6th June 2011

Recently I have had some form of luddite awakening, by this I mean that I have in the last few months started collecting vinyl records, and actually purchasing printed books, I have been tempted to actually use Itunes or bite the bullet and purchase a kindle, but I just can't seem to do it

What reasons could there be? Well most of my idealistic childhood memories are of technology which is now obselete and would cause me at the ripe age of 23 to be called 'Grandad' by a sickened child...most probably quite loudly due to the volume of their Ipods. I remember with fondness me and my brothers trips to the independant video shop, which according to my dad smelt of cannabis, and presumably had Video Nasties and Pornography under the counter for trusted customers. The clamshell casing would be colour coded in accordance to the certificate the cassette had been given, green for a 'U' Yellow for a 'PG' and so on and so on....once home myself and my brother would usually become indignant at some inconsiderate lout who contravened video rental code by not rewinding the tape, causing some 2 to 3 minutes rewinding mixed with grumbling.

The pause button as Eddie Izzard once commented didnt really pause the image but kind of left the image shaking, hopping up and down, my Thomas the Tank Engine video would with the use of the pause button have the Fat Controller dancing a merry jig, all that was missing was his excess girth wobbling about merrily. One could also enjoy extra fun by using the cassette itself as some form of masquerade mask, with the two white holes acting as psychdellic eyes. Like a Panda in negative.

Audio Cassettes largely elict memories of a simpler time, when one would have to record and pause with some vigour, I shan't go into this too much for fear of sounding like a thinner more southern Peter Kay tribute act.

Back to today, we can find anything we want within minutes, which admittedly is splendid, but its the physical object itself that for me is the best part, holding the album, looking at the Artwork (itself a lost art now as nobody stares at their Ipod looking at whatever inconsequential image is used for the vacant space that is a modern album) and it actually taking up space, perhaps its a need to physcially state 'this is what I like'....or more likely it's easier to hide an embarassing album then the social risk of putting my Ipod on shuffle.

Yeh, probably that.

MJC

10th February 2011

Having been some time since writing a blog I wondered what this reason may be, it is in truth down to several reasons mainly revolving around that old enemy laziness. Another reason however is the knowledge that I will have to put forth this blog and promote it having been written via the huge bastion of social networking.

Yes you dear readers (the s may need removal) will probably think that it is a topic well past its best before date seeing as a Oscar nominated film and about 300 million articles have been written about it, and that I have probably written bits about it in the past, but such is the repetition of what I myself read on Facebook every day I doubt anybody will mind all that much.

Are there positives to the growing social networks? Of course; events in North Africa have shown that it can be used for a worthy cause, and to a lesser extent the student protests here, (which given that we live in a democracy already makes that look a wee bit pithy compared to people willing to die just to be able to be let down by their elected (sort off) leaders.

Social networking has also seemed to boom because of democracy, now you needn’t bother people at their homes asking them to vote for a candidate, much easier to not interrupt them whilst having their fish fingers and post a tweet instead. As many know I was actively involved in the last general election, and being a man of the left Twitter is a rather good tool for keeping in touch with those of a similar persuasion, until it started to get…well…repetitive.

Another offensive Daily Mail article predominantly aimed at a political spectrum that isn’t ours? Lord no! This would then usually create a hornets nest for a few hours (the world moving so fast that nobody really will remember the furore in a weeks time because a new cause will be haphazardly whipped up by then) and really nothing of consequence is done, apart from people self satisfied that they have tried to bludgeon others into their way of thinking, which in a democracy doesn’t really work. Who likes being told what to read and think?

It was this growing sensitivity and constant outrage that desensitised me from any right wing ramblings. If we are to react so outrageously each and every time then it will just create a boy cried wolf mentality, aiding the right’s views of the left as woolly liberal cry babies who’s suffering from incredibly tight wicker sandals.

One of the most important lessons to learn from this is to pick your battles. I myself enjoy a good feud or battle, but in truth if I took every one of them on I would end up being stabbed on a bus by the time I even got into work.

And so ends my first part of this several part (depending on how much I can get out of this one) series on social networking, as this shall be posted on a social networking website let me know what you think, unless Cheryl Cole has a new tattoo or something, that might require analytical discussion not seen since whatever the last disaster enquiry was.

MJC

23rd November 2010

After a couple of months of deliberation and what not I have decided to perform stand up at least one more time, then seeing how it goes, I am rather excited about this as I felt I was getting stronger with each time I performed though perhaps let down by one or two crappy gigs, that said the crappy ones tend to be much more educational then the ones that go well.

One of the reasons I decided into returning to it is the seemingly endless thoughts that come to mind on material and new jokes and so on, it feels a shame to just let them continue to be thoughts, so I have actually WRITTEN them down on some paper. It is healthy and cathartic to articulate your thoughts anyway onto paper. This is why probably most Americans (who lazy comics or people will denounce as all thick and illiterate) commit high school atrocities, they haven’t learnt to carry a journal or diary.

‘Tuesday….wore brand new shiny trench coat…nobody commented or liked it, handed in my creative story about how I blow the head of prostitutes and being the seed of Hitler and Marilyn Manson, teacher didn’t even like it the prude! Asked out girl, she vomited all over those trays that Americans eat from in those films….ended day with head being flushed down toilet and anus brutishly manhandled by homo-erotically close generic sports team…would ruddy well love to come in tomorrow heavily armed and start a reign of terror, killing lots of people then having it covered by all media thus giving me a platform for fame that otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten.’

I think he would feel a lot better about his life after articulating it so well personally.

Of course it does take me back to when I played a high school shooter in ‘Bang Bang Your Dead’. It was a decent play though I always felt ruined that nobody else seemed to want to do American accents, which would have made more sense with the plays American lexicon. But I was indeed reviewed as ‘Lacking the conventional build and look of a leading man’. I was playing a high school shooter, not Zack Morris from saved by the bell! Of course he had to be podgy and long haired and generally a bit of a creepy looking so and so for it to work! So there!

I don’t let the reviews get to me though and that’s what matters, which is just as well come the 8^th December at the Boathouse in Cambridge, do come along but if you don’t laugh you’re a humourless twat.

No pressure then for me or you.

MJC

18th November 2010

Having reached the conclusion that I was fast becoming a bloater once again, and having not reached that Marlon Brando level of star quality to actually justify my physical decline, I have bit the bullet and returned to Weight Watchers, last week is when I went back and it was daunting, as it will always be being a 22 year old man going to a predominantly female group. Made worse by going when severely hungover, as we all know a fry up or some form of lovely saturated fat is the best cure, standing on some scales and being told your fat is not ideal.

A troubling aspect of my return is the new points system that you may have read about, I can say as an overweight insider of the system that it is about as confusing as talks of refinancing foreign currencies. A pint of lager which once in the days of yore was 3 points, is now 6.This all balances out though as I am on 46 PROpoints (I was told off for saying points) a day. This is basically meant that in these tough economic times they have had mass inflation on the health values of certain foodstuffs, it’s a sad day when even mass diet plans suffer as a result.

When I answered the leader woman’s question on how many points I was on I met the ire of a Northern Irish woman, who angrily asked why I had so many points, I was taken aback and lost for words I merely shrugged my shoulders and let off a nervous (but probably smug looking) grin.

I should probably have soothed her fears that I had somehow colluded with Graham Weightwatcher in order to give me more points then everyone else in the group as clearly I want an excess amount of points to satisfy my urge for roast Ox and Lard flavoured Ginsters pasties. It seems within minutes of my weightwatchers come back I had already made a nemesis, luckily I am a person who thrives on having a nemesis as it spurs me on more when I know that someones opposing me. Even if its in my own head.

Mind you it was probably an innocent question and I may be paranoid, but how can I not be when everyones out to get me?

MJC

26th October 2010

After running out of excuses to write anything here I am. The last excuse if you must know was to feed the cat then visit my Nan.

Anyway I thought I would share my thoughts on this seasons X Factor as I am sorry to say I have watched most of it since its inevitable and saddening return. Now the X factor definately has a little less tragedy then last year, mainly because the allowed level of human suffering has been taken by Cheryl Cole, who if the media has it right has somehow cured both famine and aids in those shampoo adverts, (news to me it just looks like her making some money). Of course money doesnt buy common sense as I am sure she could have afforded a mosquito net or whatever else avoids the spread of the disease.

Today there is great sadness that John is out and Wagner remains, sadly the majority of those upset have clearly never really come to grips with democracy and that you dont always get what you want, ask the people of Iran, or me. Wagner I appreciate as he reminds me of a summer holiday entertainer who would be seen mainly grinding against a particularly shameless mother during the disco.

Belle amie aka do we need another girl band to be honest? have been assessed by none other then my dad as 'some tarts singing', which by his prognosis means we dont need another bunch.

Mary is the sexier version of Susan Boyle, they have upgraded and gone for an Irish lady this time...she is typical in the sense that most Irish ladies over 50 sing wether anybody wishes her too or not, usually at around 1am to a pub jukebox. She has also clearly had sex as she has a husband unlike everyones favourite Scottish Spinster. (typical TV sexing up everything).

The boyband are clearly coming to terms with their virginities, and fighting hard not to lose it to Louis Walsh no matter how far their career will go as a result, good boys. Of course the producers of the show are worried about their already diva like attitude, especially their demands to 'knock before entering'. Teenage boys for you eh?

There are some other people who may or may not win.

Thats all I can muster as some of them are beyond trying to make interesting, apart from the gypsy girl who looks like Cheryl Cole if she hadnt escaped the North East. Perhaps she is Cheryls daughter and this is making up for years of neglect, dont ask her though as even your breath hitting Cheryls fragile eyes can make her cry and thus reaffirming her as the nations sweetheart for having tear ducts.

MJC

MJC

27th July 2010

I have been a naughty naughty blogger, however much has happened in the last couple of months, so much so in fact that I will no doubt have to break it down, so I may as well just start with what I am doing now, I, unlike many people who have finished University have a job, unlike the many who DO have jobs, its not really in anything I wish to do. For those who don’t know what is I do, well I work in a sexual health clinic…………………………………………………………………

I’ll allow a few moments for this to sink in.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Ok hopefully the laughter/nervous tension has subsided. It isn’t a bad job really its just basic admin things and its money, combined with not being able to spend any, AND less time to ponder on how much I loathe the Coalition government and its policies such as free schools, cutting the arts, and VAT rises, the latter being the least progressive tax you can likely make and which makes any lib dem look like a bit of a tool for campaigning against it at the end of 2009 and start of 2010.

Anyway lets not go into that pitful today, I do on the plus side have my own office, well I say my own office its bloody well mine when nobody else wants it, a bit like when a random person wants the gerkin out your burger. They are pretty happy and everyone else is nonplussed. But its nice, and I don’t have to pay any money into a tea or coffee fund, something which was upon starting here a big concern as to the formalities of taking tea and coffee before your name is on the tea/coffee list AND then waiting to be asked to contribute to such a scheme before you DO help yourself to the tea and coffee which is lovingly in the kitchen to consume. I’m sure you see my dilemma, and why many believe I may have some form of anxiety disorder.

I am making good attempts at small talk but unfortunately it isn’t one of my finer skills. Apart from safe ground like weather and weekends, it is hard to know what else are acceptable in an office style work place. Most of my repertoire as many know is out of bounds for well…just about any social situation apart from a pub or a sex chat line. However I think I’m just about coping aside from the need to make noises when nervous, and no not THOSE types of noises if anything I clench with anxiety and therefore such a thing isn’t really possible…no I seem to like to make noises much like the black guy from Police Academy, or something which sounds like the musical links between scenes in Seinfeld. Either way its yet another bad habit that I ought to probably stop at somepoint.

I was in fact planning on bringing my very intelligent mug which said the word ‘BIG’ and then a picture of a cockerill, which hilariously insinuates that I am incredibly and dashingly well endowed. However I couldn’t find this mug, and I haven’t the guts to bring in my other favoured mug which is the classic mug gets heated woman loses bra variety. Which would undoubtedly assist in small talk, but its sexualising of a woman is probably not wise in a female dominated environment and on top of that….a sexual health clinic.

See the pitfalls one can fall into?

Also keep me in a job by sleeping around yeh? If you cant find anyone let me know.

MJC

16th May 2010

The library has a mysterious gas like odour, that or cat poison, well I dont think its cat poison as its probably not legal to sell something that can kill a cat intentionally. But keen horticultural types probably know what I mean, rather worringly it got stronger when a pretty girl walked past. I hope for her sake it wasnt her. But as the act of going up to a stranger and sniffing her is frowned upon (I blame the immigrants) then it will have to be an ambigous problem.

My main concern today aside from an essay which is truly worse then a kick in the bollocks with icy boots with some form of rusty spork attatched to it is what I saw on the cover of a local newspaper today, a form of contest which has always disturbed me and annoyed me in equal measure, the baby beauty contest.

Some of you, mainly mums who I see queueing up in the shopping centre to get your offspring objectified probably justify it as a bit of harmless fun, I mean who doesnt like looking at cute infants? (Well me but perhaps I am a lone voice in a sea of idealistic and voyeuristic people.)

I see several things wrong with it, both as an active particpant of this practice and those who help judge. Firstly I am not sure what the criteria is regarding what makes a cute infant, and perhaps I am as bad as others because I too have seen certain infants and been repulsed beyond revulsion at the state of some of the nippers. But doesnt this make me bad too? Of course I shouldnt be even judging them on that merit, because its this mindset that will only drive this children as they grow up that looks alone is all one needs. In a baby contest they cant even pretend to be interested in ecological concerns, as you experience watching Miss World. All they have to offer is how cute they look dressed as a fairy, (one of the rules I shall set for anyone who has the misfortune of having to bear my seed is to not limit the clothing said seed will wear, just because its a girl doesnt mean I have to make it look like a boiled sweet).

So anyway yes what IS the criteria one judges this babies, surely it is purely based on looks, which brings me onto my next problem, isnt that slightly....creepy? Who do they get to do this, I hope they are CRB checked, anyone who shows more then a passing interest at judging should be seriously looked at, (and this is coming from the man who find the whole paedophile moral panic tiresome and self important). Are these judges rating the babies based on their current level of cuteness, or perhaps they are using basic speculation, hopefully speculating what they look like at 16 (though this isnt guranteed so beware).

This is a sloppily written effort as its purely a distraction from writing the worlds most mind draining essay, but my advice is to not justify your babies worth by having it clutch onto a dead bear carpet in front of a photographer in order to show how nice looking it is, perhaps read to it or something I dont know I'm not a mum.

MJC