Don’t Blame the Doctor

“This was exactly you! All this, all of it! You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you’d become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. “Doctor”. The word for healer and wise man, throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are… what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word “doctor” means “mighty warrior”. How far you’ve come. And now they’ve taken a child. The child of your best friends. And they’re going to turn her into a weapon, just to bring you down. And all this, my love… in fear of you.”

So long ago when he first began to travel, the Doctor never sought out trouble. It always found him in the most unfortunate of chance meetings. Which, as we learned in ‘The Doctor’s Wife’ were in fact the doing of the TARDIS, which never took him where he wanted to go, but always where he needed to. The Doctor never expressed an interest in seeking out battles, besides those he was unwittingly dragged into.

River Song speaks for everybody in the room when she delivers these harsh, humbling words to the Doctor. The man everybody thought would save the day like he always does; the man so self-assured nobody dares doubt his instruction; the man so inherently good he spends his life saving another race on another planet in return for some company. The man who failed them when they most needed him.

Except I beg to differ.

Blogging?!

I said I would blog more this year. I failed. But despite the blur of time since January 1st, there is still plenty left and I aim to fill the remainder of the year to the brim. First, the reasons for my absence:

-pure unadulterated laziness takes top spot

-college work has been unresting

-I have various ongoing projects I try to keep up with, as well as this blog.

Anyway, I have found a brief respite in which to tell you this, so my plans for the near (and not-so) future are:

-adding another year to my age

-enjoying the easter holidays

-getting fit

-doing these A level thingies

-going on holiday

-building a Dalek.

There you have it; my meager excuses for not doing what I promised. Till next time (it might be a while)…

We Deserve A Better Class Of Celebrity

People are always talking about the meaning of the word ‘celebrity’. Famous people frequently try to distance themselves from the word for fear of sounding pretentious, although I think that is sometimes a little ironic. It is often defined as somebody who is celebrated, as is the origin of the word. But I think in today’s society of pop culture, fame and glamour, naming somebody as a celebrity is seen as a label of falsity and vanity. The easiest place to find so-called celebrities is in cheap magazines which expose the shameful sins of any public figure who dares to eat a dessert. In short, calling yourself a celebrity has become a bit of a taboo.

A taboo which I oppose, because I don’t think there is anything wrong with being a celebrity. Admittedly I don’t think some people should fit into that category (the latest I’m A Celebrity lineup were hardly thriving figures) but I’m not trying to completely redefine the word. I’m simply trying to reclassify it. People like Katie Price and Paris Hilton are commonplace examples of undeserved fame, with which I agree. They shouldn’t be celebrities, but nevertheless, they are; whether we like it or not other people have an interest in them and this is the foundation on which I base my point. Being a celebrity means other people want a glimpse of what it’s like to be you. They have an unquenchable thirst for personal information satisfied, temporarily, only by words and pictures and videos and any form of media they can get their sense organs around. It doesn’t end here either: the details must be more revealing every time. Once we know their full birth name, we want their relatives’ names, their pets, their hobbies, their cars, their addresses. It’s a never-ending spiral of pure, shameless self-gratification fueled by blatant espionage. We love it. And they must love it too, or why would they enter the public eye? Everybody knows the cost – your private life, and everybody knows the rewards to be reaped – fame and money.

So the conclusion to be drawn from all this is that being a celebrity is not a bad thing. The deal is clear. And in fact, I believe rather than opposing this culture, we should expand and develop it. Allow a broader spectrum of influential, likeable figures to be a part of our daily lives. Why? Not for glorification, but for everybody’s benefit. Because I think the world deserves a better class of celebrity.

The Tragedy of an Oxymoron

I am a shy attention seeker. This is something I have come to realise recently and wish to do something about. But first, the background:

I have always been the quiet one. The one who stands in corners, doesn’t raise his hand. The introvert. When I was younger I used to say ‘mm’ and ‘mhm’ instead of yes and no; I would mumble words in the presence of adults. I grew out of that, but never quite got over the fear of speaking to strangers. I still get nervous when asking for things in shops and am infamous for not answering the phone. I guess some of this is a little unusual, but I             manage to get by in the world despite my differences. Except that this is not enough for me anymore.

I have also always been quite talented: I was the arty one, the musical one, the clever one. At an early age I enjoyed this and spent many hours doing extra things for which I was praised. But the older I got, the less special I became. Others surpassed me in and out of the classroom; I became lazier. Eventually I pretty much gave up trying to advance in the arts, resigned to my fate as a jack of all trades. I stuck with the education for mainly legal obligations. But the spirit never died in me.

More recently, I have been feeling particularly creative inside. I have had many ideas and even some forms of inspiration. Despite this, I have as of yet failed to create. My fruits did not flower or flourish; my wishful works wilted. I seem unable to substantiate my creative energies in any form other than mere thoughts. Doubt I did not, however, as I know the power of a metaphorical seed sewn in the minds of others. Words are my weapon.

Which brings us back to the present in the chronology of my narration. The here and now. The what and why, and the how. I want to put myself across, I want to share my thoughts with others and have feelings and beliefs reciprocated. But I am too shy. I am not willing to draw the necessary attention of others in the right form. So I hide behind words on a screen, hoping they might one day catch the eye of somebody willing to break that barrier and let me out of my bubble into the real world.

Tim Minchin Fan Trailer Comp

Please watch and share this for me?! Thanks.

Scott Pilgrim vs. My Life

I just saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. I loved it. The comic-style effects were a bit weird at first, but you got used to them and they really changed the dynamic of the film. Admittedly it was an unusual crossover of real-life and fantasy, but that again didn’t detract from the film, it added to it. Anyway, as I have mentioned previously, films always make me feel a sort of happy/sad that leads to me thinking about life. This one was no different.

I have been thinking over the past week or two about stuff I could do. Stuff that’s fun, creative; stuff that might be popular; stuff that might make money. I can’t really think of anything right now. Maybe it’s just me, that I’m unoriginal, unimaginative or uninspired. But I like to think I have a good imagination, and good inspiration. I dunno. Anyway, thinking of things that I’ve seen other people do, and considering those routes, makes me wonder. I can’t seem to narrow anything down specifically: I would like to write a book, write some songs, do lots of things. Whenever I try, and compare my ideas to successful ones, it makes me feel spectacularly average. I’ve always been fairly good at things I do, but as I’ve got older, others have become very good in one or two areas; I have remained okay at lots of things. I’ve done football, boxing, running, guitar, piano, art, computer stuff. Nothing seems to be my niche. It’s frustrating because I can’t seem to express all my internal emotionally charged energy in an understandable form that I, if not others, enjoy.

Keep the Change

This humbling post by Renée Schuls-Jacobson of Lessons From Teachers and Twits about keeping your change inspired me to voice my own opinion on all things fiscal. First things first, I shall lay the groundwork of my beliefs: my own position. I am a teenager in the UK. I would consider my family fairly middle class – not rich, but we very rarely go without. However this doesn’t land me in the spoiled, obnoxious category; I believe I am very aware of social and economic classes and issues, with an appreciation for the value of money.

I started getting pocket-money from my parents when I was young – primary school age – in small amounts. I received £1 every Friday (Pocket Money Day), an occasion which I always looked forward to and relished. I think this shows that I always knew money was something special, not to be taken for granted. I remember the day my parents told me they were increasing this weekly allowance, doubling it in fact. £2 per week: I was ecstatic. Things continued steadily as I aged, to £5 per week then monthly deposits in a Young Savers’ Account. I would save up for months on end on the premise of a trip to Toys ‘R’ Us. I still use the same account now, albeit for different reasons. And although I, like most kids, enjoyed spending money even more than receiving it, I was always aware that I was lucky and privileged. I didn’t have to work my fingers to the bone just to earn a treat. But money was something I was never greedy or boastful about, because I knew it was all down to my parents’ hard work.

This continues to the present day: I never take money from the counter without checking who I will owe. If I borrow money, I try to pay it back as soon as possible before spending any more.

While I do not work physically to sustain myself, I think I always do my bit. I don’t have a strict regime of chores and sometimes I can be lazy, but I still help around the house when needed, from cleaning to cooking. However my main area of expertise is academic success. I am, simply put, good in school. Always have been. I’m clever, hard-working and most importantly, respectful. And while I dream of entrepreneurial fame and fortune, I plan to stick to further education. I would love the chance to study at Manchester or Oxbridge: law or medicine or maths. Because my parents both have secure, successful careers which have allowed me the luxuries of life, such that I have become accustomed to them; I hope to reciprocate, to repay, to replicate their efforts with my own prosperity. It’s the least I can do. I am indebted to them for what they have taught me.

And I always keep my change.

Brownies, Buttercream & Bamboo

As the title suggests, this post is a major update on all the food I’ve made and eaten recently. In secret, without telling you. I know, I’m sorry, but I wanted to savour the delicious myriad of crumbs myself first. So here we go…

Sushi: from a kit I got for my birthday. Just soak and cook the rice, add filling and roll. Yum.

Cakes: I used a small three tier-mould to make one, then covered the surface in buttercream, before adding copious chocolate curls which took A LONG TIME to make, by scraping the flat side of a large chocolate bar with a sharp knife.

I then butchered the remaining mini-tiers into a Mario Mushroom shape, inspired by a much better version of the same process. Decorate with ready-to-roll icing of different colours; done.

Chocolate Brownies: Nigella’s Feast always exceeds expectations, time after time. These are some simply beautiful brownies, which you must try.

One Man in a Boat

When you see, hear or read about any kind of product design and marketing for entrepreneurs, one of the most important things that consistently appears is the need to clearly display your product. If, for example, you were selling a tent, you would show people camping; a car, people driving; etc etc… However there seems to be one major exception to this rule, for reasons unclear to me. Perfume.

Think about it. Adverts for perfume or cologne almost never show their product being used. In fact the opposite is often true. Chanel’s Allure Home Sport consists of a man taking off his shirt in a sailing boat: a fairly vigorous, sweat-inducing activity. Davidoff Cool Water portrays a man diving into the sea, from a clifftop, and swimming:  immersing yourself after applying fragrances is ill-advised as it usually washes them away. One more example, although I could go on. J’adore Dior. The advert shows a woman striding quickly and powerfully towards us (through a corridor) while taking off all her clothes. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t people usually wear perfume when getting dressed up for a night out? Isn’t it somewhat ironic that they are publicising the exact opposite? I mean, how many people (naturists excluded) would, at any time, apply a fragrance then proceed to remove all their clothes?

Therefore, the title of this blog is purposely unclear to prove my point. Or is it just me?

American English

*Warning* The following post contains tongue-in-cheek opinions some may find offensive. *Warning*

I am British. My native language is English, derived from the country of origin- England. I therefore disagree strongly with the notion of ‘American English’. There is no such thing. Americans claim that our ‘British English’ is simply a different version of the language, but that is a desperate and guilty claim. American English is, put simply, stolen.

I have to deal with the differences between the two frequently; any time I write on the computer. This was particularly an issue during my GCSE English Coursework, which had to be typed and redrafted and corrected many a time. I am quite good with the English language (for my age). I know how to spell. So it is frustrating when a fairly lengthy document typed with precision lights up like Christmas before my eyes. At first I dread having made so many mistakes, but on further inspection every wavy red line indicates a misplaced vowel.

Now I wouldn’t mind if there was some actual, major contrast between British and American spellings. But the language just enforces the stereotype of Americans being lazy. Almost every single ‘error’ I have come across is down to my (correct) British spelling containing an apparently unnecessary letter U. Colour, color; valour, valor; behaviour, behavior. Seriously? I cannot fathom any possible explanation for these variations, except that Americans are too lazy to invent their own language, so they steal ours and in an act of pure audacity shorten it by removing every single extra vowel.

I mean no offense by this declaration. I am not insulting Americans nor being prejudiced. I am simply saying, how could anybody get away with this, in any form, and does it not make Americans feel typecast into their own stereotype? What are your views? (Please bear in mind this is light-hearted and subjective, don’t abuse me…)