Sunday Morning Blues.

Recently, I remembered something.

(It's not that I had a blog which I hadn't updated in a while.)

On a Sunday morning I spent in a nearby cafe with C (which we regularly haunt for breakfast, both being lazy and unmotivated to make some) there was a newspaper on the table.

A first for the establishment, it was more of a surprise distraction from the hordes of glossy rags passing themselves off as 'light reading for the masses'. I took it up and began reading it. In between sips of tea and breakfast, I cluttered our table with a broadsheet newspaper and it took me back to a nostalgic time.

I remember, through my youth, looking forward to a daily ritual of reading the papers. It was the cornerstone of the day. We'd all read it piece by piece over our cups of tea. It was very much a family affair. Horoscopes for Mum, Financials and sports for Dad, editorials and world news for me (well, mostly comics first, since i read the paper unconventionally back to front). The papers on Sunday would occupy a good amount of my time.

The newspaper was a tool with many uses. It was used throughout the day as a reference for day to day life. What movies are on? What's the weather forecast like? Did you hear about this story? It was the Internet before the Internet so to speak. At the end of the day when we'd gone through it, sometimes it would be turned into boats or paper planes, while other times it would mainly carry greasy food in lieu of plates (the laziness bloomed early in me)

However, this is a nostalgic feeling. I no longer do this on a regular basis. I get my news on the Internet digitised with sounds and video. I no longer can read the comics first, putting me in a more accepting frame of mind for the incoming bad news. I can no longer carry greasy food in a convenient, disposable frame.

Instead I find myself reading 'comments' from other readers. Or Googling the relevance of the story, perhaps for a different point of view. With one click I can see what others have been reading most today. In case you are curious, it's the all new tea party association of America funding a signboard comparing Obama to Hitler and Lenin. I read editorial/blogs of journalists and writers alike, gleaning their expert views on the world. I read mundane little snippets of news that otherwise would make no impact on the world.

I'm a news junkie, and my drug can now be fed to me almost nonstop through a drip made of wires and microchips. I enjoy it. I came into journalism when words like convergence and 360 media coverage were the things people in suits in boardrooms were talking about. I'm at ease with technology.

Then why am I championing the newspaper? Easy. Because it was something that started me off. The medium of print was the base on which I could stand and see the world. I may have shifted to writing on a blog instead of putting pen to paper or ink to broadsheet, but I recognise where my origins come from.

The print media, specifically newspapers, are suffering. They have been downgraded from a necessity to 'if I have change left over' goods. I don't see them ever going away, but then I don't see people suddenly making newspaper delivery routes feasible again. Free newspapers are a great idea, but local news is all they can manage. Or, like the Metro, offer the snack equivalent of a broadsheet daily.

I'm sure that my views, as always, are a bit exaggerated. The feeling of nostalgia is exactly that - a reminder of what you liked in the past, something that made you the person you are. As often is the case with such feelings, they are tinged with sadness.

So, lets watch the demise of newspapers from the relative safety of the Internet. Excuse me, as I adjust my drip for some more news.

Champions against Mediocrity

About 4 years ago, some intrepid musicians disguised as English teachers in Poland came together to form a band.

4 years on they've matured, after countless hours of hard work and alcohol consumption that would make Bacchus wince, into one of the best bands I've heard in a while. I am of course talking about the brilliant Foxgang.

I first saw them at 'OxJam' a charity event held by the members of Oxfam at Mono in Glasgow. Impeccably on time and vouching to save the chickens they played their hearts out and definitely made an impact on mine.

Started by Ryan, a Geordie frontman on vocals and Joe, a quiet American from Louisiana on lead guitar, the band has been in and out of the spotlight making waves both in Poland and Scotland.

At first listen, they come across as slightly surreal in their music. That feeling dissappears once they kick it into high gear, involuntarily causing feet to tap and heads to nod in approval. Their songs are the right mix of catchy music and good lyrics that get you attached to the songs.

Individually, the songs carry a character almost as if they were real people - White English, their opening track combines an acute portrayal of social apathy combined with one of the most addictive pace in a song I've noticed in recent times. This is followed by the Beatle-esque beat of Cheesewire, words imploring you to 'take your life back' to the simpler things.

The extremely popular Nichola can only be summed up musically as a ticking time bomb. The lyrics are hilarious. They tell a story you would expect to hear from your close friends that would leave one eyebrow in a perpetual raised position, interspersed with hearty laughs.

To my best knowledge, the band's style reminds me of an eccentricity that has been missing from music nowadays. A shot of sharp lyrics and unbeatable melody gives you a much needed vaccination against the sea of indie indigestion. I have yet to find a song these gentlemen have served which isn't brimming with sheer talent.

Regulars around the popular Glasgow venues, I would strongly recommend seeing the guys live. Their shows tend to crackle and spark with Ryan's excellent vocals and band's unique onstage persona. They don't just play, they introduce you to their craft.

Looking at playing a gig at this year's Winterfest/Hogmanay celebrations in George Square, the boys could use your precious votes to give them a stage to rock out on. Details of how to vote are available on the Myspace page, as are Downloads of their tracks through TenTracks.

So come on down, be part of the gang.

The case of the missing pencils

What happens when you take a(some) large(small) animal(s), preferably dead, soak it(them) in formaldehyde and then put it(them) up for display? And what happens when your autobiography has a title so long that you need to use the whole cover for it? And what happens when you get pissy about some kid who made fun of you on a national scale?


Well, you get called a collossal nob.

The person I am going on about is Damien Hirst. In case you dont remember him, he's the chap who likes to do insane things in the name of art. He won the nonsensical Turner prize for his coveted bisected cow in formaldehyde in 1995. Hirst went on to create a giant statue of a pregnant woman, who had part of her skin 'missing' so we could look at the life growing inside amongst other animals in formaldehyde, crystal encrusted platinum skulls and cows with gold horns.

Now i'm a philistine when it comes to art, my eyes welded to the works of the great masters of old, but sure we don't need to feed the ego of a man who is, quite frankly, the artistic equivalent of the village idiot (or a very illegal, very powerful drug).

Recently in the news for the revival of his 'feud' with a 19 year old amatuer artist going by the pseudonym Cartrain, Damien has gone ahead and got Scotland Yard to arrest him for a theft of some pencils from his latest show 'Pharmacy'(which, surprise surprise, is like a pharmacy). The pencils were worth about £500,000.
As it turns out not only did Scotland Yard arrest the boy, but they also arrested his father for harbouring the stolen goods.

Why would a 19 year old steal Hirst's pencils? Well, it has to do with an incident in which Cartrain made collages which had images of Hirst's work in them (namely the platinum crystal encrusted skull). Being a aspiring young chap he sold the collages on a site which charged roughly £69 for each collage. Not a bad idea you might say.

Hirst complained to he Design and Arts Copyright committee for his copyrights on the said skull being infringed. They in turn pressured the lad to turn in his stuff and go home. He took his revenge by nicking the overpriced items and issuing a ransom note, demanding his collages and artwork back or else he'd "sharpen" them.

It's not as if Hirst's work isn't 'nicked'. His tiger shark in formaldehyde (starting to see a pattern?) was alleged to have been inspired by a person called Eddie Saunders who ran a simple electrical goods shop in Shoreditch two years prior to Hirst's monstrous marine masterpiece. Ok, so maybe there are loads of folk who hang up sharks, but to market it for millions by attaching a poem to it? You have to some kind of genius to pull it off. Perhaps at being a con.

My gripe isn't with his persona, it's with his idea that he is allowed to exert his enourmous clout as a public figure to prosecute a person who, quite frankly, was doing something harmless and trivial. Cartrain's work was in one instance making fun of Hirst but really, Can you not take a joke Mr Hirst?

The unusual suspects

Another passion of mine. Video games. They've come a long way since I first set my hands on an Atari. I realise, owing to conversation with a friend of mine, that I tend to gravitate towards game play more than graphics. I agree with him wholeheartedly.


It's not that I don't find flashy graphics entertaining. It's just that their novelty wears off quickly unless followed by some substance. Take the latest offering for the multi platform crowd - Prototype - A pretty game in which you play an genetically enhanced Ned who can flying kick helicopters and chuck cars like cards. While entertaining for a while, it falls into an unsatisfying grind of watching the same little computer people explode when you so much as touch them.


That said, I've played some grossly underrated (yet brilliant) games in the past few months and would like to recommend them to you.


Etrian Odyssey 2 for the DS is one such game. It's a first person dungeon crawler which is part Tower of Drauga, part Might and Magic. You create a party of 5 adventurers out of the 10 or so classes (12 after you unlock the secrets) and proceed to climb your way up the mysterious world tree upon whose crown rests a magical city. The tower (and it's 25 odd floors) are conveniently filled with monsters who show up in random battles as well as F.O.Es who are grossly overpowered monsters that give you no experience, but instead reward you with rare items. These once sold to the shop gives you access to some powerful weapons for your boffins. The game is unforgiving. If you die (and fail to run away to the town where you start from) it's game over.
The game's difficulty is not hard to master, but a casual gamer may find the learning curve a bit steep. I had a couple of false starts and got my party wiped clean on the first floor because I didn't quite know when to stop and go back to town. The bottom touch screen of the DS is used in a way that is what makes the game unique. It uses it as a parchment on which you are to draw the map of the dungeon. The game really does treat you as an adventurer and rewards you for collecting information on monsters and completing the map accurately. The F.O.Es are the only enemies visible on the map as different coloured orbs floating about and each floor has it's respective colour scheme. Once you've passed 5 or so floors, you've crossed a stratum and can continue from there rather than trudging up from floor one.


Then there's Swords and Sandals series. A game designed entirely in flash by an Australian company called Fizzy Games. It first started out as a game on the popular flash portal Newgrounds.com and was made by a person known as HeChaos. The premise of the game is to put you in the shoes of a gladiator in a fictional time and have you go up against other gladiators to increase in level and armament. Simple enough premise.
Subsequent versions of the games have added a little more to the mix by giving you an increasing amount of stuff to equip, a class system, magic, mana and a rudimentary skill tree that affects your play. In the background to the cartoony graphics and a guitar riff and a bunch of Australians screaming "LOOOOSEERRRR" the game runs on very D&Dish number crunching system.
The game's ever present "little fat kid" does the computations for your benefit. Every piece of armour you can equip gives a boost to a bar above your life bar which acts as a buffer for all attacks against you. However, critical hits completely bypass your armour and attack your health bar instantly, making the game a bit biased towards pure melee classes.
The game has many versions apart from the standard gladiatorial fight fest. S&S4 being a board game, with your gladiator being your piece on the board, making you spin a dice to get to the end and being marked for achievements such as most gold earned, most gold earned in minigames, most fights won, etc. Then there's S&S crusaders, an strategy variant where instead of gladiators it gets you to buy armies and control provinces for a cash flow - all the while pitting your forces against the opponents. Most of the games are prone to buggy gameplay due to their construction in flash, but on the flipside, they're tiny (25mb) and can be a good trivial escape from boredom. You can play a demo at www.Kongregate.com or www.Newgrounds.com but you have to pay £10 to own a full version.


Lastly, there's Elements. It's a card game (again designed in flash) by a person called Zanzarino whose production values are impressive. An odd bastard child of Magic: the Gathering and the Japanese Duel monsters, the game gives you the choice to specialise in one of the 12 elements and then starts you off with a deck comprised of cards related to the element (plus the Quantum deck which works for all elements).
You are then challenged to play through the game using these cards. You can play the ever increasingly difficult A.I. or you can go ahead and play against human opponents.
The mechanics of the game are robust. The objective of the game is to deplete your opponent's HP by attacking them. Summoned monsters, certain spells and equippable weapon cards called permanents can damage the opponents life points directly. You can play an infinite number of cards from your hand in any turn (provided you have the corresponding Mana) and each card has a special effect that can be triggered once per turn or, in rare cases, infinitely. At the beginning of every turn you are awarded with 1 mana per "pillar" of the element you have played plus 1 of the element you are a master in (3 random points of mana per Quantum pillar you've played).
The game allows you to have as many elements in your deck as possible allowing you to create a permutation of cards suited to your gameplay. You could balance out the very defensive earth element with the very offensive fire element. Or you could bolster your survivability by adding the life element that allows you to heal damage to your health bar. The difference that Magic the Gathering players will pick up is that there is no barrier between your health bar and the damage you get from the opponents monsters and/or spells as well as the fact that you cannot subsitute one type of mana for another when summoning. You can play cards that postpone damage or reduce it but you cannot stop it, making an average game about 5-10 minutes long. I still keep finding little nuances and tricks when I play it and it makes the game all the more richer and intricate. With over 100 cards its easy to make a deck that plays uniquely.
The game penalises your score for losing and is fairly hard to master so consider resetting your deck every now and then until you find that winning combination. The best part? It's absolutely free of cost. There is an option to donate via paypal to keep the game afloat but contributing is up to you. The maker of the game doesnt really stress on it too much. You should definitely give it a go at http://www.elementsthegame.com.

These games are by far nothing compared to the behemoths churned out by the likes of EA and Rockstar, however their endearing presence and odd quirky nature appeal to a certain form of gamer. Some might say it appeals to 'Oldies' or people living in the past. I beg to differ. Games have always been about playing them rather than gawking at the 'realistic' imitation of life.

Not much of a game without some play isn't it?

Oh Glasgow, my Glasgow

Glasgow.

What can I say? It's a bittersweet city. A city that, if it was a person, would be a person with mild schizophrenia. Having lived in Glasgow for a bit, I can only relate the oddities and virtues that stood out to me.

Pigeons. Nearly everywhere else I've been, pigeons have been like jittery neurose ridden things that would fly away if you looked at them wrong. In Glasgow, you can walk around George Square and pigeons have the right of way. They will look at you with blood red eyes, chip dangling from the mouth like a Bogartesque cigarette, asking you what your problem is. They only fly away if you try to jump on them. Probably saying "Whit yae daen, ya fanny!?"

Seagulls. The size of decently sized microwaves tip to tip flying in the sky, squawking threats against the food you are holding, little dogs and your life (In that order). I will admit I orchestrated a strategic retreat from a fallen hamburger which was set upon by these flying Grim Reapers. I felt a deep sadness for the hamburger, being ripped bun to bun by the gulls.

Glasgow, like most cities, is divided by areas. Namely the center, north, west, east and south. Each area has it's own distinctive flavour of resident who is the predominant shade in which the respective area is painted.

The West End, Bohemian students flitting about making trips to the supermarkets for bits of food and gallons of liquids, forever rolling herbal cigarettes. Affluence is present in the West End like a rash.

There's the East side used to be the domain of wealthy merchants and businessmen until they started shifting towards the West End, following the trail of money. Now it's like the poorer cousin of the West End, after being mugged blind by capitalism and promises of grandeur.

Then there's the South side. You can see so many chiselled, weathered faces in the South that you might think that the words "gruff" and "tough" were coined there. The average age is around 40 and its a part of town you can feel intimidated yet safe. Oh, it has a forest called Queens Park right in the middle.

I admit I don't know much about the North side. As far as I am concerned it's a dark no man's land devoid of human life. The two things that are there in some degree of plenty are colleges and Car dealerships. All in all, a bit like New York (from the movie Escape from New York).

Then there is the City Centre. Cosmopolitan, Cool and ...well, full of something else with a C. The Centre is where most visiting Londoners will confine themselves to when "oot on de toon". While entertaining nonetheless, the misconception about widespread violence in Glasgow is often a myth perpetuated by sporadic drunken fisticuffs and blatant rumour mongering. Glasgow's more intimidating than violent at best (Although, violence is exceptionally brutal when it occurs).

Speaking of violence, one is bound to mention Neds. No, not a collection of Ned Flanders. Neds are an abbreviation for "Non-Educated Delinquents". Glasgow's version of the British Chav. They often speak in a dialect that isn't quite intelligible. It's not quite Glaswegian as it is a mish mash of words that only they can understand. They also function quite like small mammals, being as they can only display strength in numbers. The moment you make a threatening move or display a show of strength they scatter.

I often get asked, "why Glasgow?" when I tell people I could have gone to New Zealand (land of the lord of the rings) or Cardiff (Welsh capital of ..... don't really know much) or the bustling life of London. I often wonder "why not?"

I love the pace of this city. It flows well, and I never feel homesick. I'd like to think of Glasgow as my city now, even though I wasn't born here. D'yaknowhaaymeen?

Urban Language.

While most of us have occasionally dipped into UrbanDictionary.com and found ourselves some classic terms that describe nearly everything, Some of these terms are beyond the normal scope of the world while some are just convenient rearrangements.

Still, they contain merit. And for that very reason I'm going to paste a few of my favourite to know (if not say) in the post. So, In alphabetical order:

America: A country that claims the name of an entire continent to itself alone for no compelling reason.

Awkward Turtle: When you're in an awkward moment, place your hands on top of each other, and spin your thumbs forward. Thus creating the creature know as awkward turtle.

Beer Summit: The meeting of President Obama and any parties for which an injustice has occurred. This meeting must take place in the White House and be broadcast throughout the media.

Dudevorce: When two male best friends officially end their friendship over a lame disagreement, usually concerning a girl.

Facebook Alzheimer's: When you get a friend's request from someone that you have no idea where you know them from. The worst part is you have mutual friends from work and school! You post messages on each other's wall and they never know you have no clue as to how you know them.

Facebrag: To use Facebook as a platform to brag. Normally about a job, internship, trip, purchase or anything else that nobody really needs to know but you'd like to tell everyone because you're awesome.

Hiking in Appalachia: To have an extramarital affair. Stems from the disappearance and subsequent reappearance of South Carolina Governor, Mark Sanford(R). Gov. Sanford was thought to be hiking in Appalachia. In actuality, he was having an affair in the South American country of Argentina. (this one made me laugh for a while)

Parking Karma: The uncanny ability to find an open parking space in a desirable location of a busy parking lot.

Problem Saturation: A process by which Mainstream Media addresses an issue incessantly, building up to a sense of pending doom. Of course, the problem, while worrisome, does not pose the grave threat they would like you to believe. Finally, MSM abandons coverage of the problem completely, moving on to another problem.

Running Latte: showing up late to work because you stopped for coffee along the way.

Sarah Palin Effect: The principal that expertise on a certain subject can be gained through geographical proximity to it, i.e. Palin's knowledge on foreign affairs with Russia on account of Alaska being geographically close.

Weenis: The loose skin on your elbow.

Writer's Crap: Derived from 'writer's cramp', writer's crap refers to a stage when one is only capable of writing utter crap. (I think I'm suffering from this now)

Zinedine Zidane: The only thing Brazil is afraid of.

Opposites.

Opposites attract. I find that to be the most inane drivel ever spoken by a human being. Why? Apart from the romantic notions and blithering ideals of love, opposites create unnecessary friction, and ultimately some form of spousal abuse.

Naysayers might go on as to quote many an example to me but it doesn't make sense to me. I was recently talking to C and realised how much we had in common. Like a near telepathic link to what the other was thinking.

This, of course, stems not from some supernatural force but more a common understanding. The romanticised notion that is "opposites attract" is just a bit flawed.

It may be the case that you are attracted to someone who is your opposite in most terms. Your attraction would almost be based on a subconscious form of envy, i.e. you see a quality they have that you like. It's rather simple. It's got appeal because by being with said opposite you somehow feed off that facet of their personality. It gets boring after a while.

Yes, shoot me. I said boring. I will not go into analogies or fall into becoming a twisted agony aunt on relationships. The point is that the term "opposites attract" is a dangerous concept - it's too absolute in its form.

Social science and "the mystery method", in my opinion, are two really deluded forms of human endeavours. While I will give Social Sciences a higher credo, because it is not focused on this aspect of human courting and has to do with a wider scale of human social interaction, The mystery method is a simply mind bending mish mash of survival of the fittest and nascent psychology which caters to a hollow, mentally bankrupt society.

It assumes that a woman is passive and the man must initiate contact as well as the ultimate aim of all human relationships is to procreate. I see the ones amongst you who like disagreeing with things thinking "oh? yes, but isn't it?" It's not. Anyone who simplifies it to that is just looking for it.

But get a load of this. Adam Lyons, a 'dating' coach, has simplified the human courtship process into a simple, easy to understand formula.

(Comfort - Rapport) + Qualification + Sexual Escalation = Attraction.

The thing is that both of these endeavours to understand human courtship fail because there are too many bits and factors that are unpredictable. It's nigh impossible to measure it or confine it within methods and theories.

While I am no purveyor of the truth, I do understand that people are more inclined towards similarities as well as complementary differences. Opposites can only do one thing - be wildly attracted to each other and then crash into themselves.

Please, leave this thing alone to remain a mystery.

After all, as said Oscar Wilde:

"The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death."