More bioshock porn?

You know a dream is like a river,
Ever changing as it flows,
And a dreamer's just a vessel,
That must follow where it goes ..

This post follows in continuation of my last one. Someone got to this blog the other day by googling "bioshock eleanor porn".

Searching for "nude" at least suggests some artistic value, or something vaguely tasteful. "Porn" is somewhat less subtle. I'm guessing they've just discovered the shocking realisation of rule 34, and are now hunting for whatever pops into their heads.

Whatever the reason, you have too much time, or you're lonely.

Bioshock porn.

I could spend some happy hours,
just being there with you
It doesn't matter where you go,
As long as there is someone there you know ..

Apparently somebody got to this blog by google-searching "Bioshock 2 eleanor nude".

You're honestly searching for a naked game character, in this day and age? Lara Croft was just about acceptable, but Eleanor from Bioshock? Like, actually?

You horny nerds.

Rising fees

Turn around, and see the circles we spin,
Takin' our chances on where we begin,
Up above, the rain is falling on me,
Life is for living and living is free ..

The government has just announced that, despite hopes of a U-turn, tuition fees will increase to £6-9000 per year. This follows the announcement not too long ago expressing the governments aim for 55% of the population to go to university, which seems rather an ambitious goal now.

One of the most annoying things, and one which is making frequent appearances on facebook, is the portrayal of students by the government as being very ill-informed and lacking a grasp on how the new plan will pan out, which is an insult as well as being ironic; seeing as many can no longer afford university and their chance to learn and become better-informed is now gone.

The other kick in the tits was seeing Vince Cable's name on the list of MP's who approved.

As such, police are holding back heavy protests in Westminster; there's a vid on BBC news of police horses charging the crowds to disperse them. As the reporter himself says, images like these would seem more feasible in the miner strikes in the 80's. Tense stuff.

December happenings.

I remember it well, as if it was yesterday,
The day that I played John Lennon's guitar ..

Just thought I'd throw out some thoughts on recent happenings. I've become so encapsulated in dealing with all-things Germany related, I forget that things happen outside the bubble.

1. Will and Kate

Yep, we'll kick off with the upcoming marriage of Prince William and Kate Middleton. To echo the words of a friend, credit where it's due to young Will - she is quite a bit hotter than he is. I don't think he's a particularly bad-looking guy; he's certainly doing better than his father, yet his face still reminds me of a paralysed person, or someone with lockjaw. But, he can fly a helicopter.

Current estimates for the wedding put it between 30 and 40 million pounds, something that can only be beneficial for a country recovering from economic breakdown and suffering major cuts. Under the tuition fees proposal, you could send 5 or 6 people to university for the same price as this wedding.

2. World Cup country nominations

This one confused me initially. All of a sudden there were 1000 facebook status updates confessing a sudden hatred for Russia, followed by a swath of people asking where Qatar was. Amid hopes of "Russia has launched unprovoked nuclear attack on middle east", I was sorely disappointed to hear that it was football related.

Yep, Russia is apparently hosting World Cup 2018, followed by Qatar in 2022. The poor choice of country is just beyond me. Yeah, South Africa might have been pulled off without a hitch, but seriously, Russia? If Britain pulls any of its usual "british tourist abroad" stuff, there's gonna be a marked rise in the number of polonium 210 related deaths. Try a vuvezela there and you'll be shot.

To be followed by Qatar. The terrorists are gonna have a field day. But Western governments don't mind this, because Qatar, along with Saudi Arabia, are generally considered 'the good arabs'. Scores of British, American and European tourists in the middle east? I can hardly see a safety issue there. It's only a stones throw from Iran anyway, I'm sure they'll be happy to have us if things get nasty.

3. Korea

Ohh, we've had this one coming since the mid-50's. As a general rule, states that end prolonged, angry wars without any formal end make a habit of stoking the fire every few years. So in March, the Cheonan was sunk, and last week North Korea lobbed some artillery shells onto a South Korean island.

No-one can really work out why; some have speculated that its the first move of Kim Jong-Il's successor, to show how tough his country is, the fact notwithstanding that without Chinese aid, North Korea hasn't a leg to stand on. The tenseness of 2 countries braced for war is cut by a blast from a star-spangled bugle and a cry of "Quick! Overreact!" from the USA. Nothing says 'we are committed to peace and diplomacy' quite like the biggest motherfucking aircraft carrier in the entire world with its 200-strong fleet of fighter jets. Yeah, they're definitely all about peaceful discussion.

Truthfully I reckon that North Korea will almost definitely carry out further attacks of some sort, but they're probably aware that any reciprocal military response would cripple them beyond recovery. They so crazy.
____________

They're all the major things I guess. The other story is that Britain is having some snow, which is being compared by most people and news agencies as the sign of a coming apocalypse. And curiously, this year is one of the worst years on record! Weather of this calibre has never been seen before! Which has now become meaningless, as they say that every fucking year.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1: Max's review

Manchmal läuft es wie im Märchen,

wo's immer gut ausgeht,
wo alles eine Fügung hat
und man von Schicksal spricht ..

Let it be said from the outset that seeing this film in German didn't affect the viewing experience much.

______

Spoilers ahead
____________

So I reckon that this one was the darkest and scariest so far. It's strength comes from the fact that whoever wrote the screenplay has padded it out with so much from the books for fear of missing a minor detail that it feels nice and padded without overflowing. The downside to this is a lot of talking and moments that will probably make only an ounce of sense to all but die hard fans.

Back in the days of The Chamber of Secrets or even Prisoner of Azkaban, someone who'd maybe read half of the first book could go along and watch and be able to make sense. Not a chance with this one. There are so many moments full of vaguely irrelevant things that appear for all of 2 lines in the book.

So this 7th film sees Harry and co. skipping their final year of school to hunt down and destroy pieces of Voldemorts soul, or horcruxes for those of you not in the know. It opens with the bad guys having an evil meeting at Malfoys house, where a still noseless Voldemort ponders where Harry might be next. And Snapes story is different to all the other faceless death-eaters - he couldn't possibly actually be a good guy, could he?


And in a scene meant to be shocking, Voldemort kills some teacher we've never heard of or seen in any film before. Pretty outrageous.

To cut a long story short, Mad Eye Moody and co. break Harry out of Privet Drive, which starts off as a pretty cool "Ahhh, everybody is a clone of Harry" scene, which descends into something directed by Michael Bay.


Its pretty to look at, like Hagrid driving the giant motorbike the wrong way down a motorway being chased by a bunch of black clouds, but otherwise it just kind of shouts "Look! Special effects! Check out these explosions and cars spinning out of control!" Muggles probably get killed. Hedwig attacks some guys face and then gets blown up.



Following this is more irrelevant stuff. A criminally underused Bill Nighy turns up and gives Harry, Ron and Hermione stuff that Dumbledore left in his will. Ron's is the only interesting one. And then theres a good hour of the three of them teleporting to a variety of different forests and deserted landscapes, meeting people who inevitably cause trouble.


Basically, every building the three of them visit WILL get destroyed and people get injured. And gradually, they learn the story of the Deathly Hallows, which is told in the medium of stylised CG animation that could have been a complete film by Tim Burton. Works, though.

What with the Harry Potter franchise still clinging by its worn fingertips to the "these are family films" standpoint, theres inevitably the teenage love/falling out scenes. The blossoming romance between Harry and Ginny is explored for all of 2 minutes, and its pretty crap anyway. Ron gets angry at some point in one of the thousand forests they camp in and storms off. Harry and Hermione have a dance to some music that comes on the radio, in possibly the gayest montage of the entire series.

Harry ponders in a sweater made of pubes.

This part in the middle is actually where the film sags and you pray for someone else to die; this stuff is so contrived and repetitive. It feels occasionally as if the producers sat down after finishing the film and said "Ok, good effort guys, but I think we need more scenes showing teenage jealousy, insecurity and betrayal. Work it in wherever you can. When they're in a forest would be good."

And then Helena Bonham-Carter arrives, as the most awesomely big haired unhinged evil bitch ever to grace the screen. She is awesome, as ever.

The hotly anticipated Dumbledore/Voldemort love scene

Hmmmm. I guess the only other major thing is the Nazi-esque portrayal of the Ministry of Magic, churning out posters and propaganda calling for the rise of a racially pure society. I don't recall it being quite as explicit in the book, but it sort of works.

I sound pretty critical at some points here, but it is pretty enjoyable nonetheless. There's plenty of crazy handheld camera stuff, everybody plays their part well. The film, as with its predecessors, is flawed by the constraints of time; my prime example is the death eaters, who have complex back-stories and major roles in the book, but in the film universe are just faceless generic losers. Once again, die hard fans only. At one point, Hermione points out "Look, its Dolohov". Yeah, but it counts for jack-all here, Hermione. He is just a man with a beard.

And the other book-to-film problem is that the latter can give no explanations to minor characters thoughts and intentions. Again, easy to clear up in a novel with unlimited writing space. Visually, it just translates as "every single minor character who has ever appeared in the whole series must play some crucial role in Voldemorts downfall".


But generally good. Daniel Radcliffe expands his dramatic spectrum from "eyes fairly wide, teeth gritted, breathing heavily" and "shout at everyone about everything!" to include a few more alternatives. Ron remains funny, as ever. Every British actor worth mentioning appears. Hermione is pretty hot.

Run! Run like its a handheld camera!

____________

I give it 8 out of 10. I give Dobby 10 out of 10 for his brave stab at heroism. Heh, see what I did there? Stab. He dies. From being stabbed. With a big knife.


Stab.

_____________________________________________

[EDIT - 23rd December]

When Harry/Ron/Hermione wear the horcrux round their neck on the chain, they become angry! I wonder which other mildly successful fantasy film involving a crucial part of an evil dark lord worn round the neck on a chain which feeds off the wearer's fears and anger they might have ripped that from?

Yay Iraq

But of all these friends and lovers,
There is no one compares with you.
And these memories lose their meaning,
When I think of love as something new ..

Man, its been a while since I was on here.

I'm gonna kick off todays post with more happy news from Iraq. If you haven't heard, 52 have been killed after Iraqi security forces stormed a Catholic church in Baghdad where gunmen were holding people hostage. A statement on a militant website reported that the Iraqi Christians in the church would be "exterminated".

This quote, in the aftermath, comes from the Iraqi Security Chief (possibly the crappest job in the world), Abdul-Qadr al-Obeidi.

"We took a decision to launch a land offensive .."

It was hardly gonna be a beach assault was it?

".. and in addition an airdrop .."

An airdrop of what? Cluster bombs? IDIOT.

"because it was impossible to wait - the terrorists were planning to kill a large number of our brothers, the Christians who were at Mass."

So Christians are considered "brothers" now. Thats a new one.

He continues:

"So the operation was successfully done."

YOU KILLED 52 PEOPLE! Granted, you're in Iraq where you're more likely to die than anything else, but there must be a higher threshold of success than "52 dead"?! You are STUPID sir.

" .. All terrorists were killed."

SO WAS EVERYBODY GODDAMN ELSE!

".. And we now have other suspects in detention."

YES, THE ONES YOU DIDN'T MANAGE TO KILL AT THE TIME, PRESUMABLY!

But then, in his defence:

"Witnesses say they saw US troops on the ground and US military helicopters hovering above the scene, but the extent of their involvement is not yet clear."

Given their record, it was probably them. Especially after the 'rescue' of that aid worker Linda Norgrove last month. The one they rescued with a hand grenade.

Anyway, according to my stats I have readers in Iraq. I wonder what their take is.

Popes.

But it's just the price I pay,Destiny is calling me,
Open up my eager eyes ..
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside ..

So the Pope has come to the last day of his grand tour of England. I managed to find the BBC on my German TV this morning (it was a bit of a fluke because I can't find it again now, grr) and they were interviewing people who'd been chosen for his blessing and stuff. One lady said something like "Yes, he was quite holy and spiritual".

He was the Pope, dear.

As a general rule, pontification tends to work holiness and spirituality into your everyday resume.

Proficient with Powerpoint, Word, Excel and Pontification.

It must be cool but crap being the pope. Yeah, you get a popemobile and all expenses paid trips round the world, but the rest of the stuff must get a bit repetitive and contrived.

What are we doing today then? Oh, Mass. Just for a change. And tomorrow? Nuts, Mass again.

Wednesday we're having a funeral, your holiness.

Excellent! Anything else? Oh fuck, Mass afterwards ..

The shittest bit must be for the cardinals who have to watch all this in the knowledge that they failed to become nominated for Pope themselves. I like to think they're bitter about this fact. Maybe tactical voting plays a part in Vatican politics too.

Ah, shit, missed out on being Pope again! Now we have to wait another 10 years before new nominations! Wait .. if we vote for Ratzenberger over there we might be able to speed the whole thing up! Guy's getting pretty old, just gotta wait for some priest in Scotland or the States to touch a kid the wrong way, he dies of a stress induced heart attack and bingo, we're back on the scene!

Crafty buggers.

I don't know what the current Pope's take on forgiveness is though. We all know Jean Paul II forgave the guy who shot him, but Ratzy doesn't seem the same as that. Looking at his face sometimes, you'd reckon he'd at least hold a grudge.



what the fuck is wrong with the font on this post?

Max and Kat's Australian adventure, part II

Neon tiger,

There's a lot on your mind ..

And, in continuation of my last post, this is how the tour of Australia is envisioned to end. Sure, its a bit of a throwback to a mildly successful film by James Cameron in the 90's, but it just seemed to work.

The VW of the future.

It started with a low light,

Next thing I knew they ripped me from my bed,
And then they took my blood type,
It left a strange impression in my head ..

This ones for you, Katface. Our waterborne campervan, in which we will go round Australia.

Definitely.

God bless America

This is the world that we live in,
I can't take blame for two,
This is the world that we live in,
And maybe we'll make it through ..

I guess the title of this post is kind of two-fold. I suppose I'm a day late, but it's worth mentioning how odd it feels to be reminded of the events of yesterday 9 years ago. 9 years! I try and avoid bringing it up when these anniversaries come round, but the time thats passed really kinda struck me this year. I avoid talking about it because of the crappy 'terror-tourism' thats so often associated with it now.

Maybe it was brought on by something I saw on facebook earlier; at the click of a button, you can have the US flag and the words 'Never Forget' posted on your wall and the newsfeed of your friends. To me, bullshit like that is just sickening. Tasteless, number boosting crap. In the case that I saw: "I am the 866,633rd person to fly the flag in remembrance of 9/11. I hope at least 1 million will join me!"

Oh, and "No app install required". Brilliant; reminiscence is so easy these days.

I mentioned today on my year abroad blog some questionable cheese I bought yesterday which is kinda spoiling my sandwich. Normally, I'm not too fussy about budgety foods, but this one is among the worst. Still, I seem to have taken it better than this man from a trailer park in Kentucky - "A US man has killed himself after shooting dead five people, including his wife and stepdaughter, in an argument about his breakfast."

The gist seems to be that his eggs weren't hot enough. In my 3 years as a waiter, I've met some grumpy bastards. I had a woman who sent her meal back 3 times. But never have I met someone, nor have I myself felt the urge, if presented with bad food, to kill everyone vaguely associated with that mealtime.

My curiosity was piqued mainly by the headline. "Six dead after US breakfast killing spree in Kentucky". A breakfast killing spree? It would take a lot for me to be reduced to that. Dinnertime perhaps, when I was more awake and gave more of a shit about what I was eating, but in the morning? I can barely form a sentence in English at breakfast time, let alone aim well enough to kill 6 people. What a fuckhead.

Writing about that has got me thinking about the aforementioned woman who sent her meal back 3 times. Once, fair enough, twice just about acceptable, but three times? Thats placing a vast amount of trust in whoevers doing your cooking. Its a fair assumption that if you've fucked up the first two times, its not going to drastically improve after another shot at it. Thank god she didn't have a gun.

Not the one from Monty Python.

I ain't in no hurry, you go on,
And tell your friends I'm losing touch,
Fill their heads with rumours of impending doom,
It must be true ..

So since September 11th is coming round again and Pastor Terry Jones of Gainesville, Florida is set on making it National Burn a Qu'ran day, I thought I'd share my thoughts on his proposal.

If you were the head of an insignificant little church somewhere in Florida, how would you go about drawing attention to yourself. Fundraising, maybe? A door-to-door service, if pushed for ideas? No, I have a better idea. I'll declare war on Islam. I'll declare war on their holy book, and as a mark of respect for the victims of 9/11, I'll burn loads of copies of it. Ooh, and a facebook campaign wouldn't go amiss!

Pastor Jones: You're a fucking tossmonger extroardinaire.

I'm not religious. I don't read the bible. But I strongly doubt if there's a passage in there that justifies his latest idea. Granted, it's an excellent way of marketing his book, the subtly titled Islam is the Devil, but other than that, it's a bit of a crap move.

Sadly, under the first amendment of the US constitution, officials can't physically stop him. Freedom of speech or something. I support this, but I bet he'd be the first to speak out against the burning of bibles outside a mosque in the US somewhere.

He faces criticism from the White House, the US military and even the Pope, though its worth noting that these weird little American evangelical cliques rarely give a shit about what the Pope has to say. Its pretty much certain that this will push anti-american sentiment to new extremes, but this is ok because it's done in the name of the victims of September 11, and of good old American capitalism. If you have the backing of God and country, not even the terrorists can win.

His facial hair decisions are also one of the first causes for concern in my opinion.

Recent happenings

We are agents of the free,
I've had my fun and now its time to
Serve your conscience overseas ..

Ahhh, what with all the Germany goings on and rise in interest in the year abroad blog, I'd almost forgotten about this here set of ramblings. I said before that this would remain my portal for observation not related to Germany, but the fact of the matter is, because my tiny town is so out of the way, there isn't a great deal that I can report back without infringing on the other blog's subject material. There is no middle ground, sadly.

Where the mild things are will stay, naturally, and resume usual service when this year is up and Germany stops preying on my writing, but until then, expect the blogs title to live up to its name a little more: the entries on here and their frequency will be mild indeed.

'Appy birfday

To the dark dark seas
Comes the only whale,
Watching ships go by,
It's the day we try ..

On this day 661 years ago, 6000 Jews were killed after being accused of being the cause of the plague. Exactly 29 years ago today, the National Centres of Disease Control identify pneomcystis and Kaposi's sarcoma in people, symptoms of an immune disorder which we now know as AIDS.

7 years after that on this day, three fighter jets at the Ramstein airshow misjudge an aerial stunt and crash into the crowd, killing 75 and injuring 346. Yup, and exactly one year to the day before the USSR's miserable collapse, I was being born. The 28th of August has evidently been an uplifting day for centuries.

But, I share a birthday with Jack Black of Tenacious D fame, which pretty much makes everybody else dying and the collapse of decadent ideologies irrelevant, as that man is awesome. It's also coincidentally the same day that Martin Luther King made his '"I have a dream" speech, 47 years ago.

Cheers for all the birthday messages! x

Oh, and its Germany tomorrow.

Pimm's o'clock

Oh Won't you come on over,
Stop making a fool out of me ..
Oh why don't you come on over, Valerie?

Don't you just love the Pimms advert? You know, the one where all the people stroll together through the streets, each representing a different ingredient of a summer Pimm's? And the music, too. I'll save you time, it's The New Avengers by Laurie Johnson's London Big Band.

If I were in the advert, I don't know if I'd rather be Ice or Mint. What an advert. Its Pimm's o'clock.

Hollywood down the shitter

We can't return, we can only look
Behind from where we came,
And go round and round and round in the circle game ..

Why are there so many shit films coming out soon?

The trailers that keep popping up on TV do not bode well for Summer 2010. The one that tops the list is that one called Marmaduke, where Owen Wilson voices a poorly computer-animated great dane through what I can assume will be a brainless 2-hour long child-friendly feel-good shitstorm. Seriously, watch the trailer. It offers an explanation to Wilson's recent suicide attempt.

Next on the list is one that I've just seen a trailer for on Dave. It was called something gay, I think it was Diary of a Wimpy Kid (do correct me). It seemed to be in the family of crap American films about primary school kids who inexplicably possess experience and linguistic sharpness beyond their years.

And the last one is of course the excellent-looking Piranha 3D, which looks like a poorly executed excuse for a 3-dimensional tit-fest. How can you make a mess out of that? Oh yeah, add a healthy portion of angry flesheating fish. Man, it looks shite.

Back to the drawing board Hollywood. Inception, we salute you.

Would you kindly?

Why is it that civilized humanity

Can make the world so wrong ?
In this hurly-burly of insanity
Our dreams cannot last long.

Have any of you ever played Bioshock?

It's an awesome game that I've recently re-discovered after about a year. It's better than any other game that I know. Sure, theres violence and its a little bloodthirsty, but its backed up with so much brilliant storyline and wonderful art-deco design that it doesn't feel as mindless as others.

I'm gonna devote this blog as a tribute to it's brilliance; if you've ever played it, you might identify. If you've never played/heard of it, this will make fuck all sense but you might still get that feeling of wonderment that you do when you play. This is what the game is like in summary.

1. Witness the city of Rapture for the first time after you crash land in the ocean. Re-attach your jaw.


2. Listen to unnerving audio and creepy visuals, interspersed with the dulcet tones of a friendly Irishman.


3. Stab yourself with a syringe you find in a machine. Get special powers. Try and work out which part of the message 'just stay calm' insists that you hurl yourself off a balcony.

4. Explore the city more. Kill some splicers, ugly druggie bastards. Fight men in giant diving suits with drills. Injure small children. Snap your fingers to set everything on fire.


5. Hate the game for its frequent reliance on terrifying shock tactics, but at the same time love the game for said reliance because it's used so well.


6. Would you kindly note the exceptional plot twist. Re-attach jaw for second time.


7. Feel pangs of disappointment that the final boss is a fucking pushover and can be defeated with a sneeze and virtually no skill or perseverance.


8. Enjoy one of THREE POSSIBLE ENDINGS! AAAAGH!


9. Feel either thoroughly uplifted, slightly guilty, or utterly depressed depending on which ending you got.


In short, it's a beautiful and awe-inspiring game set in a post-war objectivist Utopia, with the underlying message that if man is given license to pursue his passions and individual goals in a laissez-faire environment, he will ultimately consume himself! Irrespective of egalitarian principles, free market competition will lead to a strict societal hierarchy! The Ryandian objectivism's failure to understand basic human nature will always, fatally, be its downfall!

Lets see Call of Duty work THAT shit into the next modern warfare.

All that, plus you shoot stuff.

And thats all I have for you. Forgive me for my nerdy spells, would you kindly?

Filmic gems

When night is creepin',
And I should be sleepin' in bed,
If you were peepin'
You'd find that I'm weepin' instead ..

When having vague, boring discussions about recent films with those I know, Transformers is often one that tops the list, seeing as it's a mindless two hour long man-fest of boobs, robots, guns and explosions.

However, if you've seen the trailer for Sucker Punch, directed by Zack Snyder of Watchmen and 300 fame, then even at this early stage, Transformers seems to now be coming in a modest 2nd place. From the trailer, we immediately deduce that Sucker Punch includes, but is probably not limited to:

• Guns
• Swords
• Boobs
• Dragons
• Samurai
• World War One
• World War Two
• Explosions
• Burlesque
• Different planets
• Robots
• Zombies
• A soundtrack whored from all the stuff not used in Watchmen and 300
• Mental asylums
• Dogfights
• Pole dancing
• Mafia
• Zeppelins
• A giant Samurai with a minigun
• Close-ups of eye makeup application.

It beats The Sound of Music in any case.

Counting down.

I've looked at life from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow,
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all ..

So this blog is liable to become a little less busy over the coming months. Instead, theres a whole new one, as promised.

You can find it here .

You'll get frequent updates, probably of varying degrees of interest and humour. I might do a few in German, just to spite you.

How is this even possible?!

For the loser now,
Will be later to win,
Oh the times they are a changin' ..

THE GUY FROM INCEPTION CALLED ARTHUR IS THE GEEKY KID FROM 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU!

HOLY 11 YEAR AGE DIFFERENCE BATMAN!

Inception

Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church
where a wedding has been, lives in a dream ..
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps
in a jar by the door, who is it for?

*Potential spoilers ahead*

Hot damn.

This film exceeded every expectation I had.

Naturally, it being a film by Chris Nolan, I was certainly thinking along the lines of The Dark Knight, The Prestige, Memento - all his great stuff. But this - this is beyond any of those.

The plotline follows Leonardo Dicaprio as Cobb, who along with his wingman Arthur, infilitrate people's dreams and subconscious minds in order to extract information that they will not, or cannot reveal consciously. The stakes are changed however when they are employed to enter the subconscious realms of a business tycoon with the objective of planting an idea that will affect his future decisions, as opposed to removing something.


The ideas of dreams are brilliantly explored, such as the notion of the impossibility of dream scenarios which are accepted as real. And while the dreams can be affected by external factors, most prominently the notion of falling, the team find themselves exploring dreams within dreams, facing off against the hostile projections of the victim's subconscious.

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling."

In short, it's ruddy excellent, striking a balance between a dangerous mission and the personal life of the team's leader, Cobb. Go and see it.


Oh, and Piranha 3D looks fucking rubbish.

Name dropping

Any time I try to get through,
Your phone is quiet and so are you,
The consequence of my demand,
Oh what I need ..

Yesterday I booked a one-way flight to Germany, which means that on the 29th I'll be stepping off British soil for 4 and a half months or so. This blog will inevitably stay intact during the next year or so, but I'll probably make another more dedicated one exclusively about life and times in Germany.

I kind of whored the idea from here. Cheers Soph :)

God bless us.

A singer in a smokey room,
A smell of wine and cheap perfume,
For a smile they can share the night,
It goes on and on and on and on ..

I was out in Sheffield last night with some folks from uni, a night which proved to be an interesting experience for all concerned. Alcohol continues its ongoing mission to change the sexualities of those I surround myself with, but if full blown lesbianism in slutty schoolgirl outfits is the price I pay for their company, you'll forgive me if I don't stop hanging round with them just yet.

We also saw the return of 'realising how pissed you are when driving home in a taxi', which has been sadly rare this past month or so. The conversation was like this:

"We drank a lot more than I thought we did."
"Yeah, it was a lot."
"It didn't seem like it was that much."
"Were all the drinks about 50p?"
(Together, with a sigh of sudden realization why we feel like shit): "Oh, fuck."


God bless us, everyone.

Bam! Liberation for everyone!

Place a name upon the night,
One to set your heart alight,
And to make the darkness bright,
Paint the sky with stars ..

So, just as the war in Afghanistan was getting more boring or exciting depending on your viewpoint, Obama has announced that all US combat operations will cease by the end of August, to be followed by us, at some point in the .. next .. 5 years or so.

So while we struggle on with our crappy 'humanitarian' mission (4 soldiers killed in a single day today, go humanitarianism!), Obama seems to have seized the initiative and should have a nice big win in the propaganda war. Take that France, you big fairy peace queens.

This will of course now force America to take a similar stance to ours, the one that seemed doomed from the outset 9 years ago; that is, forming bonds and winning hearts and minds. When shock and awe campaigns are all done, attention will turn elsewhere to something more entertaining, as the whole 'rebuilding damaged country' thing isn't that glamorous.

But has terrorism really died with Western intervention? The war seems to have produced more anti-Western feelings than ever before. The insurgencies of Iraq and Afghanistan were exacerbated by our role there.

Will our intervention ultimately equate to further 9/11 or 7/7 attacks? More burning of effigies and flags? Will our failure to decisively and swiftly defeat the Taliban, as with the Soviets, act as an inspiration to other countries or groups who wish to act against us? And most importantly, when we eventually leave, will we be left with a crap government who will neglect to prevent our military failures in the Middle East from becoming our permanent legacy?

These are all good questions, Max.

Why, cheers Max!

These issues will most likely pursue you for years to come

I'm well aware of that, Max. It's an unnerving thought.

Indeed! You look very summery today, by the way.

Thanks! I'm planning a haircut again soon.

Good idea.

What's to be done with the Middle East, eh?

I just don't know. I'm tired of talking about it. This was a heavy post. What's on telly?

Business as usual

Si tu le parle 'mmiezzo americano?
Quando se fa l'ammore sotto 'a luna,
Come te vene 'capa e di: "I love you?"

Breaking News in national newspapers! Joe McElderry, that northern kid who won X factor last year, stunned the nation by announcing that he is gay. This is the one who once uttered the line "I don't fancy Cheryl", shortly before covering a Hannah Montana song. I'd have been more surprised if he came out as straight.

Also on the subject, Cheryl Cole has made a miraculous recovery from Malaria, despite several over-the-top proclamations of her imminent death. I know she's the 'nation's sweetheart', whatever that means, but even this seems a little much.

Aside from being "a little bit vague and not with it" in the words of one fan, she's also been described as "severely underweight and unable to talk properly".

No change then.

Sheffield

These streets will make you feel brand new,

Big lights will inspire you,
Now you're in New York, New York, New York ..

It's come to the point once again where my body clock is buggered beyond immediate repair, but not even in the usual, workable nocturnal way. It's a strange half-a-day-behind kind of thing, which is messing with my head and making what should be late afternoon breakfast time. I think I'll order out.

I was in Sheffield yesterday with a few special people, eating pasties and doing Northern sightseeing and such like. Have you ever been to Weston Park Museum? It's one of those interactive child friendly museums with a plethora of different exhibitions which in retrospect I can't possibly link together (e.g. the prominence of Sheffield as an international steelworks city; Egyptian mummies; Prehistoric creatures; A room full of paintings and plates and crockery; a stuffed polar bear etc).

Looks like this.

For me, the crowning part has to be comments left by children who've visited; sometimes it's in a comment book, sometimes they're on bits of paper provided by the museum which ask friendly questions for the child to answer.

Ruth, Anna, Benjy - I hope you read this and laugh again as much as we did at the time. One of the best child comments of all ..

Museum Question: What is precious to you?

Child scrawl: Woodlice, cheese, and Lego.

Only it was scrawled in such a fashion that the latter word looked as if it said 'Legs'. Woodlice, cheese and legs. You couldn't write that kind of comedy.

Regardless of the fact that it was a simple legibility issue, and that I myself have always been a big fan of Lego, the reality remains that somewhere in the world, there is a child who holds woodlice and cheese close to their heart. How I wish I could meet them one day.

Love and gratitude

Daydream,

I fell asleep amid the flowers,
For a couple of hours,
On a beautiful day ..

I've just finished reading the last entry of my Wingman's blog documenting his year abroad in Japan, and am feeling rather melancholy. Just as he feels, in his own words, "a profound sense of gratitude", theres a feeling just kicking in for me now of what an incredible experience it all was, and a similar gratitude on my part for him and 2 other lovely people that I know out there who took their time to show me as much I saw.


Guys, thankyou.

Another sell out.

I really love to be alone without all the
Ache and pain, and the april showers ..
But it ain't long before I long for you,
like a ray of hope coming through the blue ..

I've just got another shitload of stuff for Germany, the excitingly titled 'Summer information pack', which is actually a very long and scary email with more attachments than you can shake a stick at. This will inevitably mean more forms to fill in, more emails to send and more German to remember. This next year had better be the best year of my life.

I discovered the delights of Halifax last night, where I met an array of increasingly bizarre people, including ones wearing so much fake tan that even the word orange wasn't in sight; more of an industrial pink-grey. Kind of like spam wearing fake tan.

Todays 'lowest sell-out' award however goes to Gok Wan, who has managed to somehow get his big gay face plastered onto the front of those Snack-a-Jack things (I've only just realised upon typing this that I don't actually know what they are. Ricecakes?). In any case, his silly mug blows kisses from the front of the pack and urges whoevers stuffing their face to "Bag some She-time", whatever the fuck that means.

Why is Gok Wan choosing our snacks for us now? This combined with some of his curious fashion suggestions? I'd be happier having David Blunkett draw up my Summer look for me and have Stevie Wonder in charge of my snacks.

But, theres a bonus for fans! For the price of a packet of Snack-a-Jacks, you could win £500 and a posh makeover! Are you feeling lucky, punk?

Overkill alert

Don't be shocked by the tone of my voice,

Just got my new weapon,
weapon of choice ..

I've been meaning to work this into an earlier post but it's difficult to link bizarre weaponry to political or football related posts. Thus, it gets its own post all to itself.

That's an AA-12. It's an automatic shotgun. An automatic god-darned shotgun. Although it beggars the immediate question 'what scenario exists for such a thing?', you have to admit, if you can't have fun with an automatic 12-gauge shotgun you're either a pussy, or a cripple. Or both.

This makes my christmas list 2010.

The race scientifics of M&M's

But I won 't hesitate, no more, no more
It cannot wait, I'm yours ..

I bought some M&M's the other day, for the first time in years, and after perusing the colours, have decided that they are dodging the race bullet.

Consider: All the colours used in M&M's have 'characters' and personalities applied to them which is embodied by their colour. This has occasionally been exploited by advertising campaigns. So we have red, the kind of tough, mean spirited one; yellow, kind of happy go lucky one; green is a feminine character; blue is the laid back, doesn't give a toss one, and orange .. orange is undecipherable. He probably embodies fearful or some such thing.

Ah, but brown?

I'd have expected some awkward move, such as making the brown M&M something like a stereotypical Oxford professor, when in reality brown would represent the lazy, earthy, perhaps slightly dumb one, a farcry from the 'sharp' personalities of red and blue. This just isn't how we perceive the colour! I won't go down the bullshit political correctness route on all this, but it's true: there has never been a 'personality' of any kind applied to the brown M&M because they know that the race-pandering they'd put forth so as not to offend brown-skinned individuals (e.g. examples such as the Oxford professor) would be outrightly rejected.

Of course, they didn't give a shit about the oriental implications with that ol' yellow M&M, but nobody really cares about offending Asians.

Purgatory.

Them check say me come from cosmo spring,

But a true dem no know and ting,
Dem no know say we top ranking,
Uptown Top Ranking ..

Yesterday's trips to and from Leeds reminded me why I started to hate public transport and people when they're combined. Dare I say it without sounding like some 18th century bourgois onlooker, the journey there was so chock full of such dysfunctional family groups and general tossmongers that my will to live hung in the balance.

The best one had to be a family of 4 who were going to York. I know this because mother wouldn't shut up about it. Father was a strange sort of black wife-beater type with an 80's pornstar moustache; think Lando Calrissian but bald. He cracks open a tinnie.

Their eldest daughter, with a face like a watermelon, demands crisps, raving about what kind of pissing hair extensions she's going to have before, during and after their holiday to Spain in 2 weeks. She's one of those people who giggles in a kind of gay hyperactive way, like they're wired up to a drip full of liquefied Haribo.

"Am in a proper good mood today, me" she announces loudly for the benefit of the train. Cheers for that love.

The younger sister, with hair like carrotty sick, who until now has been playing on a pink nintendo DS with 'princess' engraved on the back in silver now decides she doesn't like crisps and tearfully demands alternative snacks. Mother coos and Lando half-arsedly complies and sends one of those fruit winder things over, which shuts her the hell up. Mother reads aloud from 'OK' magazine, an article to the tune of 'I was raped and left for dead by my ex, but I have come away a stronger woman even though I probably won't walk for 6 weeks.'

"Aw, that's well harsh is that", notes Watermelon.

Have you ever shared a moment with a train passenger whom you've never met before; a moment where you glance at each other and with that one passing second of eye contact, the message 'you hate this family too, right?' is immediately conveyed? I have.

There's some kind of delay between Huddersfield and Leeds. We plod along at a snails pace. Carrot-sick whines for more fruit winders. Watermelon contemplates eye makeup. Mother shares 'OK' magazine. Lando opens another can.

The train rolls on.

Bullets are cheaper than prison

Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?

Get out of here and get me some money too ..

So it seems that Raoul Moat won't become the month-long story worthy of great attention that I was expecting. The events surrounding his death however are vaguely funny, in a surreal, macabre way.

What wouldn't I have given to have witnessed that scene? Moat, on the bank of a Rothbury river, surrounded by armed police, while police negotiators talk to him calmly as he holds his shotgun to his throat. The standoff, bathed in the spotlight of a police helicopter, is tense.

Then, from what I can infer from the plethora of news stories that I've scoured after not quite believing it, Paul Gascoigne turns up after a few at the pub armed with chicken, fishing rods, and more booze, with the fool-proof plan of a little night time angling with Moat, to try and convince him to put his weapons down and go quietly.

He was also confused apparently as to why the police wouldn't let him through the cordon. You've done us proud again Gazza.

Besides, Moat was probably making a fuss about nothing, his breakup and all. I'm sure there are plenty of other nice young women out there looking for serious relationships with burly ginger geordies with histories of violent crime and steroid abuse.

Thus ends the life of the 3rd murderous fuckhead in as many months. That 'crossbow cannibal' twat, Derrick Bird, the angry taxi driver, and now ol' Raoul. Nuts eh? You wait ages for a serial killer and then 3 turn up at once.


Oh, and my sincerest thoughts go to the poor bastard pictured up there on the left who seems to have been kitted out with stuff the Police found at Toys R Us. He seems rightfully pissed off.

Chillin'

Picture yourself in a boat on a river,

With tangerine trees and marmalade skies,

Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,

A girl with kaleidoscope eyes ..

I made a promise a short while back that there would be no more football related entries, but as the semi finals have just been and gone, the actual final now looms on sunday and the subject is thus likely to pop up again.

Germany lost 1-nil to Spain today, giving us a kick in the tits two-fold: not only did it shit on our tentative hopes of "maybe we lost to Germany because they're simply the best team in the tournament?", it also suggests we're doubly crap for losing against a team that gave such a low performance as they did tonight. Pfft.

I've been very lucky this week in the sense that I've procured a room in Leeds amongst old fellow block-mates which has allowed me to keep taking part in all the bizarre shit that I've become accustomed to in their midst, which is nice.

Back up North

Innocent smile,
Runnin' free,
Baby's gonna give it like it used to be ..

Hello goslings.

I've just got back from a few days camping in Newquay where I wrestled unsuccessfully with a camping stove and cursed the British weather for being rainy and windy on me occasionally. Yes, I sunbathed, frequently and spiritedly, but I did wear a fleece as I did so.

This short break has also taught me that I am a crap partner to play in a pool tournament with. The snooker type one, not the swimming sort, that is. Fair play, I'm a bit shite at it, but the hissy strop that came about as a result of my performance the other night simply did not equate. To that particular partner I say this: When you enter your "It's not about taking part, its about winning" mindset that I know so well, you have all the charm of a whales cock. You're fine otherwise.

But, what I did take away from this short holiday was re-discovering my ability to read.

I used to plough through books and absolutely bum reading, but now its usually a case of "Goodness, look at all these books I haven't read; don't they all look interesting? No, wait - better not risk it. I shall read this book that I know by heart to see if its changed in any way since the last time".

Thus I've gone through months and months of not reading a new book.

The book that broke this tradition however was given and recommended by a friend. It's called Flashman, the first of a series called The Flashman Papers. It follows the fictional exploits of a more minor character (the school bully, the titular Flashman) from Tom Brown's Schooldays, and basically tells of life after his expulsion from school from his point of view. Victorian life and wars through the eyes of a cowardly, cheating, womanising bastard. Its ruddy brill and pretty funny, if a little dark at times. I recommend lots.

And after a message that worried me a little, I'd like to confirm that I'm still very fond of all you people who I haven't seen for the best part of a month. Especially this person - "I'm scared you [-] don't want to be my friend anymore". Mate, I ruddy love you. I'll visit soon.

Recent updates and the last footy one.

When you're close to tears remember,
someday, it'll all be over,
One day we're gonna get so high ..

England played Germany today.

Thank fuck we can take solace in the fact that we won the war. My god, we were a shambles. Not even our one goal was impressive; if you watch the replays, the ball sort of bounces aimlessly off Matthew Upson's face into the net. Compared to Germany of course, who scored 2 goals in 3 minutes. Oh yeah, and two other ones.

Shrek and Donkey commiserate another miss.

Everything about it was shite. Terry and Upson hang around having a fag break while Germany's strikers run straight up the middle, Heskey replaced Defoe for some inane reason, and Lampard's obvious goal was denied, for all the difference it'd have made. Forget the 'spirit of 1966' that people keep mentioning; we were playing football from 1066.

Ahh, and Rooney managed to get in his customary effing and blinding piece to the ref and a little angry piece to camera at half time. Just beautiful.


Enough footy.


I've officially moved out of my Leeds house, which means I'm back home with a shitload of stuff I never knew I had, which needs sorting tomorrow, joy. This also means I'll be travelling near and far to find friends (Southern people take note: I'll be a-knocking end of July/early August) and forms of entertainment outside of a small village.

Moving out has meant sorting out a whole host of needlessly pointless stuff, like taking pictures of the gas and water meters for a final record, sending Virgin Media their balls internet equipment back and trying not to incur charges from our landlords, which begin at £15 per tenant at the cheapest, all the way up to £250 for a range of increasingly petty obligations. Hopefully this will all be finished painlessly.

I'm also getting more letters from Germany, which is exciting. The school that they want me to go be an assistant at has offered me an apartment and a bunch of other paperworky bits and pieces that I wish I could read more easily.


Anyway, I'm off to Newquay soon, to sit in a tent and wrestle with cooking equipment, driving down in a car that will probably be pulled over at least once. My money's either on no MOT, expired tax disc, or wheel missing. Guy, make me proud mate.

Vuvezelas

When our souls were introduced,
No one of us could ever know,
What we will be going through,
Feeling high, feeling low ..

England beat Slovenia!

Sadly I missed the match itself as I was cavorting around my home village with the penis pirate and his wench (goddamn, you two know who you are) at the time, though I did catch a couple of minutes on the telly at Shepley co-op during a prolonged ice cream choosing session.

So yeah, 1-nil to us. Well, what can you expect against a country whose currency is probably vegetables?

Also, credit to John Terry for that block-dive thing that wasn't quite so. Never mind mate, it looked good in slow-mo even if it didn't prevent anything.

Another footy one ..

You might think I'm crazy, but I don't even care,
Because I can tell what's going on ..
It's hip to be square ..

It's wednesday today, which means that at 3pm, England will kick off against Slovenia in the morose, lip-bitingly tense party that is World Cup 2010. This entry has been brought on partially by a growing number of facebook status updates in support of England, and partly because I fear that today will be another all-too-familiar replay of bygone matches. Grim, grim.

If this is the case, then the inevitable pre-match build-up will be all but destroyed long before half time.

We can hope however, that England fare better against Slovenia than they did Algeria; the latter country is just a desert for Christ's sake. Improvements for our team would include, but are not limited to:

• No more Hair-raising 'passes' back to the goalie
• Fewer crap punches from said goalie.
  
• Less dismal, aimless long balls to the opposing defenders/midfielders
• Heskey not falling over
• Rooney getting more than 2 touches of the ball per match
• Lampard aiming for the goal and/or not fumbling the ball at every opportunity
• Capello not hopping round on the sidelines like an angry granny at bingo
• Gerrard shooting for the goal when he's open and clear instead of misguidedly passing it back

But - we shall see.

Loneliness and football punditry

Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose,

Nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free ..

The Leeds era is coming to an end; 6 of my 7 housemates have now moved back down southward, meaning that I can finally wander round the house naked, bb gun slung round my neck, flaming torch in hand, screaming profanity to the world.

Or something like that.

North Korea are playing in the World Cup again today. I speculated the other day over the fate of the team that played last week; are they the same ones playing today, or are they already doing hard labour in a gulag somewhere? We may never know. All that's certain is that being a football pundit for North Korea must be the most nerve-racking job in the world ..


"..Weather lovely in South Africa, tiny island off coast of glorious Democratic People Republic of North Korea. Floor in South Africa so dirty that people must eat and sleep in buildings. Poverty so great that people must travel in cars. Here for covering of World Cup football, game invented by glorious leader KIM JONG-IL, exported recently to rest of world.

Today we play Portugal, inferior country who must be bricking it. Match will not be broadcast live, but with 24 hour delay, for reasons entirely uninvolving CAPITALIST RUMOURS that time for photoshopping face of DEAR LEADER onto head of goal-scoring player needed."

DEMOCRATIC PEOPLE REPUBLIC goalie reprimand for checking out arse of glorious midfield!

"Prepare to see DEMOCRATIC PEOPLE REPUBLIC players rice and dust-based diet and whip and execution training superiority over rest of world! For now, witness footage of cheering DEMOCRATIC PEOPLE crowds with their capitalist vuvezelas!"



I feel for that team. I really do.

I'm gonna prepare the flaming torch now and chill out in my empty house.

Deutschland-bound.

Buffalo soldier, dreadlock rasta,
There was a buffalo soldier in the heart of America,
Stolen from Africa, brought to America,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival ..

Well, after ages of waiting, a letter came for me yesterday with details of the school that I'm meant to be an assistant at in Germany next year. Place itself is called Neuerburg, google images tells me that it's one of those very pretty German cities, with castles and forests and whatnot, which is nice.

Now theres only the prospect of filling out all my forms and then it's official and real. This is a little nerve-racking.

Banzai!

When that cloud arrives we'll live on Ocean Drive ..

Don't know why you're so blue,
Sun's gonna shine on everything you do ..

This is a big one.

I've done a fair amount of flying over the past god knows how many hours.

It remains a complete mindfuck, this timezone/travel business. Flying from Japan to Manchester via the Middle East will screw with your mind in the worst way, as well as allowing you to set off at any hour, fly for 10 hours or so, and arrive at the next destination only 3 hours after you left the last place .. the previous day.

But here's a breakdown, some bits more detailed than others, of a week with the Japanese.

JOURNEY

The flight's a transfer one: from Manchester, it's 6/7 hours to Dubai, then 10 hours from there to Japan. The flight out was pretty comfy as the bloke meant to be sitting next to me didn't turn up, so I got his window seat and leg room, which was nice.


On the return journey, due to either a stroke of major fortune or a bizarre admin problem, the very nice people at Emirates decided I should fly to Dubai business class. Oh well, go on then. Just this once. Remember Monsters Inc.? There was a great little short film released shortly after it came out called 'Mike's New Car'. Youtube it; watch Sully's reactions when he climbs in. Mine were pretty similar.

It was a lot like this.

If you haven't flown business class before, it seems naturally to be a very expensive affair; mostly white haired brits or arabic guys, wearing pressed suits and shined shoes, with an array of newspapers in various languages. They sit with their glasses on the end of their noses and sip the complimentary champagne. They address the air hostesses in a polite, yet clipped manner. Impeccable plane behaviour.

Cue me.

Sweaty, big hair, 3 shirt buttons undone, fumbling with flight documents and dropping my passport. A friendly stewardess comes to my rescue. Looks of chagrin sweep the faces of the cabin occupants; is this unkempt bastard going to be sharing this section with us? Surely not.

But I did, and it was ruddy awesome. I tried not to take it on a personal level when the grey-haired bloke next to me pushed a button somewhere by his seat and a little wall slid out of the armrest and blocked me off from him. S'matter old timer? You don't like sharing a row with a sweaty student?

The catering gets a little more chic in business class too. Yes, gone are the days of "would you like the chicken or the fish sir?" and in it's place are multi-lingual menus offering a vast variety of dishes, all 3 courses. I had the marinated duck with fresh herb sauce. Consider that. I had duck with herb sauce on a fucking plane. It was even prepared restaurant style, with little gloops of sauce spirally dripped around artistically arranged slices of duck, each separated with a little orange segment.

Yes Chef. Good effort.

Also note the real cutlery and the tablecloth for your fold out table, which comes out of the seat; they're having none of that 'attached to the seat in front' nonsense like the rabble eating in steerage. Oh, and there's a separate tablecloth JUST FOR THE TRAY! Aah, does good service have no bounds?

JAPAN

There's an absolute shitload that I could ramble about, and each bit would probably end up with it's own blog size paragraph devoted to it. How about just some pictures? You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Yup, Japan. It's a very nice place.

There's a very quick transition, just as there was in Berlin, between me looking like a shameless tourist, and then me being a massive poser. Shamelessly, may I add. Here we go.

Me on the ferry heading out to Miyajima Island, home of the Itsukushima floating shrine. I'm looking very touristy indeed. For those of you that follow me on facebook then yes, this is the island with them cute deers.

The next photo I hope is a vision of my future which involves travelling, except with a smaller bag.

The two women on the left in this next photo couldn't believe their luck in seeing me. Their exact words were something like "My God, is that Max?". A once in a lifetime opportunity for some.

Pose! Pose like there's no tomorrow!

That's me in Osaka, in a very culturally rich district. Also, readers: If you happen to be the very pretty European-looking girl who was taking pictures on the bridge, then I feel we should have exchanged words instead of just smiling at each other. I was with the guy with the brown hair who nearly got hit by a pigeon, if you recall.

I don't think I was even posing in this next one, which means I'm more photogenic than you.

So yeah, thats just a tiny selection of photos from Japan; the rest will make it onto facebook within the week. You may applaud now.


I leave you with this parting thought, which has been bothering me since I stepped off the last flight at Manchester Airport. We all have showers/baths/both, or take care with personal hygiene, right?

But it is possible to go for a short while without the promise of a wash, under circumstances, isn't it? The thing that confuses me is that bizarre plane ritual where the stewardesses hand out hot flannels for each passenger.

If it ever happens, watch the reaction. Rarely, I'd wager, do people at home or work sit back and think 'You know what'd be awesome? A really hot, damp flannel, to caress my face and hands with'. It's just odd. But on the plane, as soon as they're out, everyone does a very heartfelt, almost exaggerated wiping of the face and hands, rubbing round the cheeks and temples, taking care to wash between each finger, with an extra final wipe on the palms. It confuses the hell out of me. It's as if everyone's suddenly been told they're covered in crap, that they were completely unaware of before. Do they feel abundantly clean and refreshed now?


Just me?