The Big Smoke, aka The Real World

(Photo: J.A. Alcaide)

Sorry for the new-post delay but I've been living a rather jam-packed lifestyle during my interesting transition from student to real person, with, hopefully, generating prospects.

After I finished my dissertation, and allowed a few days to say goodbye to my fellow confused friends, I headed up slightly North like I was off on holiday (but never coming back).
Essentially, you could say I have moved to London, but that would be completely misleading and a blatant lie - this would be because what I am, in a rather large nutshell, is a squatter: of the fairly legal kind.
Every morning when my brother opens his bedroom door he will find a strange man lying on a mattress in the corrider. This man is me.

There are, however, many perks about working in the city, and these are as follows:

Number 1 - Forget about going to a fancy spa (I never have), you can get a sauna of the fainting variety on the Victoria Line. It's all the rage to look like you've been for a run in the Sahara before arriving at work.

Number 2 - Lots of people where perfume/aftershave - students can't afford this luxury generally- sometimes this is a good smell but sometimes it's like having a bag of dried fruit slapped in your face, repeatedly.

Number 3 - Tourists always seem happy (why wouldn't they...they're on holiday!)- although they also seem to walk insanely slow and trap you as you attempt to pass them.

Number 4 - Lots of London workers lunch in expensive outlets- I have been trying to make my own sandwiches to save money, but a) they go off in the heat b) I make them and then leave them behind accidentally.

Number 5 - Everyone thinks they're a celebrity - what I mean by this is, particularly in the area near where I am doing my internship in central London, a considerable amount of people wear sunglasses, which is normal when there is sun. But, when you're on a tube, with not the best lighting, there is still a large amount looking like they're hiding from the paparazzi.

Number 6 - For all these things it's actually a lot of fun (I'm not sure my brother agrees).

The Narnia of Essex

- STA World Traveller Internship update

It's been a busy few days, to say the very least.

I've had possibly less sleep than Jack Bauer and I've been almost as action-packed, although, off course, a little less dangerous.
Last weekend I ran around my home town in Essex much like an inadequate athlete, with a tripod, and the odd mate, to film my STA final video - I am now in the top ten of this crazy internship competition and it's getting very exciting.


As I filmed my video I had people chanting at me from the street as I attempted to down a local oyster - truth be told there were two, and I threw the first one up, of which I went to put in the bin, but managed, somehow, to drop on the floor. And much like Britain's Got Talent people cheered, and jeered, from all around, like a mob - I should point out a nice one. Furthermore, it was rather strange being clapped when I finally popped the local seafood 'treat' down, but I guess I can say it's an accomplishment and at least it stayed down.


I also cut my foot rather badly getting into the boat in one of the last shots, and the saltwater made the cut look like I had been the victim of GFH (grievous foot harm), in-fact I believe it was damaged on an oyster on the muddy beach, which was probably intent on getting revenge on the death of it's family member eaten/thrown up earlier on. This foot-related damage, by the way, was painful.


Further to this, I acquainted myself with many a local I didn't know: Bruce, "I like anything with speed in it", is a highlight for me. I literally flagged him down off the water, and he later said I could come out sailing with him anytime: legend. He has sailing videos of him losing "man overboard" on youtube apparently!
I also tested many a local ale as part of my Essex exploration, and for free: what a good surprise that turned out to be.


And well, I think I should explain my Narnia theme: basically I live in a cupboard in my student house, and often a casual guest in my home refers to my pad as the boiler room. It's not that bad, but people often don't realise this 'place' is actually my accommodation. More precisely one individual once looked into my room and said it was like opening the door to Narnia, hence my exploration of this idea in my hometown, because Burnham is essentially the Narnia of Essex, and not necessarily something people may expect to find from a county with a generally unfavorable image.


So anyway, here's my final video and if you like what you see, you may well not, vote for me here (thanks):





If you would like to purchase one of the modeled shell suits, the local charity shop in the above featured town is a fantastic place to grab a one-piece - I tried to film inside this second-hand haven but I was not allowed.

Right, must dash, I've got a meeting with the devil/dissertation, and I currently have very little to discuss.

My first time on skis

30/03/2010 (It's been a busy few weeks)

This will be explained:

Last weekend, on the rainy Saturday, a 'good' friend of mine informed me he was going to test out his new skis on the dry slope just a short drive away from where we study in Bournemouth.

After telling me his plans, he enthusiastically suggested that I join him on skis, which now seems a rather spontaneously naive idea considering I had never tried out this activity before, and he has a dark sense of humour.

Granted I've snowboarded for a while now, but like Luke Skywalker, I've been trying to resist the dark side of the piste planet, but the mate in question, David Row, or for this event, Darth Vader, thought it was the best idea he had had in along time.

Now I know why.

As we arrived at the slope in the pouring rain I came to the realisation that I am neither a fan of these rather steep, hard slopes, or that it was the best idea for me to test them out; having never skied before. Dave, however, was less concerned:

"You will be absolutely fine," he said, "I'll give you all the tips you need."

Too be fair his motivational skills did have me believing I was going to become some sort of downhill Olympic champion (Bode Miller in-fact if you watch the video further down) - off course this did not happen.

The turning point I think was when we queued up to pay for the ski gear and the lady at the desk asked: "Tick here to confirm you are a competent skier and you can manage to get up and down the slope without any problems."

With Dave digging in my back like some sort of bank robber I ticked, my hand slightly shaking at the thought of signing away my dignity.

Then, after putting my skis on I waddled much like a constipated penguin along to the mid-way point of the hard slope, again being willed on by Darth/Dave. As I reached the precipice of my downhill adventure, I turned around to Darth for the vital advice I needed to begin my skiing career and make it down the slope safely. But Dave was smiling rather weirdly, clearly holding back chuckles from his grimacing face, and as I pestered him for pointers he proceeded to push me along; nearer and nearer to the slope.

"You're going to be good at this," he had announced as we left the safe compounds of the centre. I was less confident.

In no uncertain terms I assured him this wasn't going to be a success in less he gave me some clearer instructions.

Before I knew it I was 'blasting' down the track like Usain Bolt, but with no idea how to stop, and although I can't deny the extreme adrenaline rush I felt, shooting through the yellow inflatable piste barriers into the children's sledging area on just my second run was not a highlight.

As I looked up Dave was on the floor - no, unfortunately he hadn't fallen over, he was in hysterics.

"Now go to the top," he attempted to shout through increased laughter.

I knew what he had in mind and I was going to prove him wrong. So I bravely tackled the button lift and hitched right to the top of the slope; a place, which for first-timers, is a bit like a sweet shop for the overweight - you shouldn't be there. And I knew it.

But I was on a one-way mission to master these two obstacles attached to my feet - forget the beginner bandwagon, like 50 Cent, I wanted to pimp that piste.

So I launched myself off the top, rather apprehensively, and I began to 'ski' down.

In an effort not to look too amateur I decided to straight-line the piste area, which, consequently, did not go down particularly well with the instructor at the bottom.

As I reached the man in the official jacket he told me rather sternly that should I do that again I would not be allowed back.

In my mind I'd made rather good work of a bad situation, however I did then decide to call it a day.

I went up to Dave smiling, and then winded him in the stomach with a ski pole - we are still good friends but next time I'm getting an instructor.

In-fact we're going on the university ski trip soon and I've suggested he try out snowboarding for the first-time, because as we all know, revenge is sweet.

For proof of this event here is this video...my face may confirm the fact we had been out the night before:

Wish You Were Here

There are many situations in every day life where I would prefer to shy away from selling myself like an Ebay item; the all-eyes-on-me factor is an element I find closely linked with the "I'm fantastic", boobs-out, gun-show, from reality show wannabes.

But for the STA World Traveller Internship I have recently applied for (the videos are in the posts below), although the application involved broadcasting myself, the prize was something hugely worthwhile; to travel the world for three months. This would include filming, taking photos, and blogging about such exotic experiences.

Think Judith Charmers on Wish You Were Here, but more far-flung, and hopefully slightly more manly.

Therefore my ambitions to suceed have meant I have had to step out of my comfort zone and attempt to 'charm' the judges through the visual medium. Please don't laugh yet.

Part of the competition means asking for people to vote for me, which at times has seemed a bit like a Miss/Mr World competition - at one point I felt like adding in world peace as an extra incentive for my prospective voters.

But HOW have I campaigned? Well, let me take you on a little journey via my trusty Facebook account.

Here is it how it all began: after I uploaded my video a few of my friends took on the campaign immediately - one of my housemates I believe would be a good asset to Gordon Brown right now:

Then I took on the baton:

As you can see, much like Clairol, I tried the nice and easy option - slowly, slowly, catchy monkey.

Then to avoid repetition I publicised the longer interview with the rather hilarious Austrian girl to try and lure my unsuspecting YouTube savvy friends back to my STA page.

At this point, fearful in the knowledge that my Facebook counterparts may have begun to bore of my situation, I tried to up my game and be a little more inventive:

Perhaps more recently I have become a tad desperate:

Before you get too concerned, I would suggest 80% of my friends have a good sense of humour.

Now, today is the last day of first-round voting, so I've decided to go back to the old-skool and keep things rather simple, therefore hoping those who have been in bed for the past couple of weeks will now wake up to my call.

I can only hope.

If you want you can still vote.

What a poor rhyme, I apologise.

"English people are weird": Yes, I'd agree with that

I present you more footage from my STA World Traveller Internship application (my full video is in the post further down and it'd be nice if you voted for me here).

Below is an extended interview with the hilarious Austrian girl.

Here's her take on us English, and more:

By the way, I know it's bad that I did not initially spot the seafront/Vienna error - we all get things wrong in the heat of the moment!

Welcome to my world

Here is my rather random entry into the STA World Traveller Internship.

If you think I'm alright then perhaps you could vote for me here

(no registration required). Thanks.

Student of the week: Anisha Ale

Many people in life experience misfortunes; unfortunate circumstances which can often be shoved enthusiastically under the carpet, like a dead person.

However, when you have friends with mouths similar to an erupting Mount Etna it is not always the case - keeping a fantastic secret is a bit like being in Harry Potter, you need a wand to shut someone's mouth.

In this case I'm glad there are no magic sticks available as this story is one to be shared among friends.

Meet Anisha Ale, who I, like many of my friends had forgotten was actually born in Nepal, a culturally interesting fact which only came to light very recently when she was forced to take some sort of British 'exam' to renew her passport.

Like a Christmas present, this golden piece of information should of been kept under wraps, but her good 'friend' Rachael Edwards, the key to the forbidden fruit, wanted to catch Santa Claus coming down the chimney - she informed many of our circle of mates that Anisha had gotten herself into a minor situation.

A foreign one.

The exam, which came as quite a surprise to us all, was apparently multiple choice, so it was quite a shock when I was told Anisha had apparently "failed" it, according to her housemate Rachael.

Anisha had actually passed. Her housemate had lied, but it was worth it.

Too be fair Anisha is more British than most of us - for example, I would suggest that most of my housemates, including myself, would struggle to sing all the words to the national anthem:

"God save our gracious Queen. Long live our noble Queen. God save our Queen. Blah, blah, blah, bahdey blah........God save our Queen"

So I wouldn't say we were exactly patriotically fluent. The heart is there though.

This did not stop the 'Petition to stop Anisha Ale getting deported' Facebook group - all in good faith.

And the latest passport renewal process is the 'ceremony' later this month, where she has to meet with the Bournemouth Major and sing the national anthem; a fact which is being celebrated by many a student who knows her well.

Not only for Anisha, but for all of her mates, it is going to be a momentous occasion.

I would say we are putting the event on the same scale as the Olympics, and are wholly encouraging her to carry a burning torch - to set the place alight.

As well as all this, as one of the very privileged invitees I've strongly suggested she wear my head cam I use for skiing. Therefore to capture, first-hand, the experiences of such a bizarre ceremony.

Mock My Week wishes Anisha Ale luck, and hopes she will now become a prominent feature on this blog.

Valentine's Day Massacre - almost

Me and three of my rather bitter single mates distracted our minds from looming deadlines on this Clinton's making-money-day by getting out of our cold house (heating = debt increase) and visiting one of Dorset's scenic spots near our university.

The photos below at Lulworth Cove show how things got a little out of hand with the 'ten second timer' in conjunction with the 'multiple-shot' function on my camera. Leaping into the visual rather too over enthusiastically I nearly caused us all to spontaneously tombstone into the water below - this, the flamboyant description of Anya (below), but I would say this is a major overreaction.

I was simply having a good time - forgetting about my slow-moving dissertation.

Off course, I have since apologised, and would like to clarify Anya is my friend.

Happy/unsuspecting.

Is it a giant bird?

No.

Is it a drunk walker?

No.

It's me, and my best friend, Cliff Edge.

Sorry, but Anya you do jump easily.

Alan Titchmarch? No, my fellow students, I'm afraid not

From this:

To this:

(in a number of easy steps - not including the wine)

The average student prides themselves with being able to skimp and save, and spend as little on food as they can. It's essentially a competition:

"Have you seen the deal on at the corner shop, it's two for one on those curries in a can," said one university friend.

"Ah, but it's buy three meals in a bag and get two free at the Golden supermarket," another announced in reply.

Unfortunately, when those buying into these 'amazing' deals start looking like living corpses it becomes apparent you cannot live off these bargains every night of the week.

At this point, I should immediately point out that the grow-your-own method is unlikely to take off in the student market or end such health-reducing buys.

But let me take you back to a jumble sale at the end of last year and a very Ground Force moment when I was temporarily misled by the idea.

One of my friends, Oliver Robinson, a Del Boy from Leicestershire, started talking to the wide-eyed-hippy-glasses-wearing-owner of a chili plant stall. Suddenly charmed by growing his own hot crops, Oliver persuaded me and two other mates to also buy into this soil hobby of the plant pot kind.

I can't say I wasn't taken in by this drug dealer of the plant world; the stall owner said we could call him at anytime - like Childline for the vegetable community. I did double check the shape of the leaves - I wasn't going to turn my house into a cannabis cavern.

Basically, it was like having a plant agony aunt, but in a more manly sense of the phrase, and we could cook curries and have the hot part fresh, and for free.

So it began quite well, a Facebook group was even set up to track the progress of our plants, because we were in-fact quite competitive about the future size of our chilies.

Unfortunately the novelty soon wore off; my housemate's ambitious compost was thrown out the back door and his plant was knocked off the windowcill during a house party.

He called foul play, but my own had been caught in a minor apocalypse - left behind my oversized curtain next to the radiator on a number of cold nights.

Don't do this at home:

The 'chili' specimen:

What they look like now:

As you can see, the chili plants have been literally obliterated. I say 'chili' with caution, because after growing one green specimen, shown above, I found it to have no seeds inside or carry any form of heat.

I believe that the plants were actually of the boring green pepper kind.

Good riddance.

...........

All this talk of grow-your-own reminds me of a project I filmed last year - look out for the moldy beetroot and rotting carrot:

Growth in Grow Your Own from Harry Harris on Vimeo.

No to the BNP at Universities

 

Sorry for the serious tone today, but the decision to cancel the Multiculturalism debate at Durham University involving two bozos from the BNP has got to be the right decision. 

How the University ever thought it beneficial to invite BNP MEP National Front lover Andrew Brons (MP for Yorkshire and Humber), and Chris "I don't hate Hitler" Beverley (BNP councillor in Leeds) is beyond me.

What inspirational men. 

 

I don't see how either of these 'politicians' could give valuable points within a debate on a multi-ethnic community. 

The Durham University Society had also invited political commentator Kulveer Ranger, and Conservative MP Edward Leigh, but cancelled the whole thing because of proposed violent protests and intimidation to staff and students. 

It'll be interesting to see where this one goes with this Freedom of Speech Facebook Group by Durham students. 

I'm all for Freedom of Speech, but not when the speech comes from people who have the previous history of these men. 

Nick Griffin on the BBC was an interesting way of opening up the debate and hearing the opinions of politicians and the public, but allowing BNP members to speak at a university, on an election year, sounds like part of a campaign. No thank you.

I'm just glad my University, down South, has so far stayed clear of this fascist flop of a political party.

How to be a Matrix-styled news presenter

As a journalism student soon to be graduating from university perhaps I should forget the studying and start watching Matrix films for style tips - it's a tempting option. Here's Charlie Brooker with his very sarcastic TV news masterclass:

The scene where Brooker walks towards the camera like 'he's gliding through the

fucking Matrix' could well have been conjured up from this clip, as Neo

and Trinity sweep through the 'lobby'. I imagine they are talking about

the problems of gun crime.

In addition to this quirky film reference, journalists, like Matrix characters,

can also react with action in the face of unfortunate situations.

Blue Wednesday

So it was student-saving time on 'cheap Wednesdays' at the cinema yesterday, and there's that dramatic looking post-apocalyptic film out, The Road, which seems to be marketed as action-orientated, as well as slightly heart warming.

I'm no Bruce-Willis-styley obsessive but the trailer really is barking up a rather exotic tree.

The speedy montages and drastic boom-boom-boom sound effects in the clip below suggest the film is a high octane thriller, when in-fact it's very downbeat, apart from the odd occasion when the father and son are being chased by man-eating gangs - a full blown cannibalistic element which sees missing legs and scarily hungry humans; completely stepped over in the fast-paced 'Day After Tommorrow' themed promo.

The editor of this trailer deserves an Oscar for The Most Revved Up Trailer In Comparison To The Real Film. Catchy eh. Have a watch:

The Road from postadsgroup on Vimeo.

In the actual film version I, and my housemates watched, there is also no explanation as to why the world is in such a diabolical state, but the trailer will have you believing there is 'one event'. An event which clearly got lost on the films passage to British shores - the first few climate change style scenes are not in the film.

If you want a slightly more accurate depiction of the film's dark themes check out this rather disturbing clip.

One other point, and this is my final criticism, is the severe amount of product placement in The Road, well noted here.

The film is, however, far from rubbish, it's actually quite depressingly moving, but it's just not what you might expect by a long way. And you might want to grab a beer after, or whatever cheers you up - I'm not an alcoholic.

Filming drama - Man down

After practicing shorthand today I needed something to cheer me up, so I looked through clips of my fox hunting documentary - I'll post the video soon!

If you haven't read the blog about my filming escapades in Shropshire you won't know that my quickly trained cameraman, David 'Rural' Row, loves the ground:

Warning: Brief shock expletives

Camerman accident from Harry Harris on Vimeo.

Are you a MUGG?

As I have stated before I am no Vogue wannabe; fashion is far from my forte, you've seen the Christmas jumper - although I do try to dress more hip than David Dickinson, as well as taking advice from my good friend and style guru Jun Chan. But there is a certain recent clothing development around my university which is, to say the least, troubling me. 

This is the noticeably rapid rise in the male student wearing the UGG boot, which I have currently nicknamed the MUGG:

Man-wearing-UGG(s).

It's bad enough when I see an attractive girl and then my eyes find themselves at these sheepskin shovels, but now it's clear the average man also thinks it's cool to boot up just because we've had a bit of snow and they want a bit of Australia down below.

I am, off-course, originally from Essex, and I'm really hoping this is not a craze which started there, although I should admit it was the location of a few primary sightings.

In the county's defence it did take quite a brunt of the snow, and I have seen scatterings of MUGGs in other places, like here in Dorset and in East London. 

The Sun has also pointed out a few famous men who are following the MUGG trend - it's not on.