Another Year, Another Year

When I saw the last dregs of 2012 slip away I felt like I had done a pretty good job. Having nailed my exams in May of that year I went on to enjoy a great summer of sport; a summer which culminated in me taking the plunge into the world of employment. The start of third year was tough and was to be a sign of things to come, but for me 2013 couldn't cause me too many problems. Aside from being on one of the lower parts of Edinburgh on New Year's Eve, I felt like I might be standing on top of the world.

Some Comments from University and Home, Literally - Part 2

Since Part 1 was published earlier on, I've slowly lost the enthusiasm for writing this second post. Aside from the fact that I used up most of my good ideas earlier (there was potential for three separate posts in there!) I'm also suffering from post-uni lethargy. But the show must go on and will not let you diehards down tonight! 

We all know that symmetry can be quite beautiful - the more symmetrical your face, the more attractive you apparently are - so I'm going to go with the three section structure that I used earlier - now to try and think three things to write about. Just kidding, I've got a few belters up my sleeve for tonight.

Some Comments from University and Home, Literally - Part 1

It's not everyday that I'll start a blog post in the library but I've decided to take a short break from competition law to write about a few wonderings of mine. Also the table of dark-rimmed classes opposite is getting restless which doesn't help concentration much - more on them to follow. I don't feel like I've been writing particularly well recently so this post is an attempt to rediscover my way with words. This post will come in two parts (I think that might be a first for me?) so keep your eyes peeled for both installments!

The Morning Plan of Action/Madness

So I'm a bit fed up with things at the moment. OK, so I've got my future sorted out and I'm smiling and laughing more than I ever have before, but something just isn't quite clicking at the moment. What I'm trying to say is that I'm boring myself. I'm fed up with not get out of bed when I plan to and when I don't start uni work when I want to. I'm fed up with taking an extra five minutes in the shower just because it's warm. In short, I'm losing patience with myself at a time when I should on top of everything. With all of this in mind, I've resolved to do something about it - I'm going to get out of bed.

Old News, New Future

My voice always sounds that little bit clearer when I write. That's why I have chosen this medium to tell my readers some good news this evening. It also feels fitting that I should have a post in my blog about this. My whole blogging experience has mapped a huge numbers of changes in my life over the years and I feel that the first page in my new chapter should be on Ramblings of a Twenty-Something.

I might as well just get on with it then because I fancy getting to bed after a long day in the library. Tomorrow marks three weeks since I received the best phone call I have ever received in my life. I knew I was getting the call but I wasn't sure what the person on the other end was going to say - yay or nay? Thankfully it was the former as I became the delighted recipient of a traineeship offer. I haven't stopped smiling since.

A tonne of stuff has happened in the last three weeks which I don't need to tell the world about. I am, however, at liberty to say that I am the happiest I have ever been and have never had quite as much self-confidence as I do now. Just a couple of months ago I was fretting about what I was going to do with my future. Fast forward to now and, well, you get the picture I think.

The reason why I didn't tell everyone? It doesn't really matter all that much now. I didn't want to sound like I was bragging at a time when people hadn't heard back after applications. I also don't like being the centre of attention. I told the people who I wanted to tell and then decided to let it come out on its own eventually. Then I came to tonight I just felt that I needed to let it all out! Something felt right about me putting together this post.

So that's me. I know that others are still waiting to hear back and others are unsure about what they are going to do over the next few years. It will amaze how how the right thing pops up when you want it hard enough though. Trust me.

Thanks for reading.

Martin.

Best Album of 2013

I am not a great one for getting involved in reviews. I don't particularly enjoy reading reviews in newspapers because I only end up disagreeing with what's written; it's amazing how often I think other people are just wrong. With this in mind, I am going to tell you very briefly what my favourite album of 2013 is and why. Feel free to not read or disagree - goodness knows I would do one of those two if I was in your position.

I've bought a load of music this year. This is not really any change from the norm really but I've embraced MP3 downloads this year more than ever before and have had to get an iPod with a bigger capacity as a result. Up until this week I didn't really have a favourite album of 2013 because I listen to such an eclectic mix of music that it's difficult to nail down a 'favourite' across genres. However, these last few days my ears have been treated to the most brilliant music I've heard for a long time. To put my choice into context here are my 'other' favourite albums of 2013:

• Bad Blood - Bastille
• Anna - The Courteeners
• Days are Gone - Haim
• Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die! - Panic! At The Disco
• Modern Vampires of the City - Vampire Weekend
• Paramore - Paramore
• The 1975 - The 1975

I should point out that those are just the albums that I have enjoyed all the way through and are exclusively releases from this year. For an example of other music I've been listening to a lot this year, I have delved further into Elvis Costello's back-catalogue and been handsomely rewarded for it. Katy Perry has also been doing a lot of 'roaring' in my ears recently as well - one can only wish that was a euphemism.

Anyway, onto the big one. I heard the first single from this album last week and hated. I thought it was a bit weird and, as it was played on the radio programme that is supposed to wake me up in the morning, I was not in a very good place to appreciate it. I persisted though and £4.99 and many hours later I have come to the conclusion that Lorde's album, Pure Heroine, is simply magnificent. Listen to it and listen to it a million more times and then try and disagree with me. I ain't no professional music reviewer but I think you'll find I'm right - at least I sound like one...

Thanks for reading, listening and agreeing.

Martin

Re: The Lads' Mags Debate Continues

As I mentioned the last time this blog went live, I only occasionally follow up on old posts. It is an even less common occurrence for me to write a response to my own post but that it what I'm going to do briefly this morning. In light of some of the responses that I got about my most recent post on the lads' mags debate, I feel that it's important to clarify and expand some of the points that I made last time out.

The Lads' Mags Debate Continues

Before getting on with my post, I would like to point out that this is the earliest that I've ever written on my blogs since the dawning of time - I'm usually up at this time but I'm not usually hacked off by something at quite such an early stage. It's also a rare occasion for me to follow up on an old post but this morning I was once again faced with the lads' mags debate that I so hoped had gone away. Kat Banyard once again managed to annoy me this morning with her infuriating views on lads' magazines, likening them to pornography and arguing that there is "extensive evidence" to suggest that these publications are fueling sexism and violence against women. To repeat what I said last time she ruined my morning: what a load of rubbish.

Five Things I Learned Today

I'm told that you have your best ideas when you're not trying to think about something. So, for example, when you're sitting on the bus or train staring out the of window you might realise the solution to the problem you're having with an essay. Or when you're getting ready to go to bed and suddenly the plot of a film you didn't understand suddenly becomes really obvious to you. My recent idea came as I was walking to class today, with the only things on my mind being Panic! at the Disco's new album blaring in my ears and making sure I wasn't clipped by a bus as I crossed the road. Maybe that's why it's such a good idea?

Notice of Not Quitting

I was walking back to my flat last night after a long day at work when it occurred to me that I've not blogged in a long time. This, of course, has happened before but never have I felt such a profound feeling of losing a part of my identity as I felt when I started thinking back to the lofty days when I was producing (at least) two posts a week. And when I thought about it a bit more - the walk from the train station to the flat can sometimes drag on a bit - I realised that there are so many things that I don't do anymore that I was proud of or that made me happy. Heck, it would be nice to be able to make myself happy again without having to rely on other people.

This is the Fourth Time I've Done This!

There will be no video tonight. That, ladies and gentleman, should be the most celebrated sentence on the whole of the internet this evening. The relief that I can feel is, in a weird time-shifting kind of way, almost palpable. It's not that I don't think my video about reading Crime and Punishment was not a success, it's more that I'm almost sure that I am one of about three people who have watched it until the end - and I was in the video.

Anyway, onto tonight's post. There is no real agenda for what lies ahead in the next few hundred words so do not expect to be enlightened as you read on - I would be spoiling you if I changed your life every time you read ROATSomething. Tonight I stand at the precipice of my fourth year at university and what might easily be the most defining twelve months of my life. I guess that is what I should write about then?

To the Man Who Sent Me on My Way

Ramblings of a Twenty-Something

Blogger

Somewhere on the Internet

3rd September 2013

Dear Mr Heaney,

                       It is not very often that the news affects me anymore. In a world of war, crime and political agenda, it seems that the news is given to us from the same script every night with just the names and places changing. Once in a while there is a story that pulls away from this routine; a story that makes me feel something. When I heard about your passing last week on the news, I felt something.

When I was first introduced to your work back in my high school days, I was only partly aware of poetry, or at least the power of poetry. I am embarrassed to say that I tried my hand at writing verse before your work came to me - suffice to say my inadequacy was placed under a glaring spotlight. However, after I had spent some time with some of your most poignant and powerful pieces, my inadequacy became became less important and your captivating rhyme and reason took centre stage - I learned so much from you.

You will be as sad as I am when I admit that I have not penned a single verse since I was in high school. University, or at least what I am studying there, has drawn my creativity to the back-burner, with only the flickering embers of inspiration coming to me now and again. I have tried, do not get me wrong, but the words just do not come.

I am not Irish and my experience of the Troubles is based on what I see happening in your country today, rather than what happened at the time - I was also not brought up in the countryside. In short, our stories are so very far apart that is begs the question as to how your words have resonated with me so much. It might have been the way that they were taught to me or the way that they were discussed with me. It might have been the way that I was given your poetry to devour, to take home, to make my own. It might just be that your work came to me at the right time in my life. I cannot put my finger on it but maybe that is the beauty of our time together.

In the five or so years since I started writing this blog - around about the same time that I started looking at your poetry - your words have provided the sub-heading for what writing means to me. This blog, and the one before it, represents 'my place of clear water' - if you had not told me that I never would have known. Some of your words have stuck with me  over the years without me ever having to go back and look at them. I believe that this is the final verse of Personal Helicon:

Now, to pry into roots, to finger slime,

to stare, big-eyed Narcissus, into some spring

is beneath all adult dignity. I rhyme 

to see myself, to set the darkness echoing.

In those four lines you capture the coming-of-age story that I have been writing for myself since I was first introduced to you. I thank you for starting that story for me and may your words be with me and a million others for decades to come.

Yours sincerely,

Martin Smail

Anchoring with Music

We are all addicted to music. Find me one person who does not listen to music regularly and I'll find you a Scottish person who doesn't complain about the weather. It might be rap, pop, rock, house (what is that by the way?) or the backing music to a TV advert, but whatever it is we love it and can't get enough of it. It is little wonder, therefore, that music can play with our emotions and moods as much as it does. It's something that has been written about a lot, at least in the places that I look on the internet, but I've decided to blend the idea of emotive music with my (recently waning) interest in Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP). I have mentioned this in the past - have you not been reading!?

(Crime and) Punishment by Video

It's been a while since I last showed my face. When I first started ROATSomething, I said that my posts would be more diverse, both in content and form. Unfortunately my writing appears to have stagnated and all posts come in the written form as well. For today's post I decided to break the mould and go for a video blog with a little bit of humour and a little bit of something that isn't seem deep personal stuff. As the video is more than ten minutes long I'm going to stop typing, but I hope you enjoy what I have to say for myself.

The title to this post now explains itself because I know that must have felt like a bit of a punishment to some - ten minutes is a long time to listen to me. I'll try and be more concise in future. Thanks for watching!

Martin

A View of Myself Through the Looking Glass

"I am what I am, and what I am is what I have made myself". Those profound words were typed out over four years ago by the same fingers that write this post tonight. The phrase made a reappearance in a rather narcissistic (and poorly written) post over on the younger brother of this blog, Ramblings of a Teenager, in 2011. 

The line popped back into my head when I was watching House earlier today, when one of the characters said that 'we are who we are'. I then set out on a mission to find the place that I first wrote those words to find out the context and mindset that they were developed in. Safe to say I was not ready for what I found.

Slipping Back to Normal Again

So it's been over a week since I got back from Salzburg and I'm now at the point where I feel like I was never away. The only obvious thing that reminds me that only a short while ago I was there is that I'm yet to find a safe home for the certificate I received at the end of the summer school so it remains on my desk. Of course there are the many (many, many) photos that I can go and look at any time but otherwise things are back to what I would call 'normal'. However, it is this normality that I resolved to move away from when I got home - and I'm going to try and stick to that resolution.

Why Home Is Not Always Where the Heart Is

We're told that home is where the heart is. I used to think that was completely true as well, not even hesitating for a moment to think that it could be anywhere else. Today I found out that although one's home will always be in one's heart, the converse it not always completely true.

Shared Experiences: Salzburg and Beyond

In my last post I talked about 'shared experiences' but I didn't really get into detail on them. In this short post (which is being written on the train to Munich airport) I want to look at them in a little more detail, sharing what I believe they are and how powerful they can be. 

The End or Just the Beginning?

All good things come to an end. That is a phrase that is brought out as a way of trying to deal with (and explain) the sadness/disappointment that we feel when a good thing actually does come to an end. The thing is that is brought out far too often, to the extent that I'm not sure that a lot of people know what a 'good thing' is anymore. Thankfully I think I found out over the last couple of weeks.

Time to Reflect

Reflection is not easy. Then again, nothing worth doing is ever 'easy' in the strict sense. I then undertake the coming period of reflection with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. This post, which I set in the context of what has been an eye opening experience at a two week summer school in Salzburg, represents what should be the start of a series of posts about some important lessons I've learned this summer.

Re-Learning, Learning

So it's been a while since we were last here together. Asked whether you come here often, you would unfortunately have to answer 'no', holding back the tears all the while as we consider our time apart. Truth is that I've fallen out of love with a lot of things recently due to work and the passing of another year at university - sadly blogging was one of those things. We've been here before though so I'm not going to bore you - any more than I need to anyway. Today's post, which is being written from a rather wet Salzburg, it about learning or, more specifically, re-learning the easily forgotten art of learning.

Suppression vs Reappraisal - Which is the Way Forward?

As regular readers of this blog will know, I have taken up a real interest in psychology related things in the last three or four months. That interest was somewhat stinted by my exams but since they finished I have been able to explore some stuff in more depth. This post represents the beginning of what will hopefully be an interesting 'hobby' over the summer for me that should produce some (hopefully interesting) posts for you to peruse as your pleasure. 

The topic of this post comes from a lecture that I found on the iTunes U service that comes with the iPad. I have found some great content on there and I recommend anyone who has access to it to spend a while looking through the catalogue to see if anything grabs your interest. Since I started looking through the content with this interest in anything related to psychology, you can imagine why series of lectures entitled 'How to Think Like a Psychologist' caught my attention. The only one I've watched so far is by a professor from Stanford University called James Gross who was talking about emotion regulation.

Why Don't I Write More Often?

I think it's about time that I wrote a bit more. I've been trying to write that opening sentence for the last week or so to no avail. Reason? Well I'm not all that sure. First of all there is the fact that I couldn't decide what to write about - a fairly fundamental element of this whole process. Then there is the fact that I just couldn't be bothered writing. It's not that I don't care about the stuff that I might write about, it's just that I don't have  the drive to put anything down in words. Those aren't really reasons though so I had to do some thinking. It turns out that I've got something of a complex.

Lads' Mags are mere Pornography? Give me a Break

One of the more enjoyable sides of studying for law exams is the heightened urge to argue about anything and everything. In the last three weeks in particular I've found myself climbing the steep ladder to my high horse over lots of stuff - and some stuff that I don't even care that much about. Thankfully this didn't suddenly stop after my last exam and this morning, as I tucked into an eclectic mix of Bran Flakes and Cheerios, something on Breakfast (no Susanna this morning sadly) really got me going. It appears that a legal challenge is in the offing regarding the display of so called 'lads' mags' in newsagents and supermarkets. According to the Lose the Lads' Mags campaign, the front covers of these magazines cause offense to shoppers, children and employees alike. What a load of rubbish.

Just One Emotion at the End of Another Exam Diet

It's been a tough couple of months for one reason or another. Well actually it was really only one reason: exams. On Friday I sat the last of three massive exams - probably the most important I've ever done - and one emotion really marked the occasion a lot more than I thought it would: a real sense of emptiness. When I look back on the last few weeks in particular I start to question whether I've ever really wanted my exams to be over just because they were a nuisance or they were getting in the way of watching crap on the TV. When it comes down to it, the thing that I wanted the most was for them to be done well, rather than just done. Maybe that explains my feeling of emptiness.

Reporting from the Exam Front Line

I know I said that I wouldn't blog over exam period but I can't face any more revision for tonight. It's that mentality that had dogged me over the last week or so, just at the time when I've needed a little bit extra. Having said that I've been giving 'a little bit extra' for the last month or so; it's hardly surprising that I'm feeling the effects. So with that in mind, I'm going to share a few thoughts tonight about exams and penumbra of stress, doubt, anxiety and so forth that surrounds them.

Some Recent Thoughts

I've forgotten how to write. Okay, so that is not strictly true but it has been a long time since I slipped on my blogging gloves and got down to some good ol' ramblin'. I would be lying if I said my lack of blogging recently has left a gaping hole in my life because I've been so busy with university that at times the whole thing seemed like a distant memory. Then someone asked me why I hadn't posted for a while and realised that I might quite like to spend half an hour tapping out some recent thoughts for you to chew over. So here they are: some recent thoughts.

The (Necessary) Day of Cleansing

This time last week I earmarked today as being the starting point for exam preparation. This time this week I can report to you that no such start has been made. Nevertheless, it has been a very productive day and I feel a lot more set for making that start than I did after the week that I've just had. Safe to say that I got something out of my system.

Reflections on Recent Changes and Turning 21

The last week and a half of my life have been nothing short of peculiar. I discovered something that is potentially life-changing, felt empowered by it for a few days and then struggled to sustain it thereafter. Thankfully I think I'm on the way back up again because those of you who have talked to me recently or read my last couple of blogs will know that something has changed in me slightly. I'm certainly not enlightened nor have I have reached a different level of understanding - I'm just happier than I was this time two weeks ago.

Why Feel Guilty About What Gives You Pleasure?

It turns out that Scarlett Johansson is very attractive. Until last week I was aware of the people saying complimentary things about her but I had never really seen her before, let alone been given the opportunity to make up my own mind. In short, I was told she was beautiful and I took that at face value. This post isn't really about that though; I just thought I would share my new found knowledge with you. Today I'm going to write about 'guilty pleasures' and what they mean to me. 

The Great Delusion

It was pointed out to me the other day - in fact, on many occasions - that my posts are usually quite bleak affairs. This is partly by design and partly a reflection of what my mood is when I write, particularly recently. If it's not been one thing that's been getting me down recently, then it's been another thing. Then I read a book: a book that has shifted my view of things ever so slightly.

Night Time, Write Time

The title is cheesy but it rhymes - what more do you want? I got in about half an hour ago after being at the pub with a few mates and thought that I might be able to get a little bit of the work that I've got to get done for tomorrow out of the way. I picked up said work and put it down almost immediately, safe in the knowledge that it will still be there in the morning. What, then, is the next best thing to do when I can't be bothered doing university work? Blog of course - it's been a while since I've had a good proper ramble about nothing in particular.

Look Into My Eyes

Someone once said that they wanted my eyes. I was reluctant, as one would be, but considered the options nevertheless. What was I going to get in return? What were they planning to do with my eyes? What would I do without them? Where does one acquire new eyes? These were all of the questions that didn't go through my head as I sat on a bed with a long-lost female friend. I look back on that now and wonder (a) why do I remember her saying this to me? and (b) was she only in it for the eyes? I remember her saying it to me because I remember lots of useless things. Was she only in it for the eyes? I've never heard of that before, but knowing my luck it was probably as good as I was going to get.

Angel on the Train

I've been meaning to write this post for a while. At the same time, I think I've written this post time and again without knowing it. I'll keep it short because I'm pretty tired. I was on the train earlier coming back from 5s. The train is always busy on a Wednesday and getting on at the first stop after the two major stations invariably means that I have to stand. So there I stood, ankles aching and knees pulsing. Out of the corner of my eye (lies - she was right in front of me) was a beautiful girl - classically beautiful. To give you an idea, she looked like Michelle Monaghan (of 'Heartbreak Kid' with Ben Stiller). Shame she was sitting next to at dork who she appeared to be fond of.

Michelle Monaghan: classically beautiful.

This was the kind of guy who wears lanyards (note the plural) and tight jeans. In terms of his most distinguishing feature, he looked a little bit like I did when I was taking my first tentative steps in puberty: spotty with a bad hair style. OK, so the latter remains a common part of my appearance but this guy looked like he should have been in school uniform rather than skinny jeans and a Ralph Lauren jumper - yes, I'm pretty observant. I think you get the picture that I was feeling jealous for the duration (about 20 minutes) of my train journey with love's young dream. Jealously is a cruel mistress.

The reason why I opened this post by saying that I've been meaning to write this post for a while is not because I've seen this girl before. No, it's because I've often found myself in situations with an 'angel' but never found the need to write about it. To be honest I was looking for a post to write tonight because I've only written law stuff today - this girl (or at least my similar experiences) seemed like a good topic to go for.

We've all done it when we've been on a train or in a coffee shop. It's often good fun to take a few minutes out of your life to wonder what might be before realising that yours is the next stop and it's time to alight back to reality again.

Thanks for reading,

Martin.

Baby, Baby, Baby? No

Until about six months ago I didn't really have to deal with people. Prior to getting a job I didn't ever have to talk to people that I didn't know except at university or, well, in fact that was the only time really. I'm the kind of person that tries to cut down as much as possible on potentially irritating conversations - i.e. small talk. Two examples: I use the ticket machine at the train station instead of getting my ticket on the train and always use the self-serve machines in shops - as irritating as they can be, anything is a step up from someone talking about the weather. Imagine my disgust when I found myself on the other side of the counter talking about how cold it is outside to hundreds of strangers! That's not what I'm here to talk about today though - I'm happy with the way that I talk to people. The topic of today's post is more about a certain type of person that I occasionally serve - the young parent.

The Valentine's Routine

I've started writing this Valentine's Day post two or three times now and each time it just sounds like I'm moaning about being single. The furthest I got into it was a story about a couple I saw the other day saying goodbye to each other. As they went their separate ways, the woman wiped her lips and the man had a spring in his step. However I realised that this observed contrast in post-kiss reactions didn't go so much to the heart of my dislike for Valentine's Day - it went much deeper. The moral of the story (which took up two or three paragraphs so you'll be glad that it's been dropped) I found was this: in a relationship it is often the case that the two people are not on the same page. It's quite sad and results in weeks and months of people's lives being lived under false pretenses. However, that isn't what I wanted to write about so I've cut it short(er) so I can get on with the task in hand.

An Induced Dream and a Face from the Past

With sleep deprivation (eventually) comes a good night's sleep. With a good night's sleep comes some very realistic dreaming. These are not things that I get a lot - that is both a good night's sleep or realistic dreams - but when they do come around they are invariably interesting. Take the one that I had the other night. I'll set the scene a little below in terms of the 'real world' build up to this dream but the gist is that I was in a group of people hiding from something and I was seeking solace in an old friend - an ex to be precise. If that doesn't want to make you put down OK and Hello! and pick up your copy of Freud then I don't know what will!

Cruel Cycle or Nasty Habit?

So I said that I would write tonight and then I looked at the time. It might be early for some people but the way my days go, 11pm is getting close to the time when I stop to function and start to hear voices telling me to go to bed - that might just be me talking to myself again though. I might have taken a little bit of artistic license there though because it's not yet 11 as a start to write this post, so if I get a move on I'll be in bed before I fall asleep on my laptop.

Tonight's post is a bit of a repeat. You know when you look at the TV guide to see what's on, think there's a new series of your favourite programme, only to see the damn little 'R' at the top, ripping your dreams into shreds? Well that's pretty much the gist of this post which is about my constant flips between productivity and stagnation. If you think you have read this post before then I'm sure there's a repeat of Top Gear or Mock the Week on Dave that you've seen 3 times already that you might prefer to see for a 4th rather than read my dross - please stay, I don't have adverts (yet).

One Month Down

I'm running through a forest. I'm running away from something - but I'm not sure what. I keep stumbling over tree stumps and tree branches are lashing me in the face, cutting new cuts and deepening old ones. I know my legs are below me - how else would I be getting anywhere? - but I can't feel them and have to rely on guesswork as to where I'm putting my feet. Something warms breathes down my neck like the heat from the back of a city bus. I recognise the pungent smell but I can't quite place it - I've smelt it before, I know I have. Then I see the end of the forest, the light in the distance slashed by the trees that stand between me and potential freedom. My legs are still going, somehow, and my heart seems to be the only thing in my body that is functioning - how many beats per minute is normal? The edge gets closer yet still seems so far away, the pungent smell and warmth of a thousand ovens still close behind me. Then I burst out of the forest into the daylight. It's raining but I'm sodden from my own sweat and tears so I hardly notice. As I stumble to a stop I turn instinctively to look back into the deep darkness that lays behind me. But nothing is there, just the rustle of the trees in the soft wind and a few broken branches that I left in my wake.

Hazard by name...

If last night's incident at the Liberty Stadium wasn't odd enough to watch, today I find myself agreeing with Pat Nevin - now that is odd. I went to bed thinking about Eden Hazard's alleged kick on the Swansea ball-boy and I was greeted with the same thoughts this morning as I made my customary cycle through the news channels. I'll say at the outset of this post that I'm on Hazard's side. This is mostly down to the fact I'm a Chelsea fan but that's not the only reason - I would probably be on the side of most footballers in this situation. The main reason why I feel very strongly about this is because of the reaction and the type of person that the boy (although at 17 he would have to pay an adult fare on my local bus) portrayed himself as.

Firstly, let me explain why I agree with Nevin. I don't particularly like the guy; in fact, I find him to be a particularly annoying pundit. It should also be noted, for those less aware of football in general, that Nevin is himself of the Chelsea fraternity - maybe take what he says with a pinch of salt. Here's what he said:

 

Yes he's got a slightly annoying, whiny voice but what the basic part of what he said is true. The boy shouldn't have been rolling around on the ground. Hazard did not try and kick the guy (he's all grown up now) who was meant to be doing the simple job of returning the ball the goalkeeper. I heard a football agent's view on this earlier who first of all noted that at 17 you shouldn't be a ball-boy. After all, ball-man sounds just wrong. Secondly, he said that it shouldn't be up to him to make the decision to time-waste in such a game. Granted Chelsea were getting nowhere, but Hazard wanted to keep pushing and, as a Chelsea fan, I can only commend him for that. In fact it might have been a breath of fresh air if the whole team had showed a little bit of fight last night.

I got side-tracked with a dig at my team's poor performance last night but I'll quickly sum up what I'm trying to argue here because I need to get on with something else. Hazard shouldn't have got himself involved - that's a given - but he did and so what happened is a reality. Yes, he should get a 3 game ban for violent conduct; if he'd kicked a Swansea player then I wouldn't expect anything less. However, the ball-boy acted disgracefully and I don't have any qualms about sticking up for Hazard who has received more bad press this morning than David Cameron has since his speech on Europe over a day ago. Pretty impressive for someone who was just trying to do his job - Hazard that is, not Cameron. Also, a note on the ages of the two involved. As I've noted, the ball-boy is 17. Hazard himself is only 22 - only a year or two older than me. It's not like he kicked a 10 year old now is it?

Sorry this post was brief and biased and everything that is wrong about the Internet culture but I've got to get away and I just had to get that off of my finger tips before I exploded!

Thanks for reading,

Martin

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

One of the weirdest parts of my recent essay writing was the prevalent fear of plagiarism. There was this constant guilt that I was writing something that I hadn't come up with but when I read over things again I had given everyone the credit they deserved and the only times I hadn't was when it was a 'commonly known fact'. I found that phrase before I properly started writing to make sure that I was footnoting everything and everyone that I should, while also being very wary of avoiding footnoting everything. 'OH! I've used a full-stop, who was the first person to ever use a full stop?' - you get the picture. Oddly enough, this post is not even about plagiarism but the fact that I used a Rolling Stones lyric as my title got me thinking about it. So I'm going to give them the credit they deserve by putting the song below. It also means that you can listen to it as you read the rest of this ramble!

The End is in Sight

What a difference a week makes. I was sitting on this very chair this time last week worrying about the fact that I only had one essay finished, another getting there and one that wasn't even started. I now sit here with 2 done and one more following not far behind and that's a good feeling. I probably shouldn't be writing this tonight because some of my peers will read this thinking that they've got a little way to go yet - but I have my reasons. Firstly I didn't fancy doing any substantial work on the day of my deadline because I think that would result in an ironic death by stress. I've also got an all day shift on Sunday at work and I couldn't bare the thought of spending all day in a supermarket worrying about my essays while everyone went on with their lives, buying crap they don't need - if anyone asks I didn't say that.