| (no subject) |
[Jul. 10th, 2009|05:19 pm] |
Turns out.... my chapter is not a load of bollocks: I'm a PhD student producing work at PhD level that's worthy of inclusion in my PhD. Awesome sauce. Need to edit down some of my exposition and develop the argument in on area to take account of something else that needs to be acknowledged but will support my broader argument when I do so.
This also means I beat Homi Bhabha succeeded in using Homi Bhabha to say something that makes sense.
Have a few different bits and bobs to do now and can relax in comparison to most of this year so far: editorial work for the journal of literature and science (having landed the job of editorial assistant there), an edited collection of essays on literary tourism in the nineteenth century which I've been assigned to review / annotate for the ABES bibliography and a few other things. Will ultimately begin to do some exploratory reading of a few more texts and pull my existing ideas together for Chapter two: the amendments to Chapter One can take place as and when and may benefit from my progressing the argument a little more.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 10th, 2009|06:29 am] |
|
Right then.... off to Wales for a proper PhD supervisory meeting to see if my chapter is a load of bollocks.... |
|
|
| Week of Warcraft |
[Jul. 4th, 2009|09:36 pm] |
DAY ONE
Ah, forest. This must be where you kill all the boars. Hmmm: no boors though... there's a wolf... a 'young' wolf. Is that wrong? Best kill it anyway. --------------------------------- Yes, that's right I am a hero. You want someone to kill kobolds? But, you see, I'm killing wolves. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why I'm killing wolves, but there were no boors and this thing took six hours to patch so I may as well be killing something.... kobolds in the mine you say? Just round the corner from the abbey? Next to the villagers? Who are ignoring them completely? I'll get right on to it. ----------------- Aha! Level 3! That'll show those kobolds. Though I don't recall hitting level 2.... must have been the wolves. ---------- Tada! Your kobold problems are solved sir! No longer shall their presence mildly perturb this abbe.... what's that? There are MORE of them? In a different mine? Just down the road from here? er.... ok.... but after that I really have to get back to those wolves. --------------- Right. All the kobolds are dead. Well... not all of them. 15 of them. Here are their pocket handkerchiefs as requested. There are a few more and, now I think of it, they seem to keep reappearing, but you said to kill fifteen and I've killed fifteen. That is OK isn't it? It is? Fantastic, well, I'll be on my.... sorry? No, I've already killed your kobolds. Oh. In another mine you say? Different kinds of kobolds? Blue ones with an extra word in their title? Are you sure about this? Because, you know, I've never actually seen you move... you say there are all these kobolds, but all you ever seem to do is stand here and talk to people like me. In fact, didn't that dwarf there just pass you fifteen pocket handkerchiefs?------------------------ And to think I once spent my time killing kobolds. Ha. These fetch quests are much more rewarding. As soon as I've given these 4 spiffleblossoms and six squiggleroots to Major McMajorson at the tower of defending the river of the marking of the ending of the map I'll be ready to hit level 5............. *is informed of real world news. pauses play briefly* ..... you there, passing gnome, is it true that Michael Jackson's dead?
DAY TWO
You know, if these NPCs weren't so lazy, I'd sure have a lot less to do. No wonder all the farms around here are covered in weird golem monsters. -------------- Sorry? What do you mean I look rubbish? You're a pink haired midget on a giant elephant and you're calling me rubbish? Can't you see my snazzy facemask and green cape? What's that? Yes, it just so happens that I AM a noob, but we all have to start somewhere. Oh that's right. Just you march off on your big elephant. Wait until I'm level 60. Then you'll see. --------- Level 16! Woohoo! Maybe I'll be able to stop killing bandits and giant wolves soon.... those reskins aren't fooling anyone. ------------ lalalala.... I wonder what happens if I go to the edge of this map befoee doing all the easy stuff ------- %£%!ing hell it's a long way back to my corpse. Next time I'm totally using the spirit healer to instantly resurrect. ----------
DAY THREE
What's that young level seven elf? You need help killing the elite gnoll on the edge of elwynn forest? And you're asking me? Ahem... well, I guess I could find some time in my busy level 19 schedule to help you... now, if I can just remember how I set up my hotkeys ------------- Right. Time to be 'boosted' ... just need to sit back here and follow my friend through the dungeon without getting into any fights myself. Just do this then bed. At 4am. ------- WOOOOOO! I have BLUE weopon! Two of them! One in each hand! The same item! Twice.... that makes no sense... but fuck it: WOOOOO! I have a blue weopon! ------------------
DAY FIVE
I wonder what level Andy Murray is. If only I could mouseover the characters on the tv screen too....
DAY SEVEN
Ha. No more getting killed in Duskwood now. My super powerful level 24 character can just about handle these giant spiders and dire wolves. Someone should really clean up the cobwebs around here though. -------- Wtf.... giant zombie monster marching down road.... some kind of special instance... well, I didn't trigger it so it'll leave me alone, surely? Bloody hell, I can't even see what level this thing is. AAARGH FUCK!!!! ------- Wow. I had no idea something could you with one hit. ----------------- Right. That's all your skeletal horrors killed. Yes, here are their finger bones. Yes, I'll take your magic totem now. I'm actually going to sell it to that vendor over there because, as you can see, my offhand has a rather large knife in it. You're not upset about that are you? Hmm... are you not talking to me because you are upset, or is it simply that you're run out of script. You do seem to be talking to that weird blue guy with the ponytail. Hello? Hello? Screw you then. ------------- Rot blossoms? Grow in the skulls of skeletal horrors do they? Really? They grow, inside the skull, of an undead monster? Pardon me, but that doesn't sound very plausible. You want ten of them. Ok... um... didnt you see me talking to the woman over there ealrier? The one I went and killed a bunch of skeletal horrors for? Because, if you'd just bloody well called out and told me that you could do with the contents of their skulls, I might not have to go all the way back to the cemetary to kill another load. *sigh* --------------
DAY EIGHT
This cemetary's even bigger than that last one. All sorts of crazy monsters in it too.... skeletons.... giant spiders..... giant green spiders....big black wolves.... armoured skeletons..... zombies..... red zombies..... big gold skeleton.... man with spade..... wait a second. Man with spade? REALLY?!? *mouseover* 'Grave robber.' Ah, right. But doesn't he realise that the cemetary is full of walking dead? Doesn't that make it a bit unsafe to be graverobbing.... come to think of it, does he even need that spade? Oooh, he's coming over. Ouch. Why are you attacking me with a spade? Can't you see I have two BLUE daggers? Are you an idiot? Ouch. ------------------- I can't fucking believe he killed me with a spade.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 3rd, 2009|02:43 pm] |
|
So... I keep hearing all this stuff on the news about dodgy spam emails offering to sell Tamiflu, yet all I'm getting is fake viagra and penile enhancement spam. On the plus side, it seems the internet has decided I don't need to worry about swine flu.... but it does appear to think me sexually incapable. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2009|07:39 pm] |
Well, I've had an interesting day: round trip to Wales for a training session in preparation for a Welsh branch of the Researchers in Residence scheme. The latter is a way of partnering academic researchers (research students / doctoral candidates and above) with secondary schools in order to inform and inspire pupils with a sense of professional research and the kind of people that work in it. The logic being - quite accurately I think - that academic research is difficult to render transparent to an outsider in the same way as other jobs and professions and that it's a missed opportunity for school students not to have any real sense of how their subjects exist outside of the grind of comprehension and examination within a rigidly pedagogical curricula.
I signed up because I've always had an interest in teaching in a broader context and it sounds like a fun activity. Plus, I'm sufficiently idealistic still to think that studying literature and culture is fascinating and should be opened up to as many people as possible. Particularly as an alarming number of school leavers seem to think that all their peers go on to do at undergrad and beyond is plough through the world's books deciding what everything 'means.'
We went through various activities which gave me some interesting insight into my wife's profession (primary school teacher) and my own 'intelligence' within the context of the Gardner seven intelligences system (primarily linguistic and musical am I, but not remarkably logical). Perhaps the most interesting part of the experience was being gradually enabled to see my own highly specialised field of study from the general perspective of an outsider. I went in thinking that, whereas the physical and social scientists would have to avoid or translate jargon such as genetics, adaptive methodology, ethical principles, etc, I would need to avoid discourse, epistemology, deconstruction, defamiliarisation, etc. In fact it soon became apparent that the biggest jargon challenge I might have to contend with would simply be the term Gothic itself. It also dawned on me that, being in front of a bunch of secondary school students, this might be a fairly 'fun' term to be handling in general. I'm as used to it being tricky to explain what the Gothic 'is' and it's something I'm often asked. The direct questions answer themselves quite easily: it is in fact possible to answer 'what's a Gothic novel then?' with a very specific genre at a very specific time and, if necessary, to explain your interest in that topic by pointing out that it was the first major example of what we now know as 'pulp' or 'genre' fiction. Of mass market popular media even. Getting beyond that to the 'Gothic' in culture, in general, and even explaining or coherently defining the 'tradition' of gothic writing, is much more tricky however. Primarily because our culture frequently demonstrates a useless and even completely absurd grasp of 'genre' as a concept with any kind of capability to provide a robust description of anything. What should be a means of categorising and relating the relationships of different 'texts' (forms if you prefer) and their evolution is instead a minefield of subjective piffle and arbitrary judgement that achieves the opposite effect and couldn't really care less. For hilarious examples you need look no further than a copy of a popular music magazine reacting to a new buzz artist. That being the case, the kind of geneological understanding of genres within the history of cultural production that (in my opinion) is best adapted to offer a helpful description of the Gothic, is pretty much impossible to assume or achieve. Try and go beyond that to an even more complex description of how something like the Gothic occupies and operates within a post-enlightenment episteme occupied by and articulated through scientific method and you're basically talking gibberish. This is probably excusable on the basis that, by this point, we are actually doing academic work in the humanities and can probably excuse a lack of expertise in any 'lay' attendees. It's also not the fault of those individuals that the idea of a non-scientific episteme is probably completely alien to them and, like some of science's own more vociferous practitioners, they can only really concieve of an invalid scientic episteme.
None of these problems will be an issue with secondary students of course. Instead they'll all almost certainly be headed off by another area of inquiry... 'What's all this got to do with Marilyn Manson and stuff then?'
I'm designing my lesson plan accordingly and my victims pupils can expect to witness the first sequence of powerpoint slides ever to flick through Count Dracula, Brian Warner and Alaric I.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 29th, 2009|04:53 pm] |
|
You know, I rarely watch it and don't entirely understand how it works, but I have never seen a game of Deal or No Deal go well. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 29th, 2009|11:57 am] |
I really need to start reading the paper on the day I buy it, but there's something fairly surreal in having lunch to the sound of today's news whilst flicking through some of yesterday's; in this case, the Independent on Sunday which, like everyone else, is mostly talking about tennis and Michael Jackson. Well, I don't really care about the tennis one way or another and the Michael Jackson thing has really only served to illustrate just how precious a commodity wit has become along with giving a field day to the banality of the twitter phenomenon - would you believe it, gajillions of people are 'sad' that Michael Jackson is dead. Oh web 2.0, where would we be without you?
Reading something in that aforementioned paper, however, has made me aware that the Jackson spectacle may well illustrate another odd feature of our mass networked culture. Everyone feels the need, as Sophie Heawood writes, to pass their judgement, as if to feel 'we're doing our moral job.' She gives some examples of the dafter limits of this ('will it be OK to play his records now?' a friend asks her) and points out just how pointless the endeavour might be through a neat example: 'listen to Michael on a Jackson Five record [and] you're listening to the sound of an abused child. If you listen to his most recent recordings, it's quite possibly the sound of a child abuser. Where do you draw the line?' The sensible answer is that you don't actually have to if your primary interest is the music itself - the quality of which remains - and if, alternatively, your drive is to appraise the man's life then, not only is the endeavour absurd, but it's also just a little incongruous. Do something else perhaps.
That's all on Jackson from me.
Elsewhere in yesterday's paper, I can't help but feel fairly ambivalent in my response to the apparently 'controversial' and 'necessary as ever' Pink List: 'the year's roster of the 101 most influential gay and lesbian people in Britain today.' On the one hand I wouldn't argue for a second with the justification that Gay and Lesbian achievement, cultural contribution and identity deserves recognition, but, at the same time, I'm left wondering if the paper's glee at it's self confessed 'controversy' doesn't undermine that claim a little and suggest that its aim is to challenge that culture as much as to recognise an important involvement therein. Myself, I'm somewhere on the fringe of the 'does it really matter?' crowd, though with a willingness to acknowledge a few caveats. I didn't know that Derren Brown was gay, or Scott Mills, but that may have a lot to do with the fact that I'm fairly indifferent to both. The revelation of their sexuality won't make much difference to that. On the other hand, I'm sceptical of comedians in particular whose routine is incapable of stretching beyond sexuality stereotypes: I remember being a little bewildered when Alan Carr first appeared a few years ago and wondering why people wanted another stand-up whose material was more or less reducible to 'I'm gay! I say things that you think gay people say! I make slightly self-deprecating jokes about myself! HAHAHAHA! .... I'm so, not, Graham Norton. Honestly.' Now it seems the powers that be have decided Mr Carr is a grower and to be developed through some nice radio spots and tv hosting in which we'll all fall in love with his personality. Except he doesn't seem to have one. On the one hand you have personalities for whom being gay appears irrelevant. On the other you have gay people for whom any other personality appears impossible. The former don't need institutions like the the Pink List and the latter would quite possibly evanesce without it.
Far more men than women on there too, which is perhaps interesting. Either because there actually are, or because I notice the men more. I can't be bothered to count and see.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 28th, 2009|03:50 pm] |
Well, here I am editing the PhD chapter before submitting it by email tomorrow morning. It started the day at 22.7K and is now at 21.4. Ideally it needs to be within 20. Not entirely sure if I'll manage it, but I'll certainly get closer. I've been through and removed any redundent examples - material that strengthens the argument and which a researcher concerned to prove their work naturally adds in therefore, but which subsequent reflection on the written piece can reveal as superfluous - and repetitious passages or restatements. Now it's mainly a case of pruning the prose where possible: kicking out any redundant adjectives, tightening phrasing and clipping any quotations that are longer than strictly necessary: quotes are the bane of writing in most Humanities subjects concerned with the analysis of cultural materials in textual form and Literary Studies especially. I think there's probably at least 1K in there. Thankfully endnotes aren't included.
In other news... I went along to the 'Music Appreciation' evening at another house in the village last night. It was really quite good fun: I was the youngest there by at least a decade and half the age of at least two or three other attendees but didn't feel it. Either I'm an old git, they're all young at heart, or generation gaps really aren't relevant where music and alcohol are concerned. I think the latter may have it.
The routine involved everyone sitting in the lounge with various beverages (ranging from the host's home-brew to the wine everyone brought a bottle of) and taking it in turns to present two tracks to the group which were discussed as the mood took us, allowed to be background as necessary or a combination of the two depending on where you were in the room. The theme for this evening was blues and the selections before mine ranged across Joe Crocker, the Blues Brothers and Chuck Berry. I opened by explaining that Black Sabbath were blues, which was accepted by the group. I then told them how, in the early nineties, a bunch of kids in the Palm Desert were rather partial to Sabbath and the like and used to get together for big parties and gigs out on the sands. But, because they had no electricity they had to use generators and, because the 'venue' had no acoustics whatsoever - a bloody massive expanse of absolute flatness - conventional music didn't carry and people therefore did very strange things with 'the blues.' Things like playing guitars through bass amps, repeating motifs and developing songs very slowly, hitting the drums very very hard indeed and generally writing soming of the thickest, most unique riffs ever.
Having done this I pressed play on Kyuss's 'Demon Cleaner.'
Went down a lot better than I expected.
Later on, once everyone was a bit drunk, I even got some Boris in. I was also only one of two people to play Jazz at a blues themed night. Jaco Pastorious of course.
....
I'm aware that work on the chapter and.... ahem... cough.... ahem.... have lead to a lack of Sim updates. Not sure if anyone was still reading them and I was starting to lose interest in writing them myself, but, for any anxiously 'watching this space' I can inform you that when I last left him Rob had had the babysitter back over, she was now legal.... and she was in his bed.
Though he wasn't.... he was playing on the computer. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|10:50 pm] |
|
Patching Wow took so long Michael Jackson died. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|09:02 pm] |
Today, as a reward for getting the chapter draft completed, I purchased World of Warcraft. I've never played an MMO before, always been intrigued, have a very good friend who's been playing for a while and, most importantly, am convinced of my own ability to rise above compulsive addiction to any one aspect of my life and leisure.
Went into Swindon (walked three miles, got bus) and picked up the very reasonably priced Battlechest box, containing the game, the first expansion, a month's subscription, a strategy guide for the game and a strategy guide for the expansion, all for £14.99. Got home around six. Installed.... and have since watched three massive patches / updates download.... with any luck I may actually play the game at some point today and will probably enjoy it. All I can say so far, however, is that Blizzard really should think about updating their boxed software a little - having to pull down nearly 4gb of updates is a tad insane.
EDIT: ....and now it's downloading another one...
EDIT EDIT: ...and another two, the latter of which is 880 megs. This is utterly ridiculous: no wonder people playing this game are notorious for having no free time otherwise. I've sunk three and a half hours into it and haven't even begun to play yet.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|10:45 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Yes - And You and I: Cord of Life/Eclipse/The Preacher the Teacher/Apocalypse (Alternate, early, mix | ] |
I've just finished the draft of my first PhD chapter, something I've been researching in various forms since starting in winter 2007 (though, obviously, with a significant amount of that time spent conceiving and refining a general thesis in the first place), researching and planning since the beginning of 2009 and writing with lots of interruptions (what with marriage and all) since the end of April. It's almost certainly not going to make it unchanged into any finished thesis that actually faces a viva, but it is, nonetheless, a complete expression of the first part of my research and argument and, by proxy, the first time I've written any of this argument in a complete form (discounting the two conference papers related to it that I have last Autumn).
I'm not universally happy with it and it might be completely broken. The conclusion doesn't really feel right, but that may be due to the oddity of concluding an argument that's still, technically, in motion at this point, as the second chapter, having originally been conceived as part of the first is set to benefit from its exposition. It may also be that I've had to crumple the conclusion against the word-barrier a little, even with the draft standing at 2.8k over anyway. I'll need to make edits before I submit this.
Right now, I'm going to run round the village naked and hug people. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|09:42 am] |
Fear Factory pull out of Sonisphere:
I am writing to each and every one of you to relay important information regarding the Fear Factory concerts between June 21, through August 15. We regretfully are informing you that we are postponing these dates in Europe, to schedule for later dates. These particular dates are being postponed in order that we as Fear Factory may finalize the writing and recording of our new music. We are aware that this album will be a very important recording for each of us in Fear Factory. That this album has to be sonically incredible for each and every one of you who are sincerely interested in listening to this latest creation. In order for Fear Factory to create the album of our career, we must focus and work diligently to engineer our rhythms of mechanical death. We feel that rushing to release this recording will not be beneficial to the craft of our manufacturing.
Translation:
We, like, totally forgot which two chords it is we use, pro-tools has crashed and we can't find the drum machine anywhere. This record is therefore taking longer than expected.
|
|
|
| Writer's Block: Music for Thought |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|10:36 am] |
Funnily enough, I was thinking about this this morning, hence my answering two of these slightly banal prompts in the space of about a week. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
The short answer is that it varies. I became quite neurotic about music and distraction during work for my MA (ie: when 'work' became somewhat more worthy of the name) and, whilst I'd almost always have some sort of music on, it would usually be instrumental. Of course it's entirely coincidental that my exploration of Post-Rock and related music mushroomed during this period. To this day, Explosions in the Sky and Pelican (particularly the latter's Australasia) remind me of my small room in Trefforest, working away on research / theory / planning / writing. I even remember, with some amusement now, always turning off EITS is Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die / Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Live Forever when 'Have You Passed Through This Night' came up and introduced a loud monologue (taken from The Thin Red Line) into the otherwise non-distracting instrumental loveliness.
I loosened up somewhat towards the end of the course and worked on one of my second batch of essays whilst listening to most of Fu Manchu's back catalogue - the lyrics were so inane they didn't distract me and the riffs were so good they made me happy in spite of an essay dealing with Kant and Lacan. Then, when researching my MA thesis over that summer, I listened to more Boris than is probably healthy. The lyrics were indistinct, in Japanese and often infrequent (contradiction in terms?). Plus, drone comes into its own when you want to block out background noise but avoid being distracted by much actual music. And Boris are one of the few bands I've encountered who can make Drone interesting without resorting to stupid vocal performances, daft instruments and half an hour of the patented Sunn O))) dyson noise.
More recently, it's varied. For the current Phd chapter drafting I'm not having any background music.... though the hamster is keeping me entertained with his antics. Typing confuses the little fellow.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 21st, 2009|06:22 pm] |
Hooray. My Xbox360 has finally decided to exercise its constitutional right to inexplicably fubar itself and display a baffling combination of red lights, error messages and weird start up experiences, most of which seem to translate as 'Congratulations Sir! Your console is totally fucked.'
Best of all, because it's taken it's sweet time about it, my console is now out of warranty. Even the extended warranty microsoft put out when they realised they'd released a turd with a failure rate only a little short of a mechanical drive ipod. I've also owned a couple of mechanical drive ipods.
This means that, whilst my console is almost certainly exhibiting problems related to the shoddy design incorporated in the first couple of generations (it's a first generation version), I'll have to pay Microsoft 78 pounds to have it fixed.
Fuck that. I'm going to use it as a pond ornament.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 21st, 2009|03:37 pm] |
SimPete wasn't getting any younger.... but SimPete had a great idea: experience had proved that SimRob's girlfriends weren't getting any younger either and there was a very good chance that that underage babysitter might be an adult by now - after all, it had been several days since Rob had called and spectacularly failed to make it with her. Unfortunately, Mona whatserface 'didn't feel like coming over right now' when Pete called... at least Cockcheese M would always love him. Except that Pete had neglected to feed Cockcheese M for several days.... thankfully SimRob, unaware of Pete's intended treachery, went in and fed his housemate's goldfish for him. Then sat on a chair, reading a book about zombies, whilst Pete was asleep in his bed. It appears the new lounge furniture isn't good enough for SimRob.
Rob had also been reading some other books however. Including one on gardening, as result of which seeds magically appeared in his inventory. Rob duly planted them, in a strange arrow formation pointing at the street. There'd be no stopping his career as a lab assistant now.
Meanwhile, Mark and Nai have another child, 'Don,' (guess which audio book was on in the background this time) and have had to repurchase all the furniture they foolishly sold when Armadale grew too old for it. The rest of the housemates don't seem to mind the fact that SimMark and SimNai are spending most of their combined income on their offspring... one of these days we will have a second floor.
( Teaching Hamsters )
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 20th, 2009|04:20 pm] |
I've only seen two of the Saw films (which is probably enough) but this is nevertheless awesome.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 18th, 2009|05:36 pm] |
Mark Bennett, great deals with phones and gadgets with paypal.
Paypal, go fuck yourself. |
|
|
| Writer's Block: Conversion Rate |
[Jun. 18th, 2009|05:10 pm] |
Yes. Atheism. But it looks like too much work keeping up with the debates and all the bus painting...
Seriously though, I'd have to accept the points ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) charlycrash makes in his answer: formal religious structure doesn't inherently appeal to me beyond the opportunities for discussion and community that it can present. As such, 'converting' wouldn't really be valid for me as I don't feel subsumed within any limiting orthodoxy to begin with.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 18th, 2009|07:35 am] |
For some reason known only to itself, Livejournal has recently decided to log me out between visits... either that or Firefox has updated itself into mild incoherence.
This is almost, but not quite, as strange as the DVLA, who have returned to me my application for a replacement license with changed address due to the fact that 'The fee is £17.50.' This would make more sense had they not also returned my cheque for £17.50.
This in turn is only slightly less weird than my adventures last night. Our neighbour, with whom we're well acquainted and get along well - was at the wedding etc - was over the other night asking if we'd be up for helping with the village BBQ and arranging to meet at his at 8pm yesterday. I went along, found myself in the company of lots of village men and drank a bit of beer. I felt all involved and stuff. Even if I was easily the youngest there and only knew half the others and half the people they were talking about. As a result of this encounter I'm now responsible for providing burgers, cheese, buns, relish, sausages and sundry for 60-70 people with a budget of a couple of hundred pounds. The logic being that i work in catering and have contacts. Well, I do actually so fair enough. Hopefully I'll manage to coordinate it. I'm also responsible for organising any contributions from wives etc in the shape of salads and cakes. Any apparently sexist overtones here (with respect to which any of the pc brigade actually inclined to complain should really just get out more) are undermined somewhat hilariously by the thought of me marshalling an army of village wives with hardcore baking skillz. Simon Pegg will write the screenplay.
Weirder than all this though and, in fact the crowning weirdness, is that I've discovered a whole network of awesome village things the guys here are involved in. There's an infrequent village jam night set up by my neighbour and a few others (turns out my other neighbour plays alto sax!) that now no longer lacks a bass player and also a 'music appreciation' night set up in opposition to the book club and to which people are encouraged to bring a mix cd of around six songs they'd like to share and a bottle of wine.... I'm invited to that too. MWA HAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
*ahem* |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 14th, 2009|08:52 pm] |
SimRob is doomed. It appears that no amount of en suite shower facilities will save him from his own romantic ineptitude - particularly as the rest of the house routinely sneaks in and uses his shower when he's at work / asleep. What with young Armadale growing up (more on that shortly) and SimNai and SimMark seeming detirmined to behave like ships in the night (it appears that journalism and catering are polarised in terms of the game's vocational clock), it made sense to give one of our two batchelors a prod in the direction of possible pro-creation. If only to make sure I still have some sims to play with in a few weeks - in a world where maternity leave lasts four days, death can't be far behind. As wrong as that sounds.
So anyway, it was a case of choosing between Rob and Pete... well... Pete's been doing pretty well in his career and is generally very happy, whereas Rob is stuck at tier two (his lack of gardening skills means he'll never make it above lab assistant and my inability to find an object for him to garden means he'll never improve his gardening skills) and is also really rather miserable. We therefore decided to get Rob a love interest.... and Pete a goldfish. This meant finally buying Pete some bedroom furniture too so the cosmic balance was more or less maintained. Thus Pete's room now features a small painting of a lighthouse, an en suite with only a toilet and a chest of drawers with a fishbowl on top. We wanted to call the goldfish 'Cockcheese McFadden' (don't ask) but, unfortunately, the name wouldn't fit. Pete and 'Cockcheese M' are getting on very well though.
Meanwhile, Rob went through his phonebook, texting everyone he knows and quite a few he doesn't whose thumbnail portraits somehow found their way into his phone and who might breed with him anyway, you never really know. We found the most emo looking candidate and invited her over. She came, much to our surprise,as we couldn't work out how we'd met her. The two got talking and, to be honest, things were looking pretty good. The lady laughed at Rob's jokes (even the dirty one's offered by his 'flirty' trait) and we learned a little about her traits. Things were almost derailed when SimPete came marching out of SimRob's en suite and started chatting about burgers, but the conversation was soon back on track. ....except that no romantic options appeared. The friendship meter filled, all the conversation options were utilised and the plus signs bounced over the couple's heads... but no hearts... not even the option to hold hands. Most confusingly, there wasn't even the option to find out if 'Mia' was already in a relationship. In a fit of confusion we moused over her portrait in Rob's relationships panel and suddenly all became clear: not only was it obvious why Rob wasn't going to be getting any, but the hitherto overlooked question 'how the fuck do we know this sim?' was also provided with an unlooked for answer. Mia Whatserface, Friend, Career: High Shool Student, Occupation: Babysitter.
Well done SimRob.
But, like I say, Armadale has grown up and is now a child, with the ability to interact with objects, talk and go to shool.... bit like Rob's girlfriend. Turns out, however, that due to his 'difficult upbringing' Armadale has developed the 'Mean Spirited' trait? Excuse me, what? His dad taught him to walk, his mum read him books, he played with his toys and both his parents taught him to talk until SimRob finished the job..... hang on a second.... *mouseover Armadale's relationships* .... Best Friend: Rob. Yeah, difficult upbringing my arse!
|
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|