The Little Things

Does God have a plan for me? Is there a God? If there is a God, you'd like to think he has a plan for everyone. However, when you look at all the people out there with their mundane troubles. 'All the lonely people,' as the Beatles song goes. It's hard to imagine that being the case. Then again, I feel my own life is charged with meaning, so perhaps it's dismissive to think that other people's lives aren't rich with meaning and purpose as well.

It really is the little things that make a difference. We want our lives to be like a movie. Yet we forget, or fail to realise, that movies have power because they reflect back our own lives. A good romance brings to mind our own, much deeper felt, real world romance - or failed romance. Or unrequited love. Likewise, you could turn the camera on any individual, tell their story - be it a factory worker, lollipop lady, or anyone else - and make a meaningful movie of it. So maybe the world really is rich with meaning, and we just think it's largely meaningless because we can only focus our attention on one movie at a time. Usually our own. Perhaps it's our lack of omniscience that leaves us feeling that only a few people can be important. We can't focus our care and attention on this out of the way lonely person over there ..therefore God can't be that bothered either.

The problem is, the world is too full of meaning. It overwhelms us. Every individual person is living a life that is infinitely richer and deeper than any work of fiction.

And that's just the humans. That's before we get to all the other living creatures.

This is my thing at the moment..

Recently I've been watching the late 80s/early 90s British sitcom, You Rang, M'Lord? It's my guilty pleasure. I've even been paying £1.99 per episode to watch it on YouTube I'm that hooked. I've raced through Seasons One, Two and Three, and I'm now halfway through the final season, with just two and half episodes left 😬

I only started watching it as my mam had it on in the background the other week. It inspired very vague recollections from childhood when I saw it. It rang a bell, if you pardon the pun. My first thought was Hi-de-Hi!, but no, this was something different (though the main actors are the same).

I always hated Hi-de-Hi! as a kid. There was something garish about it. That era of British culture where the women all seemed to have short hair, like Thelma from The Likely Lads. Instinctively, through a child's eyes, it just looked so wrong and un-aesthetic. That weird seventies tackiness and dislocation from natural beauty. There was just a wrongness about it all.

Perhaps I'd like Hi-de-Hi! now if I rewatched it (I'm tempted to having watched this), but it just seemed so grating at the time. Meaning my knee jerk response to seeing the same cast on screen was terror. However, it only took another thirty seconds for me to get a little sucked in. If I'm honest, it was a scene with Miss Poppy and Mr Twelvetrees that got me. It reminded me of the girl at work I like, and my own frustration with being so teased. That's the thing though with the show. What I really like about it is all the little relationships. Even though it's a silly comedy it's imbued with notions of long term infatuation. There's a certain romance and tension. It may just be me getting older, but it feels like we don't see examples of 'tension building between two people' in modern media. (Perhaps it's because modern media is so quick and short attention span now.) So watching this felt somehow better. Like entering a world where love is actually real again.

[Note: I actually used this line, "It may just be me getting older," just a few months ago in my post about the song Somebody Else, where I discussed similar ideas. I really must be in a soppy mood at the moment.]

(Miss Poppy and James Twelvetrees)

The female characters in particular are brilliant. Su Pollard as the maid Ivy is great. Her acting is really playful, but you really feel it when she longs for Mr Twelvetrees. Miss Poppy is brilliant too, just so bubbly and expressive. Such a fun character. And her monocle-wearing sister, Cissy, looks great. I really love her persona and look. She has truly great aesthetics - in contrast to the anti-aesthetics of earlier. The whole show has a real charm.

I don't have too much else to say - I just wanted to express my liking of it and leave a review really - so I'll leave things there.

(Ivy and Miss Cissy)

(The monocled Miss Cissy)

(Excuse the quality of the images, but YouTube literally blocked my laptop from taking screenshots of the episodes, so I had to take pictures of the screen with my phone. And after I paid £1.99 per episode too!

At least it adds an ethereal nostalgia though.)

Free Books - Click Here !

The much talked of, but rarely seen book is finally becoming visible. We've now got a PDF version of BOOK I available to download - for free.

Yes, this is the fiction. Someone Else's Kingdom. It can be downloaded here.

https://drive.google.com - someone else's kingdom

(An ePub version can be download here: https://drive.google.com - epub )

If you want an online preview instead you can visit the blog page:

https://someoneelseskingdom.blogspot.com

Other Free PDFs

As I'm going to pin this post to the sidebar I may as well provide links for the non-fiction works too.

The Freckled Mashiach

https://drive.google.com - the freckled mashiach

Strawberry Jam is the Best Jam

https://drive.google.com - strawberry jam is the best jam

Civilisation Judas

https://drive.google.com - civilisation judas

BIRTH FAMILY TRIBE LOVE SEX APOTHEOSIS

https://drive.google.com - BFTLSA

Oink: A Phonetic Alphabet

https://drive.google.com - oink: a phonetic alphabet

The Internet - Back in the Old Days: Part IV - MYSPACE

I started using MySpace not so much as a personal social media platform, but more because it was a good way to promote music. This is circa 2005/2006 (I can't remember the exact year). I wasn't a huge user of the internet at the time, but a lad that was in another local band told me about it. "Just use MySpace," he said, nonchalantly, when I asked him how he was getting the word out. "What?" was my confused response. Anyway, duly noted, I went and set up an account for my own band ..and then started randomly annoying people.

(I was trying to get Grok to make a MySpace

related image. It doesn't make any sense, but I like it.)

The way it worked back then was that you could literally just search for people by age and location. So, you could set the search for people between the ages of eighteen and thirty, within a twenty mile radius of your hometown, and start adding people. You'd just sit there for an hour sending friend requests to everyone that looked like they might like your music. You'd add one hundred - maybe ten of them would view your profile page. If you were lucky a few might accept the request or listen to your music. Obviously, you were essentially just spamming people, but it was somewhat more innocent and sincere back then, and it did actually work. People would check out the music; some would like it, some would become actual fans. So spending a few hours just adding people was worth the effort.

Pretty soon you'd exhaust your local area though. So then you'd go further afield. You'd start adding people from London or Manchester, or even L.A. and New York. You'd go international.

I Got Bored

As ever my own curiosity took over. I got bored just adding people from the trendy areas, so started adding people from more exotic locations. Sweden, Germany, Iran, Brazil, anywhere. Just to see what would happen. Coming across other young people in foreign countries was quite interesting. Finding out that there were people into indie music, or even heavy metal, in places like Iran was quite a contrast to the worldview I'd gained from TV and popular culture.

Perhaps the weirdest thing was what happened when I started adding people from China though. First of all, there weren't too many Chinese people on MySpace at the time. Given the mega population I was expecting more, but it was quite sparse. Though, to be fair, at the time that was somewhat the case across the board. The internet was much more new back then. After all, I myself had only heard of MySpace a few months previously.

Anyway, the Chinese people that were on the platform, I started adding. Just as I had every other country I'd searched. But then I got a message telling me that my account had been hacked (as if someone other than me had hacked the account and started adding Chinese people randomly), and all the Chinese people I'd friended were automatically unfriended. That was the first time online where I thought, "Oh, China's different." I felt like I'd accidentally entered a restricted area I wasn't supposed to be in.

Conspiracy Content

Finally, the other thing I remember about MySpace is how it opened me up to a lot of new conspiracy type stuff. Back then there was this feature that was like the standard Twitter or Facebook feed, but it was more in the form of a group chat. At least that's how it felt to me - I felt like I was privy to some group conversation. You'd click on it and you'd see all the latest things the people you were friends with had shared. I'm not sure how I came across the conspiratorial stuff, given I'd originally started using it purely for music. I always had those leanings though, so I guess I must have (again, out of curiosity) friended some accounts.

Some of the stuff I'd see back then - though fairly standard now - was completely new to me at the time. I can remember how uncomfortable I felt reading (or listening to - sometimes links were shared) revisionist things about World War II. It wasn't outright Holocaust denial content, more stuff that argued that the German people had legitimate grievances, or that the Nazis didn't actually want war. I can remember having a feeling that I was doing something wrong by even consuming the content. My desire to hear the alternative points of view overrode that though.

I could've shied away, but I'm glad I didn't, as you do have to hear all sides to get a rounded view. Of course, the fact that the German people had hardships and legitimate grievances doesn't excuse ending democracy, invading other countries and putting people in concentration camps, but it does give a deeper explanation. Again, it's more the feeling I'm reminded of though. That you were going somewhere you weren't supposed to go. The internet really did feel like a wide uncharted, and sometimes dangerous, ocean back then. It's seemingly a much more managed and homogeneous space now.

The Internet - Back in the Old Days: Part III

Today I want to reminisce about how the advent of blocking on Twitter (X) lifted a veil from my eyes. It was a real OMG, "Wow!" moment.

Yes, it's an Internet - Back in the Old Days article. PART III: Shocked by the Block.

Unlike most humans these days, who are forever stuck in the latest online moment, I don't have the memory of a goldfish. So I can remember what Twitter was like back before everyone was blocking everybody else. So allow me to be a modern day Samuel Pepys, as I take you back through my experience of living through these times.

I'll start a little further back - on Facebook.

I started using Facebook around 2012. I was a late-comer to it given my age. From the get-go I'd been instinctively wary of it. Viewing it essentially as an evil MySpace (I may do a future post about MySpace).

Anyway, I only really started using it as I'd somehow managed to (miraculously) develop a social life. I started working in a newly-opened, Poundland-type shop and became friends with the people I worked with. Being normal, they all used Facebook. So, naturally, I got sucked in. I actually enjoyed the novel experience at first. I was like, "Oh, this isn't actually too bad. It's a fun way to keep in touch and joke around." The thing was though, being new to it, and not being the most natural socialiser anyway, I didn't fully understand the etiquette. The dos and don'ts. Plus, I didn't quite realise just how seriously everyone else took it; that it wasn't just a silly online space, but an extension of real, personal life for most people. So there were quite a few cringe-inducing moments where I embarrassed myself or put my foot in it.

This gets me to the blocking. There were two girls I worked with (one I liked - a lot), and sometimes there'd be drama. I'd make a cocky joke that didn't get taken the right way, or there'd be some daft work issue that I'd inadvertently find myself on the wrong side of, and I'd later go online to find myself BLOCKED! Sometimes by one of the two girls, but usually (given they were 'besties') both.

So there was this continual back and forth. They'd get in a mood with me for some reason and I'd be blocked. Then, a week later, I'd be back in the good books and unblocked. Then, after a period of grace, (sometimes as long as a whole month if I was lucky), there'd be some other minor drama and I'd find myself excommunicated once again. And so it would go on. In fact, the only time I've ever blocked someone online myself is when I blocked these two. I knew I'd fallen into the bad books, so I quickly went online and pre-emptively blocked them before they'd have a chance to block me. Just as a joke. I got some amusement watching the response that week.

This is the thing though, and going back to my lack of experience with social media at the time. The first time the girl I liked blocked me I was genuinely quite shocked. In my head blocking someone seemed like a really serious thing to do. Like something you'd only use when dealing with a literal stalker or borderline criminal. It seemed almost akin to calling the police on someone. So, that first time I thought, "She's actually blocked me! What a little drama queen." It seemed so extreme and over the top that it was actually funny to me. Though I was also a little wounded.

Of course, I pretty quickly came to realise that all this was fairly normal behaviour for females on Facebook. That when they bitchily fall out with each other they reach for the block button. That if they think a lad is being an arsehole, or just plain annoying, they block him. It's not a huge deal. It's just a common social tool. A school playground, "I'm not talking to you anymore," type thing.

Twitter..

Fast forward a few years later. Twitter was a more grown-up place (at least relative to Facebook). It wasn't real life gossip and drama, but politics, art, debate, and everything else. You didn't tend to see people blocking each other like it was the school playground.

..but then that started to change.

I can't remember the exact changes to platform that facilitated this, or the exact years when they came into effect (I guess I do have a goldfish brain), but I remember the furores. The general view whenever such changes came along (at least in my circles) was that it was a terrible development. Another step towards making the once free internet less free. But, nevertheless, things were slowly streamlined in that direction.

And people, that you'd expect to refrain from such behaviour, suddenly started engaging in it. Like it was just perfectly normal. The old ways quickly forgotten. The sense of embarrassment that a person should have - that they're using a tool brought about with the intention of making women safe online from serial harassers - completely absent. Just, "I don't like your tone; I don't like your attitude; How dare you disagree with me! You're exiled from my kingdom! BLOCK!"

Like a delicate brat or impatient king.

All of a sudden lots of people were behaving exactly like the cute, foot-stamping missy I worked with. Journalists, academics, people whose content I watched. People I actually liked and respected. They were all throwing tantrums like moody checkout girls. And in a much worse way, as at least the checkout girl used to unblock me once her tantrum had subsided. Plus, to be fair, I was annoying her in real life too at times. With the people on Twitter it was just a cold use of power. Like swatting a fly.

It was a real eye-opener. An actual disappointment. I already somewhat lacked faith in authority and talking heads, but this took it to another level, and completely shattered any remaining illusion I had. "Wow, these people - the people in suits; the people running the country or presenting the news - they're just as petty as the average shopworker or playground schoolgirl. They're just as emotional and delicate, and unable to deal with criticism." It was a bit like at the start of COVID, when it suddenly dawned on you that most of your neighbours would gladly lock you up without a second thought for breaking curfew. The scales lifted from the eyes. A realisation that your respect had been truly misplaced. These people were never your equals, you'd been too generous.

After seeing grown men behave in such a way you really can't go back. The thought that there might be actual grown-ups, acting like grown-ups, somewhere in some ivory tower, exiled from your mind like they exiled you. In many ways it's another blessing the internet has given us. Even with the ever-increasing incursions into the free flow of information it remains the great leveller. Humans are just humans. Is it any wonder governments so readily censor people when the average person does the exact same thing when you give them a little button saying, "Excommunication." The promise that it would only be used to stop "genuine harassment" disappearing in a little puff of ego or temper tantrum.

Gold vs Platinum

I've had a cold this week, so I've been lounging around a bit. As ever though, I always find that during these bouts of snotty lounging I tend to find new avenues of interest. This time it was platinum that got me thinking. So I've been listening to talks about platinum and PGMs (platinum group metals).

Twenty odd years ago platinum was twice as valuable as gold - largely in thanks to its use in catalytic converters. Today, (with the hype for electric cars in full swing), gold is three times as expensive as platinum. So it's been quite a flip around.

It was always one of those odd little bits of trivia back in childhood. You'd make some reference to gold being the most valuable metal, then some other kid would chime in, "No, it's platinum. Platinum is more expensive than gold. My dad said!" Intuitively it always felt wrong, you'd even naively argue back against it. How can the most precious metal not be gold? It's gold. We all know that gold is the best. That's what gold means. It's golden coloured. How can something be more gold-like than gold itself? This feeling would then be heightened when you actually saw a piece of platinum jewellery and it looked ..silver.

Now gold is king again order is seemingly restored. So kids growing up today won't have the same sense of dissonance.

Anyway, it was jewellery that got me thinking. With the gold price so high, (will it keep going higher?), jewellery is getting more expensive for the average person buying a wedding ring or anniversary gift. The natural alternative is silver. However, for some occasions silver just won't do, as it comes with connotations of 'second best'. A lot of women aren't going to be too happy with second best. It likewise comes with a sense of cheapness. This is especially the case today with the price difference between gold and silver so large. Once gold was ten or fifteen times more expensive than silver. Now it's one hundred times more expensive.

So I was thinking, as gold climbs ever higher, will platinum jewellery increasingly fill the void. It is indeed more rare than gold, so doesn't come with the same connotations of second best. And it's still expensive, in spite of its current price relationship to gold, so comes with the reputation of expensive exclusivity. Platinum jewellery is also very beautiful. Having a sheen and brightness that silver can't quite match.

This might be amplified by the fact that gold is so heavily associated with finance and materialism these days. Men want it more than women do. So platinum could regain a sense of romance. That it's now less associated in the public mind with car parts may help this natural rebranding.

Magpies and Moodylocks

I always count magpies on my way to work. It's the one superstition I have. Of course, I know it's a superstition, and that I shouldn't read too much into it, but still, it's hard not to. "One for sorrow, two for joy ..I've only seen one, so that means bad luck today. I better be on my guard." The rhyme said so. And it's an old rhyme, handed down from long ago. From a world that had different knowledge. My mam taught me it. She got it from somewhere else. No classroom was needed. Somehow it survived into secular modernity. A catchy jingle from more superstitious times.

One for sorrow, two for joy. Three for a girl, four for a boy. Five for silver, six for gold. Seven for a story never to be told.

Fortunately (luckily), I generally see a lot of magpies on my way to work; on my little semi-nature trek over the River Tees. So I'm sometimes far beyond seven. Well into the realms of the untold. I'm actually quite fond of magpies too. I think they're very beautiful birds. They tend to get a bad rap - seen as thieves that steal shiny things, and as predators that bully other birds. (Pretty much everyone I know hates them.) Perhaps they are troublemakers, but the crisp distinction of the black against the white always leaves me impressed by the neat artistry of nature. There's also a slight iridescent blue to their dark feathers when you see them up close. They're well-turned out birds. The fact that they tend to pair bond for life gives an added admiration.

I also sometimes see swans on my way to work. These remind me of Helen of Troy. The real Helen of Troy - the one that's turned my brain to goo recently. The one who can't be named except in simile. (I noted once before on here that I tend to get the inspiration but not the girl when it comes to love. She's definitely in the moody muse category. So I think the pattern is most certainly continuing. That I'm here writing this probably tells you that.) It's said that Helen had skin so fair it was like the shell of a swan's egg. The real version even looks like a little swan when she's sat huddled over her mobile phone in the office.

The other birds that catch my thoughts are the collared doves that hang out in the garden. The current two are like boyfriend and girlfriend, inseparable, sitting for hours on the fence or in the tree branches. Just there, with each other. Timelessly. I sometimes feel a little jealous when I see them. I'd like to reincarnate as one. The calm peace of an easy love. It reminds me of years ago when I used to see wild rabbits on my way to work when I worked in a factory. I'd always think, "What a life. Just bouncing around, eating ever-available grass and having sex." Again, with a similar feeling that the animals have it better than Man.

(It seems birds, being creatures of the air, are more symbolic of love than sex. Closer to the heavens; less weighed down by the material earth. So perhaps with age my thinking is getting more ethereal.)

Incidentally, I also sometimes see rabbits on my way home from work. Their little white tails bobbing through the dusk like little headlights. Innocent and cute, bringing to the world a sense of Eden.

It was my walk home last night that inspired me to post this morning. After a day of failure I was thinking it was time to put the moody one fully out of my thoughts and dreams. I like her too much, but the moment has passed, and she likes me ever less. Anyway, as I was walking home, at about ten o'clock, in the dark, I first heard, then saw, two magpies. They were chattering away, making quite a racket, in a tree above a parked car with its engine still on. Dimly lit by the glow of streetlights.

Normally I never see magpies at night. In fact, when I count them on my way to work I bear this in mind. Having seen one before work I could then hold out hope of seeing a second when I finish. Rescuing me from the misfortune. Given it's night when I leave work though I know this cannot be. So the cut off point for prognostication is when I enter the building and start my shift. Consequently, seeing two at night, with my head so full of defeat and failure, felt like something of an omen. Not necessarily of good or bad portent, but more with a feeling of, "Okay, this is part of life's meaningful odyssey."

And fittingly I've just started reading Homer's Odyssey. (I did fear to read it as I found Homer's Iliad so boring. However, it's actually excellent. It reads like a work of fiction, not like a long poem - as per the Iliad. It also has medieval fairy tale type elements too. Such as Penelope's devoted love to Odysseus, and how she unpicks the shroud she's weaving every night by firelight to buy herself more time before having to remarry. Upholding the troubadour ideal of true love as divine and time-conquering.)

In the Odyssey there's a bit where Zeus sends two eagles across the sky as an omen. This is then interpreted by an older man (Halitherses) who's experienced in "bird lore and soothsaying." It reminded me that fortune telling by birds was once a common thing. It also reminds me of the book, The Alchemist, another tale of an odyssey or journey with elements of bird divination.

As I go through life it's hard not to feel like an Odysseus type figure. Being both helped and tormented by the gods. Though I suspect I may be more the "auburn haired" Menelaus at this point.

The 2p Copper Coin ..and John Lennon

Just a teeny weeny post today. Revisiting a recurring topic: the value of the copper in a (pre-1992) UK two pence coin.

Last time I checked, back in 2022, the value was (approx.) 4.7p.

Today it stands at 5.2p.

So an increase. Inversely, thanks to a decrease in the nickel price since then, the value of the raw metal in a (pre-2012) UK 5p coin has fallen. It was 3.2p, now it's 2.8p.

Finally, just to add some colour, I'll share a picture of an old John Lennon book that arrived in the house yesterday. It was given by an old woman to my mam (also an old woman). She won't read this.

Continuing the music theme from yesterday.

Female-Facing Rock Bands

I'm not really sure where to start with this post, but I want to explore the way some bands tend to appeal to women more so than others.

I did try to get some stats on which bands sell a higher percentage of their tickets/records to female fans, but couldn't find any. So I'm going to have to go entirely on anecdote and my own biased sense of how things are.

Bands that I tend to think of as appealing to women more than average are Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, Bon Jovi, INXS (though this could just be because the singer is good-looking - an issue that's hard to factor out). As per my last post, a modern example would be The 1975. I think Bryan Adams fits this label too. A label I'm terming female-facing.

I think another good indication of whether a band/artist makes this list is if they tend to get a bit of dislike from males in the opposing direction. Like how a lot of people will actively dislike the Eagles. Though again, we're in subjective territory here.

Once (if) you acknowledge this as a real thing the question then is, why? What is it about the attitude or music that makes this the case?

Guitar Shapes

Another thing that adds into this in a vague sort of way is the symbolism and subtext of guitar shapes. I remember hearing somebody mention that round-bodied guitars are shaped like the female body, whereas the more slender Stratocaster-type guitars are more phallic-shaped. (We've all seen the hair metal guitarists thrusting their guitars forward with their hips - Spinal Tap style - as they play their "solos"). Hence it's been said that troubadours playing round-bodied guitars are symbolically caressing the female body, whilst the rockers thrusting their amped-up phalluses forward are, well ..going solo, so to speak. And that, furthermore, women are more impressed by the narrative, storytelling and emotion of the troubadour. And that it tends to be other men that are impressed by the thrust of the soloist. Watching on from the audience, seeking to emulate their strutting hero, with his big, powerful guitar.

Anecdotally this does seem to be the case, with the hard rock audience tending to be very male heavy. Whilst the emotive balladeer attracts the female gaze. Something you'd perhaps expect, given the dichotomy of men tending to be visual and women tending to prefer narrative. A la pin-ups and romance novels.

This all would then suggest that the bands that appeal more so to women play into this narrative and emotive angle. Either deliberately or naturally/accidentally.

Men want to impress women. Yet men also want to impress other men in this male dominated world. Or in male dominated pursuits/environments, be they sport or music or whatever else. So it's kind of a question of who they want to impress more. Are they more orientated to the females watching/listening or the other men?

Are they male-facing or female-facing?

Again, some people may just have a natural inclination one way or the other. However, you could also write a song thinking, "Will this appeal to a woman? Will the average woman want to walk out of the room if she sees/hears this, or will she be drawn to stay?" As above, you would then run the risk of displeasing your male peers though, who may see your female-leaning music as a bit too soft or delicate or romantic.

The Eagles

Finally, the Eagles as a band definitely have the emotive storytelling that would appeal to women. Most of their songs are about women and relationships. Think songs like Lyin' Eyes or Peaceful Easy Feeling. However, the Eagles aren't shy of a guitar solo as well. Without wanting to get too crude, perhaps the Eagles are the appeal to women band (and the hated by other men band) because they've perfected the art of female-facing music. Getting things started with the storytelling and troubadour emotions, then only bringing the phallic-shaped solos out once the mood is right, lol. Only moving from soft rock to hard rock later in the evening, when the lights are down. I've also seen it mentioned online that they were the most misogynistic American band of all time. So maybe that had something to do with it too, lol.

If only I'd have understood all this when I started playing in bands myself twenty years ago.

The Tale of Two Somebodies

To follow up on that last post. It occurs to me that today music seems to be much more sex-focused than love-focused. This might just be me getting older (am I even in a position to know what the music world looks like these days?). So I may be biased. It's hard not to be left with this sense though.

Like wider society, modern music seems to be sex and hook-up focused. A sense of true love is still in there somewhat, I guess, but it struggles to get out. So I think that depth of ambivalence I mentioned in the last post is more lacking.

Two more recent songs come to mind when I think about this. The first is the track, "Somebody Else," by The 1975. (The 1975 are female-facing band - that's female-facing, not female-fronted. This is a nice segue into my next post.) I heard this song about a year or so ago in a bus station of all places. It grabbed me a little bit, though I've never been a huge fan of the band. It's about having to imagine someone you have feelings for being with somebody else. And it does capture this feeling quite effectively. It's a good song, and like the songs mentioned in the last post, it manages to convey the sense of mixed feelings.

These feelings are no doubt particularly relatable to the youngsters of this current generation, who are growing up in a world where true love has been bludgeoned to death by materialism, and where people exist within dating apps and hook-up culture. (Though, conversely, a large number of young people aren't hooking up at all, and just have to live with the feelings, within this wider plastic culture.)

Somebody Else comes with this sense that it exists in a modern world where meaning has been stripped, and things (even intimate relationships) are throwaway commodities. However, the song does convey the very real feelings of a person experiencing this.

The second song is kind of a darker version of this. It's the song, "Somebody That I Used To Know," by Gotye. Full disclosure: I hate this song. It doesn't help that it's been played to death over this last decade, and you can't go anywhere without hearing it. Consequently, it doesn't need explaining. Everyone will have heard it. Just for the record though, it's about someone completely cutting someone off after a break up. I think it's probably been such a huge hit because so many people have had this exact experience in today's world. Again, where even people you were intimate with are discardable.

I think this song's so much darker though as it's kind of resigned to this modern materialistic worldview. There's no sense that the love once meant something, and that it still means something, if only in memory. It's complete obliteration. The annihilation of all attachment between the two people. Of course, the person writing the song wouldn't be writing it if it didn't mean anything, and I'm sure people will say, "Yes, that's the idea." The singer is saying, "You're just somebody that I used to know," but obviously that isn't truly the case. Still, the sense of resignation and coldness is pervasive. Even the music feels cold. (Perhaps I'm being really unfair here, lol. Maybe it just isn't my cup of tea musically.)

Whereas Somebody Else, even though it also speaks of a love "gone cold," still captures and expresses some care and emotion. It even mentions the word soul.

"You're intertwining your soul with somebody else."

With Somebody That I Used To Know the soul feels absent and unbelieved-in. It really speaks of a generation of people that are longing for meaning, in a world where they've been told everything is simply random and accidental.

If It Makes You Happy

One of my favourite songs is "If It Makes You Happy" by Sheryl Crow. The other day my friend asked me that classic Desert Island Discs type question of what song you would save if you could only save one. I chose this. His text back response was, "Really?". So I guess he doesn't rate it as highly as I do, and was expecting something a bit more obscure and exclusive.

Anyway, it got me thinking about how the best songs (at least in my opinion) tend to capture feelings of ambivalence. They're not outright happy, upbeat songs, nor are they sad songs. They tend to convey a mix of feelings. If It Makes You Happy is a great case in point, as the chorus literally contains the words sad and happy in the chorus.

"If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?"

Of course, in life things are often like this. We feel a mix of things at the same time. Things can be bittersweet, or just complex and confounding. Your love for someone might be uplifting, but you're sad because you can't be with that person. Or you're remembering a happy memory, but there's a current sadness that it's now gone. Truly great songs often capture some sense of this.

I'll list a few that spring to mind.

Losing My Religion - R.E.M.

It's hard to analyse this one, (I'm not even entirely sure what it's about), but it definitely has that mix of feeling melancholy, but upbeat.

Wonderwall - Oasis

Another that's upbeat, but not upbeat. In fact, I think Noel Gallagher has an especial knack for capturing feelings of ambivalence in his music. It may be partly the reason for the huge success of Oasis. There's lots of definitely and maybe. "Maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me.." There's this positive sense of, "Yes, we're going to conquer the world," in his music, but its also tinged with memory and whimsy.

Help - The Beatles

This has that feel too to me. I'm not fully sure why, though I suppose it could just be that the song is so upbeat in feel, yet the topic is one of needing help. Though even in the lyrics there's the juxtaposition of, "When I was younger.." I didn't need help, but now I do. And once again we have memories of feelings from before juxtaposed with feelings of today.

Incidentally, the other big song from What's The Story? was Don't Look Back in Anger. Another song about memories and looking back. However, it's don't look back in anger - the anger being an emotion of the here and now as we look back. So it intertwines these different senses. There's no anger or rage in the feel of the song, but it's there in the very title.

No doubt this list could be endless. Another that springs to mind is Beetlebum by Blur, which has that upbeat melancholy thing going on. Also, as I'm writing the words 'no doubt,' No Doubt's Don't Speak comes to mind. That's uplifting to listen to, but it's sad in feel. I'm not sure why.

I'm tempted to wander off into some philosophical musings about how love is transcendent, and that memories or thoughts of people we love transcend the particular moment of misery/loneliness/dissatisfaction that we find ourselves in. And that great music captures and expresses this.

But I probably shouldn't. Though I kind of just have.

Lowe Point

I don't normally post just after I've finished work, (I'm thinking twice about it even now), but the events of the last few days need recounting. Let's be quick, I need to speak in bullet points.

Basically, the MP Rupert Lowe has been kicked out of Reform. (There are various allegations/investigations going on, which, in the round, are irrelevant to me, so I'll forgo them.)

The wider business all started a few months ago, when Elon Musk tweeted out that Nigel Farage needed replacing as leader of Reform. This happened in a broader context of the online right criticising Farage for not wanting to hang out with Tommy Robinson. Amidst that flurry there were polls and questions about who should replace Farage (of course, the people wanting him gone had no idea what would come next). Rupert Lowe tended to top these polls. So, since then, we've had this endless online nudging and campaigning for Lowe to become leader, alongside the unrelenting criticism of Farage.

One thing they've been pushing Farage to do is use the term, "Mass Deportations." The term is vague (perhaps deliberately so). On initial hearing it implies that huge numbers of settled people will be sent back, but it can be reconstrued to just mean those here illegally. So it's imprecise and incendiary. I'm trying to play things with a straight bat these days, but obviously these attempts to push Reform into extreme positions and language feel like sabotage.

Anyway, now Lowe has been ejected - and it's come as something of a shock to all the troublemakers.

I think these people thought that with Lowe being an MP and with Reform having just five MPs there was zero chance they'd push him out. Big mistake. They just don't understand that Farage has spent the last twenty years dealing with people trying to misdirect or sabotage his political vehicles. He literally ditched an entire party he'd created (UKIP), because it was so full of troublemakers, and started a new one from scratch. So, yes, it's not ideal booting Lowe out, but it's better to deal with the problem now than to allow it to linger on for months and years.

It's been fun to watch. The agitators are now completely outside the party. (Whether Rupert Lowe himself is a deliberate agitator or not I don't know - he could just be someone with genuine views who's been a useful crowbar for people wanting to undermine Farage.) Either way, the people criticising Farage are now really throwing their toys out of the pram. We've had some right little tantrums.

What happens now will be interesting. They can kick him out of the party, but they can't kick him out of parliament. Personally, I don't think they'll let him back in the party. I suspect the explosive nature of the spat is deliberate to make sure the bridges are fully burnt. I think the people on the other side (when they've calmed down) might want a burying of the hatchet - to get a toe hold once again. However, I think they've been snookered, and all their crying and online outrage will ebb away like all the other online dramas.

Childhood, Part 2: The Little "Red" Bull

That reminiscence then reminded me of something else. Namely, how I never believed in Father Christmas.

I can't ever recall ever believing Santa was real as a child. Consequently, it always comes as a slight shock when people state that they actually did. When people ask, "How old were you when you found out Father Christmas wasn't real?", I can't quite believe they're asking me it.

I've had this conversation as an adult and as a child. Recently, a friend matter-of-factly told me he remembers when he first found out and the sense of disappointment he had at the time. I can likewise remember being nine/ten years old and having the same conversation. They'd say something like, "When did you find out? I was six," and I'd be like, "What?"

And these were usually kids that were much more streetwise than me, and from rougher homes. It seemed so odd that they actually believed in Santa.

I'd always just assumed that everyone knew it was a fun little thing that we all paid lip service to. Like, yes, I'll say I believe if that's the hoop I need to jump through to get the presents. That's the game, you don't need to tell me twice.

Surely this is what every other kid did too? I didn't think people actually believed there was an actual Santa Claus.

Am I Mis-Reminiscing ?

Anyway, thinking about that got me wondering if perhaps I was misremembering things. Maybe there was a point when I genuinely believed, but it was simply prior to how far back my recall goes. I can definitely remember being very small - circa nursery age - and being a bit incredulous that my mam was trying to reason me into believing it. We had one of those old gas fire fronts with a grill, so no one was coming down the chimney. "If he can't come down the chimney he can get in other ways," she said.

"So he has a key? Why bother coming down chimneys at all when he can just go through the door?"

It seemed so silly to me even back then. Again though, maybe before that I believed in the silliness and I just can't remember doing so.

The Little Red Bull

That then got me trying to think what my earliest memories were. It's a real struggle to remember anything before nursery age. I have barely any memories (if any) of being a baby, or even a half-walking toddler.

The earliest that comes to mind is of me being sung a nursery rhyme about a little red bull. However, I must have been old enough to speak, as I can recall asking my mam to sing it again, and I can also recall questioning what it was about. Something about it disturbed me a little. It felt old, like it carried some ancient pagan message or wisdom. I also recollect my mam not wanting to sing it at one point, like it was something she sang to me when I was an actual baby, but that she felt more embarrassed about singing as I became an older toddler.

Anyhow, out of curiosity, I looked it up and it turned out to be the song, Little White Bull, by the 50s singer/actor Tommy Steele, lol. At first I wondered why I'd misremembered it as red, but my mam used to sing red instead of white because I had red hair. So I guess that's why I also felt it carried some sort of message - as it did. The song's about a white bull standing out amongst the other black bulls. For me it was changed to a red-haired one amidst the black-haired. Of course, I wasn't really too aware of my hair colour back then, so I guess I had this curious feeling of, "What are you getting at with this, mam? What does this mean?"

I'm also a Taurus by star sign, so there was a double meaning implied. That was always something that didn't sit well with me either. I've never felt any sort of kinship with the bull. A fox, yes. A rabbit or cat maybe, a dragon - it's possible, but I just don't see myself as a bull, and never did. So it always felt unapt.

There's a language of the animals. The bull is strong (and vigorous), the fox, cunning. The tortoise slow, the hare, fast. The sneaky snake and the innocent lamb. The brave lion, the greedy pig, the graceful swan.

There's a weird truth to all these associations. However, the bull is a strange one. As it's the embodiment of strength and fertility, yet it's also captive. So it's both powerful and disempowered. Strong and fecund, but fenced in - and there to be sacrificed whenever man chooses. (Incidentally, there's also the sacrificial red heifer too, though a heifer is a female). Either way, as a child I somehow managed to spin a 1950's children's pop song into something akin to an ancient Minoan rite.

And perhaps with me feeling trapped within man's fences - albeit of school and society - the bull was more apt a totem than I realised.

Childhood, Part 1: Lisa Simpson and the Lowest of the Low Time Preferences

Thinking back to childhood. Time to reminisce.

I was walking home last night and something got me thinking about the urge to, "Change the World," and where that comes from. As a very small child, strange as it may sound, I always had this thought in my head: "When I grow up I need to fix all this." As if I personally had to rejig society so that it worked better.

I'm not too sure where this sense of responsibility came from. It may sound quite an arrogant or self-important thing to think, but at the time it really wasn't like that. If anything it was more a way to give myself hope. I knew I couldn't be happy in the world the way it was, so the thought of changing it offered a way out. Though again, why I felt I had to change it, and it wasn't just something someone else would do I don't know.

Perhaps it's an intelligence thing. Like low time preference taken to its furthest extreme.

As a five or six year old I used to ask, "Okay, so I work really hard all day, every day at school, even though I don't enjoy it, then what?"

"Then you get a job," came the reply.

"So how long will I work for then?"

"Until you retire."

"When's that?"

"When you're sixty-five."

"Okay, so where's the pay off? What's the point to all this misery?"

The sheer unrelenting, inter-generational grimness of it appalled my little mind. That you go through all that. That you have children, and they then go through all that. And so the cycle goes on forever. A perpetual toil. That even if you personally somehow escape it, by becoming a millionaire or a rockstar, it doesn't spare your children from falling back into it. Nor does it spare the countless other millions and billions of people.

The balance was just so wrong. Monday to Friday - five sevenths of the week. Nine 'til five - most of the day. "This needs to change," I would think. "It seems everyone else just accepts it," I would think.

"So I need to change it," I would then conclude.

This is why, even today, I still argue for smarter, more flexible - less time demanding - education. I haven't forgotten. I really still believe it doesn't have to be like this.

I think that switch from nursery to fulltime school is the real kicker. You're a three or four year old at nursery. You're there a few hours. You play with the toys, you learn the alphabet, you have a carton of milk. You're back home by dinnertime with the daytime cartoons. "This isn't so bad," you think.

Then, suddenly, you turn five and you're thrown in at the deep end. School! It's all day. It's all work, minus playing in the sandpit for half an hour. It's long. It's tiring. You're on your own all day, away from your family. There's a sudden slog and drudgery to life.

"How long's this for?!"

Until you get a job.

"So, forever?!"

Anyway, I wonder if it's the same for the other people that have this urge to, "Change the World" ?

It's kind of a Lisa Simpson from the Simpsons type character trait. In fact, just to add a topical element, Ash Sarkar has just abandoned Woke ! The criticism from the right is that she's seen which way the wind is blowing and has acted accordingly. It's a cynical, strategic grift they say. However, I've actually always instinctively liked her - as I genuinely think she has this same Lisa Simpson-esq desire to change the world. So, though I haven't always agreed with her views (that might be an understatement), I do think they're reasonably sincere. She often references the Simpsons too, so I would guess she does actually feel a kinship with Lisa Simpson as well.

Next up: Santa Claus

Hairs and Years: The Different Eras of Man

I'm starting to miss having long hair. I always said that when I turned forty I'd start having short, tidy hair. Be a bit more sensible and less noticeable. Be a bit more manly.

I'm now forty-two, and so far I've stayed true to this. Nor do I have any plans to change this course of action. I can't help but feel it lacks poetry though. There's part of me that still wants to be a guitar-playing, gypsy-haired Bob Dylan or Lindsey Buckingham type figure. (I've been listening to a lot of Fleetwood Mac recently.) The distraction isn't helping things either. Leaning me into moody sighs, retroflection and love-stricken Romeo-isms. Or Troilus and Cressida, which I'm reading now, incidentally.

It was always my plan to give up the locks circa forty. I used to tell people that back when I was around thirty. If anyone told me to get my hair cut, I'd say, "There's a time for short hair, and it's not yet."

There's a thinking behind it too. I call my forties and fifties my "JFK years" in light conversation with people. I think the ideal mode of man is different depending upon the age (this applies to women too, but my focus is ME!). Youth lends itself to energetic things, whilst age lends itself to experience.

This is something that women naturally recognise when judging men.

So, for example, if you wanted an example of an attractive man in his twenties, 60s era Mick Jagger would be a good example. Energetic; risk-taking; wild; dancing; flamboyant; expressive; peacocking; ideas; imagination; a challenge to the social order.

Whereas, an attractive man in his fifties would be someone like James Bond. Suave; experienced; in control; strong; powerful; calm; clean-shaven; statesman-like; upholding/defending the social order.

What women find attractive in an older man is not what they find attractive in a younger man - and I'm not making the argument that these qualities should be embraced because they appeal to the opposite sex. I'm more stating that women are a good natural judge of what a good man should be. When we flip the above examples we can see this even more clearly.

A fifty or sixty year old man dancing around and peacocking like Mick Jagger isn't appealing. It looks embarrassing. A man in his fifties doesn't have the raw energy to embody this behaviour to its full potential, like a younger man can. It would also be expected that a man of such an age would've acquired a self-confidence that makes such appeals for attention unnecessary. Showing-off and playing the big I AM can be excused in the rash and young, but it's a bigger sin for people old enough to know better.

Likewise, a clean-shaven, calm, serious young man looks boring. A twenty year old can't pull off being James Bond. He simply can't have the experience and gravitas an older man would have. And his calmness would only highlight that he lacked the vital energy of youth that makes younger men such a force in the world.

So the ideal man in his twenties is not the same as the ideal man in his fifties. And women instinctively understand this, as the older men and younger men they find attractive reflect these differences. Therefore, the ideal twenty year old man is 60s Mick Jagger (or insert your favourite rockstar/footballer/etc at their peak), and the ideal man in his fifties is James Bond (or someone fulfilling a similar archetype).

My younger self picked JFK to fill the older archetype. This might not be the perfect example, as JFK was only forty-six when he died, but to my younger eyes, with his 1950s American looks, he seemed the embodiment of the presidential statesman or leader. In fact, the actors playing James Bond were no doubt younger than they looked too, come to think of it, but you get the picture.

(It's similar for women. A sixty year old Madonna behaving like a twenty year old popstar isn't appealing. If you're a man why would you look at a sixty year old pretending to be a twenty year old, when you can look at an actual twenty year old that naturally embodies those qualities to perfect fullness? A sixty year old just can't have that same vital energy. Attractive older women are comfortable with their age, and embrace the positive aspects that come with it. I'd rather not write a paragraph about what I find attractive in older women lol, but you can fill in the blanks. Or Google a picture of Helen Mirren.

Also, it's probably worth saying, I'm not chastising anyone for how they choose to live here. None of this is necessarily right or wrong in a moral sense. I'm not 100% sure what I should do myself. I'm just making the wider observation.)

Anyway, you could say the younger me viewed JFK as a good older role model, and that at some point I thought, "Yes, I'm going to be like JFK when I enter my forties and fifties." lol. As funny as that sounds.

The Breakdown

I tend to break it down like this.

You have the prince.

Then the king.

Then the wise old elder.

The prince is adventurous.

The king wields power.

The elder relinquishes power.

For the elder (I'm bringing in a third category here), you can imagine a Merlin the Wizard type figure. An old person, who is past middle age, who recognises that his days of strength and power are behind him, but who offers wisdom and counsel. He never tells King Arthur what to do - Arthur is the one at the height of his powers who must execute decisions - he simply helps the king work through his own thoughts, and acts as a repository of past history, "..A long, long time ago this similar event occurred ..and King So-and-so took this course of action..."

So I've always had this idea that as I enter middle age (beginning around forty), I need to become more statesman-like. (You're entitled to laugh out loud whilst reading this.) Then, when I reach true old age - God-willing - I want to be wise, but passive. Not so arrogant and cantankerous that I refuse to relinquish the limelight.

20/30s: Long Hair

40/50/60s: Short Hair

70+: Merlin Beard

😄

ART

I actually think this lends itself to art as well. So, for example, jumping around on stage with a guitar is more suited to a younger man's energy. Whereas sitting down and writing a novel is more suited to an older temperament.

In fact, often you'll see that people who become successful later in life, start out in different artistic fields. For instance, Ricky Gervais was originally in 80s synth-wave bands, long before he made his name in comedy. Perhaps if he'd have been successful back then he'd be prancing around with a synthesiser now at the age of sixty. Feigning the energy of youth, instead of wise-cracking about his middle age spread.

Yet again, I'm not saying you can't make music in middle age (or beyond even), I just think it lends itself more to youth, and that it's worth acknowledging this. That, with age, you should perhaps try to make music that truly reflects your mood and place in life. Not make a false attempt at trying to prove you've 'still got it'. Overstaying youth's welcome. I remember John Lennon, not long before he died, saying he wanted to make music that was the sound of a forty year old with a kid. Not try to be a Beatle, or outcompete the latest generation of artists. That sounded wise to me, and I'd be interested in hearing Madonna's latest album if she too was trying to embody the "wise women" witch archetype - not trying to be twenty.

Saying all this though, perhaps it's me that's wrong. After all, I do feel the pull of long hair. Perhaps we're all just born to be a certain type of person from birth to death. Pre-destined by our stars. Maybe I'm going against my own nature by trying to live according to these archetypes of age.

Maybe I'm the one embarrassing myself by trying to be JFK?

Will there ever be a vegan Nestlé?

I'm still stocking around on the stock market. One of the things I sometimes ask myself is: Will there ever be a vegan Nestlé?

i.e. a really big animal-friendly umbrella food giant that owns lots of smaller brands.

Or will it be more the case that any decent vegan/vegetarian brands simply get bought up by the already existing mega-corps? A good example being Innocent smoothies. A successful British brand that is now owned by Coca-Cola.

Over the last few years some of the vegan stocks have tanked. From the super hype and highs of the Covid new normal era to drastically terrible.

This all interests me for a few reasons. Firstly - like I said - I'm still stocking around on the stock market. Secondly, though not vegan, I am vegetarian, so I do like the idea of a world free of animal cruelty. Thirdly, I work in food distribution - just a normie job in a warehouse - so I see some of these foodstuffs coming through the system every day. Not in enormous amounts, but enough to make me think, "Well, some people must be eating this stuff."

Personally, I tend not to eat meat substitute products. Though occasionally I might buy Linda McCartney sausage rolls for the novelty of having something different. This means I'm not in a great position to judge the products themselves. Maybe it would be a nice experiment to try? Though I've never been a big meat-eater, even back when I actually ate it, way back as a child. I've just never had the craving for it, and I haven't missed it since officially forgoing it.

My thinking goes beyond the individual products though, as I feel that the best ones will just get bought up by larger brands eventually anyway. So, for instance, even if the Beyond Meat product isn't the one that becomes popular in of itself, perhaps they'll just buy up the ones that do become popular. Meaning if you own stock in Beyond Meat you'll get there in the end either way. This brings me back to my initial question though. Will it be Beyond Meat (or some other vegan company) that becomes the vegan heavyweight - the vegan Nestlé? Or will Beyond Meat just disappear and crash out of business if its product isn't successful, as the pre-existing Coca-Colas and Nestlés of this world buy up anything that's worth having?

My Portfolio

I've actually bought some shares in Beyond Meat as a little punt. I also bought some stock in the Swedish milk substitute company Oatly.

About $160 of Beyond Meat and $100 of Oatly.

I bought them cheap, but they've since become cheaper. So I'm now down about $90 between the two. The direction of travel seems to be only one way.

(It's not too bad though, I'm actually doing fairly well overall. I'm beating the SPX500 over the last twelve months, so I'm not doing too shabbily.

Meaning I can afford myself a little fun.)

Non-vegetarians eating vegetarian products

I've also noticed over the last few years non-vegetarian people eating these meat substitute products. I guess they're doing it partly for the novelty, partly for the cost (if meat is expensive it becomes a comfortable alternative, assuming the taste is up to scratch), partly for the health benefits (or sense of such), and maybe even partly to lessen their impact on animals and the environment - a kind of partial vegetarianism.

So I wonder if the biggest market for vegan products will eventually be just normal people who like meat, but who can't afford it on a regular basis, so need a substitute. The vape to the cigarette, so to speak. Not so much actual vegetarians like me that already avoid meat.

People view becoming vegetarian or vegan as a purely ethical decision, but in reality these decisions are as much about ease as about ethics. For example, it would be hard to be vegetarian if you were stranded on a desert island, clinging on to survival, but it's much easier when you can just head to Sainsbury's and choose from the thousands of options on the shelves. So a bet on veganism is kind of like a bet on things becoming more civilised.

If things get better - and people have more comfort and options - they'll have more leeway to avoid things that cause animal cruelty. Though I'm contradicting myself a bit here - as I'm also suggesting poverty and lack of options might push people to the alternatives too. It's tricky.

On top of all this, we also have this idea that the powers-that-be want us all to go vegan. Or to 'eat the bugs' - the weird zombie sister of veganism. Where we don't eat meat, but we do start eating creepy-crawlies. It's a weird world isn't it. I sometimes wonder if the threat of the bugs is just the scary monster used to corral us towards the vegan products. Though with the EU approving the use of mealworm powder in food one has to wonder. There's certainly a lot to think about when it comes to this topic.

Helen of Troy

They say Helen of Troy's skin was so white and translucent that it was like the shell of a swan's egg. The Trojan War. All that blood spilt over just one woman. Was it worth it? It should be an easy answer, but it isn't. When God calibrated the mind of man the world and woman were given equal weight.

It's hard not to think in supernatural terms. When you look at the real life flesh and blood Helen of Troy there's something demigoddess-like. The modern worldview seems philistine. The universe happened by accident, then ..dot, dot, dot, ..beautiful women. An atheist is a man who's never seen a woman. It's like finding a marble sculpture and not seeing the hand of man. There are moody miracles every day, the gravity of their beauty pulling the whole world around them. How can anyone remain faithless when troubled by literal angels?

..a bit of a wallowing, poetic one today, but I'm distracted. I'd get AI to knock up an image of the swan-like Helen, but it just cannot do it justice.

Conversations Rehearsed in the Mind

A few posts back I talked about my efforts to be less socially awkward. Since then I've found that physically slowing down helps. I'm normally a high energy busy-bee, with the garbled anxiousness to go with it. Anyway, just slowing down works. Like, actually just walking slower. I force myself to walk more slowly before I walk into a room, and, voilà, I'm much more chilled out. The physical translating into the emotional and inter-personal. Of course, it hasn't quite transformed me into Arthur Fonzarelli overnight, but it has helped.

Another aspect of social anxiety I've been thinking about is, "Conversations Rehearsed in the Mind." Everyone probably understands what I'm talking about here.

You want to speak to a particular person. You imagine the conversation you want to have with them. Perhaps when you're lying awake at night, or waiting for the bus. Going over it in your mind. Perfecting the words you want to say. Replete with charming little jokes and witty points. However, when the opportunity arises it isn't quite like that. Almost disappointingly so. And it's not just that you lacked the confidence to say what you wanted to say, though that may be part of it. It's the sheer difference between the fantasy and the reality. The situation presents itself differently. The person responds with different words to the ones you'd imagined they'd say, or they're in a slightly different mood. Or there are other people around, butting it and stealing your limelight, cutting you off. Or just changing the social dynamics of the situation. Or, the conversation just goes in a completely different direction. Leaving you trying to force your pre-scripted points into a scene where everyone else is just going naturally with flow.

In short, reality is so much more complicated and unpredictable than the dreamed-up conversation in your head. You're left feeling like an anti-social oddball. Or again, just downcast and disappointed that your life isn't what you imagined it was.

So, the question then comes:

Should you rehearse conversations in the mind like this?

Would it not be better to stop overthinking things, and to start trying to live in the moment? Isn't this the way successful, confident people go through life?

However, I'm not so sure. I think it's more a case of needing to manage your expectations, and learning how to deal with disappointment or defeat.

It's a little bit like football. Visualising success is important. Obviously, when you're out on the pitch the freekick isn't going to fly into the top corner every time. Yet still, rehearsing the dream in your mind acts as a form of practice. It isn't a substitute for real world practice, but it does help. It also allows you to imagine new ideas and be creative. I'm sure truly successful footballers do this. They'll dream (and obsess) over such things.

It may look effortless on the pitch, but that effortless freekick was the product of lots of mental and physical practice.

A similar, though more boring example, is the job interview. Interviews rarely go how we imagine they will, but thinking about what you might say or how you'll respond to questions certainly helps. And if you really care about the job you'll think about it a lot.

So, how much more can you care about a person. If you can lose sleep over a job or a football match, then surely a person is worth the sleepless nights. It's tiring and stressful, but would you want it any other way. The mountain is high, but the view is spectacular.

Therefore, I think it's more a case of trying to bring your tricks and flicks into the real world. To see the dream as practice for a real world that's much more complex. Instead of hoping or expecting that reality will simply mirror the sitcom in your mind. To prepare yourself for the big game, so that you have the confidence and instincts to be able to express yourself in real time. Rehearsing conversations helps, just be flexible. Perhaps the opportunity for a backheel or a rabona will present itself. But don't try to force it.

For instance, Ronaldinho no doubt did a lot of practising and dreaming - he was certainly imaginative. But he enjoyed himself on the pitch too and operated on instinct when out there. So I think this is probably the way to go. Not to start not caring, or not dreaming. Or to start pretending the things you feel are important are not important ..but to start enjoying the game more.

I think it's also important to remember that everyone has some kind of internal monologue. It's easy to look at other people and to think, "That person breezes through life." However, the reality is, everyone has an inner life. Everyone has their insecurities, anxieties and ambitions. So, if you assume others go through life effortlessly you underestimate their intent and worry, and their own inclination to dream and to pursue the things they want.

There's been a lot of talk over the last few years in online circles about winners and losers. Chads and betas. Especially in regard male/female relationships. With commentators often viewing women as foes to be subdued and defeated. But I think the real winners are the people that just enjoy the game. Cringe though that may sound.

a snapshot

Yesterday, I arrived at work. GB News was on in the canteen before I started my shift. The headlines about the air collision in Washington tapering across the screen. The canteen had a smattering of people. Africans, Poles, English, Indian. Some eating, some watching the screen, some glued to their phone. I remember the first time I noticed GB News playing on the canteen TV. It felt noteworthy. That was over a year ago. Maybe longer. It's standard now. It just plays in the background, like the BBC, or a local radio station. I can't help but periodically think about the noteworthiness though. Someone clicks the remote to turn it on. No one complains. No one turns it off. It feels like a little victory. Like somehow it's a little guide rail, keeping everything on the same cultural track. A kind of crash course in Britishness by daily osmosis.

Rolling coverage of American officials talking to the press about the tragedy runs uninterrupted on the screen. Then, finally, it cuts back to Tom Harwood and a female presenter in the studio. It then cuts to live feed from John Prescott's funeral, where Tony Blair is giving a eulogy. It starts mid-anecdote. A tale about John's no-nonsense working class manner - a refusal to refer to Menzies Campbell as "Ming". Blair then starts talking about "power". John's influence on debates about "what Labour must do to sustain power," and how the Tories "wield power" and find "nothing inherently unprincipled" in doing that. Even with the sorrowful news I couldn't help but inwardly laugh that even at a funeral Blair can't help but talk of power. I then looked at the clock in the screen's corner: 12:49. "I better wrap up, get my hi-vis on and head down to clock in for my shift."

Dreams and Cultural Conflict

Another day, another piece on the BBC News website about Roman Abramovich.

Are we on the path to synthesis and reintegration? A billion pounds might be a hefty slap on the wrist.

The big story today though in the UK is Magica De Spell's economic announcements. I must say, it all feels quite optimistic. We definitely need the reservoirs. So the feelings of optimism I had at the start of the year are continuing. It does feel like everything is on a better path. Obviously, the big thing globally is always war and political persecution. We want a world where these are lessened. Ideally absent. There's always cultural conflict. It does feel like the culture wars have died down a little though, and you'd think the more chilled out vibe would lessen the prospect of real, physical turmoil in the world. A bit of a healing and resynthesis period. So yeah, I'm actually hopeful.

Returning to Magica's announcements, the one that excites people is the idea of creating "Europe's Silicon Valley" between Oxford and Cambridge. Whenever stuff like this pops up I always think about how important the cultural environment is to such potential blooming. For example, I remember as a child briefly stating, "I want to make computer games when I grow up."

Naturally, as a child, I loved my video games, and that love obviously inspired the thought. However, when I stated this aloud the response I got from adults was one of complete dismissal. As if I'd said I wanted to be an astronaut or a Hollywood film star. It was just not on the radar of possibilities. Consequently, the ambition quickly disappeared and was replaced by other dreams and plans.

Had I been encouraged down that path I would've no doubt not ended up being a video game designer. However, it's likely that I could've ended up doing something relating to tech or computing. Some natural, more adult off-shoot of that initial childhood dream.

So, in the UK, back then, it just wasn't a realistic option for people. There was no route. And now, in turn, we have no Google or Amazon.

Also, there were no role models.

ROLE MODELS

Role models are important as they offer a path to follow. They illustrate to the young what is possible in adult life. What's realistic.

We can see this in contrast when looking at a dream I did try to pursue: MUSIC

As a teenager I loved music as much as I loved Super Nintendo games. However, in the UK, in comparison, we did have a music industry. So, even if parents and teachers weren't fully supportive of the idea of becoming a rock star, there were plenty of other adults in the wider culture that provided the blueprint.

Meaning, as a teenager from a council estate in the north of England, you could see, say Noel Gallagher of Oasis, and think, "He's from a council estate in the north of England and he did this - therefore it can be done." It is a real world possibility of a dream being achievable. Albeit an unlikely one. You can then follow that path. "What did he do?" You perhaps read a biography and seek to absorb the lesson. Of course, all these things tend to happen by osmosis. The thoughts aren't quite as clear minded as I present them here. Nevertheless, it is a case of people needing to feel that something is achievable. Otherwise why make the effort to go down that path.

This is likewise why so many young girls get hooked into OnlyFans and stuff like that. It's not that these girls are lazy or fundamentally corrupt in some way. It's that they're ambitious - i.e. they want a successful life, and they don't want to spend a lifetime working in a factory or on benefits. So, they gravitate to (what to them) feels like a realistic path to success. They see other women making vast sums of money doing it, and just like the teenage me, watching indie bands, that real world example serves as a template. An advert that: it can be done.

A realistic dream is offered. A route out of the drudgery and the humdrum.

So, if you want a British Google or Microsoft you really need to understand that the dream is so important. The next generation need to believe that, "Yes, I can make computer games for a living," or "Yes, I can build a robot or go to Mars." And, "Yes, I can be rich, successful and attractive to the opposite sex doing these things."

Now you, the reader, may say, "But this is just silly, these things just aren't realistic." However, this is how inspiration works. You don't create a Google if you start life as a teenager thinking, "I'll just get a normal job that will pay the mortgage like everyone else."

Stocks Deep Sunk ..and other news

We had the big AI stock market correction yesterday. Thanks to the emergence of the Chinese company DeepSeek. Though, given how overpriced things were becoming, I think the Chinese AI provided more of an excuse for the correction than the impetus. I'm no expert though, and we'll see what happens today.

I'm mainly posting as this story comes as part of a raft of stories running today that come with the sense of mood shift. Or, at least a coalescence of where things have been heading.

Above is today's BBC News homepage. The main story is the China AI story - a story that marries the very now themes of China, AI and Trump. This is supplemented with a link to the live running debate about assisted dying, and a prominent article about the Russian oligarch Roman Abramovich.

At the start of the Ukraine war Abramovich featured quite heavily. However, in the period since, talk of him (and his steel company Evraz) has dimmed down in the news pages. Now he's back, front and centre.

If we scroll down a bit, we then get another Russia/Ukraine story. Plus another very of the times story about a man benefitting from a brain implant. Welcome to the future. (Oddly we also have a story about '66 million year old vomit' being found in Denmark.)

I'm not sure where this is going, but it all has the feel of: "Okay, here we are. This is where we are now."

Back at the start of the Ukraine war I was a bit slow off the mark in getting my head around it. Now, in retrospect, I think I have a better handle on things. It's always easier in hindsight though. The challenge is getting a sense of things before they happen. Or at least as they happen.

More War? Less War? Where War? Wherefore?

A Money Tree on a Desert Island

The topic of MMT popped up yesterday. Modern Monetary Theory, also known as the Magic Money Tree.

Of course, all the arguments back and forth on such topics tend to get lost in theory. People really do love a good theory. Intellectuals support theories like normal people back a horse or choose their favourite football team. They find one they like, then stick all their money on it. "This one is right - this team is the best. All the others are bad."

Personally, I'm more a 'make do and mend' type person. I don't think any theory can map onto life perfectly, and more to the point, I think when people try to force the real world to conform to a theory - any theory - things start getting bad. So I prefer to look at things from the ground up. Don't get too heady.

Anyway, one thing I like to come back to when the topic of debt and printing money comes up is how what matters are the percentages, and how they are balanced, rather than the ever-growing numbers themselves.

For example..

(I get to use my favourite sandbox once again - the desert island.)

Imagine there are two people on a desert island, and there are 100 notes (bits of money). And each has 50. Then, they decide to print more money. Let's say, another 900 notes. So now they both have 500 each.

The situation remains exactly the same. The still both have 50% of the island's wealth.

Let's say, originally, when there were 100 notes in circulation, a coconut cost 10 notes, but now, thanks to inflation, with 1000 in circulation, one costs 100. There's no real difference. They can still just as easily buy a coconut. A coconut still costs one fifth of their wealth.

It's a bit of a silly example, but it goes to show that the amount of money in circulation isn't the issue. It's the balance. There could be a billion notes on the island, but if each possesses 50% it doesn't make any difference to the circumstance.

Back to reality..

So, in the wider scheme of things, it's about the balance of money. It's about relative wealth. The question should be, "Are things getting more balanced?" Not, "How can the economy possibly keep going with a zillion-billion-gajillion dollars in circulation?!"

Of course, the problems are compounded by debt. Money tends to be lent into existence. So a billion gets injected into the economy, but on the condition that the billion needs to be paid back. With interest. Naturally, the debt is therefore bigger than the injection. You could have zero interest debt, or negative interest, to mitigate this fact. However, there isn't really anything stopping a government from creating new money sans debt. A fresh injection of cash, out of nowhere, that doesn't need paying back.

So you could just stick £100 of fresh money into every individual's bank account to inflate away the ever-growing debt.

Just because this could be done, doesn't mean it doesn't come with downsides though. If you were a foreigner would you hold UK pounds, or accept them as payment, if you knew the citizens of the UK were just going to gift themselves another £100 as and when they liked.

So the debt does serve a function. It's a punishment or cost that prohibits people from inflating.

Again, personally, I think you have do whatever you need to do to balance things, and you need to do it in moderation. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. I'd be open to sticking a little bit of "out of thin air" cash (jubilee money) into everyone's bank account to help adjust the clearly crazy and unsustainable imbalances we have now. However, we're stuck in the middle between idealists. Believers in MMT, who would take this acknowledgement as a green light to print whatever they want. "Hey, we can print money! Let's just fund every socialist dream we've ever had this way!"

And people on the other side of the argument. Who want to go back to the gold standard; who are expecting the dollar to collapse at any moment. The irony is, these people understand the problems caused by inflation very well, and they understand how it unfairly benefits those with assets and not the regular wage worker, but, so wedded are they to the idea that printing money is just plain wrong, they'll never advocate for a fairer printing of money. Where the injected liquidity doesn't just trickle down from the top.