating outstanding control. In succession, routines showed a striking contrast in style, colour, music and costume; all original in concept. On All Floors – BETA present themselves masked, dancing with no personification, as the plain white masks reveal no more than just their performance's expression: the idea is exploring the nature of having the same identity as everyone else and the performance piece works extraordinarily well. Finishing their routine, they reveal their identities, and taking an applauded bow.

Many performances were snippets of some larger routines originally choreographed, as each set lasted ten minutes, making the overall momentum of the show well balanced and executed. The all round variety in styles showed how modern dance culture is now growing. Venues, likes these, are containers for the future of youth dance. Audiences now have the opportunity to experience these cultures in full flow. There is a promising outcome from tonight, the route for the young dancer’s, and adult, will now be progressive. Next year may have plans for them to make this visit again but many will continue the experience onwards to a greater future in dance.

This is part of a larger review

RealTravel Magazine, Hannah James, Deputy Editor

Hannah James, the Deputy Editor for RealTravel magazine says, “A good reporter should be informative.”

The information she produces as a journalist is remarkable, “Not all travel memories are typical, and one that stands out for me often surprises those I tell it to.” While journeying across the Andean city of Cusco in Peru she gained a story that intensified her career.

Not only should there be facts, but good writers need emotion whilst having a positive approach to making a decent article, according to Hannah.

She progressed from her University degree in English Literature to journalism after a year travelling, the position of Deputy Editor at RealTravel arose. She went for it and claims it was just down to luck.

Hannah explained to me that the first time she ever published one of her stories created the biggest buzz she had ever got from her job.

She is involved with the sub-editing of the magazine and has to make crucial decisions about the final look of the magazine before printing.

Hannah is 26 years of age and still gets the same positives out of editing as she did when she was writing for RealTravel.