#oneaday, Day 324: Humbug

It's easy to be cynical about Christmas these days, given that it starts in mid-September and proceeds to get increasingly more present in the months leading up to December until it is eventually omnipresent. (Happy, Mr Hussick?) By the time it actually arrives, people are so thoroughly sick of the whole "Christmas" thing that they just want it over and done with for another few months until the whole thing starts over again.

It's not like that for everyone, of course. I doubt that the kids out there are as cynical about Christmas. I certainly wasn't when I was a kid; Christmas was a time to be excited. There was a different atmosphere about the whole day, and not just the tangible excitement over getting presents or eating copious amounts of turkey dinner. It felt like a special day when nothing could possibly go wrong, when it would be impossible for Bad Things of any description to happen.

I haven't felt like that for years now. I forget the last time I felt that way, but I'm pretty sure it was back in my childhood. Perhaps there's more to be said for the belief in Santa Claus than people give credit for. It doesn't help that the last few Christmases I've had were pretty underwhelming at best and downright unpleasant at worst. The Christmas that I had to work over and then spent the best part of Christmas week lying in bed alone suffering with a strong bout of flu—proper flu, the "can't get up because your whole body aches too much" flu—was a particular lowlight, but the events of the past year haven't made me particularly feel like celebrating anything at any point.

I am spending this Christmas abroad, though, away from this cold, grey, depressing land. I'll be over in the States, where I'll be spending most of the time with my family, including my brother, his wife and his kids, whom I haven't seen for some time. I saw John earlier this year, but it's still been a while. I'll also be spending at least one weekend with my very good friend Mr Chris Whittington, former host of the Squadron of Shame SquadCast, and hopefully we'll get the chance to put together a special seasonal/end-of-year show for everyone to enjoy. Then we can kick 2010's ass out the door and let it rot in the gutter like it deserves to.

I seem to recall having similar thoughts at the beginning of this year; that 2009 had been, on the whole, shitty for most people involved including myself, and many of us started 2010 with hope for the future. I can say with some confidence right now that I'm just happy to get to the end of each day at the moment. Any time I've had a bit of long-term hope for the future, what with job interviews for positions I'd give my right arm for, those hopes have ended up being dashed for one reason or another. So right now it appears to be something of a case of taking each day as it comes and hoping something good eventually happens.

Not a great way to do things, but little else I can do right now. So you'll forgive me if I'm not exactly full of festive cheer.

#oneaday, Day 323: A Little Balance On The Gaming Issue, Please

An hour ago, the BBC aired an episode of Panorama, our go-to investigative journalism programme, on the subject of video games. The subject, predictably, was the ever-present "are video games addictive?" question that has been raised and not answered many, many times prior to now.

The programme made a few fair points that are more common sense than anything else. Firstly, those with addictive personalities are prone to becoming addicted to games. Many games have in-built reward mechanics which those who get easily addicted to things will… well, get addicted to. Social games like Farmville, MMOs like World of Warcraft and popular multiplayer titles like Call of Duty all take great pains to ensure a regular stream of rewards and gratification being sent in the player's general direction. Whether it's a "medal", a "completed quest" or simple experience points, there's a constant flow of something that leads the player to believe they're achieving something. Those who become addicted to things easily can use that as a justification.

Secondly, the programme pointed out that parental controls need to be used more effectively. Many children and teenagers are given free reign on their use of video games and as such don't limit themselves on how much to play, to the exclusion of other things. Parents need to get better-informed about the facilities available to them to control their children's playing habits. This is, sadly, something that many parents are very resistant to, despite the fact that the tools are there for use, particularly on the Xbox, which offers some of the most robust family controls that there are—as does the Mac, oddly enough.

There were no concrete conclusions drawn, however. The "conclusion", if you can call it that, was that more research was needed from an independent body.

The thing is, this discussion has been going on for decades now, and no-one has thought to actually do that research in an appropriately investigative and non-biased manner.

I was reading through a few Formspring answers from Leigh Alexander (I think) the other day and she made the very good point that those of us out there who write about games can't be called "journalists" in the same sense as those who write for, say, national newspapers on breaking stories. Our role as members of the games press involves reporting on carefully-disseminated information provided by PR companies, critiquing products on general release (occasionally before general release) and sometimes interviewing a developer from the industry. There's no real "investigation" there, there's no hard-hitting stuff. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but given that mainstream media tends to come down on the more negative side of the fence when investigating gaming, I think there's certainly scope for a counter-argument: someone who does know the industry well investigating the burning issues. And investigating them thoroughly using established journalistic, sociological research techniques.

Who's going to be the first person to step up and do that, though? More to the point, would anyone read it or take it seriously? Gamers, by their very nature, are defensive creatures, having been made out to be "the bad guys" by the mainstream media once too often. And those not "in the know" are often inclined to have their minds made up by sensationalist stories in the aforementioned mainstream media.

What we need is balance. What we need is a hero.

Wait, what?

#oneaday, Day 322: Chinese Whispers

Goodness me. Thank you to everyone who read yesterday's post, including the unprecedented 602 of you who showed up today. Whether or not you agreed with the sentiments therein (and whether or not you were polite about it), thanks for reading.

There have been some interesting developments in the whole thing over the last 24 hours or so. On the whole, the whole thing can actually be said to have had a positive outcome, though not quite through the means the originators of the meme intended.

In fact, the originators of the meme had nothing to do with the NSPCC, as predicted. Fellow blogger, Commodore 64 enthusiast and all-round fine, upstanding gentleman Glen McNamee did a bit of research on the issue and uncovered the fact that the whole thing had actually originated in two separate places in November as a bit of fun, with no charity links whatsoever. Read Glen's blog post about it here.

Dave Gorman also wrote an excellent post on how this sort of thing can undermine genuine fundraising attempts with honourable intentions. Also worth a read.

The interesting thing about all this, though, is the whole "Chinese Whispers" nature of it. By looking at people who had changed their avatar/status throughout the course of the day, you could see the gradual evolution of the whole thing. To start with, it was a "campaign to end child abuse". Then it was a "campaign by the NSPCC to end child abuse". And by the time people like me had written posts on the topic pointing out the flaws in the whole plan, people were taking great pains to explain that as well as changing their avatar, they had, in fact, donated, too. There were also a few people who were up-front about the whole thing and said they changed their avatar purely because they thought the cartoon characters were cool. Fair play to both parties; at least you're being honest. There was also a considerable proportion of people around Facebook who tried to convince everyone that the whole thing was a scam by a bunch of paedophiles aiming to lure children in with cartoon avatars. This last part is bollocks, by the way, in case you were worried.

So on the whole, the whole thing had a positive outcome. It provoked discussion (or rather, argument) and had the net result of shaming at least a few people into tossing a few quid the NSPCC's way, which I'm sure they're very grateful for, though they probably wouldn't have chosen to go about promoting it by people yelling at one another.

The thing is, though, couldn't the whole thing have been resolved without the need for drawn-out arguments in the middle of it? Probably. It's ironic; Web 2.0 is full of narcissism and vanity, but is also a breeding ground for sheep mentality. Some people copy and paste things or blindly follow instructions without considering the implications. Think before you post!

Let's leave it at that. The matter's over and done with. Resolved. Until everyone forgets about it and it happens all over again. When that does happen, just remember that famous and rather offensive comment about arguments on the Internet and the Paralympics.

Also, don't be a dick.

#oneaday, Day 321: Charities Have No Use For Your Avatar

Are you morally-conscious? Feel like you should be doing more to help your fellow man, but feeling a bit strapped for cash at the moment? Don't feel like putting together some sort of fund-raising event because, after all, it is a bit cold outside and it might snow.

Never fear! Web 2.0 is here to allow you to assuage your guilt without any need for financial or time outlay! All you need to do is change your profile picture and/or status to something vaguely related to the charity that you would like to support and that counts as you having Done Your Bit when it comes to Judgement Day. Me? I like the Cats Protection League, so I shall be donning a LOLcats avatar for the day.

Grumble, moan etc. I know. And I have a sneaking suspicion I may have mentioned this before.

The above piece of sarcasm is proudly sponsored by today's Facebook and Twitter campaign to get as many people as possible to change their avatars to their favourite cartoon characters of the 80s or 90s. This, apparently, counts as you "joining the fight against child abuse", and has been attributed to the NSPCC by several people. Go look at the NSPCC front page right now. Do you see any mention of any campaign "not to see a human face on Facebook until Monday, December 6th"?

No. I certainly don't. Probably because it actually has nothing to do with the NSPCC whatsoever, and probably because the NSPCC would rather you got off your arse and either did something to raise money for them or just reached into your pocket and sent them a tenner.

"Donating" your Facebook status or a tweet means nothing. And the "it's just a bit of fun" defence is bollocks, too; there are plenty of people out there who feel like changing their avatar (a task which takes, ooh, a minute at most?) and/or copy-pasting a status is absolutely "doing their bit" and absolves them of any sense of responsibility, putting them on the same level as someone who has diligently, say, organised a sponsored run, bake sale, 48 hour Desert Bus marathon, three-week charity wankathon, whatever. It doesn't.

This isn't a rant saying that everyone should donate to charity. I don't—at the moment I can't afford to. It's up to everyone whether they would like to support a charity that deals with an issue they feel strongly about. But "supporting" that charity means just that—supporting them and the work that they do. That means giving them some money, or some of your time, or just walking into one of their shops and buying a dodgy velvet jacket for a 70s night or something.

It doesn't mean changing your fucking avatar. How many people out there copy-pasted that status and changed their avatar and then felt all smug and self-righteous before going on to do other things, forgetting all about the fact that they hadn't actually donated any money to the charity in question, who probably had nothing to do with the campaign in the first place?

So don't let me stop you changing your avatars to your favourite cartoon characters. If you do, though, at least be honest about why you're doing so—perhaps you think Superted is awesome, in which case, say so and don't hide behind some kind of false altruism—or actually follow up what you're doing with a donation.

Rant over.

Actually, no it's not.

Girls, next time you feel tempted to post something that the "men won't get" in an attempt to "promote breast cancer awareness", realise that we all know what you're doing and would again much rather you just donate to a worthy cause like MacMillan, rather than supposedly "raising awareness" by being deliberately obtuse. How the fuck does that even work?

Rant over. For reals, yo. Take care of yourself. And each other.

#oneaday, Day 318: One Day in Gameland

In discussing Deadly… I mean DEADLY PREMONITION with a couple of others recently, we came to the conclusion that the universe of games has such a distinct logic, such a distinct culture, that you could probably write an entire treatise on the culture, physics, metaphysics and theology of Game-Land.

I will settle for one blog post.

When you wake up in the morning, any and all injuries, however serious, will be completely healed, unless you make your home in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, in which case you will either need to give yourself an injection in the affected limb or visit a doctor, who will be able to heal absolutely any injury and make you completely intact within a matter of minutes.
If there is food on a shelf, pick it up. No-one but you needs to eat.
By extension, eating food also heals injuries, unless you're in Greenvale.
If you're in Greenvale, no-one gives you a second glance if you're standing in the middle of the road chugging back a can of Hollandaise sauce followed by wolfing down a turkey sandwich which cost $75.
People only open doors if they absolutely have to and frequently just walk through them instead. This includes you. If you were planning on going outside, open the door, wait for 30 seconds, then step outside. Otherwise there will be nothing to walk into and you'll simply fall into the void, never to be heard from again.
You can survive approximately 1.5 point-blank shotgun blasts directly to your face without permanent disfigurement.
In fact, you can survive any injury without permanent disfigurement.
If something "really important" is about to happen, no-one will mind if you do something else—anything between popping out to shop for some groceries to going on holiday to the other side of the world. The "really important thing" will still be "about to happen" when you get back. Enjoy yourself for a while.
After completing a repetitive task such as stuffing envelopes or chopping onions, you will notice yourself getting noticeably better at said task at increasingly-longer but predictable intervals.
Chop 200 onions in a row without hurting yourself for a special prize!
Sometimes when you talk to people you will have to read something they've written on a piece of semi-transparent plastic while they flail their arms around like a Thunderbird.
Occasionally, people will sound like they are speaking Japanese at you, but the semi-transparent piece of plastic will have English writing on it.
All shops you visit will sell exactly four items in an extremely niche category, but will purchase anything you have in your pockets/backpack/suitcase/on the back of your pack mule.
On that note, you will own a backpack which is capable of holding twenty suits of armour, four hundred weapons of different varieties and up to 99 bottles of each and every liquid you find. This backpack is invisible.
You will never, ever need to go to the toilet, even if you have drunk all 99 bottles of one particular liquid, unless 1) you feel like you are being forced by a giant green diamond above your head to do things in your own home that you probably would have done anyway, 2) your son has been kidnapped or 3) you know, or are about to come into contact with, someone whose son has been kidnapped.
Anything red will heal all your injuries if you imbibe it somehow.
Anything blue will make you less tired if you imbibe it somehow.
People with long white hair are always evil, even if they seem to be quite nice chaps.
People with short white hair are often sullen, but good people.
People with spiky hair or who are bald are probably on the way to save the world, especially if they are carrying a sword and/or a gun. Be nice to them.
Be careful when stacking shelves: lining up three or more of the same thing in a row always causes them to disappear. Stack tins of soup in a checkerboard pattern to prevent this from happening.
Pick up every flower, bird feather, human-looking bone or flag that you see: there will be someone somewhere in your neighbourhood who will give you "something good" if you bring them enough.
Having a conversation with someone doesn't require any actual interaction on your part. Just bump into them and they'll tell you something about the nearby caves, forest and/or the local big corporation.
Talking to yourself is absolutely fine. You may either do this by voicing your internal monologue, especially when looking closely at inanimate objects, or keeping a semi-transparent piece of plastic and a marker pen in your invisible backpack at all times.

Sounds like a simple life, doesn't it? Ah, if only we could apply game logic to the real world sometimes…

#oneaday, Day 317: Snow Joke

First up: DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE TITLE IT'S CLEVER AND FUNNY AND BUGGROFF

Ahem. Anyway. It has been snowing. It being winter, it thankfully hasn't caused anywhere near as much panic as the last time it snowed, when it was headline news pretty much 24/7. Granted, it did snow quite a lot, though I got the impression that Canada and Scandinavia and, err, other places it snows a lot were laughing at us quite a bit for our complete incapability to deal with a bit of the white stuff.

Snow is a mixed bag. Some people love it, others hate it. As with most things, though, there are good and bad things to it.

Bad: cold.

Good: pretty.

Bad: wet.

Good: inspires creativity.

Bad: receiving a snowball.

Good: sending a snowball.

Bad: walking when dressed inappropriately.

Good: walking when dressed appropriately.

Bad: driving.

Good: not being able to drive and getting a day off work.

You get the picture.

It actually snows here in the UK—at least in places where I've been living—rather less than you might think, with whole years going by sometimes without a trace of the cold stuff. Even so, it always astonishes me quite how surprised people seem to be when there is even the slightest bit of snowfall. It inspires panic buying and the importing of grit. Grit! The stuff you find on the ground. Yeah. Ridiculous.

I just went out for a run in the snow. It's cold, snowy and icy. It is also difficult to run in, though I found that after about ten minutes or so, I didn't feel it any more. This was perhaps due in part to the number of layers I was wearing (which probably also contributed to my relatively slow speed tonight) but also due to actually being active. Or perhaps I was just so frostbitten all my extremities had fallen off.

I have one particularly enduring memory of the snow from my childhood: out in the garden with my brother and some of his friends, carving a lovingly-crafted likeness of Arnie from snow. This lovingly-crafted likeness of Arnie was wearing a jock strap which was lovingly carved with a little bit too much care and attention, as I recall, but the finished product looked awesome. There are probably some photos floating around somewhere, but this was the days long before the Internet, let alone Facebook, so you won't find those pictures anywhere online.

Most recently, my experiences with snow have been negative. Driving in the snow is particularly unpleasant. I recall one night I was driving home from the school I worked at at the time—a trip which normally took about 50 minutes—and it took six hours. Six hours. At least one of those hours was spent in a genuinely terrifying position halfway up a steep hill with traffic in front and behind, praying to God that my brakes worked properly.

Right now, though, I can look out of the window at the thin white covering on the street and admire its pleasantness. All the more so having just been out in it.

Doesn't stop it being bloody freezing even inside, though. Wrap up warm.

#oneaday, Day 315: Mad, Bad, Sad, Glad Men

I started watching Mad Men recently thanks to the generous loan of the Season One and Two DVDs from my old school friend and fine, upstanding gentleman Mr Andy Plummer, with whom I met up with for the first time in nearly ten years recently. Of the last two times I saw Mr Andy Plummer, the first involved the pair of us, drunk as skunks, consuming a pound of Tesco Value Mild Cheddar cheese between us at about 3 o'clock in the morning. No bread, no crackers, just cheese. It seemed like a fantastic thing to do at the time. The second time involved someone (I forget exactly who, though I know for certain it wasn't me) vomiting copiously out of a mutual friend's bedroom window onto the corrugated plastic roof of their student house's conservatory. The next morning involved dangling a mop out of the window and attempting to remove the… actually, this is completely beside the point, not to mention disgusting so I shall leave the rest to your imagination.

Anyway, Mad Men. I didn't know anything about it prior to watching it save that it was set in the 60s, featured the delectable and hefty-bosomed Christina Hendricks and involved a character named Don Draper. Beyond that, I just know that a lot of people whose opinion I trust and respect were going crazy over it, so I figured I probably ought to check it out.

I'm glad I did. I'm taking my time getting through the series as it's the sort of show that you have to pay attention to. The characters featured, while mostly obnoxious, chauvinistic pigs, are all individual and interesting, and you end up liking them against your better judgement. Or if not "liking", then at least being interested in seeing what happens to them next. Draper, in particular, has a lot of baggage which may go some distance to explaining why he is the way he is.

The upshot of the characters being such arses all the time is that when one of them does show some humanity and vulnerability, it's extremely affecting. Towards the end of the first season (trying to avoid spoilers here for those who intend to watch it), one character takes very ill, for example, and the fact he's shown to be a human being with real emotions as he faces his own mortality is a deeply affecting, poignant moment.

One of the best things about the show is its casual acceptance that it is the 1960s and Life Was Different Then. Characters drink and smoke to excess without a second thought. No-one has ever heard of "drunk driving", or if they have then no-one cares. Parents get their kids to mix their cocktails. Disciplining children through the medium of giving them a good hiding is accepted and even, in some cases, encouraged. And there are constant references to events that really happened throughout the time period. But it never feels like the show is ramming "IT'S 1960!!" down your throat—it feels like a natural, organic setting and after a few episodes of culture shock, you're right there with them. Just make sure you come out again afterwards.

If I could level a criticism at the show it's that I'm not sure where it's "going". It's very character-driven and there doesn't appear to be much of an overarching "plot" as such. This is fine, as I'm a fan of character-driven material, and the developments through which even minor characters in the show go are fascinating, entertaining, often amusing or tragic to watch. I've certainly found myself flip-flopping back and forth on a number of characters, thinking they were arrogant, greasy, disgusting assholes one minute and figures to be pitied the next.

Where it'll all end, I have no idea. But I'm certainly enjoying the ride so far.

#oneaday, Day 312: Quest Complete: C25K

I've been somewhat short of what one might call "victories" recently. In fact, most of my endeavours for the last I-don't-know-how-long-now have ended in what could politely be called failure. As such, I've been in a bit of a funk recently, getting very tired of… well, everything, really.

So when an actual, genuine, bona fide victory-slash-achievement rears its head, by golly I'm going to celebrate it.

Tonight I completed the nine week Couch 2 5K running programme, introduced to me by one Mr Calin Grajko, who is a really cool guy and, I have it on good authority, doesn't afraid of anything. I've mentioned this a few times previously, but for those of you who can't be bothered to look back a few entries, have joined me recently or who are having trouble finding exactly what you want using the search box (which is fine by me), let me explain.

Over the course of nine weeks, you go from being someone who "can't run" to someone who, well, can. The first week begins with you running for a minute at a time, then walking for 90 seconds, then repeating this process several times. Each week ups the ante somewhat until you reach the final week when, in theory, you should be able to run for 30 minutes at a time without stopping.

When I started the programme, I seriously doubted that I'd ever be able to do more than a couple of minutes at a time. I deliberately hadn't looked at what horrors the end of the programme had to offer because I figured the system shock would just put me off and demotivate me. So it was a genuine surprise each week to find out what I'd be doing. It was a big surprise in the last few weeks when the jumps started getting bigger.

But I'm pleased to announce that I can now run for 30 minutes without stopping. It's not easy, sure, and I'm not quite at that elusive 5K distance just yet (not far off, though—my best distance in 30 minutes is 2.99 miles, just under the 3.1 miles that roughly equates to a 5K) but I figure I can get there with a bit more training. Tonight, I felt a noticeable increase in my speed, for example, though that disappeared with the hilly bits towards the end of tonight's run.

The important thing with any exercise regime is motivation, and making sure you keep this motivation flowing in both the short and long term. By "short term", I mean "while you're doing your exercise", and by "long term" I mean "the duration of the programme and beyond".

Through this programme, I think I've got both of those things pretty comfortably sorted. The long-term motivation is handled nicely by the programme itself—making constant, regular, measurable progress is motivation in and of itself. Plus telling friends that you've completed week whatever-it-is is something you can genuinely take pride in, particularly if your friends are appreciative of what you've been trying to do.

The short-term motivation—keeping going while in the middle of a session—can be harder. If you run out of energy, you run out of energy. Part of this is about pacing yourself, but it's also about not getting too bored of what you're doing as well.

As such, I have made sure to have some banging playlists on my iPhone while out on my running sessions, matched reasonably well-ish with the timings of each session. Me being me, these songs have mostly fallen into the video game soundtrack category. Conveniently, though, the generally regular tempo and "inspiring" nature of a lot of game music makes it entirely appropriate for use in exercising. So without further pontificating on the philosophy of exercise (there are plenty of people out there who can comment on it with much more authority than I) I will share with you my playlist for tonight's run. iPhone users, tap the song titles to play the tunes. Everyone else, you should have a fancy-pants Flash player to play each song with.

Warm-Up: The Elite (from Split/Second)

The Split/Second soundtrack was a fixture on my playlists. For the first few weeks, my playlist consisted solely of the Split/Second soundtrack. Because it's awesome. And free. But this song in particular was an excellent warm-up track because it builds up a bit at a time. There's also a spooky bit in the middle with jangly guitars that is great when you're going out at night-time. During this piece, I was doing my 5-minute walk as a warmup for the main event.

Get Ready: Operation Briefing (from Trauma Center: Second Opinion)

The sole reason this song is in there is so that the woman on the GetRunning app which gives verbal coaching for the C25K programme has something unnecessarily dramatic to talk over while she's briefing you about how long you'll be running for. Timing the start of playback perfectly will mean that you start running with the next piece, which is…

Go!: Friend (from Bayonetta)

If you've never played Bayonetta, know that it's a study in glorious excess. SPOILER: There is a bit where you ride a motorbike up a rocket into space in order to go and rescue the titular Bayonetta, who has gotten herself trapped in the crystalline eye of God, who happens to be a large female statue that is more than a bit pissed off. This music is from that bit. And it's awesome. It's also perfect music to get you pumped up and moving. The tempo is a good pace for running to.

Jenova Returns (from Final Fantasy VII, OCRemix album)

And so begins a set of Final Fantasy VII pieces, or more specifically some awesome remixes by the immensely talented community at OCRemix. When this piece gets all dramatic in the middle, I was just hitting my stride tonight. Which was good.

Beginning of the End (from Final Fantasy VII, OCRemix album)

This is one of my favourite pieces from FFVII. The original version always used to get my pulse racing as the final battle with Sephiroth began. Used at this point in the playlist, I was just starting to feel the proverbial "burn" a bit, and the overdramatic nature of it helped push me through.

Black Wing Metamorphosis (from Final Fantasy VII, OCRemix album)

This is a great, creative remix of the song that everyone knows from FFVII—the final boss theme, One Winged Angel. Bad-ass choirs and screaming guitars? That sounds like motivation to me.

Final Battle: Opportunity (from Skies of Arcadia)

You may be spotting something of a pattern with these pieces. Since it was my last run, I figured I'd make it something of an "occasion" with some ridiculously overdramatic music. The Skies of Arcadia final boss theme is neat because it starts ominous, threatening and dramatic and turns triumphant and victorious by the end. In-game, these changes happened according to how well the battle was going, so you could tell aurally when you were winning. Knowing this sent me subconscious signals that I was on the home straight.

Possibly.

Panic Attack (by Dream Theater)

I loved this song ever since I first encountered it in Rock Band 2, where it gave my fingers something of a workout. And cramp. It's also, like, deep and stuff, cause I can, like, totally relate to the lyrics and whatnot, yeah?

In an exercise sense, it's fast, gets the adrenaline flowing and has the line "rapid heartbeat pounding in my chest" in the middle of it. So it's, like, appropriate.

Of course, it also has the line "I am terrified, so afraid to die" in it. Which, depending on your fitness level, may also be appropriate.

Navras (from The Matrix Revolutions)

Ever since I first heard this piece, I thought it would be an awesome accompaniment to some sort of final battle. In fact, a variation on this piece called Neodämmerung is used in the final battle with Mr Smith in The Matrix Revolutions. This piece, to my mind, though, is superior and is only used in the end credits.

So why not have this piece as the grand finale to the nine-week push? Why not indeed. Conveniently, my 30 minutes were up just as it got to the slow bit in the middle, so I got to cool down to some trippy floaty ethnic-sounding warbling. Which was nice.

So, in summary, then? Keep your motivation up (possibly through the use of some banging tunes) and you can achieve whatever goal you want. I've achieved one, which is something of a relief after so many things that have gone wrong over the last couple of years.

Now, just another 50-something posts to go to achieve another goal…

#oneaday, Day 310: Don't Be Hatin'

Somehow I don't think that anyone who is reading this blog will fall into the category that I'm about to talk about, but I'll direct this at everyone generally just in case.

Have you used any kind of expression involving the word "haters" recently in a non-ironic sense? I have one simple request to you: stop it. You sound like an idiot.

I don't know who was the first person to decide that posting something along the lines of "I don't give a fuck about the haters" (or, more accurately, usually "i dont giv a fuk abt da haterz!!!") was a great idea and made them look Deep And Stuff™, but it's a plague on far too many people on the Internet, many of whom are clearly desperately wishing they were from a socioeconomic and/or ethnic group other than their own.

The latest person to come out with some such bullshit was none other than British Formula 1 racing driver, Lewis Hamilton, who earlier tweeted "To those of u who care, thanks for ur support, am on here for u. To all u haters…I jus don't give a fuck haha" [sic]. The tweet has since been removed, suggesting one of two possibilities: 1) McLaren got in touch and told Lewis to stop pretending to be 50 Cent (who tweets nonsense like that all the time, but inexplicably occasionally censors himself when he says "shit") or 2) the tweet wasn't by him in the first place. Either are entirely plausible.

But let's assume, for the sake of rantitude, that it actually was Hamilton. Twitter promptly exploded at the fact that a high-profile sports personality who normally came across as a nice, if rather boring, young man on television knows the "fuck" word. Some people even seemed to think that his "taking a stand" like this was somehow admirable. I thought it made him come across as a bit of a cock.

The thing is, in my experience, any time I've seen anyone coming out with the "screw u haterz" nonsense, they are desperately insecure and usually spoiling for a fight. Perhaps they like to post unpopular views, troll forums or simply act like a complete penis online. Never once have I come across someone who posts in full sentences and understands what punctuation is who has said "I don't give a fuck abt da haterz" or similar.

The knock-on effect of this is that it causes people like me, who put a lot of stock in the written word, to judge the people who say this sort of thing, perhaps unfairly. Nine times out of ten (I made that up) the people who post things in this manner online are white middle-class teenagers who desperately, desperately wish they were a street-smart hip-hop gangsta, yo, preferably packing a piece. (I feel extremely middle-class and very English just typing those words. Oh well. Fine by me.) Quite why they want to come across as a "thug" (their word) is beyond me.

So, then, consider it a warning. If you start talking about "haters" and your indifference towards them, I will judge you. And it will not be a favourable judgement.

And Lewis Hamilton? If that was you tweeting that nonsense, I now think you are a cock instead of simply a moderately boring person. Guess I'm a "hater". At least you don't give a fuck.

#oneaday, Day 309: One Of Those Days

Nearly everyone I've spoken to has had an absolutely terrible day today. If you are one of those people who has had a terrible day, I offer my sympathies, condolences, fistbumps, high fives, whattups, hugs, manly nipple tweaks or cock-punches (take your pick) and understand entirely if you're currently feeling a bit less-than-optimum.

Me, I'm right there with you. I too have had a pretty rubbish day. For starters, I had a job interview. That in itself is not, in fact, rubbish. It's something which should be celebrated and applauded, given the length of time I've been jobhunting without success. However, the fact that I drove 120 miles for said interview only to discover at the interview that the job in question was only likely to be for four or five hours a week? That was rather more irritating. Particularly as the interview itself was lengthy, stressful and presided over by one quite attractive and pleasant woman and one rather rude lady. I spent the whole day with bubbling bowels, and for what? Naff all, it seems.

I then had to drive 120 miles back home. Fortunately, I'd done the driving there last night, as I didn't fancy going there and back in one day. But, as luck would have it, tonight was National Traffic And Roadworks Appreciation Day, with everyone driving extra-slowly to admire the one set of roadworks on the M25, then the next set of roadworks on the M25, then the roadworks in the Hatfield Tunnel on the A1(M), then the roadworks about two miles further up on the A1(M). All told, it took somewhere in the region of A Very Long Time to get home, during which I was feeling very tired and a bit embittered at the fact I'd pretty much wasted a day I could have spent doing far better and/or more productive things.

Sadly, the surprises the day had to offer didn't end there, either. I knew that today I'd be hearing from another job—one that I was particularly enthusiastic about and very much looking forward to the possibility of doing—so I was prepared, but feeling reasonably confident after my interview and my contact with the employers in question. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Apparently I was near the top of the list, just not top of the list. Perhaps it was one of those situations where they just had to pick one person or the other. And, as luck would have it, it wasn't me.

In some senses, it's a bit of a lottery, applying for a job you really want. Because all the preparation in the world, all the confidence you exude in the interview, all the important buzzwords you try and drop into conversation, all the thought-provoking questions you provide; sometimes it just comes down to a simple choice. And sometimes that choice isn't going to favour you.

I just kind of think it's about time one of those choices did favour me, hmm?