Chris Jefferies; he isn't guilty yet.

The Joanna Yeates murder case is undeniable tragic. It appeals to us all due to much we do not know about it. Murdered in a relatively quite place of Britain, she was a landscape architect living a modest lifestyle. The media have latched onto this story like leaches. Did she know her murderer? How did it happen? Who what when where and WHY?
Until recently, the media weren't allowed to report on those arrested, and I reckon that the change has cost privacy and identity. Chris Jefferies has had his life exploited now. Guilty or not, he has a black cross over his name. The media has told us where he lives, his age, where he worked, and every aspect of his life which we may presume to be connected to the murder story.
The media has treated Jefferies as if he is guilty, but all the public has been told is that he has been arrested and taken in to questioning.
For now, all he is guilty of is a terrible attempt at a comb-over.

A Year of Politics

Skip a few months to 6th May. I remember sitting, in a tiny room in a youth hostel somewhere in Norfolk with the two accompanying teachers and any other member of the trip who gave the faintest about British politics. The room was more or less empty.
Fair enough, because after various TV debates, subsequent Clegg-mania and an embarrassing Gordon Brown gaffe, I was expecting an eventful election. I was expecting a fearless battle for the top spot, Cameron squatting in number 10, until perhaps one of the Queen's corgis was taken for ransom by George Osborne, and Cameron then elected as PM.
Tuesday 11th May.
So a coalition government was finally formed, and well, it was expected. Tories proposing the 'modernisation' of their party under leader David Cameron, who can make cuts of a Conservation proportion, but saying they are fair and centered, due to the counter balance of the Liberal Democrats.
The Lib Dems have proven that they frankly aren't fit for government, Vince Cable "declaring war" on media giant Murdoch, another slimy character who seems like he wants to possess everything we read in the papers or watch on the news. I don't know whether to trust Vince Cable, is he a Tory possession which make them look fair, or does he contribute somewhat to the most important decisions.
Oh and as I mentioned, there were the televised debates. I've been told that the best way to watch these debates is which them on mute, because you can see how the politicians interact with each other. Of course they all know it is under intense scrutiny which makes their words sound even more worthless. What else is interesting about introducing these debates is the choice of debaters. It has always been a two horse race, but now introducing the middle man-Cleggy, has opened those who like to sit on the fence.
Bring on Clegg-mania. The Lib Dems provided an alternative, something new from the horror of the Thatcher Tory government, or the recent new Labour government. I'm pretty sure a large majority of the 9.4 million-strong audience would have thought that Clegg was the leader of the BNP party. Cleggy was even turning strong Conservative supporters or Labour supporters. I like to call this the Susan Boyle effect.
Gordon Brown's departure did spark sympathy in the leader who wasn't elected and everybody felt sorry for him being PM. Wow, he has children! With a graceful exit, Brown disappeared from the political scene.
And then the cuts came. To me, it seems that Clegg had had a bit too much polyjuice potion and wasn't sure which party he belonged to.
Perhaps one of the most controversial decisions is the reformation of tuition fees payment which alighted protests. People protest. I have nothing against them, but there are flaws in protesting, and that is why I chose not to go.  I confess I do not know enough about this, and smashing up London purely on the basis of anti Conservative hatred is purely ironic. If you want to persuade the government to pay for your higher education, then why behave like thugs? To me it doesn't make sense.  Peaceful protesting is effective if it is peaceful. Yet sadly enough there will always be trouble makers, there will always be people who have underlying Tory hatred or simply enjoy anarchy.
If I were to make a conclusion of reformation of university funding, I would say that yes it has changed, but university shouldnt be something which is taken for granted.
2011?

Perhaps the royal wedding will provide a distraction for Cameron to make more cuts. Oh well, Olympics in 2012!

The Top 10 funniest jokes of the Edinburgh Festival 2010

1) Tim Vine "I've just been on a once-in-a-lifetime holiday. I'll tell you what, never again."

2) David Gibson "I'm currently dating a couple of anorexics. Two birds, one stone."

3) Emo Philips "I picked up a hitch hiker. You've got to when you hit them."

4) Jack Whitehall "I bought one of those anti-bullying wristbands when they first came out. I say 'bought', I actually stole it off a short, fat ginger kid."

5) Gary Delaney "As a kid I was made to walk the plank. We couldn't afford a dog."

6) John Bishop "Being an England supporter is like being the over-optimistic parents of the fat kid on sports day."

7) Bo Burnham "What do you call a kid with no arms and an eyepatch? Names."

8) Gary Delaney "Dave drowned. So at the funeral we got him a wreath in the shape of a lifebelt. Well, it's what he would have wanted."

9) Robert White "For Vanessa Feltz, life is like a box of chocolates: Empty."

10) Gareth Richards "Wooden spoons are great. You can either use them to prepare food. Or, if you can't be bothered with that, just write a number on one and walk into a pub…"

Identity

When I began this blog, I vowed it to be about life in general, not so much about my life, but about things which everyone can relate to. Then I realised that it may seem peculiar reading something someone else has written when you dont know who they are, I could be a terrorist, a clown or a prostitute for all you know.
Also, if I write endless drabble about myself it may get rather boring, and Im not that kind of person, and Im sure youre not that kind of person who would like to know all about me, unless you are my stalker then HI. Oh and, Im not so 'self indulgent' (dont worry, I know that sounds rather strange but I learnt it from the aerobics video in our games lessons with a rather camp instructor telling us to strut, really rather hilarious).
Post done.
Right this is harder than I expected; writing about yourself whilst trying not to write about yourself. I should create a false identity- sounds very MI5 doesn't it?!
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Paul, I am a fisherman from Bray, a small town near Dulbin, Ireland. I wake up at five in the morning to catch the best fish, it takes determination, but I do it for the people of Bray. When Im not attending my duties, I am morris dancing in the town hall, rather fun (said in Irish accent).
Then again I cant help but note the irony in this post, as the people who read this blog, are mainly close friends and  family, who would know me. Internet here I come.

Something puzzles me about Christmas.

When I say that, I'd like to point out that I'm questioning how the way people celebrate Christmas.
Christmas is a Christian festival, yet I pressume that the large majority of those who celebrate christmas are not Christian in this modern world where religion seems a side salad to the main course of daily life. This allows not Christmas folks to celebrate a Christian festival. But then why don't these non Christian people celebrate Hanuukkah (2-9 December), Bohdi Day (8 December), or Yule (21 December)?
The only possible answer I can find to this, is within the way people celebrate these festivals. What do you associate with Christmas?
I googled it.
I found; celebration, Santa, food, christmas trees, decorating the house, presents, music like carols etc..
So how much of this derives from the Christian celebration of Christmas.
Hello google.
I found; the birth of Jesus, social gatherings, carol singing, church congregations, charity etc..
Is it not evident that from this the only reason that the non Christian believers of the modern world only celebrate Christmas for its face value, when did the mince pies, baubles and obese drunks in red suits arrive and why?
Looking closer, it is promoted by mass advertising that it is a time for the disposal of cheap gifts, the eating of over-sized meals, watching of constant television, brimmed with advertising and the exuse for drinking large quantities of alcohol.
Then again, the winter months are very miserable, and so looking on the other side of the argument perhaps it is a good thing, for those few days perhaps a week, to indulge in all things we tell ourselves not to indulge in.
But surely this means that Christmas is just an exuse for all these things and the modern world has changed the image of Christmas to suit their greedy needs.
I hope you have enjoyed your break and consider the real meaning of Christmas.

From 'Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade'-Guy Browning.

How to... pass the time

"Many people with very little to do spend their spare time watching daytime TV. This is much like watching paint dry except not as colourful or useful. After three hours of either you also get the nagging feeling that is probably time you went back to work, especially if you work as a painter. It's generally worth remembering that daytime TV is designed to work best with your vacuum cleaner on turbo-boost.

Very busy people are occasionally ambushed by spare time and are forced to stare into the dark abyss of their meaningless existence. This is where a dog can come in handy. Dogs have many faults but existential angst is not one of them. Once you find yourself at one end of a lead, you'll have a million and one things to chase, sniff, dig up, eat and pee on. It's like a fun version of life.

Some people get a little bit overambitious with their spare time, give them an hour without scheduled activity and they'll decide to learn Spanish. that's why so many Speak Spanish in an hour books are sold and why so many people speak an hour's worth of Spanish.

Retirement is like being given all your spare time in one big chunk. People either choose to work even harder than they did before, or just die and get over with it. Sadly, if you cant cope with a couple of hours leisure time then you're going to find eternity a bit of a challenge."

This is why I write a blog. To fill the meaningless existence of my Christmas Holidays, and to make others' more enjoyable. I am off to learn Spanish.

Norah Jones-Come Away With Me

The invention of tea.

I am yet to meet an Englishman who refuses tea because they simply don't exist.
Way back when humans were still in the process of creation, God created a new breed of human, similar to the others, called an Englishman. What historians carelessly fumble over is the fact that Englishmen, until the invention of tea, were utterly useless. 
Scientists tried and tried but they didnt know what to do. Medicines were created, experiments were carried out, and then they found that there was a receptor which simply did not function beyond mere instinctive processes. 
Then, after 1661 long years without the English, the marriage of Catherine of Bragança and Charles II and with this, tea was imported from Portugal after it was harvested in China. Like an athlete on steroids, all Englishmen were ignited, they could work and they were not simply presences they were beings. From then, the rate of evolution of all Englishmen increased rapidly, the industrial revolution happened it what seemed like minutes, trains, cars, planes were invented. 
Englishmen became powerful, they became masters of the mind as they had something which no one else had. This drink, steam rising from that clear bronze liquid, poured from the kettle, stirred once with the tea bag, twice with the milk. In a favoured tea cup, this dwells, ready to be injected, absorbed through the skin, or, more commonly, drank.
That is why, through a matter of consequences, the Chinese harvesting of this strange infusion of water and tea leaves, has accelerated the evolution of the Englishman.

Through the recent turn of the weather I have concluded there are two types of people in life.

The first type is those who embrace snow, who take it as their friend and realise that snow is precious as the world is warming and we may never see snow again. These types of people will attempt to build snowballs and big as houses, will draw offensive images on the windscreens of cars or be dared to make snow angels in their underpants.

The second type of people decide to go on holiday as they are pessimistic whatnots and don’t believe in snow, so they turn up to the airport, wanting to go as far away from snow as possible yet, oblivious to that random white stuff falling from the skies they still demand flying through it. Develop wings you ignorant sods, don’t blame the next person as they are busy constructing an igloo, not bothering about your flight to Antigua.

That same second type of person, if not busy complaining, is throwing salt over the snow to make it melt. Balderdash! That salt should be saved for the torture of slugs, not ice! Another mind set which these people force upon themselves is that instead of being childishly amused at the construction of figures in the snow, the second type of person worries about the effect it will have on the neighbourhood, shock horror the prices of houses may just fall because everyone is buying houses at Christmas.

Let’s hope that second type of person is a dying breed.

The Kite Runner

Undoubtedly the best film I have recently seen, The Kite Runner, 2007, is an adaptation of the book (of the same title) by Khaled Hosseini pub. 2003.
It follows a young boy, Amir, who grows up in Khabul, a district of Afghanistan, and his closest from Hassan, the son of their servant. As the title suggests they enthuse about flying kites, and it brings the whole community together to watch the kite-battles to see who can cut their opponents kite's string first. Among this racism in Afghanistan and the Soviet invasion of 1979 darkly lie.
I haven't read the book yet, so I cannot say whether likewise to the film, but the very beginning film foreshadows the beginning of the end which is at first confusing however perfectly rounds the film off.
So craftily directed to put you into the action, into the setting whether it be the Kabul streets with headless goats for sale, the truck which they flee to Pakistan when the Soviets invade which the only light setting the scene is from Amir's watch, or the skies of California, the film is completely engrossing.
I would highly recommend this film as it is so well made and genuinely touching that at the crack of dawn tomorrow I am camping outside of Waterstones to buy the book.
Magnificently done but I highly persuade you not to watch the trailer before you watch the film; spoilers.

Witchcraft.

What do you play when you have a house full of middle aged mulled wine drinkers?

There is always a debate over the music to play at Christmas parties.

This year's choice is between Dad's cassette player (sad isn't it) and finding something transmitted through the skies from our battered radio, happily tuned to BBC Radio 4. 

Intrigued, I put a cassette into the player, after a few dusty fingers, and moments of suspense at whether or not it would blow up in my face I finally heard the joy of "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth." This song was written towards the end of the second world war, has been rerecorded by eleven different artists (including the cast of Sesame Street) and after a while it gets repetitive and I wish the cassette player had blown up when I prayed that it wouldn't.

After giving up and hibernating for a while in my room where there is some decent music, I go downstairs and mum has turned on the radio. I can only describe the sound emitted as electro-folk. ELECTRO-FOLK.

So what have I learnt from my ventures into the wide world of our musical tastes? That our house is dated and my mum has awful musical tastes.


Oh and my brother made an awful joke about my venture into the virtual unknown

"I blogged once, it was horrible, that Indian food was really bad!"

Health and Safety

So recently my mum got a new job, and as the law says, she has to attend mandatory days where she is taught about all sorts; a couple of days ago, she came back complaining of how she was taught to lift boxes. Seriously!
She learnt that the home was more dangerous than the work place which I'm not saying it isn't because this was proven by something which supposedly effects all of us. "The knicker accident". Be scared. So apparently it is when you take off your knickers or pants or whatever and you are too lazy/fat to pick them up with your own hands.
What this mistake consists of, is the hooking of the knickers with one foot and kicking them so you can catch them. Kinky.
However a common mistake that can lead to serious injury is the tangling of the knickers around legs and the backwards somersault, head over heals type which lands you flat on your face.
Personally I have never tried to do some kind of acrobatics with my knickers, but this sounds a killer.

I shouldn't be laughing at people seriously inuring themselves.

Yes, it is pretty when resting on branches of winter trees, with unique patterns which rest for moments on the tips of your fingers and quite fantastic at silencing footsteps but when snow falls, us, being British look in amazement.
We can't go to school or work because of underfoot dangers that might cause us to lose footing over like cartoon characters ignoring the obvious banana skin or whatnot, flapping our arms for balance like geese that are too fat to fly and hilariously fall on our backsides.
So recently it has been snowing in London (hey paedophiles, I live in London!) and today I was on my way home and waited at the bus stop for a while. Call me weird but I do like to entertain myself at bus stops, so for a while I decided to smooth over all the snow to make it icy, for the entertainment of the flat owners across the road, evil or not, people losing their footing is quite hilarious, especially when they are tall and hench.
When the bus eventually came, I took my place near the front. A couple of stops into the journey a lady got on with a child holding her hand and a baby in a buggy. She made some awful fuss of how long she had been waiting and how she had missed her appointment at the dentist and lost and lost a lot of money. So I did feel pity for her then but I couldn't help the sly smile when I got off the bus, and waited at the bus stop for a second different bus to take me home and three more of the same bus that that lady and her children had been waiting for turned up within fifteen minutes.
Isnt it ironic that London, a city that has meant to evolved past every other and habit the need of all, can't deal with the sprinkling of snow like icing sugar on a Victoria sponge when snow has been predicted months in advance.