It would seem that my will to blog is currently somewhat under the weather. I don’t think that it is a terminal state of affairs, but it has certainly booked an appointment with the GP (that’s the family doctor for the silly American’s out there), just to check things out, maybe get a shot of unnecessary antibiotics, and a sick note so it doesn’t have to play sports. This being the case, I thought I would warn you not to panic if there isn’t a new post for a few days, and I am sure that, should I fall off the edge of the world or something disastrous and messy like that, Moose would say something on her site.

This weekend, all things considered, was not a stunning success. Saturday I waffled around as per usual (I allow myself one day off a week when I can not do work and not feel guilty. This doesn’t stop me not doing work any other day of the week, but I feel guilty then, so it’s all ok). Sunday, now, was meant to be a Good Day. Verging on a Four Penguin ( X 4) day maybe.

Why was I looking forward to it so much? Well, I will tell you. Each week the Times does an offer to see preview showings of films for free. This week was The Jacket, showing at the local independent. I wrote somewhere a rant/comparison about the four cinemas I frequent, but I can’t remember where off the top of my head, so in case you are wondering, the local independent is (1) awkward to get to/get back from, especially late at night, (2) expensive even with student discount/Orange 241, (3) exceedingly uncomfortable seats, and (4) rarely showing films you can’t see elsewhere for half the price and in three times the comfort. And worst of all (5) no toffee popcorn, for shame!

(Oooh, looking at that paragraph I am in awe at how badly constructed it is! Mr Nightingale would be turning in his grave if he could see it. And if he was dead. [Mr Nightingale = phenomenally good secondary school english teacher, an inspiration to many years worth of students myself included, and generally an all round good egg, but rather testy when it came to trying to bash grammar/sentence structure into my brain. He is, the last time I checked, very much alive and still terrorizing, sorry teaching, pupils]. Anyhoo…)

So why go to this cinema then? I did mention that the showing was free, didn’t I? And that I am a student? And that it was a preview, so I could gloat about seeing it before most of the plebs out there?
-checks last few paragraphs-
Yep, all that is in there somewhere. Ok, the gloating is implied, but it was there in my head when I wrote this under the influence of a cup of Assam tea*.

The plan: Get up nice and early on Sunday morning to catch the 10 am bus into the city centre, which will leave us just enough time to get us to the Docks (where the cinema is) for 10.30 when doors open. If we missed that bus, we were, essentially and not very poetically, screwed.

The catalogue of events that caused Sunday to be a Bob of Doom () day and not a Four Penguin ( X 4) day are as follows:
(1) There is a party in our block on Saturday night which was so loud sleep was just not an option till gone 2 am.
(2) The bus was actually on time (:O real shock!). So this isn’t in itself a bad thing, but bear with me here.
(3) On the way to the cinema we see two un-marked police cars. One is a green MGF and the other a gold VW Golf. NOT normal when you consider the average undercover police car is a Vauxhall Astra or maybe a Volvo if they’re feeling snazzy. Again, not a bad thing exactly, just very very odd.
(4) There a three fire engines parked outside the cinema. Once more, odd.
(5) There is a distinct lack of, for example, billowing smoke, running, screaming, hunky firemen dousing the flames, sirens and the like, so we think they are just there for safety for the boat show going on at the Docks.
(6) A very nice lady standing at the door of the cinema turns us away saying “I’m sorry, the film is cancelled today, the cinema is on fire”. Again, there is a lack of the things catalogued in (5), but who are we to challenge her on this?
(7) Hum. What to do? There are now no buses back to the flat because it is VE day and the city centre is totally shut down till the afternoon to allow for the parade. This, by the way, is why if we missed the 10 am bus we were metaphorically shafted.
(8) Which leads to a long walk back home, but it was counted as exercise for the day, so I escaped having to go to the gym (woot!), though it did leave me with a slight blister and a renewed desire to find a replacement pair of shoes for the pair that bit the dust recently.

Putting it all like that, it doesn’t look so bad, but I really really was looking forward to seeing The Jacket, and I got up early for nothing (again, those who know me will testify that I do NOT do mornings).
and
(9) I then found out that a book I had from the library had been recalled, and as I was going to Swindon today, I had to take it back on Sunday, but I needed to photocopy a portion of it just small enough so that I don’t break copyright, but the photocopy machines were hating me, and I used up all my pound coins so now I can’t do laundry for a while, and it pissed me off, and I missed a bus and had to wait half an hour in the cold and…
(10) I repeat, I had to go to Swindon today, which again meant waking up early, and due to noisy people in the flat I haven’t had a proper lie in, in months, and I am behind on all my assignments, and I am grumpy, and I have run out of books to read again, and…

Oh frell, I’m just going to go to shut up and go to bed, because you can’t be enjoying reading this!

Links between last few titles and posts have been:
My Uncle’s name is Nelson = Very upset none of you even tried to guess this one. If you go to the cinema a fair bit, like I do, you will be familiar with the little Orange adverts that pop up. One of them, promoting foreign films, has the little bald one going “Et Bob, est ton oncle” (forgive the spelling, it’s been a while since GCSE french), and the boss-one going “Bob’s you’re uncle? But my uncle’s name is Nelson…” Funny if you are (a) British, or (b) Me and Moose. The link? Well, quite simply I’d been to the cinema that day, remembered again how funny I found it, and made it the title.
Never start a land war in Asia = A slightly left-handed link here. You are recommended never to start a land war in Asia, that’s a given. And if you’re Tony Blair, you are recommended never to start a land war in a Middle East country that borders on bits of Asia, because you will loose a lot of support in a general election. I did mention it might be tenuous. Oh, and for the historically minded of you out there, the date of posting also more or less coincided with the anniversary of the fall of Saigon. Now there was one land war in Asia that was a really REALLY bad idea.

* Really, I was drinking a luuuuuuuuuuuverly cup of Assam tea as I was typing this. (One of) the ways to my heart is a good cup of tea. I really felt for Arthur in Hitchhikers when he couldn’t get a good cup of tea, poor chap.

Quickly, my reaction on Blair and Labour being voted back in: meh. I can’t lie and say that I am overjoyed with the result, but in all honestly it was the best that could be hoped for. Labour’s majority severely reigned in and the Lib Dem’s gaining some ground to make them into more of a viable party. I lied when I said that there would only be one more political post – there will be at least one more brief one when all the seats have been called.

Michael Howard says he will stand down as the leader of the Conservatives at some point in the near future, because he thinks that 67/68 (the age he will be at the next election) is too old to run the country. Let me get one thing clear before I go on: I have no desire ever to see a Conservative government with its current platform. Unless there is a drastic switch and the Conservatives become socialists or something (it could happen, apparently the Republicans and Democrats did it – Abraham Lincoln was a Republican), but I can’t see it somehow.

The thing is this: in an era when people are living longer and longer, and we have a rapidly aging population (see here for some figures), why is it so important to have a ‘youthful’ and ‘dynamic’ leader? The main reason (other than policies) that I didn’t vote for our Labour candidate was because he was the same age as my brother, and far too young at that to be in charge of even a portion of the country. There is a movement ongoing in this country to give people the vote at 16. I can see both sides: at 16 you can leave school, join the armed forces, claim benefit, work full time, pay National Insurance; but you can’t go into a war zone, get married without at least one parents consent, drive a car, or leave home without your parents consent. (See a list of what you can/can’t do at a given age in this country). You can’t see films such as Terminator, Alien, Heathers, The Usual Suspects, Equilibrium, Interview With a Vampire, or Blade 2. It is an odd age, I will give it that, but personally speaking, I wouldn’t wanted to have voted when I was 16. I was far too young. Moose on the other hand feels that voting at 16 (for her) wouldn’t have been a bad thing. If you can’t sit on a jury to decide the fate of fellow beings until the age of 18, why should you be able to decide the fate of your country (albeit at a remove) by voting in an election? As I said, I’m not sure either way. At that age it is a very individual thing: one person would be seen as an adult at 18, others as exceedingly immature.

Which brings me, in a roundabout way, back to the point in hand. How old should a Prime Minister be? Tony Blair was mid-Forties when he took charge, and considered rather youthful for all that. He is now looking a bit rough around the edges, prompting calls for a new leader, but I think that is more to do with 8 years on the job is enough for anyone. Gordon Brown is 54, but (at the moment) seems more capable than the 52 year old Tony Blair. In the States it is more or less accepted that a President is going to be in his early to mid-60’s by the time he gets the job, having put in the time in the senate and so on. You can consider Clinton as the exception, according to the tame resident American Historian. Churchill was 77 when he was Prime Minister for the final time and FDR was 63 when he died (and he was fighting crippling health problems). I don’t really have a conclusion to this, though it is marginally odd that you can still run the country when you are passed the age for mandatory retirement, it just came to my mind as something to be thought about/discussed. So, talk amongst yourselves.

Other bits and pieces:

1. Apparently, Zimbabwe has too many elephants. Times news story.
2. Any archaeologists/anthropologists out there might appreciate this. Renowned anthropologist, Lewis Binford barking like a dog/wolf/hyena.
3. Bryan Singer, he at the helm of the new Superman, has done some short video-blogs for the fan-site BlueTights.net. He comes across as a bit of an arsehole in a few of them though. For true surealism, watch This One. Very very odd.

Moose, and myself took ourselves off to see the 1050 am showing of The Hitchhiker’s Guide today. The Cute Canadian couldn’t get over his shock at going to see a film in the morning – even though it is up to 50% cheaper, quieter, and you don’t have nasty tall people sitting in front of you. His loss. What did I think of the film? Meh. Some enjoyable moments. Martin Freeman was a damn good Arthur, Mos Def was good as Ford, and Sam Rockwell had some good moments as Zaphod. Alan Rickman was an inspired choice for the voice of Marvin, as was Stephen Fry for the Voice of the Guide, but neither of them were used enough. Bill Nighy did a good turn as Slartibartfast as well. I did not like Zooey What’s-her-face as Trillion. Nor did I see the reason for the love story! As for the Humma story arc, that just seemed like it was written as an excuse to get John Malkovic in the film. Totally unnecessary. One of the main reasons I didn’t like this as much as I was hoping, is that I know the books and radio show well, and the BBC 1981 tv production still rules all as far as I am concerned. There were a few giggle moments in the film, but when you compare that to almost continual hysterics whilst watching the first episode of the BBC version last night, giggles aren’t that great.
Two and a half penguins

I got a new pb on both the rower and the treadmill at the gym today. And I equalled it on the X-Trainer. I must be getting a bit fitter! I am now totally knackered and I know I am going to regret it in the morning, but I am starting to get an idea why people do this keep fit thing – it’s a drag to get me to the gym in the first place, but once I am there I (sort of) enjoy it, and if I miss a session, then I feel a bit pants. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was a gym-junkie though!

Most unbelievable celebrity relationship so far: Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (or Avalanche Face as I now have to call her, thank you Jo and Paulette). Apparently she said back when she was 17 “If I did marry, marrying Tom Cruise would be nice…” (I paraphrased a bit, but the meaning was the same). So, does that mean, if I say often enough “I want to date Matthew McConaughey” it will come true?

Got to love that ‘next blog’ button. I spent a good half an hour last night listening to Frou Frou and skimming through what blogspot has to offer. I even found two that got bookmarked into the ‘interesting blogs to look back on when REALLY bored’ folder. I wasn’t overly impressed by the radomness though – a good ten times, I got a blog I had already seen. Considering the number of blogs out there, the odds against this are rather small. It did intrigue me. Whilst I did waste a large chunk of time that I should have spent doing research into computers/archaeology/museums for a large essay due in soon, I did come away with a new pic of Johnny Depp (*drool*) and a VERY comical one of Miss Avalance Face herself.

With regards the title-competition: RIB, yes, you’ve been right both the last times, but guessing where they are from isn’t enough. You also need to tell me what the link is, and there will be a link between the content of the post and the title. You might have to twist your brain 90 degrees to the normal, but there will be a link.

So far I have managed to keep politics out of the blog. By politics I mean the current General Election. I was bored with it the day before it started, and I expect most everyone else is as well. But, it is rather a big deal, and I commented once or twice on the American election, so it would be churlish of me not to at least mention the state of politics in my own country. If it makes you feel any better, I plan that this will be the only election-related post until next week when we get the results. Things might change. There may be an alien invasion or something else, like some other country he feels the need to invade with Bush, that gives Blair an excuse to stop the election. But, failing alien invasion, no more politics after this till Thursay/Friday.

I voted on Friday: well, I put my little cross on two pieces of paper by the correct names (one for local, one for parliamentary), sealed them in their respective envelopes, and put the envelopes in the post box. Now all we need is for the Royal Mail to loose them or something. But I’ve done my bit. I wish that I was happy, but I know we’re going to be stuck with Blair for another 4/5 years. Thing is, and this has been the subject of much debate in the kitchen, the alternatives are just so… pants! The thought of Michael Howard running the country sends chills of fear down my spine, and makes me think I might move abroad sooner than planned. I can’t see Charles Kennedy running the country either. The fact that the Lib-Dem’s stand a Popsicle in Hell’s chance of actually getting a majority not withstanding, he just doesn’t fit the idea of what a Prime Minister should be. Not that John Major was exactly obvious either, but try as I might, I just cannot see a Liberal Democrat parliament running the country. (For you Americans’ reading this, there isn’t really a parallel between our Lib-Dem’s, and your Liberal Democrats, other than that both are in a minority, and (occasionally) speak some sense).

I can’t remember if I voted in the last general election, but that might have been because I was just too young. Nor I am what you would call a political person: I have my own views on what is right and wrong, what I think should happen (totally free health care and good education for anyone who wants it, at least up to and including post-grad, for starters) but no idea how to make those things happen, and not much belief that there is much to choose between the current big 3 (Labour, Conservative, Lib-Dem) when it comes to their ideas on how to get things done. I am, you might say, one of those much talked about, young persons with an antipathy towards modern politics. I also believe though that there is no point moaning about something if you don’t get off your arse and frelling do something about it. Hence, actually voting.

The local’s were a no-brainer really: our council is a Lib-Dem/Conservative split, with (I think), about one Labour and one UKIP person skullking in the background hoping no one will notice and lynch them. As far as that one was concerned, I voted for the dude who I knew would represent my local interests best.

But that left the parliamentary election. Again, my constituency, is a Conservative/Lib-Dem split. The majority was slightly in favour of the Conservative’s last time around, (we’ve had the same MP for as long as I’ve had a passing understanding of what an MP is). It’s harder to predict this time around what will happen, mainly because I am not in my home constituency at the moment, so am missing out on all the canvassing etc, (thank god!), but indications apparently are that it is going to be an even closer race. Apparently we are Lib-Dem target number 10. There is one road that joins Wells and Glastonbury with any directness, and is rather busy as a result. Mum drives it a good ten or twelve times a week, there and back, and she reported to me the other day that one side of the road is solid Lib-Dem posters, the other, solid Conservative. You have to drive to the very outskirts of the constituency, down deserted tracks, before you glimpse even one rather lonely (and most likely, defaced) Labour placard. There are a couple of worrying outbreaks of UKIP signs, but they’re most likely the product of one or two over enthusiastic die-hards. Hopefully.

So, who will the lucky winner be?

1. Conservative candidate: our current MP; does a good job; actually lives in the constituency.
2. Lib-Dem candidate: unfortunate name; now lives in (more or less) the area; already stood in two separate elections elsewhere in the country which, presumably, she lost; god awful website; frankly not doing a good job in persuading me to vote for her.
3. Labour candidate: far too young and good looking to be a politician (see?); local; but really, no. I can hear the meeting now: ok, so we have this seat down in Somerset, we don’t stand a chance, but, oh look! We have this local chappy, he needs some experience, loosing is character building… I have no ideas of his views, his policies, anything. Definitely not. Cute though.

Which leaves a girl in somewhat of a bind: vote for the guy who’s done a good job before, but who (if he wins) would serve to increase the chance of a Conservative win; or for the woman who (on the face of it) shares beliefs closest to my own, but (if she wins) would she do a good job? Then there is the whole tactical voting thing of “a vote for the Liberal Democrats will mean the Conservatives get in by the back door…” A nasty phrase, scare mongering to boot, but with a ring of truth. In the end though, tactical voting is just more than my brain can handle. When all of the outcomes give you chills ranging from faint to full on hypothermia, the best you can do is vote with your conscience. We don’t actually live in a true democracy, but until someone comes up with a better model, voting for the individual who you think can best represent your interests will have to do.

The tiny part of me that revels in the bizarre, does make me wonder what would happen on the international scene if the Conservatives won the election, making Michael Howard the Prime Minister. For starters, the much-vaunted relationship between the US and the UK would undergo some strain, seeing as how Howard is already banned from the White House… On the whole though, I would rather that I never found out.

There is no god.*
Really, and truly, we are alone in the universe. My proof? The following news story. Apparently, Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code was just named book of the year at the British Book Awards. Yes, we truly do live in interesting and wonderous times when The Man Who Can’t Write For Toffee ™ (aka Brown), has one of his most execrable creations named book of the year.

Now if you will excuse me, I am going to go and throw myself out of the window in despair.

*To those not totally familiar with me and my style, apologies to any religious minded folks out there. I mean, as ever, only loving disrespect, not offense with anything I say.