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March 1st 2004

Well, I've decided that there were enough votes to make Crazy Diary Poll Man permanent, so from today onwards I'll be putting up a new poll every Monday, hopefully based on my diary entries in some way. Also, because I couldn't get the html for the previous format, there'll be a link instead. Today's is about Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, which last night won 11 Oscars (it won every category it was nominated for). I can't say I'm unhappy: it's a damn good film, my favourite ever. But seriously, what is Cinematography? And there weren't many people watching last night who are disgusted that LotR wasn't nominated for Sound Editing. Because no-one really knows what it is - going away from a film saying; 'The sound editing was fantastic!' is not generally regarded as a compliment. But anyway, it was a great result, and the lads have done us proud, and at the end of the day, everyone involved gave 110%.

March 2nd 2004

Surely it's ironic that, on the way up to the library today, I slipped on the grit? Let me set the scene. A few days ago, it was very icy, so the powers that be poured Evesham High's consignment of grit for this year on the steps up to our library, meaning that we didn't slip, but also meaning that the library carpet has been replaced by a gravel flooring, and that many pupils lost their shoes, socks - and in one case, leg - in the grit. And although the ice has gone, the grit still remains. Yesterday I didn't really get the chance to write as much about the Oscars as I'd like, so I'll remedy that today, based largely on the fact that I saw the shortened version last night (I wasn't man enough to stay up until 5 in the morning when the Oscars were being awarded, the other day). I have to say that Billy Crystal was fantastic - even though I only saw parts of his hosting, due to the fact that the programme I watched was about half the length of the actual thing, he was still great - he opened with footage of him watching a film, with a video camera set up next to him (brilliant), then he was sucked into the film, and played parts in all the major films up for nominations. One particularly funny scene was where he was Legolas in LotR, and there was a battle going on, when Michael Moore came on screen saying; "This is a fictional battle..." etc. The Oliphaunt that Billy was riding crushed him, which won applause from the audience. Then BC sang songs about all the Best Film nominees - LotR to the tune of that Sound of Music song about favourite things (he apologised to Julie Andrews before starting), Mystic River to the tune of Old Man River, Seabiscuit to the tune of Goldfinger, and I can't remember the rest. His voice is good enough not to make me cringe most of the time, which was nice. I've been kind of a fan of BC since seeing him in Analyze This, which he did very well, although the other films I've seen him in - When Harry Met Sally and America's Sweethearts - were not briliant. He did very well in WHMS, but I didn't like the ending, and America's Sweethearts was ridiculous. Speaking of which, Julia Roberts' tribute to Hepburn (I can't remember which) was pretty poor - every now and then he stopped to say 'yeah' for no apparent reason. Well, that's enough Oscar until next year. But keep voting.

March 3rd 2004

So, I did it. I reorganised my diary, so that it's now chronological from top (those of you who aren't sure what that means, you can now find out). I know I've been told that that's not the way blogs 'should' be organised, but I've intentionally made this website unorthodox, so I'll continue. It just makes far more sense, when there are so many archive entries. For a blog like Doug's, where there aren't so many entries, it makes sense to do it like he does. But when you're reading mine and there are inter-diary references (as there often are) it gets very confusing, if left as it was. So basically, the latest entry in the archives will be at the bottom of the first archive page. But if you check this page every day, there shouldn't be a problem...

I've promised Simon for a while now that I'd review Diary of a Provincial Lady, since I finished reading it a while ago, but I haven't got round to it. Basically, it's one of Simon's favourite books, so I thought I'd give it a read myself: it's a diary by a young mother in the 1920s (I think). As a fictional diary, it makes sense to compare it with the Adrian Mole series, which are largely funnier, have better characters and, in short, I prefer. But perhaps that's because I have more in common with Adrian Mole than with the Provincial Lady - I'm male, a teenager, living in a similar time (well, he lived during Thatcherism... and, to be honest, it's the Thatcher bits that I understand the least... all this fuss about Falklands). Perhaps if I was a young mother in a 1920s society, I would find the book a lot funnier. As it was, I certainly didn't dislike the book enough to stop reading it, but didn't like it enough to read the sequel(s). In fact, it was pleasant enough, but I'd find it a lot easier to write a harshly critical review of it than a praising one (and they're so much more fun to write, too). For instance, she occasionally capitalised words to highlight them: this would have been amusing if done once or twice, but it was done on every page. Also, she put 'Query' in most entries: this got boring after a month of it. The one way in which this is better than Adrian Mole is that Sue Townsend often uses irony that is too obvious, and thus not very funny. Actually, there is another way in which Provincial Lady is better: the diary entries start on my birthday.

March 4th 2004

So, I was searching for "Crazy Snake Man" to see what came up, and it seems that liking that speech and being a Christian come hand in hand. I found two pages that weren't just Friends-quotes sites, and both those people were Christians in a big way. Which was cool. Cos I am too. And apart from an inability to spell different, she talks some sense. Simple phrases like 'I love Jesus' - can't disagree with that. In fact, those of you who like to read random blogs (and let's face it, if you're reading this, you probably do), you might still be able to find her site here. Also, she was writing about the Passion of Christ, which reminded me that I want to. But I don't have time right now... so watch this space...

Wow! This girl has more in common with me than I thought... although she appears to be weirder... she likes LotR and the Beatles, and this is a quote from her: "i felt like venting about how stupid english class is". Could she be more right? (Sorry. Last time I do that, I promise). And (I hate to labour the point) she does maths and chemistry as well as english. Like I do.

Speaking of chemistry, Mrs. Lungley said last lesson something along the lines of "I love Chandler." I haven't put any exclamation marks there because they are not enough to express the exclamation Mrs. L puts into every phrase. Now, I didn't tell her about Crazy Snake Man - she could have been talking (screaming) about any Chandler - Raymond Chandler, for example. Or that kid I saw in Nottingham who was called Chandler. I didn't want to make a fool out of myself, did I?

So... the Passion of Christ (have I ever made so many separate entries on one day?). First of all, I think that's it's absolutely fantastic that Mel has had the courage to make the film at all, considering: it's a great inspiration. What occurs in the film is a portrayal of the single most important thing that has happened since the creation of the world. It marked the point where we can be freed from punishment, where we can access heaven and be forgiven. It also is a point where God's love was made available, equally, for all - Gentiles and Jews. Hopefully Mel will get this across in his film, and it will touch people other than Christians - because, of course, the worry is that only Christians will see it, and he'll be preaching to the converted. Another worry is all this anti-Semitism garbage: he's making a film about what actually happened, no way is he going to remove the truth just to appease Jews. Why doesn't he call Jesus Chang to please the Chinese? Or make him Buddhist? Or female? Or gay? Or all four? It's absolutely ridiculous - far from spreading anti-Semitism, it's far more likely to spread anti-Christianism (if that were a word), since people who haven't seen the film (and some who have) will assume that Christians hate the Jews, Christians are anti-Semitic, etc. This could not be further from the truth: the whole concept of Christianity is to love, whether it be a Jew or anyone else. As all Christians know, we are all responsible for Jesus' death, since we have all sinned and thus caused the need for his sacrifice. Hopefully the film will be able to get this across to a dubious audience.

March 5th 2004

It's always nice when I gain another reader, and yesterday it was Justin Crosfield who joined the ranks of desperate losers who have nothing better to do with their time than read my meandering thoughts. Like many seeking activity in their lives, he has also written a blog, although not titled such. Those wishing to read his... 'Stranger's Almanac'... should do so with due care. And neat shoes... don't ask me why.

I went down to Tesco today, to get some money out of the machine there, with Chris, which was pretty cool. We were talking, and somehow the conversation got round to the fact that I've never had a girlfriend (I wish I knew how it got round to that, so that I know never to lead a conversation that way again). Rather than wait for my explanation (and I've got a very good reason why... honest. And it's not that I'm gay... honest), he said that he was surprised (which was nice) and that he'd have thought that some girl would like me. Which wasn't quite so nice. But his heart was in the right place, I guess. So tomorrow I'm going to see Worcester City again, which will be cool. Hopefully.

Whilst I'm touching on the subject of how pathetic I am, I realised that there are 27 people in our current school year (give or take a few) whom I would say hi to if I walked past them (actually, some I would stop and talk to them...). Of those people, I like about half. Weird. (You may well be wondering if you're on the list... well, keep wondering).

March 6th 2004

I've read about the cult of celebrity before, as we all have. But it's only just hit home to me how stupid Johnny Public is (or, in this case, Jenny Public). Peter Andre is back, solely because he was on a reality TV show, and I happened to see some girl speechless with awe and joy because she got to ask him what it was like to wash in a river, or some such garbage. A couple a months ago, if you'd asked her whether she'd rather meet Peter Andre or buy a 99p cheeseburger from McDonalds, she'd soon be clutching her penny change, no question. But suddenly PA was on TV, so he's a demigod; meeting him is the new dream. I cannot believe that she doesn't realise she's being told what to like; I cannot believe that people have fallen for the hype. He was never a good singer: he had little to recommend himself to anybody. It's about time we recognized people because of their talent, not because of their television exposure (and take that word how you will). You might well be thinking about me and Matthew Perry right now: I like him because in the early series of Friends, he showed something akin to comic genius. I am also a fan of loyalty, so I have stuck by him through the bad times (drugs, series 7) and bought all his films, despite the fact that they haven't been critically acclaimed. I have not jumped on the Joey bandwagon of recent years, nor the David Schwimmer bandwagon when that rolled around (although, to be fair, I didn't realise it existed until after it had finished). I cannot take seriously anybody who says that they like Peter Andre - and I know there will be people who claim now that they always liked him. Unless they are his mother, they are lying. No two ways about it.

March 8th 2004

On Saturday, it was once more Worcester City day, as Ian, James and I went to see them take on the might of Dover Athletic, only four points behind 'us' in the Doc Marten's Premier. And what a game we were in for: 5-1 to Worcester, making it the highest victory I've ever seen at a football match (knocking Wolves 3-0 Grimsby into second place). I won't bore those of you who don't like football by writing very much about what happened; I'll just go over the main points. Interesting for all, I assure you. After only a couple of minutes, a WCFC striker ran into the opposition keeper, quite deliberately, and the keeper went down 'injured' for a while: this keeper was booed with every touch, and called racist on more than one occasion: I have absolutely no idea why. Perhaps he doesn't like black people. Anyway, it was a very dirty game with inefficient refereeing and terrible linesmen (on one occasion it was clear to everyone that a corner should have been given... but it wasn't). It was 1-1 at half-time, Dover having scored first. Then, just after the break, WCFC went ahead from a corner, and then 3-1 up from a beautiful strike by 'the bald guy'. The fourth goal was odd, as a WCFC player kicked out at a Dover player, getting him in what I hope was his stomach, but was probably a little lower; for some reason the referee didn't give a free-kick, but everybody had stopped. Looking at the referee in amazement, a WCFC player just curled the ball past the keeper. The fifth goal was a penalty, making four goals in about 20 minutes for Worcester. A bit later Dover got a penalty (although no-one really noticed it had been given) which was magnificently saved. Adam Webster (I think) got a hat-trick, and all in all it was a great day in the history of Worcester City. And we saw a guy who looked like Ruud Van Nistelrooy buying a burger. In other sporting news, Ireland beat the arrogant English in the Six Nations: you beauty. This week's poll is not about my diary entry today, but about something that has been bothering me and others recently. I trust you will vote with your hearts.

March 9th 2004

America was born in the streets. This diary was born in meaningless drivel about me losing my coat. And today I have come full circle because, ladies and gentlemen, today I didn't wear my coat to school today. Yes, winter has officially ended. No more shall we be constrained by the shackles our coats bring us: be free!

March 10th 2004

This week's poll has been something of a controversy here, with accusations of poll-rigging and multiple-voting going backwards and forwards across the interweb. One person in particular thought it would be witty to vote 'I fancy men' lots of times... even though he didn't. As well as being about as funny as Ruby Wax, it was also completely pointless, since it took me all of five seconds to remove his votes. I ask you all to make this poll fair and honest. I've only voted once, and I hope that everybody else will respect the rules and regulations of Crazy Diary Poll Man. In other news, this morning I was forcibly, and yet metaphorically, dragged out of the kitchen by a certain member of staff, because Mr. Pearson was going to be doing exam entry checks in our form. But he didn't turn up. Just thought I'd get that off my chest.

Right now I'm damn annoyed. On our way into town, a German driver pulled in and pointed an address under our noses - when we had realised he was German, we had a problem: I couldn't have answered his question had it been in English, since I didn't know where the place was. Sarah knew where the place was (she thought) but didn't speak German. No problem, I'd translate. Except, I didn't know the German for 'turn around' or 'roundabout' - the only two important things in the entire description. But why didn't I say something along the lines of 'Bis letztes Jahr habe ich Deutsch studiert' or even 'Ich verstehe Deutsch'? Okay, I was confused, and cars behind were honking, and I didn't know what I was supposed to be saying, because Sarah kept laughing, but I know that I'm going to regret not having said something useful. Because I could have done. Damn. Also, the Italian Job wasn't in Evesham Library, which was my whole point in going there. I think I'm going to go on a German chat site to make me feel better. I was always more comfortable with the written word. Und hoffetnlich werde ich wissen, wo die [place] ist, die nachste Zeit. I can't even get that sentence right. Ich sollte besser Deutsch sprechen. Oder schreiben.

So it appears that Jay's blog (for want of another word), of which I wrote earlier, is suffering after about a week: already he can't be bothered to update it much. I suspect that this stems from the fact that you can't achieve unorthodoxy on the interweb, because 90% of people who own websites are pathetic idiots trying to be different because they've never been loved. Possibly.

Last time I write today, I promise. I discovered that, up unto this point, I have mentioned 31 different films in this diary. But There's Something About Mary wasn't there, which is odd, since I know that I wrote about it. Either I just missed it, or somewhere in my reorganisation of this diary, I lost what I wrote. Those of you with nothing to do with your time might like to find out if it's in my diary somewhere. But you (hopefully) won't want to.

March 11th 2004

Being a twin can really blow sometimes: for example, when you get exam results, you've both got to do well, or neither of you are happy. Last time Simon did better than me, and this time I did better than him (all As... I think. I live continually in dread that what I thought was out of 90 was in fact out of 120...). Some idiot (possibly Doug, since he does have form) thought it would be funny to vote 'I fancy men' on this week's poll, a couple of hundred times. I don't know how long they spent doing that, but I got rid of it in rather less than one minute. And now I've removed the option. Can I ask again that people vote honestly and only once each? Is that too much to ask, you stupid fools?

For a long time I've realised that english is a joke subject, but Im even more convinced of it now, as I learnt that Bucky - who neither knows nor cares much about the subject - got an A in one of the modules. I felt a bit better when he told me that, the night before the exam, he read through a presentation I did for the class, and basically used it as his source for most of his essay. Which made me feel good. Although I myself didn't actually use any of the stuff I wrote for that presentation. And, as I predicted, quite a few people underachieved on the Corelli exam (if you check far back enough in the archives, you'll see). Today was also pretty good for me luck-wise, since I accidently left my exam results in B11, discovering them a lesson later, unmoved. Phew.

March 12th 2004

In the words of Heather Small, what have you done today to make you feel proud? Since our bus wasn't running, due to the snow, I made a snowman, which makes me feel proud. Because of the snow, I feel that it is a good opportunity to put in a picture that was on Ben's website a while ago, when it snowed before. But rather than actually put one of his pictures on, I'm putting a small section of it here: Have you guessed what it is yet?the first picture to feature on my diary (other than the main title picture). In the words of the great Rolf Harris, have you guessed what it is yet?

March 15th 2004

Well, it turns out that most of you have no taste whatsoever, as Izzy got 60% of the vote (in last week's poll of Steph vs Izzy). I suspect that some multiple-voting was engaged in, as I got about three times as many votes as last week's poll). This week's poll is less controversial. But slightly more flowers-related. The other week I was reading Michael Winner's column in the Sunday Times, and at one point he wrote some terrible witticism, following it with the words 'That was a joke!' (yes, he used an exclamation mark). I'm wondering whether I ought to adopt a similar policy, as it is my custom to follow Michael Winner's example in every sphere of life. That was a joke! I apologise for the feeble nature of that joke, but it was the best I could come up with under pressure. And rather better than Winner's. Was ever a man less aptly named? To call him a winner would really be taking the michael. That was a joke! I'm going to stop that now. The other day I wrote that I've mentioned 31 films on this page, and I'm gonna add to that list now: There are quite a few films which are pretty good, then have a bad ending and so you think that the film was rubbish. For example, The Talented Mr. Ripley and When Harry Met Sally. Perhaps for the first time last week, I saw a film that was pretty bad throughout, but had a good ending, so I decided I liked it. The film was Throw Momma From A Train. For much of the film, it was poorly constructed, not very funny and frankly quite upsetting. But the ending was good. Unlike the ending to this diary entry, which is spelled rong. That was a joke!

I appear to be going through another of those self-analysis (or, rather, diary-analysis) stages, since I was reading someone else's blog, and there was something of an ongoing story. For a while, that hasn't been true of my diary, either because I write about things other than just stuff that happens to me, or because nothing of interest ever happens to me (or, perhaps, everything that happens to me is interesting, but none of it takes more than one day). I'm not going to radically overhaul this diary (again) though, I'm just going to carry on doing what I do now. That wasn't a joke!

March 16th 2004

Today may have been a day of astounding reinvention. By changing a bit of my account data (and exploiting what appears to be a massive error) I think I can now receive e-mails sent to [anything the hell you like]@crazysnakeman.co.uk. You get the idea: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] At least, I could when sending e-mail from yahoo.co.uk, humour.com or hotmail.com, but not from aol.com. So I'd love it if anyone reading this can try it out... be as imaginative as you like. I await your e-mails. [Edit: you can no longer send emails via crazysnakeman.co.uk. Try stephscully.co.uk instead.]

March 17th 2004

First of all, happy St. Patrick's Day to you all! To mark the occasion, I wore an Ireland scarf to school (for the second year running) but couldn't find my Ireland socks. Ah well. Got the usual 'I'm more Irish than you' diartribe from several different people (who were noticeably scarf-free) but chose to ignore it, for the most part. Regular visitors to Crazy Snake Man will have noticed that I changed the homepage picture yesterday but I'm not sure I like it, so watch this space. Well, not this space: watch the space on Crazy Snake Man where the picture is. English today was interesting: for the first time, Simon and I decided to write up a table of everyone in the class and mark whether or not we thought they'd write the essay that was due in today (it was a 1hr timed essay that we'd been given a fortnight to do... so you think they'd find the time). Josh (who'd written it a fortnight ago, due to complicated reasons) joined in the fun, and so the scene is set. It turned out that only 6 people had done the essay (meaning that Simon got the total right) and Josh came out on top for the individual guessing - I was held back by the fact that Simon told me Alana wasn't going to do the essay (she did) and my highly optomistic assessment that Dan probably would get the essay done this week - after all, it's about time he did one, right? Upon entering the classroom, he took his earpiece out and claimed that he didn't know there was an essay. Brilliant. Mrs. Hearle, asserting her authority as our teacher, made all the people who hadn't done the essay but had turned up to the lesson (Becky didn't manage to get there, unfortunately) do it, timed. Right then. This didn't please certain people, most evidently Stedman, who insisted that the essay was pointless...

March 18th 2004

I was reading Doug's blog today, and he wrote about jamming on his keyboard, and the fact that he can improvise stuff quite easily. I find that quite annoying, since I played the piano - unwillingly, it has to be admitted - for ten years, and made far slower progress. Perhaps because of the way I was taught, or the fact that I hated it, there's pretty much nothing I know off by heart, and until recently (when I started playing Beatles stuff) almost all I did was classical stuff that no-one really wants to hear and I don't particularly enjoy playing. In fact, in the couple of years since I stopped having lessons, I've progressed probably more than when I was having lessons, musically at least, since I've been able to improvise better, and compose such classics as 'The EduSpace Song (Track 2).' Right now, I've completed the initial work on the Greatest Hits of Crazy Diary Man (ish), an A-Z of some of the stuff I've written on here. It's currently in Word, but I'll try and get it on the interweb some time soon... with spelling errors corrected! (perhaps)

March 19th 2004

Today I further muddied the water that is Crazy Diary Man by creating an A-Z of it. Basically, it's my Greatest Hits of this diary: the comments I feel have made the difference. Or I can most convincingly persuade you might have something to do with a word beginning with 'x'. Anyways, Ben's Blog gets in the B slot, and coincidentally, I was reading Dockery's blog for the first time today, and came across this comment about what I wrote on that fateful day: "This evening I remembered showing the good man Colin bens very own section of the world wide web and getting a comment from Colin on bens grammar. I therefore looked at colons webpage (this man is obsessed with friends) and reading his blog it appeared that Ben took offence to what Colin had wrote about bens blog/rants/diary ... I thought that Colin has a very good point about bens blog. Ben is often talking about smoking hash but he very very rarely smokes. The same goes for his drinking. it wasn't until he actually turned 18 that he started to come out drinking with us however he still doesn't make it to half of the outings. The last time we did go out was a complete nightmare because he got totally out of hand and acted like a complete idiot." (He gave the extract that I'd written, which I can't be bothered to put in here again). Now, I don't remember putting anything like that in my blog: I believe that Dockery may have misinterpreted what I wrote. I'd love to write more, but I'm gonna miss my bus.

March 22nd 2004

There's a thin line between being well enough to go to school and being ill enough to stay at home, and today I hovered over to the ill side of that line, so here I am. At home. But not so ill that I can't comment on how pathetic some of you people are. I hope I'm not judging too harshly, but I doubt that 47% of you 'have no mother,' as the latest poll suggests. Some pathetic, unimaginative people still believe that it is funny to lie when answering. Now, to me, the death of a mother isn't all that funny, but even if it were, voting for it wouldn't be funny. Let's hope you can do better this week.

DVDs... y'know that commentary on a lot of them? How much does that suck? People seem to think that they're the best thing on DVDs, but who actually wants to watch the entire film with some prat going on about the position of the furniture and an amusing anecdote about Julia Roberts and a paper bag? It might be intersting as an interview, but they're talking over the film, for goodness sake! If they did it in a cinema, they'd get chucked out. If I wanted people to talk over the film, I'd switch the radio on. Just something I was thinking about. Whilst not doing chemistry coursework... when I started this diary, I decided not to capitalise subject titles. I've been regretting it ever since.

March 23rd 2004

I wouldn't say that I'm cheap. Although I am. Let me set the scene: I wear slippers at home, and I don't care who knows it - what can I tell you, my feet get cold - but my left slipper destructed. So I got another pair, and after a while the right slipper destructed. So for a few weeks now, I've been wearing slippers that don't match: the undestructed slipper from each pair. That's something I've been meaning to mention for a while - every time I look at my feet (which is quite often. There's not much to do in Eckington) I remember, but then forget when I get near a computer. Something else I've been meaning to write about is 'The Message' by Eugene H Peterson: basically, it's the Bible written in modernday English. Except, it's not: it's written in modernday American, which can be annoying at times ('Beat it, Satan!' said Jesus) and I get the feeling that Peterson occasionally uses slang simply because it's possible, rather than because it's necessary: at other times, however, it can be useful in making certain passages more understandable. So well done you, Eugene. I've also got to tell the world about all-cd-music.com. I ordered three (new) Beatles albums from the website, and the total (including shipping from the USA) comes to between 10-11 (conversion from $). Although there's a weak dollar, and CDs are more expensive here than anywhere else, that's still an incredible deal. I mean, $1.20 for airmail (the same price for one CD as for three CDs) is absolutely incredible. I first tried to pay with my Solo card, and so far have had three e-mails telling me that they won't accept it. So I've tried with MasterCard, and I'm awaiting results...

March 24th 2004

My voice has kind of gone today. But at least I've stopped coughing. As much. But chemistry coursework looms. That's all I'm putting today. Bye.

March 25th 2004

Chemistry Coursework.

March 26th 2004

As I so eloquently put it, Chemistry coursework yesterday took up pretty much all of my time, the benefit being that I'm in a minority of about six who are actually going to hand it in on the deadline. But all that work meant that I didn't get to write about Einaudi (French translation: Unrenault) whom I saw in concert a couple of days ago. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I'm going to have time now, but I'll do my best. First of all, I went with three of the funniest people I know, Doug, Ben and Pete (apologies to Doug's Mum, who also came: she may well be funnier than the rest. It's just I don't know her that well). A highly entertaining trip there gave me plenty of material for next week's Crazy Diary Poll Man, with good-natured arguments about tomato ketchup, sausages and animals (although not necessarily in conjunction) filling our time. It took me an extraordinarily long time to work out that yes, Ben actually does put sausages in the fridge. Although, to be fair, he asked me the next day if the sausages I put in the freezer were frozen, which I had thought was obvious. He also wondered whether we'd be sitting or not at the concert... but I'll not write more about that, since I'm sure he'd love to over on his blog. In fact, three of us are 'bloggers' (for want of a better word), although it was Doug who got off the mark the quickest. I realise that I've not actually said anything much about Einaudi yet. Well. I was always an unwilling pianist myself, forced into it by my parents and only allowed to quit ten years later. But what I liked about Ludovico (as we call him) is that he shies away from the conventions of music (much of the time). The simple stuff he played at the beginning was, for me, the best, although he did go into more classical twiddles later on, which weren't as good. When he played simply, you could feel the true beauty of what he was doing, because I know I could play all the notes, but wouldn't be able to do what he does. Much of the time, he seemed like a child with an expensive toy, playing up round the highest notes for fun. The thing about him just playing the piano was that you could let your mind wander for long periods of time, with the music as background, before focusing again. At least, I did. Many years ago I saw a concert at the Birmingham Symphony Hall (which was where we were) and, frankly, didn't enjoy it much (perhaps because I was with my elderly piano teacher and her friend at the time). Poor Einaudi wasn't much good with his patter though, erring and umming a lot (probably due to being Italian...) and not really conveying a lot of information. Also, I didn't like the encores: to my mind, encores should be spontaneous, a response to an appreciative audience, whereas Einaudi's were clearly scheduled, since he even played Waves (his most famous piece) for the first time in the second encore. At least that made Pete happy. Unlike Doug, who had already seen Einaudi play, I didn't really know many of his pieces, and it was the stuff that I hadn't heard that I liked: a few times in the first half, there were moments of true beauty, and once he hinted at a melody which would have been soul-tearingly beautiful, before changing into something else. A pity. The second half wasn't quite so good as the first, although that might have had something to do with the tension in the air after Ben and Pete had an ill-temepered argument about who owed whom a drink. (Michael Winner haters, look away now) That was a joke! Well, I can't think of anything more to say about the concert, except that I managed to extend Doug's journey by several miles by forgetting to put my stuff in his car when we left. Then I left my blazer at Doug's house: I pointed out to him this morning that I didn't leave anything at his house last night (the same cannot be said for him). Whilst you puzzle that one out, I bid you farewell.

March 27th 2004

Rugby. As I write this, England are playing France (on TV in the next room) and I'm personally rooting for France: if they win, Ireland will finish above England. Which would be nice. But what is it with the English? Since England won the Rugby World Cup (and for a short time beforehand) everybody's been a mad-keen rugby fan. Just because England are good at it. It was rowing before that, and curling for a short time. For a couple of weeks a year, it's tennis. But football is better than any of these sports, and the ridiculous suggestion that rugby is better than football (the sport that spawned it) should be abandoned once and for all. Okay, rugby players don't argue with the ref (usually the only reason given to back up the rugby argument), but that's probably because they can't be sure that the rules haven't changed since the last scrum. Basically, big people run into each other until somebody drops the ball or one lot of big people have run so far that there's no space to run into people any more. And then someone who happens to be handy at kicking (but not handy enough to play football) scores 95% of his team's points, from pretty much any place in the opposition half. Football is more exciting, can go against the run of play and is far more skilful. Speaking of which, Wolves lost 5-2 to Chelsea today, but (and I'm not just saying this) deserved to get at least a point. We were 2-1 up for a while.

March 29th 2004

The results to Britain's Best Sitcom came through the other night. Coming so soon after the Big Read, nobody cared that much, and as soon as I saw that Vicar of Dibley came above Fawlty Towers, I knew that the vote was rubbish anyway. I realised that, although I like it, I didn't really want Only Fools And Horses to win: it's not clever enough. Fawlty Towers is, in my opinion, the best, since it never put a foot wrong. Whereas the first series of Blackadder - and all of Open All Hours - was terrible, Fawlty Towers never faltered, as it were. My other favourites on the list were Dad's Army and Porridge. If you're getting vote-withdrawal symptoms, check out this week's poll...

March 30th 2004

It looks like this week's poll is going to be another controversial one: many people cannot see why you'd keep ketchup in the fridge (myself included) whereas others think that any other choice of vestibule would be ridiculous. I'm reasonably sure that's an incorrect usage of the wod vestibule. I've just realised that, as I write this, Simon's doing his violin exam. So, good luck Simon. In other news, I think we've sorted the men from the boys when it comes to 'blogging'. Doug wrote about the concert on the 25th. I wrote about it on the 26th. Ben has yet to write about it (and hasn't updated since 20th). I leave you to draw your own conclusions. I found out today that, other than myself, only Sophie Langman got an A in the last chemistry module. So, just Sophie and me, then. A sentence that I don't get to write often enough. (I apologise to anyone else who got an A, if there was anyone... I just wanted to make that joke. Hey, who's it hurting?)

March 31st 2004

Some people write in their blogs because they have something to say. Not me. And maybe that's why I call it a diary: people (who keep diaries) write in their diary every day regardless of what they've done. I could tell you that I've just had an english timed essay, or that I've had a Year 13 photo, but that's not interesting. So I'll tell you about the CDs I bought on eBay: none of them have cases, but I got 13 CDs for 6.50 (most of you will have worked out that that's 50p each. Doug will have worked out that it's 0.5 each on his calculator) which can't be bad. Other than the Beatles Red Album (which I already have most of the songs from) I'm not particularly keen to have any of them, but it can't hurt. I've already sold one to Simon for 1.75, and there may be more sales ahead.

what was I listening to?
1962 - 1966 - The Beatles
what was I reading?
The Diary of a Provincial Lady - E.M. Delafield
what was I watching?
Throw Momma From A Train
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