On mediocrity as a crippling vice.

My contribution to this blog has been wayward. Nay, it's been fucking dire, let us not beat around the e-bush here, for even a second. However, reading the words of a brother can be rousing and truely inspirational. Young Robert - you have a masterful command of HM's English. And it's within this framework that I will attempt to document a few of the goings on in my sexy little world.

And so quickly am I confronted with blankness and blind spots. Have I too not been living a life? Certainly not one of an active, virile 21 year old, my dearest bloggy-wog. This is a feeling that has haunted my every waking moment in these, my preceding months on God's green. Did you ever get the fear? The fear that life is tick-tocking away, passing you by so fast it makes your balding little head spin. It's fleeting, like those sought-after waking moments, you know the ones; before you wake up and remember who you are and how little you have to offer. Unlike Less Than Jake, all my best friends have jobs. Pesky fecking metal heads they ain't! Did no one leave a fat chunk of the pie for this cat?

Back on the surface though, I'm really alright. Sometimes, I think over-analysis and inward-centricity (such are the perils of the e-blogger, however made up the language may be) are my only real enemies. Hand to hand, I'm perfectly equipped to battle them. I have wonderful friends and family, a startlingly fantastic girlfriend, a promising local band (chortle) and a degree that I slightly care about. I think the real problem is hidden, and not so subtly, in this little list. The item that comes in last (in only a very vague order of preference) just so happens to take up all of my time. This is where one finds oneself wanting in the tasty tasty pie stakes. When this is over, will I get to enjoy what I've been blessed with? Or do I, like my esteemed colleague, find myself facing yet another dead end?

Call us whiny, but I think we've got a fucking point. Obviously, it could be so much worse. I don't ever, for even a moment, not realise this. Such is the guilt, in fact, that confronts me for even thinking about feeling this way. But maybe, just maybe, there's something worth worrying about? But hey fuck it! Everything will be okay right? I guess I just wasn't made for these times? Oh woe is me, put a fucking sock in it Brian.

Perhaps it's all just a bit of a mixed bag, just like my buddy Rivers, who I knew was right all a-fucking-long, puts it:

We are the angels, and we are the ones that are praying.

Forgive me my vices.

J x

p.s. I promise to experience something worth writing about soon. I promise to you but, foremost, I promise to myself.

Narrative.

One problem that I pondered whilst starting this blog was the fact that my life really isn’t that interesting per se. I am dull. I did not feel this was a major dilemma as I felt I could use this space to leave a record of someone remarkably mediocre; the trials and tribulations of being just another NI number.

However, over the last week some semi interesting shit has occurred in my life.

Last Wednesday I went to see a Rival Schools reunion show at KCLSU. It was a solid good time they played all the ‘hits’ off the album including ‘Undercovers On’, my personal favourite. The new jams sounded pretty good too. Plus a ‘How Soon Is Now?’ cover. Walter sings Morrissey. They didn’t totally blow me away as such, but it was incredible to feel sixteen again for 80 minutes. I also feel like the spooky kids at Download got a little something they didn’t deserve, know what I mean?

Anyway the morning after, before I left for work, I noticed my car had been broken into. I say broken into, but I must have left it open as the door was a jar with no signs of forced entry. They also didn’t actually take anything either - the only way I realized this had happened is that all the cubbyholes, the glovebox and the sun visors were open. They left all my CD’s and G’s Wu Tang and Ice Cube joints too (surely these thugged out cuts would appeal to hoodlums). Plus my FM transmitter was on the floor, again not taken. This seriously wigged me out. The idea of someone going through my property outside my manor and then deciding it wasn’t worth the bother. They also never touched Poppa D’s fat rat wheels or Lil Bro’s car which had his system still inside. Lucked Out. Still some crack head would have got a shock if he’d nicked Climate of Fear. The E.D is a mosh free zone. Still, I got off lucky I guess. Moral of the story: make sure your car is locked up tight.

Friday was also a semi interesting day as I took the day off from the grind and went to the smoke to hunt out some records. It was not as successful as previous hordes but got some cool pieces nonetheless. Highlights being Elliott Smith – New Moon double CD for real cheap – BNWT- and PGMG’s All Medicated Geniuses 7” single for a couple of nuggets. I also picked up a copy of On the Road to read.

You're not punk, and I'm telling everyone.

Save your breath, I never was one.

You don't know what I'm all about.

Like killing cops and reading Kerouac.

The evening saw me take in my first ever game of county Twenty20 cricket action at the County Ground. I haven’t been inside the CG since the last Town match some 15 years ago. I used to get my knee stuck in a floodlight pillar in the Hotel End pretty much every week. Good Times. The Steelbacks won, fairly convincingly in the end. They bowled Worcs all out too. Monty was fucking dire though. Dude was shocking out in the field. The crowd was odd. It was either middle aged business types,a few holloaks types plus those super sporty kids you get at school. You know the ones that are Stato on every sport. I also missed 5 overs getting my old man a birthday beer… and they didn’t even have any cokes for me. I was not amused.

The rest of my weekend was entirely uneventful.

I’ll drop some more pearls re: the exciting events of last few days if can be bothered soon.

R

P.S- Being a good citizen I waited for the UK release of The Red Album so that HMRC could take their slice of VAT. I also got the deluxe edition with 6 extra cuts and sweet sleeve notes. Sike! H Boy. Sike! Full opinions to come… needless to say it sounds pretty big first couple of spins. =W=

I AM THE GREATEST MAN THAT EVER LIVED

Baiting the Public

I was going to write post a blog discussing Britain’s Got Talent**… then this came up.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7442327.stm

This news item has reverberated around my grey matter since I heard it on Sunday. While I in no way condone or celebrate the murder of the seven innocent civilians in a most horrific manner, a part of me cannot help be intrigued.

Now, before I get lambasted for being a sick fuck, I just think that its amazing that this man was that ‘tired of life’ the rage he felt overcame his rationality. It makes me look like a fucking poser.

Its no great secret that I have lost most of my faith in humanity and that part of me would like to distribute some kind of vengeful terror against all the people who have wronged me (or just scumbags in general), but the voice of reason in my head has always stopped me… not even stopped me as such… it has never been a consideration.

So it fascinates me that this dude was either that fucked that he has no voice of reason, or that the weight of the world has eroded that voice and made him indiscriminately kill. I mean, I thought I was having a shit few weeks - shit talking paranoia, a job I don’t really like consuming my life, feelings of emptiness and the future looking bleak yadda yadda sub-par Dawson's Creek - but still just going ape was never considered. I’ve got too much to lose (my health, family, bros, the C.R.E.A.M.).

Apparently, the pressure and intolerance of difference in Japanese culture can leave many people severely ostracised. I assume this affected Tomohiro.

All of this makes me feel a little more normal and grateful that I still have the voice of reason in my head. It also makes me thankful that however out of step I feel, My anger has never pushed me this far.

Positive Outlook? Nah.

Still, if I went on the rampage in the Weston Favell Shopping Centre I’d probably take down a few drug dealers, child abusers and scumbags that made me feel like shit in school (they're most probably drug dealers or child abusers too).

R x

**If you really need it explaining to you why that programme is bullshit then you’re just as bad as that arseclown fucking around in the water.

Just another manic Monday

At risk of sounding like a broken record (oh the great British cliche, how I love thee), I am going to talk briefly about the new Weezer album, which I've listened to now about 4 times since receiving a copy on Saturday. Some brief bullet points will suffice for now:

• Some of the songs are the best things Rivers has written since 1997. Cases in point: The Greatest Man That Ever Lived, Pork and Beans, The Angel and The One
• The bracketed title of The Greatest Man That Ever Lived is (Variations on a Shaker Hymn). The Red Album should have the bracketed title (Variations on a Weezer Record). By this I mean, it is incredibly inconsistent. Songs by Brian and Pat sound great, but in context, particularly with the majestic turn Rivers' songwriting takes on the record, don't seem to fit.
• A lot of the songs seem to be about how awesome Rivers is. This is brilliant and valid subject matter.
• Some of the songs are wonderfully ridiculous. Case in point: Everbody Get Dangerous
• However, this is at the expense of that window into Rivers' soul that we all miss so much. Red is an album with a front - shrouded in ironic bravado and intended idiocy it does not relive the highs of Weezer of old.
• Regardless, it's Weezer you fool. A super fun listen that doesn't even warrant all this stupid over-analyis rubbish what i've just done. Sorry.

In other news, the European Championships are off to a lukewarm start with the noticeable absence of the home nations. I'd enjoy seeing the Dutch or the Spanish to do well but, as usual, I think they'll probably fall short. Portugal play too much like Arsenal. The only competition winners in it seem to be France and Italy, and maybe Germany. I guess we'll see how it goes.

I have to drive back to Norwich this afternoon, in the space of which my opinion on the aforementioned Weezer rekkid will probably change. Boo fucking hoo.

J x

On Weezer's power to bring life...

Face up!

So here I sit, on return from a week away in the South West with the in-laws, trying desperately not to retreat into the depression brought about by the pile of wank that is my dissertation. Oh my, what a mouth-full.

This is my first blog on here. I'm not really sure of its purpose or quality, but it feels cathartic already. Sometimes it's nice just to sit down and have a think kids - turn off the TV and put a record on. It might just save your sexy little minds.

So my life-partner, Nicola, bought me a special gift! It's a pre-order of the new Weezer record, their sixth full length to date, that came with a super-rad clear red vinyl. I've got it on for the first time right now and I'm trying my best to reserve judgement, but something about it is terribly soothing. I've observed mixed opinion over the last month, but doesn't everything just feel right when Weezer plug in? I'd like to write a full review of it but I'm not sure I'm qualified - as you can tell, Rob and I are Weezer-nuts. But hey, write about what you know right? Give me a few more spins and I'll record my thoughts.

Dear diary, dear readers, dear Rob? I'm Joe and I'm 21.

Everybody get dangerous.

J x

The ego trip begins...

Kick It!

The way it is: This is a blog done by me and my main man Joe. Pretty simple.

I’m not quite sure what my contribution to this will be other than rants and giving people a slice of my real world view. I guess H Boy will be putting up some music reviews and other pieces demonstrating his exceptional command of the English language…this will be in contrast to my poorly written hateful diatribes and “Yeeaaahh Booyyyyyyys”.

I’m really not sure who, if anybody, will read this because we don’t really have a butt load of friends (well I don’t) and I know most of mine are sick of my opinions and perceived negativity (reality). Ohwell, maybe I’ll use this as a confessional to purge my soul. Read at your own discretion.

A couple of other points…

"The Greatest Man That Ever Lived” is a magnificent jam by the band Weezer… If you don’t like Weezer you’re not my friend.

“I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times” is off Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys. Joe digs them a shit tonne, as do I, and I think the title of this cut aptly describes the way I see things. Double Bubble.


R