#oneaday, Day 105: Under the Hammer - One (1) Self

I've discovered at great, great cost over the years that one should really value oneself more. Because if you don't value yourself, then it's going to be very difficult for other people to do the same, too.

Take me. I don't value myself, even though I know that others do. Because I don't value myself, I don't value my own opinions. I don't think my own opinions are worth listening to. When I post my opinions online in the form of this blog, that's fine. I can put my ideas out there and if people like them, great. If people want to talk about them, great. If people don't like them, that's fine too. If I don't want to deal with a violent disagreement with something I've put (not that I think that's ever happened) I can just hide. I can delete the comment. I can keep out of trouble, in short.

When dealing with people face-to-face, though, it's a different matter. If someone's standing right in front of you and you say something objectionable, there's no hiding. There's no deleting their response. You just have to deal with it. Now, there have only been a couple of times in my life where I've said something and I didn't like what the other person said in response. In all those cases, I know I was the one in the right, but it didn't make it any easier to hear negativity coming from the other party. And that's what makes me afraid to say things sometimes. I start to think that the other person won't want to listen to what I've got to say, that it's not valid somehow, that it's not worth saying. And then I start to think about all the possible responses the other person might come out with. And I assume they're going to come out with the worst possible response. And not wanting to deal with that worst possible response makes me not want to say anything in the first place. It's a vicious cycle that's difficult to break.

Having such a low opinion of yourself is, as you can probably imagine, semi-to-very crippling when it comes to dealing with society at large. Take our Neanderthal friend from the other day, for example. Although I know he's a complete dick for insulting a random stranger, his words cut deep because I was already thinking pretty poorly of myself, and to discover that other people whom I don't know have immediately judged me on the same criteria is just horrible. I was so upset by his remarks that I cut a walk into town short and came straight home.

"Man up," you may say. "Grow a pair." But it's not that simple. It's not about being confident or "masculine" or anything like that. It's about believing in yourself to such a degree that stupid insults can just bounce off you and that you can say whatever you please with confidence, knowing that it's your opinion and while not everyone else may agree with it, you have just as much right to say it as the next person. It's not about arrogance and believing that you're always right. It's about feeling that you are able to say those things without feeling embarrassed or self-conscious. And it's about being able to respond to things that other people say – both positive and negative – without feeling choked inside.

If there's one thing that recent events have taught me, it's that I need to value myself more, and believe that the things I say are worth listening to. It's not easy, though. When you've spent as long thinking as badly of yourself as I have, it's difficult to break that habit.

#oneaday, Day 104: Silence is...

I've been back home visiting my folks for the past couple of days. They read this, so don't be expecting any uncomplimentary remarks, not that I'd do that anyway!

It's been quite some time since I've been home. Even longer since my brother and I were both here. Since he was in the country this weekend, I took the opportunity to catch up with my whole family at once. My immediate family, anyway.

It's always odd coming back to your childhood stomping grounds. There's always something different to how you remember it, whether it's a new housing development that never used to be there, the fact that your childhood home now has double-glazed windows (despite past insistences that would never happen) or the cars across the road being a different colour. Changes are always particularly striking when you've been away for a while.

The biggest change since I grew up here is probably the silence. I don't know if it's the fact the cat is no longer with us, the fact that the aforementioned double-glazing keeps the noise out quite well or simply that there's not been any music on the stereo while I've been here. But I've become so accustomed to living in a relatively noisy environment – living in a city centre, enjoying activities that make noise – that the silence here is strange. It feels like something's missing, like it should be filled with something,

But silence doesn't have to be filled. There's no need for noise all the time. Perhaps John Cage was on to something when he composed 4'33".

Funny where your mind wanders in the silence of the dead of night.

#oneaday, Day 102: Many Happy Returns

As you get older, some things become less and less sacred.

You realise the Tooth Fairy isn't real when you catch one of your parents sneaking in to collect the tooth and drop off 20p. (It was the 80s. Kids in the class I used to teach get a quid now. Inflation at work!)

You realise Santa isn't real. (I don't remember how this happened.)

You realise the Easter Bunny isn't real.

You start to care less about "big" annual events like Christmas and Easter. Especially given that the shops start selling crap for each of them earlier and earlier each year.

In short, things start to matter less. But for me, one thing which will always be absolutely sacrosanct is one's birthday. Your birthday is a day when you should be immune to all harm, be it physical or mental. Of course, in reality it's a day just like any other, but to me, something always feels special about my birthday, and I always respect this feeling towards other people too. I feel particularly sorry for people who have bad things happen to them on their birthdays. I'd feel sorry for them anyway, but to me, having something terrible happen on your birthday just seems like kicking someone when they're down.

I'm also firmly in favour of people not having to work on their birthdays. Like a personal Bank Holiday, if you will. It's your day, it should be yours to do with as you please.

But unfortunately, the world doesn't quite work like that. Other people don't care that you're a year older. In fact, most people don't even know that you're a year older, as one of the things that ceases to happen as you get older is the wearing of badges to helpfully inform those around you that "I AM 6". And so when something doesn't go your way on your birthday it feels like an enormous injustice has taken place.

Fortunately, that hasn't happened today. It's been a pretty quiet one for me. I wrote a few articles, drank some coffee, ate some cake and then went to see some friends and try out new board game Mystery Express, a Murder on the Orient Express-style deduction game. We didn't get time to finish the whole game before some people had to leave and head bedwards (the perils of having a regular day job) but we got a good grasp of the rules and it seems like an interesting game. I'm looking forward to giving it a proper try sometime when we have a bit more time to spare.

So, I'm 29. So far it doesn't feel that different. I wonder if next year will feel different. 30 feels like it should be some sort of milestone, but at the moment I feel rather like I'm drifting and haven't found my true path yet. Well, as it stands, I have 364 days left to get that sorted. That's doable, right?

#oneaday, Day 101: You're A Bigoted Nazi And I Hate You, You Twat

Election news, and this happened today:

Yes, for those of you who haven't been on the Internet at all today, Gordon Brown made a somewhat embarrassing gaffe when he inadvertently left his microphone on after a televised interview with a voter from Rochdale. Voter in question, one Gillian Duffy, was somewhat outspoken about her opinions, having been a Labour voter all her life, and raised a concern over the number of Eastern European immigrants coming into the country. It wasn't quite a full-on "they're coming over here, stealing our jobs" Daily Mail rant, but Gordon clearly thought it could potentially get into that sort of territory, looking visibly uncomfortable as he attempted to reassure her.

Then, when leaving the scene, his microphone was left switched on, allowing the general public to hear him pronounce the meeting as a "disaster" to his aides. He noted that they "should never have put [him] with that woman" and demanded to know "whose idea was that?"

When questioned on what she said that offended him so, his response was "Oh, everything… she's just a sort of bigoted woman who said she used to be Labour, I mean, it's ridiculous."

Now let's give Gordon a bit of credit here. He's showing himself to be a human. This is something of a rarity. Who hasn't had a good rant at colleagues after dealing with a particularly difficult customer? The difference here, of course, is that the rest of us don't have radio microphones. Nor are we under constant scrutiny from the press and public alike. The most we have to worry about is whether or not our boss is following us on Twitter. (If they are, block them now. Seriously. And don't even think about adding them on Facebook.)

Gordon is under this sort of scrutiny. He was under this sort of scrutiny even when he wasn't on the election campaign trail. Which means that within moments of it happening, news was all over the Internet. It's been said a number of times before that the fact this is the first election where social networking is going to be a big deal. This incident, and the speed with which it spread from Twitter to Facebook and back again many times over, just goes to show how much power the Internet is going to have over the end result of the election. Couple this with the various campaigns in support of underdog Nick Clegg of the LibDems on Facebook and things aren't looking too rosy for our PM.

The worrying thing about this situation is that it's allowing parties with more extreme views such as the BNP to gain more support. Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP, claimed in his controversial (and Marmite-smeared) election broadcast that the BNP is the "fastest growing party in Britain". This may well be an exaggeration (and probably is) but the big issue for a lot of people at this election is immigration. A lot of people feel rather strongly about it, to say the least. A lot of people are becoming more outspoken about their views. And a lot of people are starting to sympathise with the BNP's views. When they see damning evidence that the "main" parties don't appear to be paying attention to the things that matter to them, that's when they start to look elsewhere. And hearing your views dismissed as being "bigoted" by the Prime Minister certainly isn't going to make you feel like voting for a party you've been loyal to your whole life.

I'm no fan of the Daily Mail "Britain is FULL!" line and I don't particularly agree with Gillian Duffy's statements. But it's her right as a voter to share those views with the prospective candidates and question them on what their plans to do something about them are. It's part of being an informed voter. This election is actually interesting people for once, so voters have every right to make an informed choice. What Gordon should have done – and in fact, what Gordon has said he was going to do – was engage with the woman's opinions and open a debate. Part of being a politician is dealing with people who hold differing viewpoints to you. These viewpoints might be a little bit different, or they might be completely diametrically opposed to yours. The masters of their art can engage with these viewpoints and disagree with them in such a way which doesn't leave the other person feeling like a complete dick. I can only imagine how mortified Gillian Duffy must have felt when she discovered what had been said about her.

Fortunately, we don't have to imagine. Ever-resourceful and keen to potentially get a shot of someone either getting angry or starting crying, reporters on the scene decided to share the PM's gaffe with Duffy. This was her reaction:

Needless to say, the PM has lost the respect of one voter. Plus the millions of people who have retweeted and shared these videos all day. Plus the millions of people who don't "do" social networking but have watched over the shoulders of partners and spouses. Plus anyone who watched the news today.

Brown's defensiveness and unwillingness to engage with someone who disagreed with his views may well have cost him dear. Whatever you may think of Duffy's comments on the subject of immigration, they're pretty mild when compared with some of the things that BNP supporters come out with. Was calling her "bigoted" really necessary?

#oneaday, Day 100!

And there it is. With little fanfare, just after midnight on the day before my birthday, I hit the big 100. That's one hundred days of continuous blogging. And, while some older entries have now been set to private for reasons I won't go into, I have 100 posts all lined up one after the other showing me… well, nothing really. Nothing apart from the fact that I can keep up a commitment I set to myself to do something that I enjoy and is of at least marginal benefit to me.

Blogging is cathartic. At least to me. Some people focus their blogs on one particular narrow subject and make that specialist subject the only thing they talk about. I've toyed with that idea for some time – this being me we're talking about, video games are a big part of that, but that's not the only interesting thing that goes on in the world. In limiting myself to talking about one thing and one thing only, I'd be limiting my potential audience, even if the company I mostly keep online are largely video game enthusiasts themselves, too.

One thing I have enjoyed about writing these #oneaday posts is the opportunity to write something a bit different. Some days it'll just be a personal comment, like today. Other days I'll do a write-up on a particular issue. Other days I'll post photos. Looking at the stats, though, it's sometimes difficult to see patterns. The best day recently (with a mighty 90 views) was the day I responded to Roger Ebert's "games will never be art" assertion (after midnight) and later that day (after actually sleeping) posted some pictures with the iPhone Hipstamatic app. The Ebert issue was a hot topic, so it's unsurprising that saw a big spike. I had a similar pattern when I posted about Kevin Smith's experience with SouthWest Air, another hot topic of discussion around the Internet.

So I guess if I'm chasing page views, hot topics are the way forward. Well, duh.

But I'm not going for page views, really. I mean, it's always gratifying to know that people are reading what I'm writing (and even better, responding in the comments) but when I write these things, I'm doing it for me. Keeping it daily like this is like keeping a diary, something I've done several times in the past. I always used to greatly enjoy keeping a diary but always, without fail, ended up writing something so utterly mortifyingly embarrassing in it that I'd end up throwing the book out in case anyone ever saw it. I actually regret that now, as lame as the things I wrote were (usually involving chicks) as if there's one thing I always enjoy doing, it's reading back over past things I've written.

Over the last couple of days, I've been re-reading this blog from the beginning. It being a blog and not a novel, there's obviously not a sense of structure. But there is a curious sense of narrative, whether it's saying an open and heartfelt goodbye to the family pet, discussing my time with No-One Lives Forever (still a top search term to find this blog), exploring the stranger side of indie games or reviewing a local band. I remember these things happening, as small and inconsequential as they mostly are, because I wrote about them. We all have "big memories" of the life-shaping events that take place in our lives – good or bad. But the thing I'm truly appreciating about this whole exercise is that it gives me the opportunity to remember the little things, too, however little relevance they may hold to the "big picture".

If you've read anything at all on this blog before, you've shared in some of those memories. They may not seem significant to you. Some of them don't even seem significant to me. But thanks for letting me share all those things with you. I hope I've entertained, informed or at least given you something to do while you're bored. I've certainly enjoyed writing them – at no point has it ever felt like a chore. Which is, as they say, a Good Thing.

It figures that on a big milestone day like this one, I go off onto a completely dumb stream of consciousness ramble. There are many more days ahead of this one, each holding new memories ready to commit to a post. I'm looking forward, wondering what will come next.

Here's to the next 100. Good night.

#oneaday, Day 99: One Away

This is not me.

Tomorrow marks my centennial on the #oneaday train. That's pretty good going. I know some people are ahead of me already, but we should all celebrate each others' milestones. And the way I choose for you all to celebrate my own milestone is to buy me cake. Particularly as it's my birthday soon.

Anyway, cake aside, what I wanted to talk about today is exercise. I've managed, through some serious mental reconditioning that may or may not have involved an electric cattle prod, to get back into a gym routine. I've been every day for the last few days. That may sound like a lot to some, but the last time I jumped in with this intensity it had a noticeably positive impact on my body. I felt better and I looked better. I mean sure, I was still a tubby bitch, to quote Mr Kevin Smith, but slightly less so than before. Then various things happened, I left my job which was conveniently five minutes' walk away from the gym, got depressed, ate too much, took on a job that was so far away from where I lived that by the time I got home of an evening I wasn't able to get to the gym before it closed and finally quit that job. Clear? No? Never mind.

Now that I'm in that weird sort of "uhhh… what now?" phase without having a full-time job, I have plenty of time to get to the gym. Even on days when I do have some work, I've managed to get home, have a quick rest, maybe a quick blast on WoW and then head out to the gym before dinner. This time around, I feel like I've made much quicker progress than before. The day before yesterday I managed a 10-minute non-stop run on the treadmill, which I can't normally do. I can't do it consistently yet, as I need to be full of energy to pull it off, but it's getting there. And I can do 5 minutes non-stop without too much difficulty now.

Experimented a little with some free weights today. Rhiarti has said she's going to give me some suggestions for a Geek Workout using weights rather than machines. The machines are all well and good, but apparently the free weights actually work more muscles because you have to support the big lump of metal you're lifting as well as, you know, lifting it. And certainly after I tried a few bits and pieces I'd looked up online today, my muscles felt like they'd had a much more solid workout than if I'd used machines for equivalent exercises. The side-effect of all this, too, is that I feel rather more positive about my body image. I know there's no way that my shape would have changed over the course of less than a week, but I feel better about myself. I think it's just taking the positive step to do something about it that makes me feel better. I have a lot of work to do, but I feel like I've got into a good rhythm now. Let's hope I can keep it up.

No idea whether I'll be working tomorrow yet. The irritating thing about supply teaching is that you have to get up super-early for no guarantee of work on most days. But even if there's no work, I have some articles to write and some potentially paid freelancing gigs to chase up, so it's not as if I'll be short of things to do. I also applied for three jobs today, so hopefully something will come of one of those. Though going on past experiences with my saying "hopefully something will come of one of those", I fear it will be unlikely I'll hear back from them ever, my application lost in the Netherstorm for all eternity.

It's time for bed. Before midnight! Good job, me.

Also, to the shouting drunken morons outside my front room window, kindly jump in the Solent.

#oneaday, Day 98: Have You Heard...

It's always a pleasure to find something entertaining and new to enjoy. A little while back, I discovered Kevin Smith's podcast, or SModcast as he calls it. I'd been following Smith on Twitter for some time. He tweets a lot, and the fact that he makes all his replies public irritates some people, but I've always found him extremely entertaining. He's not afraid to speak his mind, at least, not on the Internet, as he claims he'd be a "pussy" in real life. I can identify with that. I speak my mind on the Internet too, but I sometimes find it difficult to do so face-to-face.

His podcast is such an entertaining listen because it has almost nothing in the way of structure. It's a simple case of him and at least one other person sitting down and chewing the fat (no pun intended) about something or other, usually something that's happened that week either in the news, or to the people involved personally. The talk is always spattered with absolute filth (even more so since his sponsorship deal with male sex toy maker Fleshlight) but it never seems to degenerate into total nonsense, despite Smith's love of sparking up a doobie in mid-recording. There's always a point, however much they may get off it throughout the course of their discussions.

The thing I love the most about the SModcast, though, is that it's like sitting down with Smith and Mosier (or whoever is sitting in for him) and enjoying a thoroughly silly chat with them. You know, the sort of chats you have with your friends late at night when the drinks have been flowing and the "party" atmosphere has died down a bit. The kind of conversation that usually starts with "You know, I found out the weirdest thing today…" and generally meanders throughout diverse topics, including complete nonsense, without really settling anywhere for some time. The kind of conversation that easily falls into fits of the giggles. And Smith often gets the giggles, big time. I think I enjoy his giggle fits more because his laugh reminds me a lot of an old friend from school that I unfortunately haven't seen for a long time now.

SModcast breaks every rule about what should be a "good" podcast, except for the "you should be regular" one. Smith and his team make sure there's something for fans to listen to regularly. Each one may be completely different in terms of subject matter (but it's a fair bet that there will be at least some mention of jerking off or anal sex in there) but they're always entertaining. And they're not always filthy, too. A couple of episodes a month or two back involved Smith talking to his mother and reminiscing about the "good old days". Smith isn't afraid to be a pottymouth in front of his mother, but the stories they told, despite their relative mundanity, were extremely compelling and interesting. Smith is nothing if not a good storyteller.

So if you want something interesting to listen to in the car or at the gym and don't mind a bit of filth creeping in here and there (yeah… it's totally not for kids) then you could certainly do far worse than show a fat man some support. Head over to SModcast.com and have a listen.

#oneaday, Day 96: Another Day, Another #oneaday

Well, since everyone else seems to be doing it (well, by "everyone" I mean Chris Schilling and Rhiarti) I guess it's time for a post on the subject of #oneaday itself.

Numbers have been dwindling since the project began. Right now we're down to just a few people. As Chris says on his post today (or more accurately, yesterday, since – oh look, it's 2AM) it would probably be generous to say that there are ten writers still thanklessly scribbling away for no discernible reward save a sense of self-satisfaction. And, of course, the happy smiley comments that people post when they see something they particularly like.

When I first started blogging a few years back – I had several attempts prior to settling on this particular little corner of the web – I felt that it was a fairly "solitary" experience. I mean, sure, you have the comments section. But not everyone bothers to comment. And that's fine in this instance – as I've said several times, I'm writing for me here. Thinking out loud, if you will. If you, the person reading this right now, happen to enjoy it, so much the better.

What #oneaday has taught me, though, is that blogging doesn't have to be that solitary experience. It can very much be a social experience where writers can group together, take ideas from one another and discuss the things that they have written about. As the #oneaday collective has become smaller and smaller, it's become closer and closer. When the project first started, I didn't have time to read through the fairly daunting list of daily-updated blogs. It's easy to feel overwhelmed by continually updated content, particularly when it comes from a large number of sources. But now, I feel that I can easily get through the people who are still working hard on their blogs. I can read their posts, digest the content, post a comment, check back for comments later in case I sparked a discussion, and then do the same with the next site. And the next one. And the next one.

Since we've started talking to each other more, there's a lot more in the way of discussion and reposting on Twitter, too, potentially opening our respective audiences up to more people. Again, as I say, it's not about huge audience figures – but it's always nice for any writer to know that what they're posting is being read and appreciated by others. So if you're reading this, thanks. You're pretty great, you know that?

The biggest thing it's done for all of us, though, is give us the opportunity to express ourselves regularly, along with teaching us all some pretty rigorous self-discipline. Churning out a post a day which has to be nothing more than a paragraph if we can't be bothered may not sound like much, but it's a big deal for any writer to be able to conscientiously get on with doing what they do every single day. So a public congratulations to those who are still beavering away like me, and a welcoming hand to those who are contemplating joining us. Mr Kokoris, I'm looking at you.

And no, it's not compulsory for you to write posts at 2AM. I've just sort of fallen into the habit. Whoops.

On that note, I am yawning my head off. Good night!

#oneaday, Day 95: Round 2! Fight!

The second round of the Leaders' Debate happened tonight on Sky News. This means we had an annoying news ticker running across the bottom of the screen all the way through, accompanied by occasional references to make us wish "God, I wish I was watching this in HD". There is no need for HD in a Leaders' Debate. Unless you really like watching people sweat.

It was what happened afterwards that was quite interesting, though. Sky immediately pronounced David Cameron the "winner" of the debate, according to the YouGov/Sun poll. Now, I'm immediately suspicious about this as the Sun is hardly the most objective point of reference when it comes to politics, particularly around election time. But my suspicions were further confirmed when, looking at various other polls on different websites, results varied enormously. One site put Nick Clegg at a 65% majority. Twitter was overwhelmingly pro-LibDem once again. Another site put the three potential leaders much closer to one another.

Conclusions to draw from this, then? Polls are utterly meaningless if there's more than one asking the same question, because you're going to get vastly different answers according to the audience. One could even question whether the election itself is truly representative of public opinion, given our typically low turnout at the polling station on the big day. And then there's our bizarre "first past the post" system, which means that it's actually extremely difficult for the LibDems to achieve a majority, even if most of the country were to turn yellow overnight. Political reform is high on the agenda for all three parties, and this is one thing I think will be looked at for next time around. Proportional representation is the buzzword. I remember reading about that during A-Level Sociology and while I can't quite recall what it actually means right now (and, it being late, can't quite be bothered to look it up), I'm pretty sure it's rather more fair than the odd system we have right now.

The real winner of the debate, as already mentioned, was Twitter. Twitter, during any sort of "big" event (and I use the term loosely, since last year The Apprentice became a "big" event on Twitter) explodes with discussion and jokes. It's where the "public" thing about Twitter really comes into its own. Anyone and everyone can post, and anyone and everyone can read what everyone else said. Everyone from my humble self to "them off the telly" like Charlie Brooker, Simon Pegg and numerous others were all at it. And while the volume of tweets was so high it was impossible to read them all and stay sane, it provided an interesting snapshot of how people were reacting to everything, on a real-time basis. Gaffes the politicians made were caught immediately – "every time I go to Afghanistan I get blown away" being my particular favourite – and several people took it upon themselves to count how many times they attempted a lame joke (often), a successful joke (rare) or a flirtation with an attractive audience member (a clear victory for Clegg).

The other entertaining thing about today was the front-page article from the Daily Mail accusing Clegg of a "Nazi" slur. The reason for this? This article from 2002 (yes, 2002), in which Clegg, then an MEP, hit out at the misplaced sense of British self-satisfaction, when Germany, having been beaten down from not one but two World Wars, had achieved rather more significant financial and cultural success than we have. I happen to agree with him. Does that mean I'm making Nazi slurs too? The Mail didn't even seem particularly clear on what they were accusing him of. Given that they had to go back eight years to find anything even vaguely controversial to dig up, they're clearly more than a bit desperate.

The LibDems have balls, I have to give them that. After the Mail's accusation, a political blog and a Lib Dem councillor allegedly seeded the Twitter hashtag #nickcleggsfault, where anyone and everyone would have the opportunity to blame Nick Clegg for something that clearly wasn't his fault. It's a joke that could have so easily backfired, but Twitter, itself overwhelmingly LibDem at present, took it to heart and has spent the whole day "blaming" Clegg for everything from the unpronouncable, unspellable Icelandic volcano that has brought so much irritation to air travellers, to John Romero's Daikatana. (I may have had something to do with that last one.)

This is the first time the election has felt like it "mattered". Thirteen years of Labour has turned a lot of people into cynics, which would explain the nation's poor turnouts at the last few elections. But hopefully, with all the buzz surrounding this one thanks to Twitter, Facebook, blogs and other means of online social networking, this may well be a year we start to see some big changes in British politics. And, as lovely as those beautiful old buildings down in Westminster are, what goes on inside them is in serious need of a big kick in the arse.

It's probably pretty clear from all this that I will be voting yellow all the way. I'm not saying you should, too. But you should at least vote. It would be heartening to know that the nation actually gives a shit about something more important than bloody football for once.

#oneaday, Day 94: Year 7, Years Later

Times change, especially when it comes to kids. As new parents inevitably say at some point or another, "they grow up so fast". One minute they're a mewling, puking, shitting machine that whinges and moans about everything. Then they move out of their teenage years and leave home.

I jest. Actually, no I don't, really.

I spent today doing supply teaching work for a local school. A local secondary school, to be as specific as I'm going to get in this post. As far as days at school go, I've had worse. Largely because I knew I was leaving at 3pm and that I was only there for a day, which meant that even if it was a nightmarish experience, I was going to escape pretty quickly anyway. This meant I could take a fairly relaxed attitude to the whole day and not get wound up by children who obviously do their very best to drive their teachers nuts at every opportunity. Water off a duck's back. It was a new feeling. I liked it.

What I didn't like so much was the discovery that Year 7 are into hardcore pornography, and aren't shy talking about it in rather loud voices in the middle of a music lesson.

Now, I may have led a somewhat sheltered existence being a rural, country village boy, but I don't think I even knew what "hardcore pornography" meant when I was in year 7. As I recall, most of my conversations in Year 7 revolved around whether the Sega Mega Drive or the Super NES was the best, and whether it was pronounced "Rye-oo" or "Ree-oo". Much like today, in fact. The most anything even vaguely sex-related came into conversation was if someone fancied someone else – and even then, it was never talked about in terms of sex, just in terms of an Alan Partridge-esque "ooh, I'd like to… kiss her". Oh, and there was the one time someone put a condom over a shower head in the boys' PE changing rooms and turned the water on. We were all delighted to discover that said prophylactic would reach all the way down to the floor if you kept filling it with water.

But no porn. At least, no-one talked about it, anyway.

Part of the reason for this shift in the, ahh, "interests" of 11-year olds is clearly due to the Internet. Most of the discussion that these kids were having (and ignoring requests to please shut up about it, I might add) revolved around the sites that they liked to visit. There was no shame in this discussion, no taking the piss out of each other that "urrgh, you're doing that so you can have a wank!" – just pure, unadulterated filth. From 11-year olds.

Now, all right, the area that the school in is, shall we say, not the best. But I was still pretty surprised and shocked to hear these sorts of things come out of the mouths of 11-year olds.

The regular teachers at this school seemingly weren't, however. "Miss says this class is sex-mad, sir. Sex-mad! Sex sex sex," one helpful young man informed me. I wasn't arguing.

The moral of this story, dear readers, is clear, then. If you're a parent, then for God's sake take an interest in what your kids are doing on the Internet. Talk to them about what is and isn't appropriate for them. By all means talk to them about offensive content and what they should do if they come across it (get your mind out of the gutter) but don't just leave them to their own devices. From that springs porn-addicted, shit-talking, ill-informed arseholes who will inevitably grow up to become /b/. And do you really want to create an entire generation of /b/?