Much more than just bacon

I watch a lot of films and TV shows. Over the past year I have ignited a seemingly unquenchable interest in World Cinema and foreign drama and the time has come for me to share the gems I cherish most.

I could blog/bore you about French cinematography, the Italian's unrivalled expressions of romance or the Spanish ability to conjure the true magic of an adventure. But no, this post is one for the people of Denmark.

I'm pretty sure most of you will be thinking, surely their only exports are bacon and members of the Schmiechel family? Aha - they have much more than that my friends!

Great drama is a powerful art form, and the Danes have nailed it. They have a way of making you completely forget your own world. It truly is an experience rather than endurance to watch their mysteries unfold. From my own experience I have seen an expression of truthfulness and grit that English drama can sometimes often deliver but where it surpasses it is in the character development - it is phenomenal, notably across the TV series I have seen.

People often ask me how I can put up with watching things with subtitles, and how much more concentration it must take to watch these sorts of programme. GOOD.

Too often we are caught in the age of social media and mobile devices. We drift away from programmes to text friends, look at a twitter feed or post something on Facebook - and those things are great, don't get me wrong, they have a time and place - I'm blogging from my iPhone now! But they so often detract from the true power and experience of watching drama and cinema.

You can't get away with doing that when all the dialogue is in a language you can hardly understand. Before you have chance to What'sApp you'll be saying "what's that?!" And having to rewind - it requires concentration and that effort is rewarded many times over.

To highlight what Danish TV/cinema can offer you I've listed a couple of things for you to get stuck into:

Forbrydelsen: It is one the best tv series I have ever seen. I think ITV ran with the translated version, The Killing. Centrally themed around detective work and politics, the twists and turns engage you constantly.

Hæven/In A Better World:
It won a golden globe and an academy award. It's directed by Susanne Bier who is reasonably well noted within the world of cinema. It's a story of revenge and the power of forgiveness in 2 completely different worlds inextricably linked.

Borgen:
Political drama, media spinners and journalists. No Malcolm Tucker, but by god does this grab you by the balls. It's the character development in this which really got me into it, it's got just as many twists and turns as Forbrydelsen (it's actually produced by the same people). Plus, this is the first time - fictional or otherwise - that I have found a Prime Minister a little bit sexy. Political and personal intrigue explored, you really fall head first into the life of Birgitte Nyborg.


Bron/Broen:
Starts off with a body on a bridge. Then it's half a body of 2 different people, of different nationalities, put together. If that isn't the best ending to a first episode I don't know what is! Also, this is bi-lingual - it's in Danish and Swedish - as the body is found exactly on the border so both sets of national authorities have to investigate. What a great way for people to learn foreign languages, through great drama. The uncompromising honestly of the female protagonist is possibly the best thing about this show.

That's enough for now, I won't spoil it any further, get involved and let me know if you have any recommendations.

I was trying to finish on a bacon pun, but for the life of me I can think of none, so I'll play this card instead...

Great Danes: drama with more bite than bark xx

Shared a Beacon of hope for new indie music

Firstly I must apologise, to those who genuinely read/enjoy this, for how long it has been since I last blogged. I've had a pretty busy summer what with weddings/civil partnerships, the Olympics, holidays, hockey tours, physiotherapy, osteopathy (as if I ever wouldn't be writing this without some sort of physical malady) and work all distracting me from the joy that is pumping my thoughts and opinions onto the internet. However, I have managed to wake up early on a Saturday morning - first Saturday of the National League Hockey season (at home vs Beeston); time to write - but what to write about?!

There are probably lots of things that I should be writing about based on the above list of distractions but it would seem that each one seems too broad to cover in the time I have available to get this post up and out before I toddle off to Cannock.

I recently decided that I needed some new music. I enjoyed an almost nostalgic summer music experience, listening back to pretty much every album I had on CD in my journeys across the world or to and from work but I found myself looking for something new. One of the albums I bought was Beacon by Two Door Cinema Club.

For those of you who don't know who they are, visit their website here. Their catchy music has been dotted over TV adverts for the last year, so you probably know them when you hear the right tracks. I was lucky enough to be treated to seeing them live as part of last year's NME tour with my bestest Kassie Fleet. Whilst I had their first album Tourist History in my car for pretty much 3 months solid after that gig I had let them slip from my mind and ears for the whole summer. Then I got an email from Amazon telling me that Two Door were releasing their second album, Beacon. 

I took the gamble and pre-ordered it. Which actually makes me wonder why on earth I did that: Why pay for something you want in advance, especially CDs? Economically, you incur a cost to yourself with no immediate benefit, logically the transaction should give you a benefit at the point you incur the cost e.g. you are thirsty, you buy a drink, you drink the drink, benefit realised. Never mind - anyway it arrived... 

The album is brilliant - all killer with no filler, which is a massive contrast to other albums I have bought recently. I imagine it was difficult to follow the success of Tourist History - the only other artists who I can think of at this precise moment who smashed a brilliant first album with their second would be The Arctic Monkeys or The Maccabees (who I gather have just been nominated for the Mercury Music Awards; probably nothing to do with me blogging about them though).

There is just something about them which sets them apart from other indie artists. In reality their music isn't that much different from others of the same genre, but the way they bring it all together just seems more like a finished article, almost commercial. I suppose it is this attribute which makes it seem as if it is a guilty pleasure to like them. If you didn't know what they looked like, you could imagine them all in matching suits with slick hair and beaming smiles. In reality they are a are a skinny-jean clad three-piece indie rock band from Bangor and Donaghadee signed to a French label - about as edgy as it gets!



Why I think the album is such a success it is that they have put just the right amount of diversity within the album but stuck to the winning formula from the singles that brought them success off the first album. I imagine they are already, but they should be very proud of Beacon. The lyrics are great and their trademark riff/chorus line combinations work a treat. It genuinely sounds like they have enjoyed bringing this together and sharing it with the world. Lucky us!

My favourite track so far is Sun, which I think is next single release - having given away Sleep Alone as part of a twitter campaign push for the album. Check it out on Soundcloud.

They were great live and will be touring the UK in early 2013, so get your tickets you'll be in for a treat should you go see them. 

In short, a Beacon of hope for new music. Original, happy music. Enjoy it x

Realised I am older

It has been a while since I last virtually put pen to paper but I’ve been a busy chap so no apologies there as if I didn't do anything then I wouldn't have anything to blog about. 


I’m currently recovering from a night out in Cannock, both mentally and biologically. This weekend has been some what of a revelation on 2 counts: I’m getting old.


The first one is much easier to explain so I’ll start with that: 


This Saturday I shopped at M&S looking at things for me rather than for anyone else (Christmas gifts, etc). I didn’t realise the gravity of the transaction until I got home; it propelled me into feeling middle-aged. I must iterate that this is not a criticism of M&S’ range of clothes, and it’s not that bad really - I was only looking for new shirts and trousers for work - I haven’t started wearing Blue Harbour out on the tiles but this is a dangerous statistic in my own calculations of how old I really am. 


I often still feel like I’m 15, still don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing and enjoying that - but M&S has gone and made me feel about 30 and that's what's worrying me. Am I on a slippery slope? People at work have commented on my jazzy work wardrobe - positively, I might add - which largely consists of purchases from ASOS, H&M and Zara - so I suppose that is why this step off the path feels like a move in the wrong direction. We’ll see how my M&S purchases go down and I’ll try and remember to let you know what feedback they get. 


Now to the difficult one:


I have been fortunate enough to see many bands and artists play live. I won’t list them (namely because I can’t remember all of them), however, what is important to highlight for this blog entry is the following:

• I went to see Coldplay at the Etihad on 9th June (for a more in-depth review, please read this - composed by my bestest Kassie Fleet)
• I went to see Watch The Throne (Kanye West & Jay-Z) on 12th June (for photos and videos of this event you’ll all have a facebook friend who went, just have a gander their stuff)

These were arguably the 2 best concerts I have ever been to for almost entirely opposite reasons. 


Coldplay pulled out all the stops to let you know that the audience were an integral part to the show. Great production all round and they created the intimacy of much a smaller venue despite it being at a stadium. You forget just how many Coldplay songs you know all the words to! They are arguably the most successful British rock band in terms of sales and tours in recent history. As close to Queen or The Beatles as we have in this day and age.


Watch The Throne - Wow. They are just mega-superstars. They are both the influenced and influence. It was 3 gigs in one, it almost felt like the most gangster pantomime that has ever existed - although I’m not sure there is a market for that. Yeezy and Hove were incredible, NIP being performed 5 times was just ridiculous. 


Also, for those who don’t know (as I recently had to have this explained to me) Jay-Z’s sobriquet Hove/Hova/Hov comes from Hebrew word for God, Jehovah (which becomes J-HOVA) - hence "H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A". But to get back on track…


I saw Coldplay. I saw Kanye West. I saw Jay-Z. We were in the same room, a very big room but still the same room. 


And it was these thoughts, which I processed today on my return home from Cannock, that made me realise that’s all I had to say: They are milestones - it was a musical bucket list quest and I was fortunate enough to achieve 3 of them across 4 days:


Coldplay, Jay-Z and Kanye - Done. 


They will be stories I tell my friends/children but that is it, I don’t think I would want to see either act again. To me they will just become memories of a milestone; they aren’t the artists I put on to cheer me up or make me escape my bubble. That space is reserved for the likes of Bloc Party, Radiohead, Manic Street Preachers and The Maccabees. I will always need them. So that poses yet another question:


Am I old enough now to say that I listen to the stuff I used to listen to “when I was growing up”? 


If I am then that’s a bit scary but it’s happened and there isn’t a lot I can do about it - I have become old. I suppose I should just go and get an M&S store card, saves the hassle for when I actually turn 30 in 6 years time x

Looked back on 24 years.

I was intoxicated and without a computer on and around my birthday. It was my 24^th so I thought I would try and pull together (a far too briefly summarised) 24 incidents/memories from my 24 years because I literally have no other opinions to force upon the world. 

So, in no particularly order but a bit chronological:

1.       My first girlfriend.

I think I was maybe 3ish, I can’t remember her name, we held hands and we met at playgroup. I think I made the very first (of my very few) noble gestures at Lollipops Nursery; I won a key-ring of an army man and I gave it to her as she was leaving Nursery and starting school. Dating older women, wasn't a trend that stuck.

2.       Scott Downs being sick Freddy Mitting biting an apple with a worm in – all in the same day!

This was at my first school, Brooklands. That day was amazing. I had never seen anyone be so violently sick! And why did schools used to use sawdust to clean up sick? What was that all about?!  Is it still there?!

I’m not facebook friends with either of them, it’d be interesting to hear whether Freddy is still as camp and if Scott is still faster than me. Life's questions continue to be unanswered. 

3.       Spencer getting better than me at football.

It was inevitable. He is the sportier brother. The brother who got up and walked out of a room after me instead of learning to walk like the rest of us. He is a good footballer, and it became quite apparent that if I wanted any sporting prowess then I would need to find another sport. All this, sprang upon me by the age of 7. We remain close friends to this day.

4.       Orme House.

Aged 8, I moved schools. A free transfer to Orme House from Brooklands. That place will always have a space in my heart - notably the memorable Eyam trip where Julie Wright kept us up-to-date with the football scores, origami club with Mrs Daker (oh yeah, it was that cool) and when Stefan tripped me up and I grazed my face on the tennis courts - injuring myself, it would seem, is not a trait I have lost (ask anyone from Cannock).

Also, this is where I found hockey, or it found me. Glory days of junior hockey under Mr Broome. And it brought me up against Cannock Hockey Club, and I met my nemesis - Luke Dalton, who I hated. He was good (better than me) and it annoyed me. They always beat us in the county final, it became very frustrating.

5.       Joining Cannock

If you can’t beat them, join them - I had to play rugby at NULS so couldn't play hockey at the weekend until I was 15, and that's when I joined Cannock. I am still playing there and out of all the friends I have made, the ones at Cannock are definitely some of them. I grew to like Luke, he's now a marine and a very good friend (both valuable traits in my book).

6.     Playing football, with a girl

My Mum was a good footballer. She has played for England, which is pretty awesome; but I digress. At Orme House, we had a girl on our team. She was really good, her name was Georgia. I remember in particular, at one snowed covered tournament, where "the girl from the Orme" got a special mention, at which I think Sam and Rowls both cried because they were so cold - but Georgia didn't and I think that's why everyone wanted to 'go out' with her - a girl playing football at primary school, roughing it with the boys - she was cool. Our relationship was brief, but I wish her every success and hope she is happy.


7.       Being conned into going to Florida
This is a bizarre tale. Basically I was conned, along with my brother, into a family holiday with my cousins. We got promised a trip to Legoland, but we had to meet our uncle, aunt and cousins who had flown down to Gatwick from Worcester (oh how foolish it all seems now) who we would be going to the them park with. Anyway, when we got there my cousins asked us where we would want to go if we could go anywhere in the world. Between to two of us we answered Italy or Greece. We didn't go there, we went to Florida and had an amazing time. I have since learned that my school friends knew along along but kept their silence - and that's when I knew they were worth confiding in. Still haven't been to Legoland, but I have managed trips to Greece and Italy.


8.       9/11
I was in Chemistry with Mr Heeley, who took a phone call in the middle of our lesson from a friend who was currently in New York at the time of the terrorist attacks across America on 11th September. It was surreal. We couldn't believe it was true. We raced to a computer cluster and all frantically hammered news websites for further updates. It's one of those "Where were you when..." scenarios. It's a memory that will not disappear quickly.


9.       The unsuccessful audition
I like drama. I was lucky enough to play Don John in Much Ado in my final year at school and also Joseph at the junior school nativity - both key roles at respective scales of the good guy:bad guy spectrum. However, there was one audition where I didn't get a part - not even boy number 6 or shepherd 3. I was gutted. Miss Potts dashed my thespian desires by not giving me a part for Grimm Tales, at the age of 13. I pretended I wasn't bothered - but I cried when I got home. I didn't audition for the year after as a result of my heartbreak, but I decided to give it a try once again for Guys and Dolls at the age of 15 - I could sing a little, so that stood me in decent stead, and despite a clear lack of acting talent I got a part. Since then familiarity with English teaching staff always secured me a role until I left school. I decided not to pursue drama after school because people take it far too seriously, trust me - you do. And if you don't think that, you probably think I'm over-dramatic, I'm not - I'm just over drame.


10.   What’s the code?!
Possibly the best combination of bad planning and a great idea.  Once a week the boys from the entire GCSE year would migrate from English to Maths. All boys in one place at one time at a single point of entry building with a code locked door. We all knew the code, but what was the fun in that. Basically we sieged the doors to breaking point and we loved it. It was ritualised. The girls all thought we were idiots, but what did they know. What's the code?! Brilliant. We actually re-enacted this at our 5 year reunion, proof that boys grow old but will never grow up.


11.   Ryan’s party
I was invited, but only through other people dropping out I think which was a poignant memory in itself, it was the first time I realised that there was social segregation within our year group. I happily accepted my secondhand invite and rocked up with 16 VK’s and drank none of them. I drank lager, and hated it - everyone hated it, but boys had to drink it until they liked it - that's just how it was. I kissed 3 girls that night. None of them now speak to me - but I don't think that has anything to do with that night. It's a great memory as it was the first 'no parents' party I had been to. It had an ice luge for drinks, people were kissing multiple people, someone was sick: it was refreshingly entertaining.


12.   Poros
Along similar lines, this was a school watersports holiday but would be the first 'no parents holiday' outside of the UK, with only teachers for company. I have fond memories of this holiday, having shared a flat with Rowls, Adam, Miggy and Blakey it was bound to be eventful. I remember Jake Lloyd getting really drunk and being sick, Rowls getting stung by a bee and his hand swelling up to twice it's normal size and Claudia kissing Blakey. Oh take me back, where has my youth gone!


13. Fracturing my skull
Probably the only really bad thing that's happened to me playing hockey - here's hoping it stays that way. It was the Under-16 School Championships Midland semi-final, vs. Rugby school. It was during the second half and as the last player back, with our keeper rounded the chap hit a reverse stick shot and bang, the next thing I knew I was knocked backwards into the goal-post. It didn't hurt but I sat up and suddenly my head was bleeding, quite profusely. The teachers ran on to the pitch and Mr Chesterman told me, in what I expect was to comfort me, "Don't panic, but I can see your skull" - brilliant. It's fine now, I have a Potter-esque scar and needed about 18 stitches. The best of it was that the school nurse had called my mum and asked if I wanted to talk to her just before I got wheeled into an ambulance, only seconds away from going into shock. I agreed and the conversation went as follows:


Mum: Hi Joshy, are you ok?
Josh: No, we're losing 2-0 and there's only 10 minutes to go. 
Mum: That's a pity. See you at the hospital.


We lost 3-1. I have since learned that Mr Murtagh (a French teacher) actually laughed and walked off when it happened and a school friend Ben Williams said (to the rugby boys who had come down to see why an ambulance was at the hockey pitch) "Why are you clapping? He's in a wheelchair" - such sympathy was obviously appreciated, I preceded to go into shock just as the ambulance doors closed. 


14.   Colin McNamara
We were horrible to him. He was a nice guy, genuinely. He was our supply teacher for AS Level Economics. He was forever making spelling mistakes and we pounced upon his weaknesses constantly. We pretended that Will Bailey and I were arch-enemies and constantly fought, it was hilarious every lesson. There were plenty of supply teachers we came across during our time at school but Colin will take the cherry. He didn't half talk some shit but we loved it and made his time with us if not enjoyable, then eventful. On his last day we bought him a tin of potatoes, which the returning member of staff informed us he had left in the staff room. 


15.   The University of Leeds open day that never was
We were allowed to have days of absence to attend university open days in our final years at school, so I duly completed the necessary paperwork and had the appropriate conversations and on the Wednesday (as if there is any other day of the week worth going to Leeds) I went up to the university on the train. I walked from the train station up to the Parkinson building only to discover I had come on the wrong day, I was a week late! However, all was not lost - I went to the business school and explained the situation and someone made themselves available for an hour and gave me some extra material and then advised me that "the best way to get a feel for this place is to just walk around and see what you find" - I went to the union and had a pint in the terrace, got chatting to some random people who thought I was someone else and then I walked around the campus, map in hand - I loved it, I knew it was where I wanted to go and that some mistakes are meant to be made. 


16. Going to Tuscany
Not Ibiza, but Tuscany. That's where my friends and I went to celebrate the end of our A-Levels. It was excellent, and it's not full of old people contrary to popular opinion. We went to a pizzeria nearly every day, got taken to a local football tournament where we shouted English football chants much to all the Italians' amusement, went to a party in the hills at a shack in complete darkness with complete strangers, watched all the girls from our group fall in love with the Italian boys who all drive Fiats, got beaten at football quite comfortably and watched Flath dislocate his shoulder in the pool trying to catch an American football in a swimming pool. Oh, and Emma Tonks losing her virginity in a car (Volvo, I think) to the cousin of a guy she kissed just 3 nights previously. I wouldn't change that holiday for the world. My holiday highlight will have to be when I went to watch the World Cup final (where Italy won on penalties) in a city square in Italy with Dom Davies - I don't think I will ever match that moment as a sporting spectator, it was the craziest night.


17.   A-Levels Results Day
This wasn't about the results, it was about the fact this would be the last day we would all be in the same place at the same time as a year group. We were tight, there was little segregation amongst the boys in our year (girls obviously had their own agendas) so it was a very sad day to know we wouldn't ever have those days again. I won't dwell on it, but it was exciting to know we were all off to where we wanted.


18.   Initiation
Well, you had to 'join' the hockey club at Leeds University beyond paying the membership fee. I continue to be jealous when I hear initiations are going on, under the guise of 'Welcome Drinks'. I won't ruin it for those who may have yet to join a sports club at university but I had a simultaneously terrible and terrific evening, and it's great to know that it is a ritual all other members have gone through (past and present), this rite of passage, a journey of self-discovery with the promise of acceptance and brotherhood. 

I still don't like cat food.


19.   Study to Work LUBS2020
I took the decision to take an industrial placement year, as it was optional within my degree programme and my job prospects weren't all that great so I needed something to bolster the CV. I nearly ended up in Bolton with Reebok - but it would seem fate wanted me to find my feet elsewhere. I took a gamble and it paid off. It took me away from my university year-group and meant I would have a year away from LUUMHC and re-don my Cannock kit for another year. That year massively shaped where I am today and I'm still with SSL.


20.   Falling over on EuroSport
One of the most special and probably best achievement in my hockey career (very loose term!) was playing in the EHL KO16 in Hamburg, and how am I most fondly remembered on this fateful day? The fact that me High 5-ing someone is the first live footage? No. Laney ran into me, I swear. I fell over. I was never destined for great things. The great thing was that so many of the guys I came through the club with were there with me.

21.   LUUMHC 1st Team Captaincy
Chris Emery (departing Club Captain) approached me and asked if I would run for 1s Captain in the upcoming LUUMHC AGM in April 2010. I was reluctant to go for the position as a returning 3rd year - I didn't know over half the team, and I couldn't make the AGM in person so I typed a speech (sending it to Chrissy on Facebook) and ended up being unopposed. So that was it - I was on the commitee, got my hoodie and free entry to Gatecrasher card, perfect -job done. 

I jest. That year was a particularly turbulent time in my life and LUUMHC steered me through that path with a successful campaign on and off the pitch. Too many memories to recall, but the transition from Tour to England Unis or that Sunday night in Birdcage will take some beating. I, reluctantly, have to mention the support I got from Oliver Howick who was forever cheering me up, trying to advise me how to play hockey or toasting Sambuca shots with me. 

A true friend, both Howie and Luxardo.


22.   The Last Summer Ball/Graduating from Leeds
The end of an era. Ended suitably with The Summer Ball (the last event of the university calendar, after all the exams), the informal graduation party. Playing 'Ram the Fat Girl' on the dodgems - so much fun. Jake splitting his trousers and having to put string round his waist to hold them up. Getting the last bus back and sitting on Parkinson steps with a bottle of Champagne at 7am the next morning, quoting Wedding Crashers and reminiscing. Perfect.

I graduated in my LUUMHC club tie, worn every Wednesday night throughout my time at university (and never washed). In my graduation pictures I have the smile of an unrepentant paedophile. 


23.   Getting a real job
I was lucky enough to make enough friends on my placement year that they would have felt bad about not taking me back at Synectics. This was it - I was officially employed, out of education, on an income, had a work phone. No looking back now, I'm managing some of the best projects going, have wonderful colleagues and I'm happy. Onwards and upwards.


24.   Writing a blog
Well that's it. 24 years done. Time to start making more of an impression on the world: write a blog, get creative. It's been fun so far and it's been nice to write posts like this, it makes me think of how lucky I have been and how lucky I still am to have so many more than 24 memories to write about. Here's to the next 24, I hope they are as much fun and filled with love xx

Remembered Doctor Dolittle

I haven’t written for what seems like forever, so apologies on that front – I was busy over Easter and the adjacent week with country-wide commitments. So, what’s new? Not a lot I imagine except you are poorer, a bit more chocolaty and have listened to Jazz Ellington (off of The Voice) – he’s a bit good isn’t he.

This evening (post run) saw me catch up on Game of Thrones Season 2, I invite you to do the same. I am being encouraged by a few friends to read the books but in all honesty I have been adding to my ‘to read’ list for about 18 months and haven’t read more than 4 books in the past 12 months. I know that on this occasion I won’t read the books, I’ll continue to watch the TV – it’s easier. 

And through typing that very sentence, 

I know I am not the boy I used to be.

University pushed me down the route of reading solely for academic endeavours. It took the fun out of it. Curse you Leeds, you gave me a lot but it's only just dawned on me what you might have taken away from me. I want the enjoyment back. 

It wasn't always love at first line. I will always remember the first book I actually enjoyed reading,  It was The Story of Doctor Dolittle. If the only version of Dr Dolittle you know is Eddie Murphy's you don't know Dr Dolittle. Doctor John Dolittle loves animals. He loves them so much that his home and office overflow with animals of every description – imagine that! When Polynesia the parrot teaches him the language of the animals, Doctor Dolittle becomes a world-famous doctor, travelling far and wide to help his friends. 

What's even more charming is that I now know that Hugh Lofting wrote these stories as letters home to entertain his family while fighting in WW1. 

At my primary school we had to read every night and report back on progress made – usually by just saying what page numbers you reached, or whether you finished the book. In my first night I had read 74 pages, which was a phenomenal achievement amongst my peers and aptly rewarded with silence and scepticism – who is this maverick?  I remember I stayed up until about 10.30pm, a privilege only previously warranted for watching Match of the Day at the tender age of 9.

I have since then read lots of books and I will briefly bore you with a snippet of the books I have read which came to mind when thinking about compiling a very short list, a top 5 of sorts if you will:

Digital Fortress – Dan Brown:

I don't care if you like Robert Langdon, I prefer Susan Fletcher. Who wants a symbologist when you can have a cryptographer?!
 

Basically this Brown novel is a tale deception and betrayal in the America's most secret and powerful government organization, the National Security Agency (NSA). Commander Strathmore believes that a former NSA employee has successfully created an unbreakable algorithm, which threatens the security of the nation and the future of the agency itself. Strathmore recognizes an opportunity to turn the situation around to his own benefit. When Strathmore realizes he needs help, he calls in Susan Fletcher. Ah but the plot thickens, Susan uncovers the truth about the NSA's deputy director as the nation's most classified information is in grave danger of being exposed to the world and the life of the man she loves hangs in the balance. What drama!

Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

This is actually a work that has been translated into English (from Spanish). Hidden in the city of Barcelona is the 'cemetery of lost books', full of obscure and forgotten titles that have long gone out of print. To this library, a man brings his 10-year-old son Daniel. Daniel is allowed to choose one book from the shelves and pulls out LA SOMBRA DEL VIENTO by Julian Carax. 


But as he grows up, several people seem inordinately interested in his find. Then, one night, as he is wandering the old streets once more, Daniel is approached by a figure who reminds him of a character from LA SOMBRA DEL VIENTO, a character who turns out to be the devil. This man is tracking down every last copy of Carax's work in order to burn them. What begins as a case of literary curiosity turns into a race to find out the truth behind the life and death of Julian Carax and to save those he left behind. 

It was only curiosity which lead me to read this book in the first place, and sadly I didn't pick it up from a book cemetery - I got it from Waterstones. 

The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

Using alternating first-person perspectives, the novel tells the stories of Henry, a librarian in Chicago, and his wife, Clare, an artist who makes paper sculptures. The crux is that Henry has a rare genetic disorder, which comes to be known as Chrono-Displacement, that causes him to involuntarily travel through time. So when 20-year-old Clare meets 28-year-old Henry at the Library at the opening of the novel, he has never seen her before, although she has known him most of her life - trippy, no?

An elegy to love and loss, it metaphorically uses time travel to explore miscommunication and distance in relationships, while also investigating deeper existential questions.  It is a love story and about a wife who has to cope with his frequent absences and dangerous experiences. It's the only book that has made me cry. Do you need any further aversion?

She has also written a book called Her Fearful Symmetry, which is also well worth a read - particularly if you live near Highgate Cemetery, her presentation of London is something I really enjoyed.

Dracula - Bram Stoker

We actually had to read this at NULS in our AS Level English Literature class but I did enjoy it much more than I had anticipated. Stoker didn't invent vampires, but he's defined their modern form (if you exclude that Twilight rubbish). 
It's a much better story than you think, it's epistolary structured for one - and whilst obviously being primarily a gothic/horror novel it touches on the themes of sexual conventions and the role of women in Victorian society, which interested me at least...  

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J. K. Rowling
You'll have all seen the films or some of them so I wont tell you who he is. But I will say this - this book is fantastic. Whilst drawing the saga to a close, as readers we forget how much we've grown up with Harry. I was starting secondary school when Philosopher's Stone was published (and Harry started Hogwarts), we both have scars on our foreheads and we would both like to believe we had an 'elder wand' at some point in our lives!

J.K. Rowling has written an adult book now, and I'm excited. I'd like to see where she will take me having followed her to Platform 9 3/4 and beyond- I’m keen to see what Harry will let her do now that he’s killed Voldemort (sorry if I ruined that for anyone).

You and I need to get back to basics and into books again. 

Next in the pile for me is John Irving’s ‘A Son of the Circus’ as I want to go to India – should be a good read, this post on the other hand...what were you expecting? x

Just watched Drive.

I’ve decided to keep this entry quite short and sweet, but given opportunities to you (as readers) to go and explore as you see fit. 


We all do it. It was on Facebook. It was just a click. I heard this:

It’s the sort of sound I associate with watching sunsets, coming home. It's so strange how music affects us all differently, I think that is the beauty of art - it's never interpreted in exactly the same way by 2 people, it always differs somehow. You'll all have 'that' song that reminds you of a relationship, a stage in your life or a place for no logical reason. For the life of me I cannot understand why the song Suzie by Boy Kill Boy makes me think of being at a house party on a hill in the middle Tuscany - my god that was some holiday, one for another time perhaps. 


Back to the matter at hand then before I get distracted again (probably by the countless number of DrawSomething games I have consuming my existence)... Sadly the video I watched (from Facebook) has been removed on YouTube but I recognised the 2 people in the video and only then did I realised it was from a film. And like that, Drive was on my LoveFilm list and I have literally just finished watching it.


I added it to my ‘lists’ without really caring about the synopsis, such was the seduction of the track. I was expecting something quite romantic (#softLAD) given the footage I had seen in the aforementioned video. 2 people meeting, driving, kissing then loving. It’s so much more, it's a high-octane film noir!


This is an art film. Its soundtrack (composed and compiled by Cliff Martinez) is what gripped me right from the start - it’s a sexy variation of Parisian electro pop and experimental German influenced music. Refn is nothing short of a genius (deserved Cannes winner) and with minimal dialog Ryan Gosling gives one hell of a performance. An understated talent in this film is Carey Mulligan - she’s also really good in Never Let Me Go, and she’s also in Pride & Prejudice but I haven’t seen that (nor do I want to). However, it doesn’t surprise me that Albert Brooks' performance has gained the most attention from award groups out of the cast.


Its trailer (which I watched in retrospect, and I advise you don’t watch if you plan to actually watch the film) seems to suggest that it’s fast paced and adrenaline fuelled. I personally think that is/was a mistake. It’s not Gone in 60 Seconds. It’s beautifully crafted and enigmatic (Drive, not Gone 60 Seconds), that’s why it is award winning and that’s why I liked it.


Go watch the film. But if you don’t fancy that then get in your car, turn up the soundtrack, drive towards a sunset and pretend you are in L.A. returning home after a day of stunt driving. If that doesn’t entertain you , I don’t know what will but it will certainly engage your imagination and creativity, and that's always a good thing (even midweek) x

Watched Alcatraz and realised I had been greedy.

The latest instalment on our family Sky+ planner is Alcatraz. It is an American television series created by Elizabeth Sarnoff (who wrote stuff for Lost and Deadwood), Steven Lilien and Bryan Wynbrandt (both writers from Kyle XY).

Switching between eras, the series focuses on the Alcatraz prison, which was shut down in 1963, due to unsafe conditions for its prisoners and guards. However, both the prisoners and the guards disappeared and are now being tracked down by a secret government agency.... *ooooo* Produced by J. J. Abrams' Bad Robot Productions, the series stars Sarah Jones, Jorge Garcia (the big guy from Lost), Sam Neill and homegrown talent Parminder Nagra (the girl from Bend it like Beckham who isn’t Keira Knightly or Jonathan Rhys Meyers).

Now, enough about that, let’s take a step back, to the beginning. I’m a big fan of the American TV series genre; namely Heroes, The Wire, 24, Broadwalk Empire and Lost. They all have great casts, great scripts and really take you on their journey - like any non-ITV drama, oh I am cruel!

I had never seen a program like Lost before – it was my first TV love. In a contrast to the way I return to series like League of Gentleman (a comedy that is disgustingly brilliant) and The Mighty Boosh (Slap Bass Jazz Funk with Noel Fielding in a mirrorball suit) I don’t ever want to watch Lost again. It was perfect; it ended in a cloud of dispute from fans across the globe and left lots unanswered and most people confused – a bit like being dumped via text that reads “It’s over, sorry” after a long term relationship, perfectly unrequited. The way every fan wants it to be, they just don’t say that on a forum. If I watched it again, I think it’d be like looking through your first kiss’s facebook profile pictures from 1 to 192 – reverse Darwinian evolution, all manner of wrong.

I have watched one episode of Alcatraz, and I don’t ever want to watch it again - but this time for all the wrong reasons. Who’s this girl?! Where is Jack?! Where is my government agency scandal?! Where are ‘The Others’?! Why is Hugo from Lost here?!

I found myself wanting more twists and turns, and I think it is because – as a consumer – I have been corrupted by all the good work that was put in before I saw Alcatraz. My expectations were ridiculously high. I wanted more than 1 episode could possibly deliver. Has this become the way of all consumers in all markets? We all want more for less, that’s simple economics – not just a supermarket slogan. Gordon Gecko said “Greed is good” – so is greed also good in anything other than Wall Street? In a week where we’re all being told how much worse off we are (Thanks Mister Osbourne), at this stage, I can honestly say we are better off without Alcatraz.

The beauty of any story is to draw you in, submerse you in sympathy for the protagonist then walk with them (hand-in-hand) on their journey of self discovery. Not that it ruins anything, but all we get in terms of flashback from our female ‘Jack’ is that her (law enforcement) partner died. All I could think of was “Boohoo, now where’s Jack Bauer?” – is it a bad thing to have such high expectations? The ‘Government Agency’ is weak, and so far has 2 members and a prison – hardly intimidating or imposing. And why are ‘the world’s deadliest criminals’ so easy to catch?! It’s all too weak, get some balls: smash a plane into a tropical island in a time warp, be zombies, mutants or gangsters, be anything but boring. And don't just use episode 1 to build the most unlikely crime solving partnership in television history - save that of "Wheels and The Angel" from American Dad or Mitchell and Webb's Angel Summoner and BMX Bandit.

I realise I am being unreasonable, I’ll give it one more week to lure me in. But at least I have The Walking Dead to catch up on if I break out of Alcatraz’s lackluster grip. Note to self: I hate prison puns.

Turned my blog post about my London Adventure into a poem.

Why not try something new?

Blog about stuff in rhymes of two.

I’ve always had a knack with verses.

Quick witted couplets don’t need curses,

So I’ll keep it clean and try to be funny

And tell you how London took a lot of my money.

Thursday saw me see good, old faces

Whilst Friday took me to good, old places.

So I’ll start with the former, beginning at Foundation

Where Howie, Chrissy and I recalled in elation

That Alumni weekend is drawing nearer

(And we best book hotel rooms before it gets dearer).

From then it progressed into the usual chat

About how “the club’s changed” and where we were at

In jobs, love and hockey - is there much more?

Then to Soho we ventured - in seek of a door.

Taking a right onto Poland Street,

A buzzer pressed, a woman we meet.

She takes our coats, IDs and Chris’ money

And enter the 3 of us into Milk and Honey.

A setting requiring no banners or press,

It’s an American bar in a candle-lit dress.

No riff-raff. Members only,

Not for a bachelor or London's lonely. 

It has rules for gents, like don’t talk to a broad

As she’ll ask if she’s interested, and won't if she’s bored.

Put your hats on the hooks, just by the door,

Or see yourself leaving without touching the floor.

Cocktails and sausages, just a light snack,

For later we had Bodeon to attack.

Conversation continued in old leathered chairs

Whilst we discovered the joys of Devil’s Shares.

Bourbon, maple syrup, orange juice,

That delicious blend - it’ll leave you loose!

But after ribs, stacked burgers, and seeing double,

Off we went to Player - in search of more trouble.

We joined the cast of "Tinker, Tailor" -

Moustaches, odd hats and even a sailor.

Howie steering the ship, from up on the decks

As more alcohol slipped down turtle-necks.

Overnight intentions at Beckenham Junction

But the eye on the time became lazy in function.

We missed our train home by more than an hour,

The mood took a twist and we lacked the power

To resist a return to see our new pal Manuel,

Our M&H cocktail man - and all was well.

3am drinks and lowering lids

I had to mutter the phrase “Let’s go home kids”.

Work alarm goes off, rookie mistake.

But I hear the other two are wide awake,

They faced work in under an hour!

So I went in with Chris after having a shower

But still in the sweat of last night clothes

And I couldn’t quite fool a passer-bys’ nose.

Navigating London with my phone’s tube map

Might as well have been wearing a “London-noob” cap.

10am, Southbank with a whole school on a trip

Over Westminster bridge, past Big Ben I skip

On to the Abbey - no photos allowed -

But I left there for Whitehall, I just followed the crowd.

Take a snap of Winston,  then folly and lark

En route to Victoria Station, via St James Park.

1pm, Overground to grab my gear, 

No hangover, yet - every reason to cheer.

A change of dress, masking alcohol scent

“Thanks” to K&A, back to ‘the smoke’ I went

Juggling bags at Picadilly Circus, I’m there

Just in time to see BGT in Trafalgar Square.

Then headphones donned, feet now sore

The National Gallery  I began to explore.

It’s a place where you can lose hours of days. 

I advise you get a map, it’s an absolute maze.

West-end stage doors, streets to walk down

From there to arcades then China Town.

4pm, Cha Cha Moon  for dinner,

Then to Size? for a Braves’ snapback, finally. Winner!

Rendez-vous with J at Oxford Street Toppers.

Via typical routes for London's female shoppers

We arrive at The White Horse for a pint with V -

They are the £100k twins from MPD you see.

Exchanging stories over freshly served food and ale,

Then back on the train home with a sandwich now stale.

What fun I recall of these midweek jaunts

A tradition to continue, exploring new haunts.

Being a tourist in the homeland, London has treasures

To find and discover, satisfy all sorts of pleasures.

A hit for the wallet, but one worth taking.

London, calling, and memory making.