Simmer down for Summer

This is basically what rearranging my bedroom furniture is like.

Time for a creativity tube refill, exams are now officially over. I have survived this period largely thanks to the first series of Monty Python's Flying circus on DVD and quite a lot of food. Whatever fitness I had pre-study leave. It has now disappeared. In its place I have found a desire to be fit again but barely any motivation.

Nevertheless it is the end of an era, an era more commonly referred to as a school year. To mark the occasion I have tried to encourage a new beginning. By a number of methods.

Firstly, I have allowed myself to read again. For the last three months I was forbidden from reading anything that wasn't exam related, a self-imposed guilt trip. In reality and in hindsight, a different book probably would have been a welcome relief and a better way all round to not study. Thus, the day after my exams, on account of it being Bloomsday today, I began to re-trudge my way through Joyce's Ulysses. There are few feelings more rewarding than the relief, exhaustion and sense of achievement experienced at the end of the near 700 page novel. I have set out a reading list, that basically includes the backlog that stares at me from the shelf in my room. All must be read by September or I, no matter what anyone says, will be a sorry excuse for a living organism.

Number two, to get my mind and body out of exam mode, I binned a large proportion of school work; notes, essays, pointless handouts and ridiculous piles of mark schemes. This is all part of a semi regular process. I am fortunate in that my bedroom has ample space for what we in the industry call 'The Big Shift Around'. My room has approximately four and a half different combinations. Each one is only slightly altered, the main component being the bed. Unfortunately I am limited by a static, immovable wardrobe but then I remember that other people have real problems. The change reflects my change in mind, my change in mood and the change in weather. In preparation for this Irish summer, I have stationed my bed beside the radiator. The desk has taken up a less pivotal role and the emphasis is very much on relaxation. This is a subject very close to my heart. I plan to spend much of my free months in the new environment in a largely unconscious state (asleep, nothing serious). There have been a few logistical issues, as one would expect when embarking on such a task but I hope that any flaws will be ironed out in the coming days.

As Spiderman's uncle once said, with a new room layout comes a new mentality, and I couldn't agree more. However, the danger is that this new lease of life will be short-lived and within a fortnight I will be back to my squalid ways. In order to prevent any relapse I have introduced a strict (not strict) regime. The runners have been dusted off and the weights put in a place so that should anyone be in my room they will get the impression that I have been sweating embryos trying to get in shape. Of course this may be nothing more than a symbolic gesture but the hope is that their presence will be enough to implement point number three: the aforementioned lack of fitness. Here is a battlefield where I have fallen before. Last Summer my routine was disrupted by a three week spell in the Donegal Gaeltacht, this year, I have no such worries.

If my three point plan achieves a new mentality for even one month, it will be lauded as a success by all (me) and there will be much celebration and eating of food.

I would describe myself as an idealist. I hold precious the image of what times like Summer and Christmas will be like that are never fully fulfilled. The same will probably be true for this year's expectations. In my mind, this Summer will be one of drinking and thinking, sleeping, hurling, days where I can wear shorts because it is over 15 degrees outside, some good books and of course, to kick it all off, there's still two weeks left of the Euros, and quite possibly, the Euro.

Me one, complainers nil (AET)

The Man on the Street

It seems the easiest way to get publicity if you like to complain about everything is to attack the BBC. This is the most effective method of trolling. Just three thousand complaints over a four day period from an organisation that reaches the entire population of the UK and beyond is enough to grab Top News status on a nationwide scale.

During the BBC'S unabashedly Royalist TV and radio output over the queen's jubilee weekend, full of false/forced patriotism and black and white pictures, there were 3,000 complaints to the BBC with only 300 calls of congratulations (though I'd hate to meet the kind of person who was so overjoyed by what they saw on their telly box that they simply had to phone up and give a jolly good pat on the back to the beeb).  I personally would have complained more about the one-sided nature of the discussion and the panicked expressions on the faces of the presenters when they felt a waft of Republicanism or controversy. Something that was sorely missed and would have made for more interesting viewing. However people's main gripe were trivial details such as how more time was spent discussing the pretty pictures in a studio than was spent actually looking at them. Due of these three thousand complaints, people's lasting impression from the coverage will be a negative one.

Whether it was good or not isn't important and these people have the right to complain about a public service broadcaster, funded by the man on the street. The problem is that a tiny proportion of the population's opinions are being allowed to dictate public opinion, being afforded far too much clout.

The same can be said for what became known as 'Sachsgate'. The incident where Russell Brand left answer phone messages on the phone of Andrew Sachs after he had agreed to do an interview about his brief time on 'The Bill', in which Jonathan Ross blurted out "Russell f**ked your granddaughter!" The main issue with this was the fact that the elderly comedy actor had to listen to it because the messages could not be deleted. I listened to the radio show as it went out, but the unpleasant moments were overshadowed by Russell's subsequent on air apology which took the form of an ad-libbed song, "I'd like to apologise for these terrible attacks, Andrew Sachs." One of the show's funniest moments.

As I remember, the radio show which went out on a Saturday night attracted no great criticism until the complaints of three thousand people (probably the same offenders) were given the national stage on the ITV news and the complaints went up to 40,000. Of course, most of these people hadn't listened to the show, they were complaining about something they saw on the news. Something which could have been taken wholly out of context. The worst factor in this example was the fact the show was pre-recorded and checked before it was aired and sadly, Russell Brand was forced to quit in the ensuing media storm and Jonathan Ross's career has never fully recovered.

There were serious implications because of the blinkered view of the few, wrongly accepted as public opinion and then, with more publicity, it became public opinion. If the show's listeners who did not complain had joined force and complained about Russell's resignation, would the result be the same? Bluntly, there is far too much focus on the negative. Of course, the Big British Castle is not beyond criticism, though as 'the Savage Eye' on RTE2 has pointed out, many living in the North would rather stick with British Rule than lose it.

"there's far too much sex on the television. I mean, I keep falling off."

Emergency brontosaurus video

Tá easpa fuinnimh agam inniú (I have a lack of energy today). To avoid not posting at all, I give you Miss Anne Elk. I dare you not to find this funny.

 Go on.

When did 'randomness' become cool or funny?

- a 'random' picture of Richard Wagner, god! I am sooo random  -

A perception of 'randomness' seems to have seeped into our collective comedy consciousness. Putting words together like 'sheep tea pot' or 'jacuzzi nostril' could (by some, not me) be considered funny because they are 'random'. Being considered random is the aim of many a desperate, personality-less young person.

Comedians like Russell Brand were misinterpreted by others as being funny because they were random when actually their success was due to their wit and occasional silly voice, and others tried to get in on the act. Not really the blind leading the blind, more a troupe of talented entertainers being followed by a mob of wannabees (ahem...Russel Kane...ahem).

No where is this more noticeable than on children's TV. It would appear that a randomness indoctrination programme has begun to try and trick the next generation into thinking that the formula for comedy is (colour) + (animal) + (verb) + (kitchen appliance) = (first word other than 'penis' that pops into your head).

Not even our food has escaped the randomness plague. Rowntrees Randoms are not random, they are a collection of animals and objects in admittedly delicious gummy form. I would be impressed if, as I opened my overpriced green bag of fun, I were to find a scale replica of Wembley football stadium, a set of deeds to a house in Scotland, two tiny men fighting over a traffic cone, the entire Philarmonic Orchestra, a map of Lithuania, or a white-water rafting infant. These are random as they are the results of five minutes pressing 'random article' on Wikipedia and brief spell on stumbleupon.


the classic tennis-playing blancmange

As I say this, randomness, if done right can be funny. Its called surrealism. Monty Python wrote the (big red) book on the subject, just ask any intergalactic tennis-playing blancmange who's trying to buy a decent kilt. The tradition is being maintained by the likes of Vic Reeves and Noel Fielding of the Mighty Boosh.

Don't ever mistake randomness for originality or creativity. Being creative is not the same as being able to think of the most outlandish phrase in a split second.
Category B trump donkey.