Cinnamon Bagels: Food of the Future

As is obvious, I haven't written anything here for awhile.

This mainly due to stress, hatred, nausea, maniacal laughing, hysterical sopping, infrequent tantrums and violent out bursts of undirected anger caused my dissertation. It's done now, but I'm still haunted by it; I managed to misprint the damn thing about 4 times so now I have four imperfect copies of my dissertation that I poured blood and sweat and hate-filled dedication into sitting on my desk staring at me smugly, knowing it's ruined my life. This must be what some corporate CEO's feel when they have a bad day and look down at their desks to see a picture of their family. Only I can burn my dissertation.

I've been drunk for the last two days. It was fun but I'm now enjoying sobriety and the ability to eat normal food it brings - hence the cinnamon bagels. Anyone who doesn't like them is never getting into Heaven, period. I can still be friends with them, but I'll always pity them slightly. If you haven't tried them, go do it now. And if you don't like them, don't pretend you do and eat on the vain hope you'll still get into Heaven; God knows if you don't like them already. And He will judge you as have I.

Ahem. Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about was real life. No, as a student for al my adult life I've never really been involved in this strange and weird thing, but from my graduated friends' experiences its horrible. So, I'm going to try to find the good bits in it;

1) Income. Like money, but its a frequent injection that you don't have to pay back. Yes, you need a job and they can be terrible but this is a list of good things.
2) The ability not to have to live with your parents (related to income). Again, this is also a cost but the benefits far out-weigh the costs.
3) You meet new people. Sure, maybe in a business manner but still. New people.
4) I won't be getting more money off the government. This could be seen as a con, but the loan repayment interest rate is atrocious and doesn't change. Seriously, check it out; it's extortion of the first order. The 'inflation' incremental increase bears no relevance to the actual rate of inflation and the interest rate that 'doesn't exist' actually does. Day light robbery.
5) That's about it.

But, in my opinion that's enough. People with jobs kinda forget what it's like not to have any money coming in at all. It makes me want to cry sometimes and I would, except that my tear ducts fell out when I was fifteen and I can no longer cry in the normal sense of the word. Instead I break things.

David Cameron (and Nick Clegg, I suppose, although it wasn't part of his manifesto) has promised to sort out the student loan issue - without mentioning what part of the student loan was an issue, so this could be interesting - and has given himself an extra year for his term of office so he can make this happen, as well as other things. Like removing Gordon Brown's term of service from the official history books forever. I hope he can do it - I actually voted him in. Yes, I personally voted 500,000 times for David Cameron. That's not true, but I did vote for him in the hope he could do 20% of what he promised. And so that Gordon Brown wouldn't be in office again.

I'd also like him to bring down housing prices so I can get my own house sooner. I guess I could always go on benefits but that just...urgh...hurts my soul to think about. At least I wouldn't have to get food stamps.

Cameron should also cure cancer, solve the AIDS issue, make me tea once a week within an hour of me asking and lower the cost of cinnamon bagels, based on his statement that he would "make Britain and the world a better place." We'll see how he does. In the mean time, I have to prepare to blitz my last exam ever (with luck). Wish me luck, or alternatively give me a job.

So. America!

Those of you who watch my blog - the very few - will have noticed that the postings have slowed down of late. Some might say they've stopped. Speculation on why this may be ranges from 'He got a life' to 'Maybe that girl he says he's seeing is real' to 'the Iceland ash cloud. obviously' to 'Aliens! He can't have a real girl!'.

The first of these is most accurate, as I've been jumping around America for the past two weeks or so causing what chaos I could. After a brief stop over in Buffalo it was off to Chicago for four days with Raven, and that was a lot of fun. Sadly I didn't see too much of Chicago, but I think I can cope. Then back to Buffalo for a week or so with m friends there; a couple of improv shows, some parties, generally having a lot of fun.

What have I gained out of this? Well, lots. But, aside from certain obvious benefits, I have learned how much I missed my friends I left here, which is odd since we all know any friendships here involving me have a time-limit, as I live in England - much to the chagrin of some. However, coming back was great and it was almost like I never left. Which is good, but kinda scary.

I've also learned that there is quite a high percentage of the population that doesn't use Facebook. Which is fine, but since I don't have cell numbers for anyone getting in touch is difficult; I had to stalk one person out of the student union and half way to their dorms. I felt creepy so it's anyone's guess what I looked like.

Gamegirl and Conscience will be glad to here everything went okay for myself and Raven and that we don't hate each other. Conscience won't want to know the details but I'm sure Gameboy - Gamegirl's boyfriend (yes, imaginatively named, I know) - will ask about it so she'll end up knowing. I'm looking forward to seeing them all again when I go home, but there is a significant part of me that wants to bring my American friends back for a bit.

It's too bad the Iceland ash cloud has cleared up, or looks to be cleared up, or I could feasibly delay my flight home for a while and stay out here longer, pleasing several parties. We'll have to see what happens, maybe God will take a hand in it. Although it really wouldn't serve a higher purpose than making me happy and possibly reducing the chances of my dissertation being written.

"Better Infamous Than Forgotten"

I've discovered I have to return to my university city a day or so early because of academic events I cannot miss - namely, an in-class exam - but today is being left free for a little bit more time with friends and family, in the spirit of Easter and the national holiday Easter Monday is. However, I have nothing to do for a while and the day drags on when you're doing nothing. So, to try and escape criminal levels of boredom, I googled myself.

I got a link to linkedin.com, a business networking website, where I was listed under 'pubs'; I believe this means public profiles, not public houses, otherwise the site is direly misinformed. However, the profile is missing which either means I should make one - not likely right now - or I should forget it and go about my life as I have done for the last twentysomething years.

The other link of interest I got - that wasn't for some kind of networking site - was a biography site and a short entry claiming some of my relative moved to America at some point. For interest, here it is:

[MyName] farmer, sec. 24; P. O., Vermont; was born here in 1833, son of James and Lydia (Mercer), natives of Ohio; his father came on foot to Illinois, and being overtaken by the deep snow (1830-31), he became discouraged and returned to Ohio in the spring, but in 1833 he settled permanently in this county; he died in 1868, and his wife died when John was but 10 years of age; the latter received a liberal education; in the last war he enlisted in Yates' Battalion of sharpshooters, and was in many a sharp encounter. He married Mahala B. Petty, daughter of John Petty, of Indiana, and their children are Minnie, Irving, and Jesse.

Riveting stuff right? After reading this, I decided I didn't want to become a paragraph on some little known website or a footnote in a census after I die. Quite how I'm going to achieve greatness is as yet unclear. I am working towards becoming a published author but that's not the easiest thing in the world by a long shot. One of my 'friends' suggested a one man genocide. We're not friends on Facebook, so obviously it's not an official position. He's more of an acquaintance. Especially now; it's not that I don't like him, but it's not something that you should really suggest loudly in a crowded pub. I left quickly.

So, I'm taking ideas at the moment. Chu, my youngest brother, has yet to give any constructive help and my other younger brother, Mandarin, is in China and so slightly less than easily contactable. Most people are encouraging me down the path I've chosen - that of the author, not the genocide artist - including Rebel, Gamegirl and Raven, the girl I've given myself to (that's horribly close to a girlfriend reference. I don't really know another way to describe her though, so I'll have to see how she likes it). Conscience, one of my closest friends who usually plays the role she's been named after for me, also supports me but is kind of having to deal with her own university fallout at the moment. She's been a graduate for nearly a year, and it sounds like she has a little longer left before she's properly using her degree.

But in my quest for greatness, I feel I should have a contingency plan. I'll be running a few ideas past the world via this blog, rather than by practice, mainly for your entertainment, Reader, so if you ever get that slightly less than bored you need to be to come here you may get some entertainment. In the meantime, it might be worth thinking of your own path to greatness so that you have your place in history. There might not be a fountain of youth, but you can be immortal and un-aging in the minds of millions if you try.







[The last quote is from The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassuss. The title quote is Napolean. You decide which has more merit in your opinion, but Napo's got my vote.]

Strange people.

We all know at least one; a person who will more often than not do things that are very out of the ordinary. Sometimes you get whole families of them, who do the same strange things (sometimes referred to as 'cults') or who do lots of different strange things (sometimes referred to as 'inbred'). So I know you, The Reader, will know the sort of person I am speaking of.

This post began while I was out with Rebel and Gamegirl - Gamegirl, like Rebel, is a housemate of mine currently. We were out for a meal at a rather fantastic all you can eat buffet and Gamegirl mentioned she couldn't access my new blog posts because I hadn't put the link up on facebook. I told there weren't many new posts, as the very few people who read this will be able to corroborate, but she insisted and so the link is now back in public domain. She also said I should write new posts to increase their number. Fancy that, effort equals productivity.

Any how, since it's coming up to deadline time again I need to procrastinate for no good reason and this blog does provide me with quite the opportunity. What could I write my new posts on though? My recent misadventures involving the M25? No, as a Greater London local I have dealt with the pain, anguish and hardship of the M25 for long enough that it doesn't rile me suitably to require a rant or blog post. My love life? While that may be interesting for some of you Readers, I've already said that I'm not going to go into that kind of thing here - "HAHA!" the Reader cries, "It's actually because you don't have one, isn't that right you sad little Chadrock?" Currently, that statement is closer to being false than true actually. I just don't want to publish it online. Could I write about the wonders of the all-you-can-eat Chinese Buffet I went to? Well, here goes:

It's a buffet. Of Chinese food. And you can have as much as you want for fourteen British Sterling/$20 equivalent. The food is good and service is pleasingly fast. Those are the wonders. Share, indulge and enjoy.

Not so interesting as a blogpost, right? So I was still kind of flailing around cognitively for an idea this morning when my course friend BluesBoy revealed he had to print an essay off after class and hand it in. Not amazing in itself, the video he showed me while it was printing was.

Have you ever heard of Live Action Role Playing (L.A.R.Ping), Reader? If not, go abuse youtube for a while and have a look around for it. You'll find something. If you're too lazy to navigate away from my page, then I shall provide a brief explanation: grown men and women go out into the woodland or some other secluded area away from regular society and dress up as fantasy characters from games such as World of Warcraft and re-enact battles from the history of that game or from the game itself. Like when you were eight years old and played Cowboys & Indians with your friends, only slightly more organized and there's a set of rules. No, I don't know them. No, I don't LARP. I do, however, find the idea at the same time comforting and hilarious. All shall be explained later.

First, I finally reach the point of my new post; Live Avatar Role Playing. Yes, like from the film. With the blue people/Na'vi. The people of Hometree, Wisconsin have set up their own fantastic (nb; of fantasy) reserve that they attempt to model on Pandora. This was the video on youtube that BluesBoy showed me. This takes LARPing to a whole new level; WoW has a huge player base, or 'population', and so I find it more understandable that people would want to LARP from it's history and literature. Avatar may have a big following and high success rate but it's not in the same league as WoW or most cyberpunk cults. Live Avatar Role Playing takes my feelings of comfort and hilarity to a whole new level, which I will explain now.

Comfort: If this...activity makes them happy, then fine. Great. I'm glad for them. If painting yourself blue and running around sparse woodland and speaking in invented languages, go for it. Just like the normal(?) LARPers, I shouldn't come down harshly on these people. They're not hurting me so why should I worry?

Hilarity: Really? I mean, really? Grown adults who are meant to be mature and sensible do this kind of thing for entertainment? Thinking about it, it's not quite as bad as grown men hiding in trees and yelling "Lghtning Bolt!" while throwing representative twigs, but it's close. "This is how I feel comfortable, why should I be ashamed? It's like it's my real skin." Yeah, right. Which is why you paint it on.

BluesBoy and his housemate Firehead have actually turned up during the writing of this blog. There was a brief discussion about the video during Guitar Hero, along the lines of, 'It can't be real, they're just actors. Their speeches were too good and there weren't any mistakes,' but while that could be true if these people are confident enough I don't think they'd stutter or have problems talking about it on camera.

Decide for yourself; youtube Live Avatar Role Playing and see the strangeness for yourself. Whatever you decide, I'm leaving it well enough alone. I have to go shopping for stuff to cause chaos with in my last class ever. Wish me luck.



(Note: Their archery is terrible and the joining ritual just doesn't translate well into role play. Do not try this at home.)

Gamer, LF date.

Violent and/or aggressive computer games have been demonized by the media and criticized for destroying the youth of today. They display scenes of graphic and unusual violence and encourage what is best described as 'medieval' behaviour - killing people at will to achieve something, not throwing piss in the streets and dying of the plague. Which is why women steer clear of them, pretty generally, and only a small minority of them dare venture into a world where verbal harassment can occur in the comfort of their own homes. And we, the male gamers of the world, understand this and accept it. But there's a secret that we all share, something that would probably terrify the female gender if they ever found out and believed it; it's all a big conspiracy.

Computer games on any format are no more disturbing or compelling than a violent movie or a piece of graphic literature. Hell, there are cartoons that children watch that are far more scary in their inferences and connotations than most media-criticized computer games. And men know this, but we need one thing that women have no hold over. Even sports, our previous refuge, is becoming more and more accepted by the fairer gender and they are increasingly getting involved in them, both professionally and socially. Men need time away from women where they don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or having an idle remark turned into a declaration or war; somewhere we can be the heartless bastards nature intended us to be without feeling bad. Pubs and bars are safe no longer, as ladette culture spreads and women increasingly find out that these palces aren't so bad.

So we created the Games Conspiracy. All those media reports, all those 'banned' games, most of the horror stories, they're nearly all a fiction. I won't deny some are true, but most of the propaganda against computer games comes from men and is written or originates from men. Women might take up the battle cry, but we are the source. We create the hatred of them, and since we know it's mostly rubbish and not true that's why the games industry, so often criticized and blamed for societies flaws, has not been shut down. Think about it people! If everything said about it was true, why in God's name would it still be there? And we do this, we go to all the effort of a global conspiracy just so women do not, under any circumstances, become part of the culture as anything more than a token presence. You know why?

We don't want girls on Xbox live! It's a safe haven from the need to talk to women, and somewhere you can rip the shit out of 12 year-olds and send them home crying without any consequence past a bad player review. We do not need women bringing their sensitivity and caring nature to what is essentially man's last refuge of disorganized, testosterone filled rampaging violence in the modern world. We need this chance to be everything women hate so when we're in 'decent' company we don't slip up and behave like 'barbarians'.

My not-completely in/sincere rant today is provided by gamecrush.com, a website that advertises itself with capitals (www.GameCrush.com) for no reason, as web-addresses are not case sensitive. I may be picking at scraps here, but this....idea upsets me. It is a website which essentially fulfills the role of a dating website using games as a gimicky medium in a slightly desperate and ill-thought through effort to attract gamers, stylized and stereotyped as socially inept and unable to talk to women in most situations. I could write a paper on the mistakes it makes, and it would look something like this:

The Obvious Problems with GameCrush.com
An essay by J.T. Chadrock

1)Gamers predominantly play computer games to have fun, not to meet women. Blindly obvious, but it must be pointed out. If a gamer wanted to meet women, they would go somewhere women classically frequent. Like, anywhere without computer games.
2)If Gamers are as socially inept or so panicked by talking to women as the stereotype leads us to believe, then having a webcam conversation with one they don't know over a game of chequers or Battleships (seriously, they advertise this as casual gaming over webcam) is not going to be any easier. Especially, and I stress this, because none of the PlayDates (yes, again I kid you not) are required to actually deliver anything. This moves on to point 3).
3)Players (yes, this is how GameCrush describes their clients) can rate the PlayDates based on their performance. The rating categories are hotness (supposedly obligatory but subjective and, if I'm honest, unnecessary), flirtiness (the novelist and writer in me seethes with distaste for that non-word) and gaming ability (something that could be much easier recorded by a simple record system of wins-losses. Like, say, most games use.) The categories help little and realistically a girl's gaming ability is not what appeals to me. If I wanted to date a serious gamer I'd find her on Xbox Live or WoW or whatever I preferred because the PlayDates are paid to play computer games and don't necessarily have that avid an interest.
4)It costs. Like any dating website, I'll admit. But only the Players are charged; PlayDates date for free. This, I feel, is a rather sexist and unfair method as if the PlayDates truly enjoy games for gaming's sake they are getting paid to do it while the male Players must pay for the same service. Better would be a dating website where Players are both male and female and can search for profiles of other Players who share an interest in the same games, and then they can arrange PlayDates. Monthly subscription fees are something most Gamers are familiar with anyway and it would be a whole lot fairer.
5)It costs about $8 a PlayDate, apparently as much a drink with in an American bar. The website managers claim that when you buy a girl a drink you are paying to talk to them so their website is no different. However, most girls take longer than 6-10 minutes (PlayDate length depending on the game played) to finish a drink, especially if talking to you and halfway enjoying it. Also, I don't think most places charge $8 for a drink. Maybe $4, so enough for one each, but then you get a drink out of it too, right? Yes, you get the game out of a PlayDate but you could do that for free. And, importantly, if things go well between you and a girl at a bar you could get more than conversation. Much more, in some cases. Not so with GameCrush.
6)PlayDates don't have to be single. "What?!" you cry, "A dating website that encourages cheating and adultery?!" No. GameCrush is not a dating website, as pointed out before. It is in fact much more akin to those websites not talked about in public that let you chat to a girl via webcam for thrills at an regular rate that is fairly reasonable when compared with GameCrush. PlayDates can even have their boyfriend present, and while this may gift them with bad reviews they still get paid. I don't think it's encouraged but it can still happen.


And so on and so forth. For the full paper, email me. I'd apologize for the length, but this is actually quite a sensitive issue to me. I AM a Gamer, and a geek. I'm proud of it. I still go out, have a social life (yes, I'm expecting some kind of remark hear from someone but if you don't know me then what can you really say?) and have friends. And yes, I talk to girls. I've done nearly everything possible with some of them too. I do not play games to meet women, and when I want to meet women I don't do it by playing games. GameCrush is a bad idea that could have worked if it had been thought through properly. While I don't doubt it will have a following - stereotypes are, after all, there for a reason - I don't think it'll have anywhere near the success the designers hope for.

My advice to Gamers wanting to meet GirlGamers is this; stick to games. You meet girls who like to go out when you go out, and you'll meet girls who like to game when you game. It may take longer, but it's the better way. Better than paying a large fraction of the XboxLive subscription fee to talk to a girl for ten minutes while playing games.

If all else fails, try WoW for gaming's sake; it has a huge population and girls play it quite frequently. Just don't run around as a half naked Draenei female trying to tempt them into emote-sex.

Life as we know it is not that bad.

I hate it when people tell me that their lives are terrible. Their lives are never that bad.

I was thinking about this the other day while on a very slow escalator outside my local Sainsbury's eating an M&S sandwich. This is an unusual event for me, since I only very rarely go to M&S, and the last time I did it was because I was in desperate need of a public toilet. Most of the food in M&S is far too expensive for me to afford on a budget, and when I feel like indulging - as I had done - I find most of their flavours involve fish and unusual mixtures of vegetables. This is off putting for me normally, but I'd quite happily found one that suited my tastes. Fie to Jeremy Clarkson.

Coming up the escalator in the opposite direction, just as slowly, was a young girlfriend and boyfriend. You could tell they were very much in 'love' by the way they were ignoring each other and arguing while holding hands. Or what is classed as 'love' by people of a certain age and social class in England nowadays. They definitely didn't have jobs, from the overly-loud details about their benefit claims and lack of employment. They had two kids, although they were no where to be seen so maybe this was a lie, or perhaps just proof that people without proper upbringing, education and gainful employment should be parents. They were complaining about how terrible their lives were.

No, I'll grant you, I would never trade places with them. EVER. I'm infinitely happier in my social station than there's. But their lives were not terrible. My (friends') tax-paid monies are going towards this example of dysfunctionality as per our flawed government system to keep everyone alive whether or not they're useful, decent or in fact entirely human any more. And they seemed quite happy in their designer-trash clothing and were probably going to buy a host of branded, over-priced items that are completely superfluous to their actual dietary needs. SO while they themselves are terrible examples of human beings, their lives are not terrible.

While returning my trolley (that's right, I ate my M&S sandwich is Sainsbury's while shopping there. I'm not proud, but I was hungry) I then had to use the tragically slow escalators again, which gave me another wonderful opportunity to bear witness to another person's 'terrible' life. She was probably 17ish, I don't know exactly because asking would be weird and borderline paedophilic. She was complaining about how her mother always did all her washing and helped her with her homework, and her teachers were always trying to encourage her to go to university and how she just felt so much pressure on her. Oh my God people! I wish my folks had helped with my homework. And encouragement? Wow, people. Pain.

So next time you think your life is terrible, think about it really. You life is probably pretty good, it's just - for one second - not quite as good as you would like. I have no job, dwindling funds, student debt and financially obsessive parents. But I have good friends and I'm getting work done AND having fun, importantly. If my life is not terrible, nor is yours. Unless you're a starving African child born with aids into a harsh and unforgiving world of crime and violence with little or no chance to escape but all the while you retain the knowledge that you will almost certainly die before you've completely lived. Then, I have to admit, you have a valid case for claiming a terrible life.

Still, it could be worse, right? Right...?

New Plot Proposal

So I had a really weird dream last night, kinda like one of those teen-romance-comedy movies, where I was at a university reunion (don't ask) and was telling a friend why I hadn't been back before; I had proposed to a girl at the end of our university lives with a large salmon and a note explaining why I loved her and how she was similar to the aforementioned fish. Suffice to say, that didn't even work well in dreamworld and after she (quite rightly) chastised me for doing it while saying if I'd used a ring she'd be much more inclined to say yes, I irrationally stormed off out of the university and we never saw each other again.

Then the friend told me that she was doing a speech before the reunion meal, and I could go see her then and win her back. Logically, this is an idiot move and wouldn't work. In dreamworld, this seemed like a great idea, so we set off to find her lecture. On the way we gathered up a number of our old school friends until we found where the room we were meant to be going was. At this point, we were late and had to run and it is here, I feel, that I should have figured out it was a dream; I was wearing slippers. Upon this discovery, I traded them with a passing student so I could run faster.

We got to the lecture room only slightly late, but as the girl I proposed to with a fish was also late another talk was going on about neuro-physics. I actually made the mistake of pushing a 'pull' door in my dream, so even there I suffer from uncontrollable bouts of idiocy, and then we all sat at the back. Where we proceeded to play beer pong and normal ping pong because none of us new about, nor wanted to be introduced to, neuro-physics.

Then I woke up. So I never got a chance to re-propose to the girl, minus fish. If I told a therapists that dream, I wonder what they would say?

Mainly, I was going to talk about how my lack of organizational ability means I haven't got a chance to blog and how I envy my house mate, from here on known as The Rebel, for his ability to motivate himself to start his final essay-project thing while my dissertation sits rather unhappily at the 0 words mark. It doesn't even have a greatly defined title; Empire Strikes Back: American Imperialism in Cuba. Fun in theory but since my reading pile is getting bigger as I find more sources but decide against using them I am not looking forward to the eventual late-night cram sessions actually writing my dissertation will entail. That's my own fault really, so I can't complain.

I'm pretty sure The Rebel will read this and be mildly entertained by it - if he's confused I'll tell him here that it's an ironic name, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. For now though, I have to go read about Guantanamo Bay. And not the interesting part, the legislature and legal documentation. Academic ecstasy? Probably not, especially as I've managed to retain my illness through the Lent period after giving up alcohol. I think I may have an actual problem. I'll hope to lose it in my reading somewhere.

Motiwhat?

So while my search for intelligence on Xbox Live continues - believe it or not, I'm only about 500 words into what is supposed to be a 3000 word essay based on the arguments and opinion of a mostly 12-year-old-American sub-culture - I have decided to write a short discourse on why people don't do things.

Some people may be frustrated that instead of writing the real essay I have due for Friday I'm writing yet another note - i.e. my course mates - but I feel that my arguments for the mystical powers of procrastination are furthered by the fact I'm doing this instead of that. I mean, writing an essay on procrastination with the goal of achieving something seems to be a bit of a lie. If you can get things done, what do you know about procrastination?

I've found that procrastination doesn't necessarily have to be exciting to distract you from work. I did washing up earlier, and for it's rip-roaring and adrenaline pumping action it did not in fact entertain me in the slightest - not even when I discovered another fork under the wash bowl in the sink, raising the total number of forks in my house from six to seven. If there was a clinical condition to describe the ability to makes forks disappear from existence, I think myself and all of my housemates would have near-terminal degrees of it.

Even now I'm avoiding the point. Procrastination is not the search for entertainment or excitement; it is just the search for shirking, disobedience or escaping responsibility. I would do lots of un-entertaining things to fill time so I didn't have to do work, and so would many of you reading this note - like you, Kevin!

[The likelihood of your name being Kevin is low, but in my eternal quest to make some unsuspecting blog-addict fall off his chair in shock I must continue my efforts.]

Many of you could be doing something much more worthwhile than reading this AT THIS VERY MOMENT but yet you read on - you've started now, right? So you should finish, even if it's just out of respect. I mean, it'd be rude to not finish it. Wouldn't it? And maybe you're hoping you'll find it mildly entertaining or even, if you're very lucky, amusing.

Well Santa's on his day off so I'm rewarding all the good little girls and boys for behaving well at the moment, and as stated in many of my entries I'm not the most altruistic, beneficent, generous or rewarding person God, in his wisdom, created. I am, in fact, much closer to the other end of the scale I would suspect. So if you're looking for something from this note, some small smidgen of enlightenment, entertainment or escapism, good luck I say. Admittedly my goal in life is to be a successful author and indulge all the escapists out there, so my attempted denial of your entertainment is either ironic, contradictory, self hating or a mixture of all of the above. Ah well, better add them to my list of anti-virtues....

I could have written a couple of thousand words of creative genius in the time it took to formulate and write this. I could have cleaned the house, done washing, cooked something, tidied my room or even just sat around and watched TV. But those things are pretty much the classical territory of women, and I wouldn't bring myself down to that level. I can already feel the oppressive and crushing weight of feminist fury pressing down upon me for that statement, but I feel it was worth it. One of the advantages of being single is that you rarely have to sleep on a sofa unless you want to and you cook all your own meals anyway. SO BRING ON YOUR FURY, OH YE WOMEN SCORNED!

What else can I say about procrastination? Well, it's given birth to a lot of mind-numbingly mundane but sometimes pretty damn enjoyable past times; sports, alcoholism, embroidery, art, computer games, fiction, movies, the list goes on. Yes, some people find embroidery enjoyable I'm sure. I personally couldn't embroider a table with wood if I tried but hey. And yes, embroider IS a word, a truth I was as shocked to discover as some of you may be.

I should probably do something actually productive, like write, soon. I'm in contact with a good friend quite often who is also one the creative, escapist types and she constantly depresses me with her motivation and ability to get on and get her writing done no matter her mood. I do get jealous sometimes but hey, what can you do?

Yes, the correct answer is stop being lazy, stop procrastinating and just bloody well stop being worthless. I wonder if the removal of such traits from my character would have a lethal effect. Let's find out.

Step 1 in Making a Good Essay: Defining the topic.

Believe it or not, the first thing I had to do was define the meaning of both 'Telegraphs' and 'Dreadnoughts' to most of the Modern Warfare 2 XboxLife community. Telegraphs were related to boxing and war, while dreadnoughts were defined, variously, as boats, ships, planes, missiles, tanks, battle-suits, aliens and a gun.

Firstly, in reference to the 19th Century, telegraphs should not be immediately applicable to boxing. However, amongst the debate I did recover these XBLfacts:

1)Telegraphs use paper.
2)Telegraphs also use electricity (how, as yet to be decided).
3)Telegraphs are used in boxing and they let your opponent know when you are about to attack them if you pull your punch back too far.
4)People with dead relatives receive them during war.
5)Telegraphs are named after their inventor, Sir Arthur Telegraph, who was American.
6)Culturally, people liked them so they weren't scraped.
7)In the modern world, people still like them enough so we keep them.

Genius. Remember, I am not applying any of my learned knowledge on the subject at all to either topic and will a majority consensus of opinion on information given online as 'fact'. Any truly unique comments will be attributed. If anyone wants the 'identity' of the providers of any facts, I will do my best to keep a record so you can be informed.

Moving onto Dreadnoughts:

1)They were really big ships.
2)They were usually warships. The Titanic is an example of a 'civilian dreadnought'.
3)The name is taken from a creature of Greek or Roman myth, the Dreadnought, which was a lion-dragon mixture and entirely amde from metal.
4)They are still used in modern warfare, mainly to take down Aircraft carriers.
5)Submarines cannot sink modern dreadnoughts.
6)In the future, they will be used either as a super-heavy tank or a battle-suit style body armour to battle aliens.
7)Culturally, people had to like them as if they didn't they had to face the dreadnought itself, hence the saying: "Facing the dreadnought".

Yes, this essay is looking very factually correct. I hadn't heard the saying "Facing the dreadnought" until yesterday, but apparently it's a common thing said in certain areas of England. When I asked which areas of England, the player/expert in question left the game. It was also ascertained that despite the fact they were still used to take down Aircraft carriers, they are only half the size.

There was also a debate about the exact weapons inventory a dreadnought had/has. It was accepted that it differed from country to country, but it seems normal for them to be seen fitted with 200mm cannons (AC130 gunships and heavy tanks only use a 105mm for the most part), ground-to-air missiles, ground-to-ground missiles and air-to-ground missiles (presumably for when they are required to take out far-inland targets and take off...). It is also agreed that Japanese ones use lasers and partial cloaking.

Yes, Xbox Live has been a wealth of information. Today and tomorrow, I will continue my research via Modern Warfare 2 and expand my search into the realms of Left4Dead2.

Out-sourcing.

As a student, I have to write and research essays. This is not overly strenuous, especially when you know the territory. But for my current essay I have no pre-course knowledge of the topic. I have read up on it etc etc and am quite ready to write it.

However, an interesting (if un-productive) idea was presented to me the other day. While pretending to be a member of the Spetznaz Special Forces on Call of Duty 4 Modern Warfare 2 via Xbox Live earlier today, I mentioned my essay to my brother, also a faux-member of Russia's elite and infamous special forces. Then someone else in the game decided they could educate me on the topic.

There is very little factual information, in my opinion, that Xbox gamers can gift me with on the topic of how Telegraphs and Dreadnoughts were viewed from a cultural perspective.

But, in the spirit of fair play, I have decided to write two essays; one will be a serious attempt to enhance my university grades, and the other will be written purely based on what I am told by gamers on Xbox Live. Simply because I have that much time on my hands, as all the jobs in my university city go to the young, attractive women. That only be a debatable two-out-of-three description of myself I feel the job market is slightly sexist. Rar, arch-feminism.

I will be presenting my findings/research/nonsense-gatherings via this blog, along with the usual rants and internal monologue that appears here, for the entertainment of whomsoever feels the desire to explore my tiny corner of the interweb. I pray to God I do not get the two papers confused on the day I have to hand one in.