Ode to my dissertation

oh dissertation
such an inducement to procrastination
why art thou so long?
If only I could write a song
instead of 20,000 words of prose
then I would have time for repose
but alas to work I must go
for as of tomorrow
I am meeting the tutor of doom
who will be spreading more gloom
by telling me to do more work
from which I must find fewer reasons to shirk
why oh why oh why

Bizzare clothing names

I'm sure many people will remember Rachel's sister in Friends who bought a 'give me a job' sweater, 'apartment' pants and a 'making it on my own' top. Well today i got a clothes catalogue in the post with actual clothes called equally strange names. You can now buy:

A charismatic dress
Boyfriend jeans
A famously flattering skirt
An easy wearing anywhere Tee
Superstar jeans
Soft independent hoodie
Forever pants (trousers)
Boyfriend shirt (to go with jeans presumably)
Chillin' out pants

And don't think it's just girls clothes that have succumbed to weird names from the boys section:

Eternal pants
College pants
Players shirts
24 hour shirt
Original grandad shirt
New full on shirt (evidently previous catalogues stocked ones that you couldn't quite put on)

I wonder what happens if you wear the clothes in the wrong context? Perhaps they fail to do their job and you look like you are not wearing any eek! At least the wearer of the eternal pants would never have an issue!

A Traumatic Day!

Saturday 24th February:

Liz came - ok so this wasn't really a traumatic event but it could have been

Caught train to Llantwit Major - had to run to catch it, could have led to being trapped in doors - potentially traumatic

Used public toilets at Llantwit Major - not personnally traumatic but Liz was walked in on by another lady (Becci was on door guarding duty at the time)

Began our walk - Liz assures us she knows the root like the back of her hand - not traumatic but reassuring

Walked through field which was fairly muddy (or so we thought at the time) - slightly traumatic - more for beckrum as she was getting her new boots dirty

Arrived at a field with evil cows in, all of which were watching us very closely, with one blocking the gate - Potetially traumatic death by cow incident

Liz doesn't know the way - we walk up and down past the cows a number of times - increasingly traumatic as scare cows more

By this time Becci and Liz have adopted the very stylish trousers in socks look - trauma of being associated with them

Our path is blocked by a river so we have to re-trace our steps and climb over a very tall gate that is very slippery - extremely traumatic near death experience

Get caught in a heavy shower - Am pleased have brought umbrella with me

Arrive at very rocky beach and am abandoned by Liz and Becci who go to investigate a cave - am left to imagine what I would do if they both had accidents and broke their legs or something - trauma of debating whether I would need to call the coastguard or an ambulance

Walk along cliff top path - get you take the high road and I'll take the low road stuck in my head - trauma of being forced to 'listen to' bad song over and over again

Path becomes too muddy so we abandon it in favour of a path through a load of bramble bushes - trauma of getting stuck every other step and being covered in scratches

New path turns out to be just as muddy as the proper path and thererfore extremely slippery - trauma of potential accidents with every step

Walking near barbed wire fence - trauma of being stabbed by a barb when grabbing fence to prevent slipping

Path becomes even more dangerous and end up having the traumatic experience of landing on my posterior - although I apparently did this very gracefully and avoided putting my hands in the mud but unfortunately not my trousers

Trauma of post falling walking in even more slippery mud

Watched a surfer walk the longest route possible to the one part of the beach where there were no waves - trauma of thinking that there is a mad person in the sea who could drown or be attacked by his surf board as obviously doesn't really seem to know what he is doing

Made it back to Llantwit and had to face trauma of walking past the Chocolate Box shop as there was no time to stop before the train came

Had to travel on train without companions as they fell asleep - trauma of being responsible for making sure they are awake in time to get off - although was entertained by a man who got on the train sat down and produced a 6 rated belch

Got back to suffer the trauma of wathcing England lose the rugby

So all in all the 24th February is not my favourite day ever!

Why use Normal Words when you can Make Up Your Own and Sound More Intellectual?

So I have noticed a number of words made up by academics over the course of my degree which really do seem to be completely unnecessary as there are plenty of existing words that when used in combination mean exactly the same thing. So why do they bother to confuse everyone by making up new words? Some examples:

Distanciated - separated in time and spaced i.e. distanced from
Technicist - not really sure what this means I'm guessing technical
McDonaldisation - basically society is becoming more uniform and predictable like every McDonalds in every country
Dramaturgy - Living life like a drama
Actionalism - some sort of theory about actors
Panopticon - a type of prison with potentially constant surveillance
Iatrogenesis - doctor-generated illness

Academics are also guilty of using words to mean different things e.g.

Demoralisation - the decreasing influence of morals in society not the usual lack of morale

They also like to use big unusual words when simple ones would suffice e.g

Cornucopia - a horn of plenty used in the context of having a lot of consumer choice why not just say there is a lot?

I bet you have come accross similar things too (unless it is just the social sciences that are this weird). Feel free to comment with some examples.

Poem about Liverpool's epic Victory against AC Milan

An army amassed just like centuries before, in a city made famous by sieges of yore.

Where Constantinople and Byzantium once stood,
A new army now did descend like a flood.

An army of thousands in livery of red, Liverbirds on their chests and a dream in their heads.

With smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts,
of hope a new era was waiting to start.

Stood on the North Tribune I looked all around, a sea of red swamping three sides of the ground.

Flags, scarves and banners that covered the crowd, a show of red strength to make Chairman Mao proud.

I surveyed the scene in awe and in bliss, How could we fail on a stage such as this?

I reckoned without an AC Milan team, with the class to make nightmares out of our dreams.

And so it transpired in a half straight from hell, a Maldini sucker punch straight from the bell.

With two blows from Crespo five minutes apart, Milan drove a dagger through Liverpool's heart.

We staggered and reached the refuge of half time, our worst fears were realised, 3-0 behind.

Ashen-faced Reds with their heads in their hands, slumped in despair on the steps of the stand.

An anger rose in me, but not with the team, where was the 12th man? Was Chelsea a dream?

We had to show pride, try to lift them somehow, we'd come much too far to give up on them now.

Somebody somewhere had shared the same thought, my faith was restored in our famous support.

YNWA grew in strength, as did I, and I sang, as if it was for the last time.

Looking back now I can't honestly say, that as I sang, I thought we would find a way to come back, but I wanted the whole world to see,
We still had pride, we were still Liverpool FC.

That chorus will live on in legend and lore, Cruyff said he had heard nothing like it before.

Maradona said it made him convert to a Red, Luis said it spurred them to rise from the dead.

Then came the reverse of our first half ordeal, six minutes of mayhem that didn't seem real.Six glorious minutes that none will forget, when Stevie and Xabi and Vlad found the net.

Milan came again but at each turn were foiled, once more a siege played out on Istanbul soil.

As the seconds ticked down, the Redmen stood tall, though their muscles screamed 'stop' they ploughed on through it all.

Then came the moment God's will became known, The ball fell to Shevchenko with Dudek left prone. With the goal at his mercy, our Pole somehow saved, someone from above must have smiled on the brave.

It was then that it suddenly all became clear, Milan realised that this wasn't their year. Alongside the Reds stood an ally too great,
There was no resisting the power of fate.

So when the game entered its final test then, they bore the demeanour of half-beaten men.

Defeat after so much no player deserved, but while Milan's men wilted the Reds kept their nerve.

And when Andrei's nemesis foiled him once more, the night air was pierced by a deafening roar.

Destiny fulfilled all that was prophesised, and I hugged all around me with tears in my eyes.

The Redmen all met us, celebrations they led, Carra The Lionheart, Gerrard The Red. Sami The Mighty, the sturdy Hamann, Dudek and all, heroes to a man.

And Rafa, our Moses, by his guiding hand, he led us all back here to this Promised Land. When the road became hard no excuse did he use,
and when all seemed lost here his genius shone through.

Emotion flowed down from the stands like a shower, as we watched Stevie lift that old trophy of ours. You'll Never Walk Alone once again we did sing, as we all heralded the return of the Kings.

Now on the bus back to Taksim I went, my voice was in tatters, all energy spent. Utterly drained but smiling ear to ear, I thought back to the road that had led me to here.

As a boy I had watched all the legends parade, as they conquered all Europe and history was made. As the years passed, now no longer watching a screen, I thought I'd never see what my elders had seen.

I wondered if my eyes would yet see the glory, and whether in years to come I could tell stories. Of great Anfield nights and of crusades abroad, when the Mighty Reds put Europe's best to the sword.

2004 then turned into 05, and finally all of my hopes came to life,
It seemed fate was there with us right from the start, it happened as if it was written in the stars.

I watched from the Kop on that December night, the pivotal moment when dark turned to light. Four minutes from failure, then hope was restored, we all dared to dream, when Stevie G scored.

Echoes of the past rang as clear as a bell, the late Kop end goal, the same scoreline as well. My generation loved tales about way back when, but we now had our very own St Etienne.

I was there against Juve when ghosts of the past, 20 years in the waiting confronted at last. The Kop spelled out friendship in red and in white, and in silence we remembered the fallen that night.

The whistle it blew and the silence gave way, to a whirlwind of noise that blew Juve away. I saw a red tide almost swallow them whole,
And I saw Luis Garcia's 30 yard goal.

I saw Chelsea get their come-uppence at last, on a night at Anfield that might not be surpassed. The primeval force of The Kop in full cry, for 96 minutes the noise wouldn't die.

96 minutes for 96 souls, they surely were watching the drama unfold. For something divine intervened on our side, 'Cos I can't explain how Gudjohnsen shot wide.

The Kop danced long after the players had gone, the glory of years passed remembered in song. And when we were thrown out we danced on outside, around Shankly's statue long into the night.

And now I had witnessed a moment so rare, it's drama and splendour were beyond compare. A moment in sport we may not see again, a moment I'd waited so long to attain.

Istanbul was for one night, Heaven on Earth, so special you can't put a price on its worth. I give thanks I was one of the privileged few,
I was there and I saw all of our dreams come true.

A banner I'd seen and there saw it again, 'My Eyes Have Seen The Glory,' it proudly proclaimed. Four symbolic stars were emblazoned thereon, I could now say 'me too' when the 5th one was won.

I've seen the Kop's legacy upheld and enhanced, and seen us win when no one gave us a chance. I've seen us rise up and be crowned Europe's best, if it's the last match I see I'd still think myself blessed.

Don't know who wrote it, it certainly wasn't me!

As some of you may remeber from a previous blog post Beckrum was once swallowed by our sofa:


She must taste nice as she has since been swallowed by a ball as well:

Surprising as she is just skin and bones!

Is it a sign?

Wow it's been a long time, and to be honest this post is probably not worth the wait. I blame facebook - it has taken over as my procrastination tool of choice. Anyway on to the main point...I received a catalogue in the mail (sorry post must not use American words) today - not that big a deal you may think. But it was a catalogue for baby clothes and accessories...why did I receive this? I don't have a baby nor am I likely to have one in the foreseeable future. Shima was here with me and reckons it must be a sign eek! I would get a free Alphabet butterfly if I order something which does look like quite a cool baby toy. So if anyone has a baby they need some clothes for let me know and I'll see what I can do.