<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412</id><updated>2011-07-29T09:55:32.187Z</updated><category term='the reading circle'/><category term='photography'/><title type='text'>Suburban Mediocrity</title><subtitle type='html'>An exercise in dispelling the myth that all in suburbia is banal and pointless only to find that, by and large, it actually is and that, more importantly, it is beautiful in its ordinariness.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-6943551330185189994</id><published>2009-04-03T08:30:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-04-03T08:42:16.829Z</updated><title type='text'>#125 on Cerrie Burnell and Handrew</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00137/Cerrie-Burnell_137991t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 204px;" src="http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00137/Cerrie-Burnell_137991t.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may be aware of the story about Cerrie Burnell, the disabled Cbeebies presenter who became the subject of complaints from parents who believed their children would be disturbed at the sight of her disability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if the same parents have complained about Handrew the presenter with just 1 arm and no body?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-6943551330185189994?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/news/disabled-presenter-8216scares-children8217-1630325.html' title='#125 on Cerrie Burnell and Handrew'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/6943551330185189994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=6943551330185189994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6943551330185189994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6943551330185189994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2009/04/125-on-cerrie-burnell-and-handrew.html' title='#125 on Cerrie Burnell and Handrew'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-7797923038236283338</id><published>2009-02-21T22:22:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-22T14:19:28.117Z</updated><title type='text'>#124 on feeling like george w bush</title><content type='html'>I don't recall the details precisely but in a nutshell big george stood on the deck of an aircraft carrier soon after the invasion of Iraq and proudly announced the war was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard he regretted it in a leaving the presidency interview.  the comment not the war but that's another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway assuming for a moment that it was his idea to say it and that he really meant it I kinda know how he feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me well will know something of my own personal war I've been fighting over the past few months - not in the middle east, no closer to home in my own head.  And I'm feeling that I might just have won...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but a nagging doubt keeps me wondering if I, like George, am being a little premature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably, but then again, by telling all you lovely hob blogglings I might have fought and won one more battle in my own personal war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those of you who have held me up these past few months - family, old job, new job, church, the greenbelt set et al - I could not have done it without you.  But most of all my heart goes out A.  nuff sed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-7797923038236283338?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/7797923038236283338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=7797923038236283338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7797923038236283338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7797923038236283338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2009/02/124-on-feeling-like-george-w-bush.html' title='#124 on feeling like george w bush'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-1271196601606329901</id><published>2008-08-26T21:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-21T22:22:35.313Z</updated><title type='text'>#123 on post greenbelt blues</title><content type='html'>i don't have the post-greenbelt blues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i don't think i'm going to get them either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;greenbelt was very good for me this year.&amp;nbsp; i didn't hear life changing speakers.&amp;nbsp; i didn't hear life changing bands.&amp;nbsp; i didn't see life changing art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i did see some dear friends.&amp;nbsp; i did hear some new music.&amp;nbsp; and i did start to think about life in a new way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's what greenbelt has done to me or for me depending on your perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i haven't placed myself on to a self imposed pedastool to be knocked off at a later date to be arranged with fate and destiny.&amp;nbsp; instead i've got a clearer sense of who i am (and who i'm not) and where i fit (and where i don't) than i have in an awful long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(i'm crying now.)&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blogged with the &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser"&gt;Flock Browser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-1271196601606329901?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/1271196601606329901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=1271196601606329901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/1271196601606329901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/1271196601606329901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/08/on-post-greenbelt-blues.html' title='#123 on post greenbelt blues'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-7047356148420318291</id><published>2008-08-17T22:00:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-08-17T22:00:27.178Z</updated><title type='text'>#122 on new verbs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/08/11/article-0-023CABFF00000578-82_468x302.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/olympics/article-1043557/Shoe-addict-Rebecca-Adlington-trains-eyes-pair-Jimmy-Choos-scooping-historic-swimming-gold.html&amp;amp;h=302&amp;amp;w=468&amp;amp;sz=52&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=10&amp;amp;sig2=z1OECSpiynwGIigB-zMKrA&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;tbnid=iZcIk8VJQcwEkM:&amp;amp;tbnh=83&amp;amp;tbnw=128&amp;amp;ei=Sp2oSLC8O4zwwwGSpeXwDQ&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Drebecca%2Badlington%26imgsz%3Dsmall%257Cmedium%257Clarge%257Cxlarge%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox%26rls%3DFlockInc.:en-US:unofficial%26sa%3DN"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid ;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:iZcIk8VJQcwEkM:http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/08/11/article-0-023CABFF00000578-82_468x302.jpg" height="83" width="128" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not an old reactionary when it comes to language.&amp;nbsp; I know it is an organic thing with new words and meanings and connotations coming on all the time but, just like misplaced or missing apostrophes, I do get bugged when new verbs turn up without warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, who decided that tourists would 'do' places when they travelled abroad?&amp;nbsp; Personally I cannot bear it when people tell me the 'did' the Sistene Chapel after a summer holiday in Rome.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the BBC have got in on the act.&amp;nbsp; Since when did 'medal' become a verb?&amp;nbsp; Rebecca Adlington has medalled twice and so have 4 coxless men (sorry a pun not to be missed) amongst others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just worries me that we are simply being lazy with language.&amp;nbsp; Yes I know the point of language is to communicate meaning as quickly and efficiently as possible but are heading towards the newspeak of 1984?&lt;div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blogged with the &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser"&gt;Flock Browser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-7047356148420318291?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/7047356148420318291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=7047356148420318291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7047356148420318291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7047356148420318291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/08/122-on-new-verbs.html' title='#122 on new verbs'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-5652834584318529884</id><published>2008-08-17T21:40:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-08-17T21:40:23.751Z</updated><title type='text'>#121 on lost and found</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://musicbrainz.org/misc/redirects/amazon-album-info.html?a1f297ec-5854-4283-ae07-89e85f0b0cc2&amp;amp;store=amazon.com&amp;amp;asin=B000000I1K"&gt;&lt;img class="asin" src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/B000000I1K.01.MZZZZZZZ.jpg" alt="Show release at amazon" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may have noticed a small level of activity on the web 2.0 front as I slowly attempt to rebuild my social life after a year of, well there's no easy way to describe it really, so let us say, shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't want to talk about that now.&amp;nbsp; What I wanted to say is that part of my getting life back in order is that I've been sorting through our CD collection and come across this excellent disk - The Essential Fripp &amp;amp; Eno.&amp;nbsp; It's a great listen and I really like it but I must confess that I don't believe it actually belongs to me.&amp;nbsp; So if you lent it to me and have been cursing me behind my back for ages because I haven't returned it please let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then i shall continue to listen to it and enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blogged with the &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser"&gt;Flock Browser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-5652834584318529884?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/5652834584318529884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=5652834584318529884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5652834584318529884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5652834584318529884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/08/121-on-lost-and-found.html' title='#121 on lost and found'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-27158627374052645</id><published>2008-08-15T22:18:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-08-16T21:04:03.012Z</updated><title type='text'>#120 on Leoš Janáček</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/75/Leos_Janacek_relief.jpg/100px-Leos_Janacek_relief.jpg" style="margin: 10px 10px 0pt 0pt; float: left;" title="" alt="" /&gt;I first came across Janacek when I saw The Royal Opera House production of Cunning Little Vixen years ago and so I have been quietly looking forward to my birthday treat for some time.&amp;nbsp; For tonight I went with Andrea to the Janacek Prom down at Albert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time too short and words too few to describe the experience suffice it to say that it was an evening of immense pleasure and intrigue.&amp;nbsp; His music has so many facets that I don't think I shall ever tire of it.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blogged with the &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser"&gt;Flock Browser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-27158627374052645?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/27158627374052645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=27158627374052645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/27158627374052645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/27158627374052645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/08/120-on-leo-janek.html' title='#120 on Leoš Janáček'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-608247760023249634</id><published>2008-04-19T21:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-04-19T22:23:52.164Z</updated><title type='text'>#119 on men's mags</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.shortlist.com/img/point.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.shortlist.com/img/point.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current mood - tired (what else)&lt;br /&gt;current music - from your favourite sky by i am kloot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the other day when travelling by tube i picked up one of the millions of free papers discarded across the carriage.  but instead of london lite or metro or whatever i found myself clutching shortlist - a free magazine for men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've never been taken by the likes of nuts and loaded.  i'd be embarrassed to read them in public so i'd never bothered.  having said that i do enjoy gadgets and am trying to staying in touch culture so i suppose i shouldn't have been surprised to find shortlist strangely engaging in a disengaged-pass-the-time-on-the-tube sort of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the main thing to report is the lack of t and a.  if it had been packed with more tits than a spearmint rhino club i would have ditched it straight away - firstly because it would have been embarrassing (surely porn, however soft, should be viewed as a solo sport) and secondly linking to this is that i know what a lady's upper portions look like and have access to the real thing if you see what i mean.  i thought these mags were packed with bikinis or not.  but in fact there was probably more eye candy for gay men than straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there were lots of lists - hence the name.  top 10 this and that.  occasionally funny, occasionally thought provoking, occasionally badly researched but often interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was some journalism - articles worth reading, reviews of gadgets worth considering and news of current stuff in the arts.  all pretty lightweight but all perfectly balanced for reading on the tube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so all in all a good read on the tube.  i will plan future tube excursions for thursdays or visit the website for top 10 things to read on the tube etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-608247760023249634?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.shortlist.com/' title='#119 on men&apos;s mags'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/608247760023249634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=608247760023249634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/608247760023249634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/608247760023249634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/04/119-on-mens-mags.html' title='#119 on men&apos;s mags'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-3933915817363632677</id><published>2008-04-12T21:14:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-04-12T22:08:31.289Z</updated><title type='text'>#118 on caleb's flickr set</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/SAExjkXRv4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/ynlmH78sTGs/s1600-h/2008-04-01+caleb+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/SAExjkXRv4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/ynlmH78sTGs/s200/2008-04-01+caleb+003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188482732834013058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current music - star mile by joshua radin&lt;br /&gt;current mood - (on the way to being) drunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can find all the caleb pics &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/sets/72157604448114965/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; my dear hob blogglings&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-3933915817363632677?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/sets/72157604448114965/' title='#118 on caleb&apos;s flickr set'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/3933915817363632677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=3933915817363632677' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/3933915817363632677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/3933915817363632677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/04/118-on-calebs-flickr-set.html' title='#118 on caleb&apos;s flickr set'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/SAExjkXRv4I/AAAAAAAAAD0/ynlmH78sTGs/s72-c/2008-04-01+caleb+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-4899126560242560092</id><published>2008-04-10T21:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-04-10T21:29:50.649Z</updated><title type='text'>#117 on confusion</title><content type='html'>current mood - tired (still)&lt;br /&gt;current music - real world by matchbox twenty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm confused about my phone contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my current deal is with talktalk.  they've got me for a 18 month contract but i'm relatively pleased with the terms - calls and surf time and who cares.  that's not the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the problem is with bt.  they regularly write to me and ask me politely to go back to them.  eventually, with the aim of either negotiating a better deal and/or stopping the junk mail i rang them and asked them to buy me out of my talktalk contract.  which they wouldn't.  nor would they agree to stop sending junk mail.  until i got cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then the phone started playing up.  cutting off in the midst of conversations.  so did the internet.  so i rang talktalk and reported it and after being patronised about have i tried this and being threatened with a £150 bill if it's my fault, i got a fault report code and a promise of an engineer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that's not the reason why i'm confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today the engineer arrived.  a bt engineer.  who fixed the problem.  perhaps i should have asked why a bt engineer should be fixing a phone line i pay talktalk but, on reflection, i'm glad i didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the answer would have been more confusing than the ignorance.  i've only got so much ram, you know what i mean.  or as rob thomas was just singing, "I wish the real world, would just stop hassling me".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-4899126560242560092?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/4899126560242560092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=4899126560242560092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4899126560242560092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4899126560242560092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/04/117-on-confusion.html' title='#117 on confusion'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-515707238409717315</id><published>2008-04-09T22:02:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-04-09T22:31:57.815Z</updated><title type='text'>#116 on not being a geek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rmorg.org/random/ubuntuLogo/UbuntuLogoWS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://rmorg.org/random/ubuntuLogo/UbuntuLogoWS.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current mood - tired (it's a permanent state at present)&lt;br /&gt;current music - my old man by ian dury and the blockheads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't have a beard.  i don't have a degree in computer science.  i know what it is to hold a woman.  i own no cardigans.  i have no imaginary friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i do run linux on my computer and am proud of it.  not just because it's better than windoze.  not just because it's free.  not just because it simply works in the way i want it to work (and let's face who of us needs to stray far beyond the word processing, web browsing, picture processing jukebox that we want our computers to be)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as for apple...  i tell you in years to come our grand children won't say to us 'grandpa, how come that microsoft were able to make us think that a computer would only work if we used their software and that it was so expensive and that it was basically crap although it tried its best to look good.'  instead they'll say, 'grandpa, how did apple ever manage to convince you that they were the ethical alternative to microsoft.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong, apple make fine products but by heck you have to pay for it.  and if you don't like a program, itunes for example, well tough shit basically.  the code is closed - as closed as the microsoft code.  they make you do it their way or no way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;think open source.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take a look at linux.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you'll never look back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;find out what ubuntu means my dear hob bloglings and it'll all make sense.  trust me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-515707238409717315?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/515707238409717315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=515707238409717315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/515707238409717315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/515707238409717315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/04/116-on-not-being-geek.html' title='#116 on not being a geek'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8547488483664045967</id><published>2008-04-08T21:22:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-04-08T22:08:57.497Z</updated><title type='text'>#115 on new arrivals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/R_vkDKAYr7I/AAAAAAAAADo/lLjPm0ynkTI/s1600-h/dsc_0012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/R_vkDKAYr7I/AAAAAAAAADo/lLjPm0ynkTI/s200/dsc_0012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186990138723970994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current mood - tired&lt;br /&gt;current music - precious by annie lennox&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introducing the latest addition to the Goddard Family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caleb Reuben Joel Goddard born Monday 31 March 2008 at 2:24am weighing in at 6lb 11oz.  Mother and baby both beautiful and well.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Watch this space for flickr link for more photos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8547488483664045967?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8547488483664045967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8547488483664045967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8547488483664045967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8547488483664045967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2008/04/115-on-new-arrivals.html' title='#115 on new arrivals'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/R_vkDKAYr7I/AAAAAAAAADo/lLjPm0ynkTI/s72-c/dsc_0012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-7086642788577860976</id><published>2007-10-29T22:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-29T22:33:38.732Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><title type='text'>#114 on white balance</title><content type='html'>current mood - tired&lt;br /&gt;current music - 'out of the blue' by electric light orchestra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just got home from night school where i've been learning how to be a photographer.  as opposed to learning how to use a digital camera.  a subtle differentiation perhaps but i now have an appreciation for all the variables that affect the pictures that a camera takes; how to combine those variables and how to control those variables for the effect that i want to achieve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight was white balance.  in the workshop we fooled the camera into thinking that the light in the room was everything from direct sunlight to fluorescent lights (which ironically enough was exactly what the light in the room was).  and the difference in colours recorded was stunning.  so now i know why indoor images without a flash are so often yellow and orange tinted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all it leads me to take better photos each time i whip the old D1x out of my bag, so to speak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-7086642788577860976?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/7086642788577860976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=7086642788577860976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7086642788577860976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7086642788577860976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/10/114-on-white-balance.html' title='#114 on white balance'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8172474150903967854</id><published>2007-10-28T22:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-28T23:12:15.585Z</updated><title type='text'>#113 on blogging and facebooking and flickring</title><content type='html'>current mood - sage or delusional&lt;br /&gt;current music - wish you were here by pink floyd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are blogging and facebooking and flickring acts of procrastination or important acts of social networking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could have achieved so much more this week if i hadn't made a conscious decision to get my 'on line' life in order.  but it was gained at the expense of my 'off line' life which is slowly sinking under all those jobs that there never seems time to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well it seems to me that if one keeps one's 'on line' life ticking over then the feel good factor that the experience generates stimulates one to get their 'off line' life sorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that is either wisdom or self deception to the nth degree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8172474150903967854?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8172474150903967854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8172474150903967854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8172474150903967854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8172474150903967854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/10/113-on-blogging-and-facebooking-and.html' title='#113 on blogging and facebooking and flickring'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-9089384243763962995</id><published>2007-10-26T13:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-26T15:01:50.168Z</updated><title type='text'>#112 on an hour at the british museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RyH_jyzauLI/AAAAAAAAADg/M_jjsAEyyF8/s1600-h/2007-10-25+british+museum+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RyH_jyzauLI/AAAAAAAAADg/M_jjsAEyyF8/s200/2007-10-25+british+museum+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125658841322272946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;current music - john butler trio - sunrise over sea&lt;br /&gt;current mood - chuffed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said that I wanted to use my camera off of the programmed automatic 'run-home-to-mummy' mode, i decided to wander down to the british museum to take a few pot shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the great hall is a sight to behold - the classic pillars contrasting with a geometric sky.  it was one thing to be there.  it was something even more special to have an hour to indulge oneself in just looking and shooting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm pleased with my results.  no seriously i am.  they come out pretty well - the only post shooting touching up i've done is to make the black and white seem a bit colder - the ambient lighting was really rather yellow, and to crop the images into trendy squares.  no, the main reason i'm so chuffed is that i rejected only about 2 thirds of the shots.  my normal ratio of keep to chuck is about 1 in ten so to get my ratio down to 1 in 3 is quite a step up as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway the flicker link is &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/sets/72157602720066429/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; so please take a look and tell me what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-9089384243763962995?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/sets/72157602720066429/' title='#112 on an hour at the british museum'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/9089384243763962995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=9089384243763962995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/9089384243763962995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/9089384243763962995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/10/112-on-hour-at-british-museum.html' title='#112 on an hour at the british museum'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RyH_jyzauLI/AAAAAAAAADg/M_jjsAEyyF8/s72-c/2007-10-25+british+museum+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-2407206911345437160</id><published>2007-08-01T20:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-01T21:02:52.724Z</updated><title type='text'>#111 on my hobby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RrDx_l9IJXI/AAAAAAAAAB0/kb8YkSWIVTQ/s1600-h/test3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RrDx_l9IJXI/AAAAAAAAAB0/kb8YkSWIVTQ/s200/test3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093837253378581874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current music - live in buffulo (2004) by goo goo dolls&lt;br /&gt;current mood - chipper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my hobby of photography continues to go from strength to strength.  having moved on from holding the camera the right way round to taking off the lens cap, i can now truthfully and proudly claim that i have read the manual, all 223 pages of it.  obviously i have absolutely no bleedin' idea what any of it means but i'm working on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously though, i have just begun to take the camera off of the fully automatic mode - this is the run home to mummy mode, it sets up everything for you - i just need to point and shoot.  now that's served me well so far.  i was very pleased with my australia photos given that i'd only just got the camera but now the time has come to experiment a bit.  so today i sped up the film and the exposure and then got n to leap off his trampoline and risk life and limb; a sacrifice worth making for his father's hobby, i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i used gimp (no photoshop for this linux using suburban mediocrite) to isolate the image from the background and ... hey presto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've decided i've got enough half photos to slam a favourites collection on to flickr.  as soon as i do i'll let you all know my dear hob-blogglings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-2407206911345437160?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/2407206911345437160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=2407206911345437160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2407206911345437160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2407206911345437160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/08/111-on-my-hobby.html' title='#111 on my hobby'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RrDx_l9IJXI/AAAAAAAAAB0/kb8YkSWIVTQ/s72-c/test3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-7862319068903205374</id><published>2007-08-01T20:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-01T20:32:06.839Z</updated><title type='text'>#110 on rites of passage</title><content type='html'>current music - live in buffulo (2004) by goo goo dolls&lt;br /&gt;current mood - satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we speak of rites of passage for our children.  and rightly so.  n passed an important threshold in his short life today when my hand released his bike saddle he pedalled from me before coming to a controlled, if a little undignified, stop.  i remember my brother (and his pal) teaching me to ride a bike and how grown up and in control of my destiny i suddenly felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are rights of passage for parents too.  giving birth (a's bit), cutting the cord (my bit) and so on.  they range from the formal to the religious but i also believe that they are also informal.  you'll never know just how proud i felt as n wobbled off across the grass.  it was a perfect metaphor for my job of preparing him for his send off into the big wide world out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way to go n.  i love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-7862319068903205374?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/7862319068903205374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=7862319068903205374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7862319068903205374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/7862319068903205374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/08/110-on-rites-of-passage.html' title='#110 on rites of passage'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8063786019354138075</id><published>2007-07-30T21:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-30T21:32:43.096Z</updated><title type='text'>#109 on do do da dun run, do do dun run</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.clagnut.com/images/dunwich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 126px;" src="http://www.clagnut.com/images/dunwich.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;current music: surrender by chemical brothers&lt;br /&gt;current mood: chafed and chuffed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not to find an image that best captures the dunwich dynamo but this one serves quite well when you realise that what you see is hobby cyclists like me asleep on the beach at dunwich in suffolk at 7am having just cycled 120 miles through the night.  for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that's what i did this weekend.  the boys were neatly packed off to nanny w, a packed herself off to scotland for a wedding and i packed myself off to hackney for an 8:30 start to the 2007 dunwich dynamo, or dun run as we cycling enthusiasts like to call it (feel fee to interchange 'geek' for 'enthusiast' if you wish.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunwich_dynamo"&gt;dun run&lt;/a&gt; takes place each year on the saturday night/sunday morning in july closest to the full moon.  i reckon there was about 500 of us that pitched up in a park in hackney to the bemusement of the locals and the happiness of the local publican before setting off through epping and loughton and into the suffolk country side.  i'll not bore you with descriptions - basically because it was so bloody dark you couldn't see a thing.  it pissed down pretty much all the way and, not putting too fine a point on it, i seriously thought i had hypothermia after getting back on my bike in the rain in my wet clothes after a rest stop in some village hall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the coldness passed, the sun came up at 5 and the rain stopped just as i arrived in dunwich.  my brother in law was there just after to meet me and bring me home (thanks again t) and i was home by 10 in a kind of a dream like haze - partly brought on by the lack of sleep and partly brought on by the euphoria of having cycled for further than i have ever cycled before in one hit and through the night to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120 miles, 10 1/2 hours.  well dun me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8063786019354138075?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8063786019354138075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8063786019354138075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8063786019354138075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8063786019354138075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/07/109-on-do-do-da-dun-run-do-do-dun-run.html' title='#109 on do do da dun run, do do dun run'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8438205268778894676</id><published>2007-07-26T20:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-30T21:10:15.372Z</updated><title type='text'>#108 on the end of the year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lifeway.com/clipart/downloads/new_year_eve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 157px;" src="http://www.lifeway.com/clipart/downloads/new_year_eve.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;current music - surrender by chemical brothers&lt;br /&gt;current mood - enthusiastic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm coming up to the end of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, do not adjust your watches or calendars.  i've decided that each year should end on august 31 and the new one commence on september 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well for a start my work life dictates it.  as you'll probably already be aware my dear hob-blogglings, i work in a school, so shifting to an academic year makes sense.  you stagger to the end of one year in mid july, catch up on all those jobs at home you've been putting off for months and then start a new year fresh in september.  yeah i know five and a half weeks holiday is a bummer but being a deputy head is a mucky old job and someone's got to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next of all, my birthday falls in august (hint).  so it kinda works to think of a new year starting when it acxtually does, if you see what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after that is greenbelt.  it neatly falls at the end of my year and serves as a great party to round off all that hard work putting together the comedy and light entertainments strand of the programme.  actually it's getting easier with each year - this year's greenbelt email box has only 700 odd emails in it.  last year it easily surpassed 800 and the year before it had more than 900.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've managed to avoid tax and mot on the car (accidently) to get them due in august and another of my myriad jobs to do each summer is to overhaul the finances - joint account and all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and lastly, i think the december 31st new year's eve is crap.  in a scene out of grumpy old men (and women) we stayed in last year, our friends pleaded poorly kids and being knacklered (same as us) and pulled out and instead we watched an ealing comedy in the company of a bottle of baileys before the bbc showed us footage of a sports reporter and a weather girl falling over on the ice at somerset house and then an opera singer i had never heard of (A had but then again she'd never heard of nirvana until i played her both versions of 'smells like teen spirit' one by nirvana and the other by the ukelele orchestra of great britain) knocked out some aria or other and another reporter kept asking people in the crowds why they had come (answer: because it's new year's eve) and then the fireworks started and went on and on and on and then we polished off the baileys and hit the sack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so to anyone reading this blog consider yourself invited to my end of year party.  it's to celebrate the ending of my 39th year and the beginning of my 40th.  the date is saturday 1st september and if you reply to this post i'll let you know all the details.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8438205268778894676?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8438205268778894676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8438205268778894676' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8438205268778894676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8438205268778894676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/07/108-on-sorting-it-all-out.html' title='#108 on the end of the year'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-5856517887542956542</id><published>2007-07-13T21:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-15T16:24:31.846Z</updated><title type='text'>#107 on timetables</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.spectronicsinoz.com/images/activity/timetablemelissa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 273px;" src="http://www.spectronicsinoz.com/images/activity/timetablemelissa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current music - billericay dickie by ian dury and the blockheads&lt;br /&gt;current mood - amused (you'll never hear any better double entendres)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you remember filling in your timetable at school and, if you are a girl, colouring it in?  do you remember working out where the hell you were meant to be going, who the hell you were meant to be taught by and, if you ever got there, what the hell you were supposed to learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;takes you back huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i've spent nearly all day sorting out a whole school's timetables in preparation for the new term in september when all the kids will come back to school wondering what the hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now call me a sad arse (and many do) but i've had a great day filling in the boxes, working out how to avoid clashes and generally, well generally doing timetables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been a while since i had a really good day.  and today was a really good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-5856517887542956542?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/5856517887542956542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=5856517887542956542' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5856517887542956542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5856517887542956542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/07/108-on-timetables.html' title='#107 on timetables'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-6616189336330013375</id><published>2007-07-11T21:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-11T21:43:13.231Z</updated><title type='text'>#106 on Why Linux is cool and I'm not a geek</title><content type='html'>Lots of people think Microsoft is bad. Bad software, bad ethics. I'm one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think Apple is the ethical alternative to Microsoft. I'm not one of them. Ask yourself if DRM is a good thing (it's the thing that stops you using your music downloaded from itunes etc on your ipod and your computer and to burn it to disc etc.) Ask yourself if the source code for OSX is open or hidden. Ask yourself who owns over 40% of Apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think Linux is for geeks who spend longer trying to get it to work than actually using it. I'm not one of them. I'm not a geek (though you'll never know how hard i've tried to be.) Linux works straight out of the box. It plays DVDs without a fuss. It allows me to use my ipod like any other media player. It allows me to install any programs i like and then change them to suit my needs. It does not require any antivirus software. And it is completely free of charge. Not a penny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh but it's not compatible with Microsoft Office. Oh but it is. Oh but it's not compatible with Windows or Apple networks. Oh but it is. Oh but it's not compatible with Windows or Apple software. Oh but it is (though why would you want it to be?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've led more people to Linux than I have to Jesus. Come now while we sing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...www.linuxmint.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-6616189336330013375?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/6616189336330013375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=6616189336330013375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6616189336330013375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6616189336330013375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/07/106-on-why-linux-is-cool-and-im-not.html' title='#106 on Why Linux is cool and I&apos;m not a geek'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-673194827613940406</id><published>2007-07-11T20:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-11T21:13:57.277Z</updated><title type='text'>#105 on relative speed</title><content type='html'>current mood - happy&lt;br /&gt;current music - tour de france podcast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RpVH6F3cJmI/AAAAAAAAABs/da7hNha1UdY/s1600-h/_42476496_cancellara203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RpVH6F3cJmI/AAAAAAAAABs/da7hNha1UdY/s320/_42476496_cancellara203.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086050417517536866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;now i'm not the fasted guy on two wheels i accept that.  but when i put my foot down on the way to work i can average 24 kph - that's 15 mph in old money. i can go down the hill at common road at 55 kph and have gone faster down other hills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so when i saw the winner of the prologue, fabian cancellara, do the course at an average 53 kph i find myself in awe especially as he's got another 2300 km to go including the alps and the pyrenees thrown in for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i truly am in awe.  but i least i get to work quicker than the cars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-673194827613940406?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/673194827613940406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=673194827613940406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/673194827613940406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/673194827613940406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/07/105-on-relative-speed.html' title='#105 on relative speed'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RpVH6F3cJmI/AAAAAAAAABs/da7hNha1UdY/s72-c/_42476496_cancellara203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-2857547914094032167</id><published>2007-06-17T22:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:43:34.052Z</updated><title type='text'>#104 on the passage of time</title><content type='html'>current music - misplaced childhood by marillion&lt;br /&gt;current mood - mind boggled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 years ago i recall being in scotland in the company of my family watching events unfold in the Falkland Islands.  I was 14 years of age then and a little more politically naive.  i thought it was great that the Argentinians were getting a damned good thrashing at the hands of our boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, that's not the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 years is a long time but in truth it only feels like yesterday.  and when i try to equate it with experiences outside of my time frame it gets even more freaky.  it's the same time gap between the end of WWII and 1960.  and yet those events seem like a lifetime apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's all part of getting old, i suppose.  but as bono sang and i agree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i'm not afraid to live, i'm not afraid to die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope those veterans (as well as the soldiers on active duty at the moment) feel the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-2857547914094032167?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/2857547914094032167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=2857547914094032167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2857547914094032167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2857547914094032167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/06/103-on-passage-of-time.html' title='#104 on the passage of time'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-4308617276346107081</id><published>2007-06-03T19:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:43:18.734Z</updated><title type='text'>#103 on web 2.0 by accident</title><content type='html'>current music - in the waiting line by zero 7&lt;br /&gt;current mood - expectant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always thought i was too old for all this technical stuff but with the exception of text messages, i seem to be getting into the web 2.0 scene albeit by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose the first step was &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm/"&gt;last.fm.&lt;/a&gt;  thanks  to steve i happily listen to all sorts of stuff i never dreamed of listening to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now there's this blog for one.  it's true i've not been too hot on it lately but thanks to steve and liz primarily i am now happy to inflict my mediocrity upon the world.  what's more i've set up a private blog for my family to post thoughts and news on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there was &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/"&gt;flickr&lt;/a&gt;.  well i got this rather fab camera off a mate and started snapping and all of a sudden i needed to inflict all the images on the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then there was &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=535532233"&gt;facebook.&lt;/a&gt;  now that's down to danny.  no sooner had i agreed to be on his page than i'd accidently agreed to set up my own and invite all and sundry to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and d'you know what?  it's good.  i'm reckoning this stuff could actually be a great way of maintaining friendships.  so watch out for this high priest of suburban mediocrity.  i'm out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-4308617276346107081?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/4308617276346107081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=4308617276346107081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4308617276346107081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4308617276346107081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/06/102-on-web-20-by-accident.html' title='#103 on web 2.0 by accident'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-5563026485369138330</id><published>2007-04-21T17:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:43:04.665Z</updated><title type='text'>#102 on another thin place</title><content type='html'>current music - muzak in singapore airport&lt;br /&gt;current mood - tired and awake at the same time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with a few minutes spare while they check the airplane's oil and air pressure and fill up the tank, i assume, i thought i'd let you know of my whereabouts over the last couple of days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b and i travelled up to a place in the high country of victoria, as its known, to howqua; specifically to the cabin owned by jack and judy (although only jack was there for our visit.)  time and indeed emotion permits me only to say that it's a good place for one to immerse oneself into the artistry that god paints vividly at every turn.  i took a gazillion photos, the best of which i'll post on flickr shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if, my dear hob blogglings, you've never been to howqua, put it on your list of places to visit before you die - or you'll regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;similarly - it would only be fair if any of you could oblige me with places that i ought to visit before i die (it would be rude not to, wouldn't it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the way, don't suggest singapore airport - (a) i've been there and (b) it's about as boring as airports can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see some of you soon and others sooner.  i'll be home by lunchtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-5563026485369138330?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/5563026485369138330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=5563026485369138330' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5563026485369138330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5563026485369138330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/101-on-another-thin-place.html' title='#102 on another thin place'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8480026255533828844</id><published>2007-04-16T10:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:42:43.810Z</updated><title type='text'>#101 on sandcastles</title><content type='html'>I went around the Bay with Barry today to see a bit more of Victoria and she looks very well in spite of the drought.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway we stopped in Rye to take a look at some sandcastles. Here's one i didn't make earlier...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RiNDlyRSOWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/jqISgbVIMOM/s1600-h/Melbourne+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but i did think to take a snap shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RiNS0iRSOXI/AAAAAAAAABY/cDmnZbiVwfI/s1600-h/Melbourne+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053974269345806706" style="" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RiNS0iRSOXI/AAAAAAAAABY/cDmnZbiVwfI/s320/Melbourne+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the images are at flickr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8480026255533828844?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8480026255533828844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8480026255533828844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8480026255533828844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8480026255533828844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/sandcastles.html' title='#101 on sandcastles'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RiNS0iRSOXI/AAAAAAAAABY/cDmnZbiVwfI/s72-c/Melbourne+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-867951081581129243</id><published>2007-04-13T05:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-04-13T05:43:50.617Z</updated><title type='text'>#100 on a visit to Victoria Market</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/457345684/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/200/457345684_ca3ce98e7f_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/457345684/"&gt;Melbourne 033&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/7754196@N05/"&gt;darrengoddard&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is one of my snaps from a visit to the hustle and bustle of Victoria Market in Melbourne.&lt;br /&gt;Head over to Flickr to see some more. This I believe is a link to my page&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/"&gt;http://flickr.com/photos/7754196@N05/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Darren&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-867951081581129243?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/867951081581129243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=867951081581129243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/867951081581129243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/867951081581129243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/100-on-visit-to-victoria-market.html' title='#100 on a visit to Victoria Market'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/200/457345684_ca3ce98e7f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-8378171899218746174</id><published>2007-04-12T11:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-12T11:51:43.779Z</updated><title type='text'>#99 on where i am</title><content type='html'>publishing photos on this here blog beyond the ones and twos is a bit of a pain, my dear hob blogglings, so i've taken the liberty to create an account at flickr. thus, if you want to have a virtual evening of me showing endless photos of my trip to melbourne then please make your way over to flickr.com and look me up as darrengoddard (no space)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for those of you who cannot bring themselves to do so here's a taste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/Rh4cziRSOTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/0au5cbA1oj8/s1600-h/test1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052507503654484274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/Rh4cziRSOTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/0au5cbA1oj8/s320/test1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-8378171899218746174?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/8378171899218746174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=8378171899218746174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8378171899218746174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/8378171899218746174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/99-on-where-i-am.html' title='#99 on where i am'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/Rh4cziRSOTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/0au5cbA1oj8/s72-c/test1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-5005619850171110440</id><published>2007-04-06T12:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-06T12:46:48.209Z</updated><title type='text'>#98 on where I've been</title><content type='html'>Well primarily for Liz but for anyone who needs to know I've not really been anywhere of late but the tip toe through the mediocrity of suburbian life has not been without its little upsets lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh nothing major, that's the point I suppose, nothing major ever really happens to this mediocre suburban, but enough for me to need a break from blogging and concentrate on other more stressful streams of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I can't share all my news for some of it is confidential, the details anyway, but let's just say, dear hob blogglings, that one of the major issues in my life has a sort of resoultion to it. Part one of the resolution came on the last day of the Spring Term and the other will come to pass at the end of the Summer Term. Beyond that I can say no more or I'll stand accused again (although without the right of reply) of character assassination. Oh fuck it, I think I'll get plastered and tell all, God knows they've been indiscrete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also my current work situation has taken much of what meagre space my head affords for coping with life. The pressure is on, I'm working hard and still I find myself disappointing those around me I least want to hurt but that situation too, has a sense of completion and closure to it. Again, details cannot be shared but I'm feeling hopeful and optimistic about the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why start blogging again now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RhY_pyKHu9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VvW0oxhoPn4/s1600-h/Barry+%26+Helen+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050294019213999058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RhY_pyKHu9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VvW0oxhoPn4/s320/Barry+%26+Helen+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Well as you've probably picked up from my last couple of posts, I'm in Australia visiting the reason why I started blogging in the first place. My brother is in good form considering all that he has been through of late. Here he is looking gorgeous I'm sure you'll agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So life seems to be a little less stressful than of late.  May long it continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More from Oz Tour 07 to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-5005619850171110440?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/5005619850171110440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=5005619850171110440' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5005619850171110440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/5005619850171110440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/98-on-where-ive-been.html' title='#98 on where I&apos;ve been'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qYHNF-onyGQ/RhY_pyKHu9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VvW0oxhoPn4/s72-c/Barry+%26+Helen+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-2277339913901365773</id><published>2007-04-04T11:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-04T12:26:02.197Z</updated><title type='text'>#97 on long distance travel</title><content type='html'>Just read last night's twaddle again.  I was actually falling asleep whilst typing.  To be honest I'm surprised it made as much sense as it did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway here's a few more of my thoughts about travelling from London to Melbourne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I clearly remeber the strange feeling of detachment as I left Harrow bound for Heathrow airport.    Do you remember 'The Truman Show'.  I felt the same - like it wasn't really real.  I felt like everyone was just putting a show on for me and that I was being manouvreed and manipulated away from the house to the airport.  Do you remember that scene in 'The Matrix' when Neo goes back into the Matrix for the first time following his rescue?  How he marvels at restaurants were he had once eaten coming to terms that it wasn't actually real?  That's how it felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably just a bit nervous.  But that's how it felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also remember being very polite towards the stewardesses on the flight, eating all the food put in front of me - even though I don't like melon - and leaving my seat all neat and tidy - I even folded the blanket.  And then departing the plane and seeing the mess that everyone else left behind.  I sort of felt a sense of moral pride and then just felt a bit foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember looking out of the window somewhere above the Indian Ocean seeing the most georgeous of sunsets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sitting next to another assistant headteacher for 13 hours.  What are the chances of that?  But we agreed to stop talking about work after about 10 minutes.  You'll never know how difficult that was!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But beyond that I really can't remember much else about the flight.  Long haul is unbelievably boring.  You are too bored to watch the telly (although I must say I did enjoy Casino Royale), too full to eat (although you do anyway), to stiff to move and too British to ask the person next to you to let you out to pee while they are watching Casino Royale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm here now.  Still feeling a little stiff (or maybe that's just my age.)  Had a practical day today, buying a few bits and bobs and getting an old bike to work so that I can get around the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'll post a few photos taken with the super camera lent to me by my good pal G with a view to me buying it upon my return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 'til then I'll bid you good night in whatever time zone you find yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-2277339913901365773?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/2277339913901365773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=2277339913901365773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2277339913901365773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/2277339913901365773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/97-on-long-distance-travel.html' title='#97 on long distance travel'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-4903763548077042903</id><published>2007-04-02T10:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-02T10:23:13.229Z</updated><title type='text'>#96 on jet lag</title><content type='html'>current mood - very very tired but wide awake as well&lt;br /&gt;current music - none but listening earlier to 'we can work it out' by The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a strange thing when your body is telling you one thing and your mind is telling another.  It happens in lots of ways not just the effects of long haul travel.  For example your body tells you not to bite that finger nail but instead your brain overrides the command and bites it off not so much up to the quick but more like up to elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it with the inability to string coherent sentences together and instead just crack bad jokes that I begin this new section of my blog all about my trip to Australia to visit big brother B and his partner F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll recount the joys of do it yourself contortionism also known as economy class travel later and just take a moment to paint alittle pictutre of my first few minutes on Australian soil for I think serves as a reminder of my ultimate reason for being here at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darren untwists and uncurls his body from his airliner seat and troops off to customs and immigration at 5:30 before looking for his case (a large black suitcase - that'll stick out from the crowd!)  In reality the official bit is a breeze and, for the first time ever, his case is waiting for him on the carousel thus causing him not to develop the usual panic that actually his case is in Rome while he is in Melbourne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as he passes down the corridor and around the corner with the cool breeze of freedom blowing in his face whom should Darren meet at the barrier than his big brother, his primary reason for coming to Australia.  A moment of tearful embrace is shared and then another.  The pair walk slowly to find F waiting with the car lest it get a ticket at 5:45 a.m. (and I thought Harrow parking wardens were tough)  A short drive later Darren finds himself at home in good old Flemington in a neighbourhood that looks 'The Sullivans' is just about to start recording - all picturesque, needy and charming.  Darren spends much of the rest of the day doing practical chores plus taking B &amp; F's dog, Helen, for a walk to the local shops to thinks about photos he might take of the locality and it's inhabitants in future days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He chats with B for much of the rest of the day making plans before F gets home and chat and wine continues before Darren excuses himself to write blog (whilst nodding off to sleep) and then hit sack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tomorrow dear hob bloglins when I'm more awake than now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-4903763548077042903?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/4903763548077042903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=4903763548077042903' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4903763548077042903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/4903763548077042903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/04/96-on-jet-lag.html' title='#96 on jet lag'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-1783805736750243261</id><published>2007-01-07T22:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:27:42.856Z</updated><title type='text'>#95 on hyping a song to number 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;Current mood – a strange feeling of preparedness for work that I have not felt for some time&lt;br /&gt;Current music – ‘Cloudbursting’ by Kate Bush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Two bits of news crossed my path this week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Firstly that young Mr Lawson now has his damn fine CDs for sale at itunes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And secondly that the pop charts are to be calculated on electronic sales as well as (or is it instead of) physical over the counter sales.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;So let’s all get on down to itunes and download those little puppies to hype him all the way to number 1.  I'm sure it's what he's always dreamed of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;Not ‘arf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-1783805736750243261?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/1783805736750243261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=1783805736750243261' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/1783805736750243261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/1783805736750243261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/01/95-on-hyping-song-to-number-1.html' title='#95 on hyping a song to number 1'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-6485184562178974945</id><published>2007-01-03T23:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-03T23:50:52.102Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the reading circle'/><title type='text'>#94 on the sound and the fury</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Current mood – tired and full in the head&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Current music – ‘Edible Flowers’ by The Finn Brothers&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player&lt;br /&gt;That struts and frets his hour upon the stage&lt;br /&gt;And then is heard no more: it is &lt;span style=""&gt;a tale&lt;br /&gt;Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,&lt;br /&gt;Signifying nothing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So says Macbeth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This month’s book – ‘&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sound-Fury-Vintage-Classics/dp/0099475014/sr=8-1/qid=1167867661/ref=sr_1_1/203-6472554-6389513?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;The Sound and the Fury&lt;/a&gt;’ – by William Faulkner was a very challenging read.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact it required a bit of googling for some extra help to really understand quite what was going on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But if you have had the pleasure(?) of tackling the text you’ll know that the effort was worth it for we are given a view into the minds of people we perhaps we could never know otherwise and witness the implosion of a family at close hand.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Powerful.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So to lighten the mood a little I have suggested ‘&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Patchwork-Planet-Anne-Tyler/dp/0099272687/sr=8-1/qid=1167867579/ref=sr_1_1/203-6472554-6389513?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;A Patchwork Planet&lt;/a&gt;’ by Anne Tyler for our next meeting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Has she ever written a stinker?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve yet to be disappointed by any of her work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Characters come alive and through the observation of small matters you always get a glimpse of the bigger picture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;It’s some time since I read this book and I’m looking forward to it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-6485184562178974945?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/6485184562178974945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=6485184562178974945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6485184562178974945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/6485184562178974945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2007/01/94-on-sound-and-fury.html' title='#94 on the sound and the fury'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-116700157152263802</id><published>2006-12-24T22:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-29T20:53:12.233Z</updated><title type='text'>#93 on wishing you a Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;current mood - excited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;current music - Wintersong by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;Sarah McLachlan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well I know it's been some time since my last post (in fact it was back in November when the 'last post' was being blown or bugled or whatever it is that bugulars do that I last posted.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, I just wanted to wish all of you in your varied though always beautiful guises a very merry Christmas and a peaceful new year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And why am I posting now when I should be tuicked up in bed waiting dreaming of Santa Claus and snow?  Well I received this card from an old and wise guy at church and I think it sums up the Christmas spirit for me perfectly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4359/2074/1600/938418/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4359/2074/400/684362/1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-116700157152263802?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/116700157152263802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=116700157152263802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116700157152263802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116700157152263802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/12/93-on-wishing-you-merry-christmas.html' title='#93 on wishing you a Merry Christmas'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-116337128520533467</id><published>2006-11-12T22:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-17T22:46:27.160Z</updated><title type='text'>#92 on how many bottles do you take to the shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/IMAGE_00016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/320/IMAGE_00016.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current music - 'Exodus' by Bob Marley &amp;amp; The Wailers&lt;br /&gt;current mood -  chuffed (internet been back for 8 hours!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thought I'd let you see it here first - my new groovy hair do - or lack of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-116337128520533467?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/116337128520533467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=116337128520533467' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116337128520533467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116337128520533467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/11/92-on-how-many-bottles-do-you-take-to.html' title='#92 on how many bottles do you take to the shower'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-116337107339669636</id><published>2006-11-12T22:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-12T22:37:53.496Z</updated><title type='text'>#91 on where the hell I've been</title><content type='html'>current music - 'Exodus' by Bob Marley &amp; The Wailers&lt;br /&gt;current mood - relief (for I have finally got an internet connection at home)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the more observant of you, my dear bloglings, will have noticed that I have note blogged since the last day of August; on that day I reported losing my internet connection and it is only today, the 12 November FFS, that I have finally be reconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So expect many a post in the days ahead where the pointless banality of suburban life will be exposed for all it is and celebrated for all it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've missed blogging and watching your blogs.  I'll be in touch soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-116337107339669636?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/116337107339669636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=116337107339669636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116337107339669636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/116337107339669636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/11/91-on-where-hell-ive-been.html' title='#91 on where the hell I&apos;ve been'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115703036828400517</id><published>2006-08-31T13:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-11T16:48:51.146Z</updated><title type='text'>#90 on wanting to blog</title><content type='html'>Current mood - nervous excitement&lt;br /&gt;Current music - none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am currently sitting in the staffroom of my new school typing this entry as I have no internet connection at home. It would appear as though my ISP have entered into a dispute with BT leaving the bills unpaid and me (and my mum and aunt who went with the same company on my recommendation) without internet access.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm just about recovered from Greenbelt - my tummy is still a little churny but I've caught up with my sleep and have the fond memories to keep me company when I'm daydreaming. Among the most fond are hearing A sing with the sublime Steve as part of a beautiful triple bill with Julie McKee and Juliet Turner. A master stroke of planning and organisation in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also fantastic to introduce Jude Simpson who, quite frankly, was on possibly the best form I have ever seen. Her poetry was delivered with exquisite timing and the in between banter played to the crowd magically. A treat to have been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't catch much of the music programme but Weapons of Sound stand out as my most enjoyable musical experience. Being able to get right to the front of mainstage with two small children in complete safety was magic. I'm going to try and book a workshop for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also going to try and get the mobile farm to come to school as well. That'll be a hoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sit here in anticipation waiting for my new job to kick in first with staff on Monday and then with kiddiwinks on Tuesday. I can't help but feeling homesick for my old job and I know there are friends who'll be going back there who'll miss me - heaven knows I'm going to miss them too but I have to say that there were some things about the way that school was being managed that made it impossible for me to stay and advance my career. I'm sad but not bitter. Put bluntly I'm putting more energy into the new challenges ahead of me than on the frustrations of the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't expect too many posts for the time being.  i'll do what I can and let you know of prgress.  By the way if Euro1net do fold, who would make a good replacement?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115703036828400517?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115703036828400517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115703036828400517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115703036828400517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115703036828400517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/90-on-wanting-to-blog.html' title='#90 on wanting to blog'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115594132063240906</id><published>2006-08-18T22:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-18T23:06:51.033Z</updated><title type='text'>#89 on a fiendish and addictive game</title><content type='html'>current music - none (been listening to Big Brother in the other room)&lt;br /&gt;current mood - frustrated (read on...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i get to the end of a successful day.  Met an old friend and all our kids played together well.  Wrote a whole bunch of Greenbelt emails that should hopefully wrap things up.  (Like that's going to happen).  The current toal of emails in my Greenbelt box is 879, more than last year.  Phew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, i've finished my emails.  I've seen Pete win Big Brother.  (I feel quite good about that and I'm looking to see how the mass media try to put a handle on him.)  And now i sit down do play my current time waster - &lt;a href="http://www.mousebreaker.com/games/hapland/play.php"&gt;Hapland!&lt;/a&gt;  Now let's be clear - this game is a bastard and what makes it worse is I know there are walkthrough guides available that will show me how to rescue those little stick men. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why not click the link and give it a go.  I guarantee that once started you will not be able to leave it alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115594132063240906?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115594132063240906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115594132063240906' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115594132063240906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115594132063240906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/89-on-fiendish-and-addictive-game.html' title='#89 on a fiendish and addictive game'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115585203100855027</id><published>2006-08-17T21:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-17T22:00:31.086Z</updated><title type='text'>#88 on A level results and electricians</title><content type='html'>current music - 'Tubular Bells' by Mike Oldfield&lt;br /&gt;current mood - frustrated (I am really getting into Linux but by golly it's a bugger to configure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are greeted with the news today that most of the kids who stayed on for A levels have passed them and yet again the same old same old debate kicks off again - are they getting easier or are the kids getting smarter etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant number one is at non-lives who ring into radio chat shows and say 'well i did my A levels in 1962 and they were bloody hard then and only 3 people in the country who passed and we lived in a cardboard box and we had to lick it clean every morining and then work 25 hours a day down pit...' and so on and so on.  Yeah A levels have changed and rightfully so in my view.  Quite frankly anyone who, in my day, could cram two years work into their head and come up with the answers for a three hour exam was either lucky or slightly freakish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said that I think the pendulum has swung a bit too far.  Didn't the examining boards suspect that by  allowing the pupils to do coursework at home, some over anxious parents might help (FFS).  And I'm not talking about getting mum to colour in the bars on the graphs.  In this age of communication when one pupil has worked it out (or got their uncle with a degree in physics to work it out) all the pupils are going to know about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favoured option mirrors some (and looking back on it, not enough) of the courses I read at university.  There we had 18 week semesters broken into study, revision and then exam phases.  One essay mid way through the course to check we were on the ball and one exam at the end - three hours, three questions bosh.  Harsh but fair.  It made you revise but you knew you only had fifteen weeks to revise, not two years.  And if you buggered up the exam your essay score would usually bump the average and if you buggered up the essay as well, well you probably deserved the fail.  Harsh but fair.  You are there to learn after all.  Now if they applied that to A levels, maybe examiners would get a more satisfactory picture.  A terms work and then an exam.  Bosh.  First year results to give a grade average and away you go on the second year.  Bugger it up you have to repeat the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually my really favoured option is to do what we have been doing in Key Stage One for ages now.  Just hand in the teacher assessment and forget about stupid bleedin' exams.  Ask any teacher worth their salt and they will be able to tell you within a gnat's crotchet what level any pupil is on and what that pupil needs to do next to move on to the next level.  That's what we do.  That's why we are shit hot at our job.  That's why we get paid so much?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broadly speaking I think the kids are getting smarter.  For several reasons.  Firstly we do get brighter as a nation as time goes by (academically that is, not morally).  How long ago was it that most of the country was illiterate?  When I went to school we did electric circuits with bulbs, batteries and wires in High Shcool.  Now we teach it in Year 2.  We are teaching more stuff in better ways to younger kids becausethey are ready to learn it.  No wonder they can pass the top tier exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, the A level curriculum has changed very little over the past few years.  Now this is a key point.  When governments stop interfering in schools, teachers get on with what they are good at getting on with - teaching.  Even if the system is a bit crap, they can still make it work.  I tell you, when the goal posts have wheels on to make it easier to move them, when the only consistent thing is the amount of change, when the secretary of state states, 'change is here to stay', our jobs become very difficult, almost to the point of imposibility.  That's what pisses teachers off.  More than the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thirdly, kids have wised up to the fact that if they want to get on in the world they need a degree.  And the route to University is through A levels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I say bollocks to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I failed all my A levels.  I was immature and very unhappy.  There was no pastoral support at school.  Home was a mess and I wanted to be there less than I wanted to be at school.  The teaching was pretty crap as I recall and looking back on it it was the biggest mistake of my life to date, especially as I already had a job in th bag which I backed out of to stay on at the advice of the careers teacher.  I'm not trying to pass the buck - I deserved what I got and my only regret looking back was that no one, including me, had the balls to say this isn't working sooner, and let me sit through those awful exams knowing already what the outcome was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To continue the autobiography, I went to wrok and eight years later, with a BTEC A level equivalent from night school under my belt, I went to university to study for my BEd in which I got a first, thus proving (to myself) that I wasn't thick because I couldn't get an A level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now University was great for me and so has been my career as a teacher since.  Why?  Because I had eight years from the University of Life to help me do my job.  So many of the kids I studied with had never left school.  And don't start talking to me about gap years. FFS.  Back packing to Burma for a couple of months does not prepare you for the real world.  One year is not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my mate D is an electrician.  I honestly don't know what his educational qualifications are but I tell you what, he is never out of work.  Come to think of it have you ever met a sparks or a plumber or a tiler who is short of work or cash?  Yes, they need a level of academic achievement, of course they do, but the middle class, so called, intelligensia peer down their noses at those who don't have letters after their name as if their job is menial and pointless whilst clapping our hands with joy because Johnny has got three A's which means he can go to the University of Nowhere to study Balderdash and Frisbee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that kids who study really hard for A levels and then go on to University believing they are guaranteed their passport to the real world are putting their ladders up against the wrong wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The debate should not be about how hard A levels are.  It should be about what is the point of A levels.  Should they simply be a route to University or should they be a means of preparing brighter pupils for a successful place among the workforce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115585203100855027?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115585203100855027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115585203100855027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115585203100855027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115585203100855027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/88-on-level-results-and-electricians.html' title='#88 on A level results and electricians'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115576504656704919</id><published>2006-08-16T21:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-16T21:50:46.586Z</updated><title type='text'>#87 on checklists, wu wei and getting things done</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;current music - none (no reason just haven't configured amaroK properly yet)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;current mood - resolute (determined to get to the bottom of my to do list before Greenbelt)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat in the bath today and tried to think through how I can stroll throu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;gh this rainstorm called life avoiding the raindrops and yet manage to get all the things done that I need to get done without a nervous breakdown.  My prcess of thought went roughly along the lines of ditching the unnecessary, doing the necessary a little and often, revere each minute and make space to relax. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was successful.  Tomorrow is another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now in my mind I have a checklist of all the things I ought to do each day.  If I lived in the 100 Aker Wood, Rabbit would have got Christopher Robin to draw up a chart, Owl would have made crammed too many items in it and eeyore would tell me it's pointless and not to even bother.  I'm going to emulate my good Pooh and just let all of the things take care of themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like blogging a bit more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115576504656704919?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115576504656704919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115576504656704919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115576504656704919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115576504656704919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/87-on-checklists-wu-wei-and-getting.html' title='#87 on checklists, wu wei and getting things done'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115515842877311949</id><published>2006-08-09T20:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-09T21:20:28.870Z</updated><title type='text'>#86 on getting ready for greenbelt</title><content type='html'>Current mood - excited  &lt;br /&gt;Current music - 'Praise You' by Fat Boy Slim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of prepare for Greenbelt in different ways.  Of that I am sure.  Back in the Castle Ashby days I remember one mate decided to join us at the last minute and turned up in his cortina estate with a box of apples and no tent.  He slept in the back of his car and swapped apples for bread etc.  We have a fantastic photo of him standing in front of car one morning bedecked in his stripy dressing gown.  He's a Salvation Army Officer now.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me I am in the beautiful place between getting all my emails sent and replied to (well mostly) and actually pitching up at that beautiful thin place where you can stand on the ground and touch heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, having borrowed my sister's tent and pitched it in the garden to check that it is all there, me and the boys decided to eat our tea and then go to bed in the back garden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a father to son thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am currently typing by torchlight (no backlit keyboard for me you smug macbook users) listening to ipod - one year they played 'praise you' incessantly between acts on the mainstage and it's sort of stuck with me now as my greenbelt song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I am officially excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115515842877311949?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115515842877311949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115515842877311949' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115515842877311949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115515842877311949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/86-on-getting-ready-for-greenbelt.html' title='#86 on getting ready for greenbelt'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115472951532957140</id><published>2006-08-04T22:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-04T22:11:55.343Z</updated><title type='text'>#85 on perseverance</title><content type='html'>Current mood - tired but satisfied&lt;br /&gt;Current music - none (everyone's gone off to bed leaving me all alone)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm at my mum and aunt's house right now typing this entry on their rather posh, it must be said, laptop that they invested in a few months ago. They also splashed out on a rather posh printer cum scanner and a digital camera. Their aim - to scan the zillions of old family photos that currently fill their spare room plus to photograph pretty much all they do as they share their well earned retirement in Suffolk and beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I was here I showed my aunt how to use the scanner and the lesson this time was transferring images from the digital camera. It took some time but my aunt showed great perseverance to get her head around not only the concept of transferring images but also how to store them too. I kept it simple and I think she understands fairly well. I'll type some instructions and we'll see how she gets in in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could have been so easy to type a patronising entry about how crap she is at all this technology stuff but I tell you what if I'm as open minded and patient as she is when I'm her age I will be very proud indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this entry is dedicated to your dear aunt. Now don't bugger it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115472951532957140?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115472951532957140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115472951532957140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115472951532957140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115472951532957140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/85-on-perseverance.html' title='#85 on perseverance'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115464123607213199</id><published>2006-08-03T21:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-03T21:40:36.136Z</updated><title type='text'>#84 on cars</title><content type='html'>Current mood - relaxed&lt;br /&gt;current music - Saturn from The Planets Suite by Holst&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well last night's post didn't quite make it to blogger. Don't quite know why and stupidly I didn't save it elsewhere so we'll just put it down to experience. It was some self indulgent twaddle about having a bit more time to do stuff I should/need/want to do etc.  And as if to prove a point, tonight's thought download refers to a trip to the cinema with A, S and N today to see Pixar/Disney new offering 'Cars'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much like my own car it took some time to get going; a long preface led our main caracter (sorry for the pun) into a small town on Route 66 of the main I-State where he has to pay penance for being brash and proud and self serving.   So we get our tale of learning new values and friendship and, well you know pixar's style by now and it all turns out ok in the end.  It reminded me somewhat of 'Doc Hollywood' where Michael J Fox gets stuck in small town America and has to work his punishment for some misdemenour and so on and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the up side the technical wizardry made the production completely believable. Pixar's reliance on non human characters means that we don't object to seeing solid and inanimate objects actually moving. A couple of set pieces were really enjoyable too - the scene in the field of tractors is very funny and the ending credits sequence where the cars go to a drive in to watch other Pixar movies with cars playing characters like Woody and Buzz and James P Sullivan, were inspired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the down side - and this frankly has been the problem with every single animated tale since Monsters Inc. - the story just wasn't inventive enough to capture the imagination of the kids, let alone the adults. It doesn't matter seamless the production is, if the story isn't good enough, the movie isn't good enough.  Also my eco-alarm rang as I witnessed scenes of car racing with literally thousands of American cars in the spectator galleries and scenes of roads with literally thousands of American cars on them.  The American (and ergo British) love affair with greenhouse emissions is really reinforced in this movie as cars are turned into cute creatures with feelings too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it I don't recall seeing any exhaust fumes at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115464123607213199?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115464123607213199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115464123607213199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115464123607213199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115464123607213199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/08/84-on-cars.html' title='#84 on cars'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115352331488327275</id><published>2006-07-21T22:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:06:56.956Z</updated><title type='text'>#83 on the light at the end of the tunnel</title><content type='html'>current mood:  stressed (so much to do so little time to do it in) &lt;br /&gt;current music:  none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly may I welcome my new bloglings aboard the good ship mediocrity.  At school today I dropped my blog title to the pupils so that they could keep in touch as both they and I head for pastures new.  Some have already posted and others may choose to do so yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a week.  No time for details suffice it to say that the heady cocktail of meetings, parties, graduations, deadlines and heat that saps one of both mental and physical energy has left me an empty shell.  A has just got in from work and I can barely cope with being in the same room with her.  It's not her - I love A and cannot wait for her to get home each night.  It's me and my inability to cope with just about anything at the moment - that's the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as the title of tonight's download suggests, there could be some light peeping through at the end of the tunnel.  School is done.  Isle of Wight beckons.  Greenbelt deadlines just about stuck to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i just need to go and make my peace with A.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115352331488327275?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115352331488327275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115352331488327275' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115352331488327275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115352331488327275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/07/83-on-light-at-end-of-tunnel.html' title='#83 on the light at the end of the tunnel'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115222177053674440</id><published>2006-07-06T21:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:05:59.073Z</updated><title type='text'>#82 on cowardice</title><content type='html'>Current mood – bemused&lt;br /&gt;Current music – ‘Die Another Day’ by Madonna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get to work and check my pigeon hole for paper work etc. only to find a page from my blog printed out – the last entry ‘#80 on meetings’ to be precise – and the words ‘YOU ARE SO OUT OF ORDER’ scratched across the top in biro.  It’s the first page of seven in the print out and so I can only assume that someone has printed out my blog and decided to comment upon it in a not so hi-tech fashion as posting a comment on line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m a glass half full guy.  In fact I would say that the glass is twice the size it should be.  I trawled around my friends on the staff who read my blog and none of them said they wrote it – not as an ironic comment nor as a serious criticism of my actions in bringing alleged misleading declarations by the head teacher to the attention of the Chair of Governors.  So whoever it was – friend or foe – someone was trying o tell me something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my response takes two forms to cover all the bases…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A)  If you wrote the note and you were having a laugh (and I must confess my initial reaction was to laugh) then please let me know who you are and we can share the joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(B)  If you were making a genuine comment please have the balls to post your comment publicly in the same way that I post my comments publicly to allow free and open debate.  This, of course, assumes that this was your intention.  Some of my friends think it is bullying and harassment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not ‘so out of order’.  Firstly, I did not betray any confidences in bringing to light the information that I did.  Everything I told the Chair of Governors was information in the public domain; not a single jot of it was confidential.  Secondly, I have not done anything illegal.  I have not incriminated myself in this plot and claimed ‘I was only following orders.’  I had nothing to do with the Head Teacher’s actions.  Thirdly, I had a moral and ethical duty to advise the Chair of Governors of what I did.  Is it right that allegedly false declarations of interest are made for me to  turn a blind eye if I happen to chance upon the information?  And fourthly, I may even have had a legal responsibility to report what I did.  I’m no lawyer but if you think something illegal has occurred am I not bound by the law to report it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have acted properly throughout the whole of this sorry business.  I have no personal agenda, no axe to grind – I’ll not even be working for the school or the local authority beyond August 31. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to see is a proper investigation carried out, the findings made public for the whole school community to see and the appropriate course of action taken so that the school is seen by the whole community to be publicly preserving it’s integrity.  And if by my taking up this little piece of cyberspace I have made more people aware of the alleged wrongdoing at my workplace then so much the better.  I do not force anyone to read this blog, and I certainly don’t demand that anyone believes a word of it.  Free thinking people in a liberal society have the right to make that decision for themselves, they don’t have to scratch a comment on a print out and stuff it in a pigeon hole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I’m ‘so out of order’ you might want to reconsider your own motives for scrawling the note.  What are you scared of?  That the truth might actually come out?  That people should be held to the highest professional standards of conduct especially when the education of children is at stake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post a reply if you dare or care.  Or else shut the fuck up and go and look up integrity in a dictionary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115222177053674440?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115222177053674440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115222177053674440' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115222177053674440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115222177053674440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/07/82-on-cowardice.html' title='#82 on cowardice'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115187571501705634</id><published>2006-07-02T21:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:04:58.953Z</updated><title type='text'>#81 on meetings</title><content type='html'>Current mood – hot and tired&lt;br /&gt;Current music – ‘Bird Land’ by Man Tran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had several meetings this week, some planned, some unplanned, some enjoyable and others not so.  Here’s a digest of some of those comings together…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readers of my spilling the beans on the Head Teacher at school and her alleged misleading of the Governors (I say ‘alleged’ because that’s what they say on Have I Got News For You to avoid legal actions in spite of what they may actually think) will be pleased to know I had an informal meeting with the Chair of Governors who told me it was all an administrative thing, not too worry, it’s all sorted now, don’t worry about, bullshit, bullshit, etcetera, etcetera.  I’m still waiting for it all in writing and will let you know in due course dear readers.  Later on a glance through the school diary to pick up some dates showed a meeting between the Head Teacher and Director of Children’s Services for tomorrow (Monday).  I don’t know what it’s about but I can put 2 and 2 together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met with my new Head Teacher to sort out how my new job is going to work out.  She seems like a lovely person (listens with fingers out of ears) and I’m so looking forward to starting in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A phone call from my big brother to say he was in town and wanted to stay over led to a nice meeting that included curry and wine and DVD’s and chat and more chat.  It was a wonderful surprise and just what I needed after a shitty couple of days.  Since then I’ve gone back to carry on repairing the fabric of my psyche as far as my Dad goes culminating in a very strange dream last night that started with my Dad taking me to football (something we only did a few times) through to me taking my sick uncle (now passed on) to football.  Circe of life stuff.  Sad but uplifting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday saw me meeting with the Greenbelt Programming group at Cheltenham that also included the wonderful Site Operations Group.  It’s always exciting attending what will probably be the last programming group meeting before the big event itself and meeting with the site ops mob is always a special, if slightly odd experience.  Given that most of my readers including one of people who inspired me to concoct this daily download of drivel are part of that very team, I should point out that by odd, I mean quirky in the most beautiful ‘northern exposuresque’ sense of the word.  To be embraced by a group with such a close nit identity is strangely powerful.  I’ve even learnt several nicknames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I met with my church congregation to lead the service.  It was hot, too hot and although I kept the service short and the liturgy simple, I also think (and this was the best meeting of all) that Jesus met with us too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115187571501705634?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115187571501705634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115187571501705634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115187571501705634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115187571501705634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/07/81-on-meetings.html' title='#81 on meetings'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115075269548311230</id><published>2006-06-19T21:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:04:15.193Z</updated><title type='text'>#80 on making poetry interesting for 12 year olds</title><content type='html'>current mood - weary but satisfied&lt;br /&gt;current music -                    &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Georg+Friedrich+H%C3%A4ndel/_/Sorge+Infausta+Una+Procella"&gt;       Sorge Infausta Una Procella&lt;/a&gt;  by &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Georg+Friedrich+H%C3%A4ndel" title="" class=""&gt;Georg Friedrich Händel&lt;/a&gt; sung by &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Georg+Friedrich+H%C3%A4ndel/Bryn+Terfel+sings+Handel+Arias" class="current"&gt;Bryn Terfel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so how does one improve the educational experience of the average year 7 pupil.  well I certainly don't have the monopoly on wisdom here but I'm rather pleased with today's offering.  I found this &lt;a href="http://www.randomdrivel.com/displayarticle4328.html"&gt;haiku&lt;/a&gt; based on the opening sequence of The Matrix.  So armed with my DVD, a mute button (the children are not allowed to hear the words 'arse', 'dick' (as in juris-my-dick-tion) and 'shit' FFS) and a copy of the haiku, we all watched the opening sequence and compared it to the haiku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the master stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoping that the children would mention it (and they did) Trinity's kick to put one of the policemen's lights out is reprised in 'Shrek' by Fiona when she singlehandedly kicks the shit out Robin Hood and his Merry Men.  Quick as a flash I pushed my copy of 'Shrek' into the drive and played the opening sequence for them to discuss and then put into haiku form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've not finished yet.  (You know it's gone well when the children don't realise that home time has caught up with them and they don't want to go home.)  But when we have I'll post some of their efforts.  What I've read so far is pant wettingly funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115075269548311230?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115075269548311230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115075269548311230' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115075269548311230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115075269548311230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/80-on-making-poetry-interesting-for-12.html' title='#80 on making poetry interesting for 12 year olds'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115066391449418065</id><published>2006-06-18T20:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-02T21:02:39.846Z</updated><title type='text'>#79 on the verb to be</title><content type='html'>current mood - relaxed&lt;br /&gt;current music -  'I am a Man of Constant Sorrow' by The Soggy Bottom Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't choose this music so much as it chose me.  I am currently connected to &lt;a href="http://www.last.fm"&gt;Last.fm&lt;/a&gt;.  I put 'soundtrack' into the search box and have been played all sorts of film music that I have never heard of apart from 'AxelF' from Beverly Hills Cop (a classic) and 'May It Be' by Enya from Lord of the Rings.  But there you go, as soon as I start typing, those good ol' Soggy Bottom Boys strike up the band, the countrified version - do they sing this version at the town hall meeting near the end of the film?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I heard a rumour there's going to be a sing-a-long-a-O Brother Where Art Thou? at &lt;a href="http://www.greenbelt.org.uk"&gt;Greenbelt &lt;/a&gt;this year.  I hope I haven't spoken out of turn here but if the event does go ahead I'll be there for one of the best films I've ever seen.  Can the Coen brothers do anything bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, to the subject of tonight's confused rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend John spoke movingly and powerfully today about relying on our own strength (see Judges 6:11-18) given that God is with us.  And it got me thinking.  So next week, when I preach I shall build on those ideas and somehow dovetail in my own personal fascination with toaism.  Like water finding it's way around stones, let's not get too worked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dear bloglings who may chance upon this post at the beginning of this week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be ll things to all people.  Don't be your own worst enemy.  In fact, just... be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115066391449418065?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115066391449418065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115066391449418065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115066391449418065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115066391449418065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/79-on-verb-to-be.html' title='#79 on the verb to be'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115058027582261894</id><published>2006-06-17T21:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-17T21:37:55.883Z</updated><title type='text'>#78 on who you should cheer for</title><content type='html'>Current mood – distracted&lt;br/&gt;Current music – radio 5 live phone in on why kids need dads&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I’m really enjoying the world cup it has to be said.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Even the matches that, under normal circumstances, I should have no interest in whatsoever find me glued to the screen when there are a million far more important things to be done.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;To increase the excitement I have undertaken a couple of diversions.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Firstly, I have instituted a score predictor game in class.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Me and about fifteen of the children in the class predict the scores for the games coming up that day.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You score 3 points for getting the score correct and a single point if you correctly guess a win, lose or draw.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Currently I am languishing just above the relegation zone.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In fact if you exclude the children who have been away this week I think I am probably the worst in the class!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Still there’s 9 matches up for grabs this weekend and 27 points on offer.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ll post the league table soon.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The second diversion is a way of deciding who to cheer for in the matches that have no significance.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For this task I have turned to an excellent &lt;a href="http://www.wdm.org.uk/whoshouldicheerfor/chooser.htm"&gt;application&lt;/a&gt; from the World Development Agency.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It does put things in perspective a bit more.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Come on Ghana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115058027582261894?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115058027582261894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115058027582261894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115058027582261894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115058027582261894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/78-on-who-you-should-cheer-for.html' title='#78 on who you should cheer for'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115049743613759970</id><published>2006-06-16T22:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-16T22:37:16.220Z</updated><title type='text'>#77 on whistle blowing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood – apprehensive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music – ‘L’Exécution’ by Angelo Badalamenti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I think the strict definition of whistle blowing involves one incriminating oneself in the act of exposing the wrongdoings of one’s management.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Or having to have done something covert or underhand to expose that wrongdoing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, I have done none of those things.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It appears as though my boss has made a factually incorrect declaration of interest to the Governing Body.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;All I have done is brought to light publicly available information (including her own website FFS) which contradicts the statement she has made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Worse are the implications of her actions.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We could be looking at something ranging from stupidity to incompetence right through to misappropriation of funds to fraud.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And that’s a sackable offence, even criminal.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Now I won’t be leading on any investigation.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I have passed that responsibility to others.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I can now let events take their course and allow my emotional roller coaster come to a halt and let me off.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But nevertheless it still all feels a bit weird.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve been rehearsing answers to questions for when I am carpeted on Monday morning as I expect to be.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I have rerun the events of the past few months over and over in my head and I keep coming back to the same place – I didn’t make her do what she did, people need to be held accountable for what they have done, I have no personal axe to grind here (I’ve resigned from the school) and how would I have felt if had done nothing at all.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What’s more, my child and my friend’s children attend the school and deserve the best possible school leadership.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So you toss that lot together and you can begin to understand how my emotions are a bit of a salad tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115049743613759970?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115049743613759970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115049743613759970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115049743613759970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115049743613759970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/77-on-whistle-blowing.html' title='#77 on whistle blowing'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-115032760710820490</id><published>2006-06-14T23:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-14T23:26:47.216Z</updated><title type='text'>#76 on the mystery of youth</title><content type='html'>Current mood:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;bedazzled and short of head space&lt;br/&gt;Current music:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;‘Maroon’ – Barenecked Ladies&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;You know you’re getting old when…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;You think you can easily replace the hard drive in your laptop only to waste the whole evening being unable to get the thing apart having removed every screw you can find and then when you finally give up and put the screws back in, you have about 6 left over and just cannot be arsed to put them back in.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And, you talk the computer techie at work to do the job for you only to find out that he hasn’t seen ‘Back to the Future’ (the DVD hastily removed from the drive as you hand it over) because, wait for it, he wasn’t even born when it came out.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;My mid life crisis is predicated on the notion that a whole new generation knows nothing of the cultural values that I (and I hopefully speak for my generation) have used to construct my understanding of the world.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s not so much a case of ‘youngsters today know nothing’, it’s more case of&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;‘youngsters today know loads of things that I don’t.’&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No wonder I seem barely able to tiptoe through modern life and they seem to stride across it without even noticing.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I’m not too upset though.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve got the ‘Back to the Future’ box set to keep me happy .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-115032760710820490?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/115032760710820490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=115032760710820490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115032760710820490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/115032760710820490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/76-on-mystery-of-youth.html' title='#76 on the mystery of youth'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114954298593252823</id><published>2006-06-05T21:03:00.001Z</published><updated>2006-06-05T21:31:31.673Z</updated><title type='text'>#75 on the continuing Linux journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;current mood - confused (being in between jobs is a curious sensation. The loyalty to my current class is mixed with the excitement of developing a new agenda at my new school and the cocktail of emotions is a heady mixture)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;current music - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Project Pitchfork - 'Steelrose'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an interesting conversation with a friend. He, like I, is a bit of a an amateur computer geek knowing a little about a lot of things. When I told him of my transition to Linux he was quite interested and asked the usual questions about ease of use and compatibility. He seemed fairly unimpressed because Linux would not run all the applications that Windows can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fair point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But actually I'm feeling quite released from the Micro$oft shackles.  I don't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; these applications and life is a whole lot less complicated when you use the computer for what you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; to do rather than complicating life by trying to do all manner of things you don't really need to do but try any way because you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm enjoying Linux. It has it's ups and downs. But each challenge is overcome with a bit of ingenuity, the warm embrace off the Linux using community and sometimes the recognition that doing the easy way (if longer) way is a good thing. For example, I am typing this entry directly into blogger because I have not yet installed the plugin for Word. So blogger does not correct my spelling as I go along and does not auto correct my failure to put in capital letters, I can cope with being a more accurate typist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Windows makes you lazy and dependent - a metaphor for wider society. Linux has put me back in charge of the computer and not the other way round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114954298593252823?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114954298593252823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114954298593252823' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114954298593252823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114954298593252823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/06/75-on-continuing-linux-journey_05.html' title='#75 on the continuing Linux journey'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114911961431398553</id><published>2006-05-31T23:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:53:34.366Z</updated><title type='text'>#74 on missing deadlines</title><content type='html'>Current mood – hassled (I hate letting people down)&lt;br/&gt;Current music – ‘blue light’ by David Gilmour&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I had it al planned – how I was going to have all my greenbelt programme booked up in good time for the 31 May deadline.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And then the finding a new job stuff intervened and pushed it all back.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And then I put some time aside this week and that got taken over by other work stuff including the dentist – I’ve got to have a filling – bugger.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And then I still had time tonight until I remembered I had agreed to baby-sit for some friends.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So I got home at 11:45 to send off a ¾ complete programme topped up with apologies.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And tomorrow more stuff is happening including an option to appear like a father.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But I’ll find some time and O and S at the greenbelt office are way too forgiving plus they are on holiday and (please don’t take this as a lackadaisical attitude on my part) I’m sure it’ll turn out ok in the end. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I need to go to bed now if I’m to get behind all this in the morning.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This nearly 40 year old frame can’t sustain a late finish and an early start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114911961431398553?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114911961431398553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114911961431398553' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114911961431398553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114911961431398553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/74-on-missing-deadlines.html' title='#74 on missing deadlines'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114902912313085143</id><published>2006-05-30T21:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-30T23:38:27.406Z</updated><title type='text'>#73 on why we don't need Gates if there are no boundaries</title><content type='html'>Current mood:  extreme pleasure&lt;br /&gt;current mood: 'Flight of the Bumblebee' orig. Rimsykorsakov arr. Wynton Marsalis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of you who have been having good thoughts for me may I offer my thanks, for I am now the holder of a brand new position of work. In September I shall be Assistant Headteacher (Asshead for short) at Chalkhill Primary School in Wembley. I am over the moon about it all and just want you all to know (a) how happy I am to be starting there and (b) how happy I am to be leaving Marlborough. What started out as an exercise in 'keeping one's options box topped up' ended up becoming a realisation that however much I may have invested in an institution and however much loyalty I may have shown, there's not a lot of point in continuing to be treated like shit when there's other bosses out there who'll give you a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's also the 10k salary increase too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second bit of news with a liberation motif concerns my fast sagging computer. Difford and Tilbrook wrote, 'my assets froze, while yours have dropped' and I think that pretty much sums up my PC. If I was this age in the 70's I'd have probably had my head under the bonnet of my Ford Cortina every weekend but for me it's the bonnet of my PC. But the truth is I'm too old and too grumpy to care that much anymore and what was once (though I say so myself) a damn good set up is now slowly falling into dishevellment and disrepair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First my hard drive packed up. Not a big deal in itself the only thing not backed up was the tonnes of music from Napster that I couldn't burn to disc or play unless I resubscribed to Napster or wait for the hack to arrive that would let me burn it. 160 gigs down the pan. Bugger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Microsoft had the brainwave to tell me that my copy of Windows might not be genuiine.  Nice one Bill - like you are.  So now I have to wait 5 seconds to start Windows and endure constant messages about how I can pay £95 to make the piece of shit aka Windows XP work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a change methinks. Now I have been thinking about a laptop lately. A sort of 'well done on fooling another head teacher into employing you' present to myself and the new Macbook Pro looks very inviting. But I still need a machine at home for the kids and A to hammer so some creative thinking was required. And then it hit me! Duh! After all these years of avoiding the brown rice and sandals of the OS worldIi suddenly brought Linux to mind. It's free (well mostly) andIi might be able to talk my remaining hard drive into becoming a dual boot system just to try it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today has been spent finding out that the good idea of converting my drives to dynamic drives was a bad idea, finding an old 10gig bad boy in the attic that had some stuff onI'dd thought I'd lost to repartition, coming across Xandros which I installed before typing this very blog entry happilyy enveloped in the warm embrace of an Operating System that is neither Micro$oft nor paid for. Smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still working what it can do (most things) and what it can't (some things). I'm going to have to revert to an older version of Office and then pay for the right to modify those MSdocumentss in OpenOffice.Org but the cost is bundled up in upgrading the version of Xandros to include DVD burning and some other bits and bobs including, wait for it, anti virus software! I mean who the hell would want to clobber me and the other half a dozen Linux users in the world. But I'm not complaining. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the trojans and shit that are flying around a the moment are very discriminating about the OS they attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to my new job, my new OS and my new improved outlook on life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114902912313085143?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114902912313085143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114902912313085143' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114902912313085143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114902912313085143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/73-on-why-we-dont-need-gates-if-there.html' title='#73 on why we don&apos;t need Gates if there are no boundaries'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114825402340209540</id><published>2006-05-21T23:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-21T23:27:03.426Z</updated><title type='text'>#72 on late nights, triathlons and powerpoint</title><content type='html'>Current mood – tired but well satisfied&lt;br /&gt;Current music – ‘Red Sky at Night’ by David Gilmour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I did it.  I completed the Hatch End Triathlon in 1 hour 27 minutes this morning and I am very chuffed.  With reference to a previous post, no I did not employ the service of St John’s Ambulance and yes I also came in well inside my target time of 90 minutes.  So well done me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiff as a board obviously.  Supremely knackered.  But satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;could have prepared better by not getting to bed at 2:15 am but we got home rather late after A's final installment of her 40th birthday celebrations.  it was great seeing her getting more and more pissed as her father and step-mum plied us and some of A's friends all with wonderful food and wonderful drink.  i unfortunatley because of taxi dutoies and impending triathlon could not partake o the alcohol but nevertheless had a smashing eveing in the company of some smashing people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening i've been working on a couple of presentations for the interviews coming up this week.  I personally find PowerPoint presentations extremely annoying because they distract the listener away from the speaker by silly animations.  So I have tried not to fall into that trap myself and have kept it all rather simple and consistent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won’t deny I’m nervous about the interviews .  But it’s an excited kind of nervous – the type you get when you know it’s achievable with a bit of hard work and commitment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do spare a good thought if you happen to have any spare this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114825402340209540?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114825402340209540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114825402340209540' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114825402340209540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114825402340209540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/72-on-late-nights-triathlons-and.html' title='#72 on late nights, triathlons and powerpoint'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114808101564214432</id><published>2006-05-19T23:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-19T23:23:35.643Z</updated><title type='text'>#71 on being careful what you wish for</title><content type='html'>Current mood – daunted but pleased to be so&lt;br/&gt;Current music - Die Zauberflöte: Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;As the Queen of the Night tells us (albeit on a top f) that the vengeance of hell is in her heart, bless her heart I proudly blog tonight of being granted a couple of interviews.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Truth is I don’t really want to leave my current place of work and if these events help to focus my boss’s mind on retaining my services I will not accept (assuming I’m offered) a new position but I think that she may have painted herself into a corner and I may have succeeded in more than just keeping my options box topped up I may have actually forced myself to think that I can do better and desrve better than the constant stream of shit that I have been shovelling for too long now.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So we’ll see.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Problem is the mind shift and time commitment to search for a new job and then apply and then prepare or an interview is immense.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Other commitments such as organising the funny bits for a festival and giving a church a sense of vision and direction are not getting the time and head space they deserve so I for one will be very happy when the events of next week are over – whatever the outcome.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So be careful what you wish for… you might just get it.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114808101564214432?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114808101564214432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114808101564214432' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114808101564214432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114808101564214432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/71-on-being-careful-what-you-wish-for.html' title='#71 on being careful what you wish for'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114808096175792791</id><published>2006-05-19T23:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-19T23:22:41.816Z</updated><title type='text'>#70 on a gig by a man the man who wrote ‘grace and gratitude’ and, in so doing, changed my world</title><content type='html'>Current music:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Crazy by Seal&lt;br/&gt;Current Mood:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;very relaxed&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I went to see A sing at &lt;a href="http://www.recyclecollective.com/"&gt;The Recycle Collective&lt;/a&gt; just the other night.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Not only was I treated to some music that was truly exquisite, I also bumped into some friends connected with the &lt;a href="http://www.greenbelt.org.uk/"&gt;Greenbelt Festival&lt;/a&gt; and was able to sort a couple of bits out on that score.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;A and I are very keen to explore the medium of music that we were treated to the other night – looping, where layers of sound are laid down in turns and then mixed and painted onto a aural canvas that teases the mind into imagining which layer is which and what is being played for the first time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Eventually one’s brain gives up and lets go and allows the music to flow over and through and beyond and you are left feeling that you’ve been massaged by a whole symphony orchestra when in fact it was just the deft touch of a sublime bassist, opera singer and virtuoso violinist that were doing the damage all on their own.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So we are going to get our hands on some cheap looping kit and have a go ourselves.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’m keen on the work of Steve Reich and feel that the creative ideas sparked by his work could lead to some interesting collaborations.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Steve you drag me from suburban mediocrity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114808096175792791?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114808096175792791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114808096175792791' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114808096175792791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114808096175792791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/70-on-gig-by-man-man-who-wrote-grace.html' title='#70 on a gig by a man the man who wrote ‘grace and gratitude’ and, in so doing, changed my world'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114773266755152241</id><published>2006-05-15T22:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-15T22:37:47.600Z</updated><title type='text'>#69 on training for a triathlon</title><content type='html'>Current mood – upbeat (1 application form down 3 to go)&lt;br/&gt;Current music – ‘And She Was’ by Talking Heads&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;What was I thinking?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Was it one of those desperate moments when I needed to prove my masculinity?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Had I been hypnotised or duped into thinking I really am some iron man trapped in this overweight body that’s in love with food in any guise?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Well whatever but I’m pretty excited (if a little knackered from the training) to have entered the Hatch End Triathlon 2006.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Suburban mediocrity in a single event.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Roll up, roll up, roll up.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;400m swim, 17k cycle, 3k run – consecutively not all at the same time you understand.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The swim is my weakest event.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I seem to thrash the water to foam and succeed in moving backwards slowly.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The cycle is my best event and can probably knock out the 17k in about 35 minutes.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The run should be ok as long as I don’t go completely bananas on the bike and leave myself with nothing in the tank for the run.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;My aim is firstly to finish without employing the services of St Johns Ambulance.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My second aim is to do it all in less than 90 minutes.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My third aim is to not look like a tit trying to prove he’s not 38.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I’ve been training hard – at the gym by 6:30 and out in the evening too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s getting me fitter and lighter too (I’m 2 stone lighter than I used to be) and what with a tai chi work out to settle everything down I feel quite clear in the head too.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The only problem with it is timing. (Is there ever a good time?)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’m currently applying for 4 jobs and the dead lines for the forms start hitting this week.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Plus I’ve got a church leadership team meeting on Wednesday night (so I’ll miss the football – bugger) and I’m going to see Andrea sing and Steve caress at the &lt;a href="http://www.recyclecollective.com/"&gt;Recycle Collective&lt;/a&gt; on Thursday and then, double bugger, it’s Andrea’s birthday dinner party on Saturday night, the night before the bloody race so no alcohol for me.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The sacrifices an elite athlete has to make.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114773266755152241?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114773266755152241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114773266755152241' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114773266755152241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114773266755152241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/69-on-training-for-triathlon.html' title='#69 on training for a triathlon'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114764162531195939</id><published>2006-05-14T21:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-14T21:20:25.356Z</updated><title type='text'>#68 on how hopeless I am at keeping in touch</title><content type='html'>Current Mood – nervous (thinking about an awkward conversation I’m going to have with my boss tomorrow)&lt;br/&gt;Current Music – Angel by The Eurythmics (beautiful song with sublime bass line)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Didn’t blog last night because I was pissed.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As a fart.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Source of inebriation was a stag night for an old friend with whom I have managed only sporadic contact in the years since the heady days of Friday night Youth group meetings.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Also assembled was the gang from all those years ago.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Friends to whom I have barely spoken in the past few years, friends that I once held dear, friends who deserved better.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;But we were all in the same boat and with a collective muttering of ‘bloody hell’ under our breaths we all putthe guilt of wasted years behind us and got into some serious catching up.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We swapped children’s names and photos of them on our mobile phones.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We swapped stories of house prices and percentage increases (viewers of grumpy old men last Friday will know exactly what I mean).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We swapped realisations of impending and actual mid-life crises and we swapped email addresses with firm commitments to keep in touch.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I think I will keep these commitments.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Maybe that’s my admission of my mid-life crisis.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;At least I know now that I am not unusual in turning out to be suburban and mediocre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114764162531195939?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114764162531195939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114764162531195939' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114764162531195939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114764162531195939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/68-on-how-hopeless-i-am-at-keeping-in.html' title='#68 on how hopeless I am at keeping in touch'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114747401535715651</id><published>2006-05-12T22:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-12T22:46:55.443Z</updated><title type='text'>#67 on getting frigged about by the NHS</title><content type='html'>Current mood – relaxed if a little tired&lt;br/&gt;Current music – overture from the marriage of Figaro by Mozart&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Having just watched ‘Grumpy Old Men’ I should be saying how rotten our health service is and indeed… I shall.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger it I was going to justify a line of ‘how lucky we are’ but I’m too knackered and frankly too cross to make an attempt at balance.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Spare a good thought for my mate K.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;9 years old, took a tumble from a climbing frame, landed on his arm, snap.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So serious is the fracture they’re going to have to pin it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Must have hurt to buggery.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You’d think he’d be seen quick.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;How long, do you reckon?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;36 hours.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If it wasn’t for the fact that his mum works for the health service and knew the premed procedures she’d have to have cuddled him through the night in the A&amp;E waiting room; as it was she took him home for the night.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;He’s a good kid with a cheeky grin.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No one deserves this.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So spare a thought.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Worse still for K.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s his left arm and he’s right handed.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So no getting out of school work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114747401535715651?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114747401535715651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114747401535715651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114747401535715651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114747401535715651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/67-on-getting-frigged-about-by-nhs.html' title='#67 on getting frigged about by the NHS'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114738415766807470</id><published>2006-05-11T21:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-11T21:49:17.746Z</updated><title type='text'>#66 on nightmare deterrents</title><content type='html'>Current mood – coming down (just listened to Brentford get 1-1 draw in play-offs)&lt;br/&gt;Current music – ‘Blackbird’ by Sarah Mclachan from the soundtrack ‘I am Sam’&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;N has been going to bed with his socks on lately.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is the standard Romanian technique for ridding children of nightmares.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;According to B, a native of Romania, it’s impossible to have bad dreams if you are wearing socks.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;N went for it and we’ve not had a middle of the night visit for over week now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve started pulling them off when I kiss him goodnight – when he told me that he’d found them in the bed I told him that good dreams cause your socks to come off.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He went for that too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;There’s such beauty in that kind of gullibility.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;(By the way, is it me or is pulling off socks one of the most satisfying feelings going, not the sticky tug of war or the squash of the fold over method but the smooth swish of the toe end yank.)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Last night, N hurt his finger and cried for a plaster and I thought we would be in for a night of bad dreams – it’s the standard precursor.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So I reached for strategy number one – the brush off – I told him it was nothing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Then he said his ears hurt and that he was falling apart and the sobs and the tears.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He really meant it.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Choosing strategy number two I scooped him into my arms and told him that it was all going to be fine and that I’d never let anything happen to him (oh if only I could really make that promise) and then it came, the silver bullet, straight to the heart…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Daddy I don’t want to die.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Can you remember the first time you considered your own mortality?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;No wonder he wept.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;No wonder I wept.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;[subtext translator on]&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Daddy I didn’t want you to die.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;Daddy I wanted you to make me extravagant promises you couldn’t possibly keep.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;[subtext translator off]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114738415766807470?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114738415766807470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114738415766807470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114738415766807470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114738415766807470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/66-on-nightmare-deterrents.html' title='#66 on nightmare deterrents'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114721316684184850</id><published>2006-05-09T22:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-09T22:19:26.846Z</updated><title type='text'>#65 on owning up to not being able to do something</title><content type='html'>Current mood:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;relief (at being back)&lt;br/&gt;Current music:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;none (I can’t type what I’m about to type with any distractions)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I find myself creeping back to this online outpouring of inner digestion following the death of my father.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;You, my dear reader, are now sitting comfortably reading this and have no idea how long that previous sentence took to type.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I could baffle you with supercilious and condescending psychobabble about how I’m coping but the truth is I’m finding it hard – not hard to cope, God knows (literally) that I’ve been coping for years, no finding it hard to have any kind of emotional literacy with which to articulate the cloying emptiness that has filled my quiet moments and the dull hollow clang that sounds when I tap my heart.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I needed to take some time out – blogging about my Dad has been impossible and blogging about anything else would have seemed crass.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The fact is I don’t know how to grieve.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Now if that isn’t suburban mediocrity I truly don’t know what is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114721316684184850?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114721316684184850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114721316684184850' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114721316684184850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114721316684184850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/05/65-on-owning-up-to-not-being-able-to.html' title='#65 on owning up to not being able to do something'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114358134994762129</id><published>2006-03-28T21:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-28T21:33:22.013Z</updated><title type='text'>#64 on the innocence of youth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood - pissed off (I’ve never been more pissed off) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music – Vertigo by U2 (very very loud)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I overheard a classic conversation between some 12 year old pupils today…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;have you got it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Have you got it?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;[I fail to catch what was muttered.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I become involved.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me (to 2)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, have you got it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I dunno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me (to 1)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What has he got?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mayfair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mayfair? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Time out here.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’m thinking porno.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Yes I was 12 once I and know what has currency in school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oh Mayfair.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mayfair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mayfair.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s at McDonalds.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You know, Monopoly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No, but it doesn’t matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;3&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I thought he was talking about cigarettes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I told my pal and we pissed ourselves laughing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Given the shit that landed on me soon after I’m glad it happened otherwise this blog entry would have been about other people saying things that I might have later regretted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114358134994762129?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114358134994762129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114358134994762129' title='38 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114358134994762129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114358134994762129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/64-on-innocence-of-youth.html' title='#64 on the innocence of youth'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>38</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114340891271962935</id><published>2006-03-26T21:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-26T21:48:13.946Z</updated><title type='text'>#63 on the half full/half empty cliché</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music: Albinoni’s adagio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood: up for it (work for work complete)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Yes I’m back for those who noticed (which cuts out most of the world’s population) and those who care (which cuts out most of them) from a particularly intense period of life in which I’ve pinned my colours to the mast of my school and applied for the position of Deputy Head Teacher.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Hopefully I’ll get an interview and I’ll keep you posted on how it all goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;At church today my good friend confided in me his lack of confidence in his sermon and I said that it would speak to someone’s heart.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Who could of known it would have been me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The gist of it was (remember it’s mothering Sunday) that we only develop the vocabulary for describing how well our parents tried to parent us later on in life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s actually easier to recall times when our parents were pretty crap at it and not recognise the love they show(ed) for us in the mundane day to day existence.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Heaven knows I can think of reasons to recall when my parents (my dad in particular) was unbelievably crap at it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I could make a list of the holes in my experience when he simply should have been there and could embark upon some deep psychological treatise on why that was and how it has so deeply affected me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I could, honestly I could and indeed (usually to myself) I have, but hey, and this is the point of the sermon for me, fuck it, there were other times when he was doing his best and I just never realised.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He probably was bored and a bit shit at fatherhood by the time I came along but I turned out alright and my kids will do ok by me too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;He’s dying of cancer now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ll not see him again.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I want to make some sort of peace with him but the problem is I think he is at peace with himself, selfish cunt, and so I’ll just have to say that my glass is not half full, nor is it half empty; there is no glass, just a man who did his best and son who is doing his best too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114340891271962935?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114340891271962935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114340891271962935' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114340891271962935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114340891271962935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/63-on-half-fullhalf-empty-clich.html' title='#63 on the half full/half empty cliché'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114237634367029285</id><published>2006-03-14T22:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-14T22:51:17.826Z</updated><title type='text'>#62 on failing to use new words in conversation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;current mood - overwhelmed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;current music - 'Toxygene' by The Orb (that's internet radio for you)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well my use of ‘manse’ was forgotten today in the rush that is the crazy world of Year 7.  We learned to paint with powder paints (a skill that I correctly guessed had not been taught adequately to this bunch of impatient end-gainers who have no time for laying down layers of paint when felt tips or poster paint straight out of the (expensive) bottle and slapped on to the paper will do for me thank you very much).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So please allow me to make amends by telling you that my dwelling could not possibly be described as a ‘manse’.  Nor a hovel.  Somewhere in between I suppose.  Let’s call it 'home' for the sake of argument, complete with children, rooms in need of decoration and paperwork in piles large enough to call furniture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tomorrow I shall try with my new word of the day – ‘uxorius’.  No you’ll just have to look it up for yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114237634367029285?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114237634367029285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114237634367029285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114237634367029285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114237634367029285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/62-on-failing-to-use-new-words-in.html' title='#62 on failing to use new words in conversation'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114228888617553034</id><published>2006-03-13T22:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-13T22:37:10.270Z</updated><title type='text'>#61 on using new words in conversation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’ve decided to widen my vocabulary.  So each day I shall try to introduce a new word in conversation.  Dictionary.com a going to send me a word a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tomorrow I shall try to say the word ‘manse’ in the correct context.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I may even include these new words in my blog.  In fact I shall and you can try and guess which word it was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Reminds me of a drinking game – each player has a bottle of scotch to drink.  Then one player leaves the room and the others have to guess who it was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114228888617553034?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114228888617553034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114228888617553034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114228888617553034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114228888617553034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/61-on-using-new-words-in-conversation.html' title='#61 on using new words in conversation'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114228801772915964</id><published>2006-03-13T22:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-13T22:36:43.253Z</updated><title type='text'>#60 on filling out application forms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music: ‘Iris’ by Goo Goo Dolls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current Mood: daunted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The process for filling out an application form is immense.  I can’t go into specifics about the job itself suffice it to say that I’m looking at a couple of hours each evening this week just to get the bastard typed.  My supporting statement is looking like it will run into 1000+ words and I’ll need to design a CV from scratch.  But some friends have each agreed to take a look at it this weekend and constructively criticise it.  And there’s nothing like a deadline to motivate me!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;All in a week when I’ve loads of Greenbelt stuff to sort and a house that needs to be see a hoover and duster raised against it in anger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So there’s a little bit of excitement in there as well.  I’ve gone through the ‘there’s no point in applying’ frame of mind and am now in the ‘I’m gonna make my application and interview performance good they’ll have no choice but to appoint me’ place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’ll keep you posted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114228801772915964?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114228801772915964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114228801772915964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114228801772915964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114228801772915964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/60-on-filling-out-application-forms.html' title='#60 on filling out application forms'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114220137741426852</id><published>2006-03-12T22:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-12T22:13:37.750Z</updated><title type='text'>#59 on the use of technology in church services</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;current music - 'in constant sorrow' by the soggy bottom boys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;current mood - cross (with self) because didn't get done all i'd planned and will have to get up early tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Led worship at church today.  Enjoyed the preparation and the delivery much more than preparing and delivering a sermon a couple of weeks ago.  Hooked up with some resources from the Wild Goose Resource Group, rewrote some of the liturgy and made the whole service about the communion meal rather than letting the communion become a bolt-on at the end of the service.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The PA system didn’t work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The laptop and projector worked just in the nick of time.  By the way I think Songpro is a piece of shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The music for the band arrived just in the nick of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But the service went well nevertheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It made me wonder…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;How on earth did the early church we so idolise and want to emulate (a futile mind set in my opinion by the way) ever survive without an overhead projector?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114220137741426852?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114220137741426852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114220137741426852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114220137741426852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114220137741426852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/59-on-use-of-technology-in-church.html' title='#59 on the use of technology in church services'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114185683072616045</id><published>2006-03-08T22:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-08T22:27:12.813Z</updated><title type='text'>#58 on the great year seven project</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Work is fun at the moment.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Part of the great Year Seven project is to free up time to release teaching time for more topic based cross curricular stuff.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So at the moment the children are gathering stories for a school news magazine and plans are being drawn up for the children to present their work from the French Trip as a web site.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It’s really god fun seeing the children get into these activities and their improved behaviour (by and large) is a worthwhile trade off.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ll keep you posted as the results come through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114185683072616045?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114185683072616045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114185683072616045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114185683072616045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114185683072616045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/58-on-great-year-seven-project.html' title='#58 on the great year seven project'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114177307966150817</id><published>2006-03-07T23:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-08T17:33:24.493Z</updated><title type='text'>#57 On having an electronic diary...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My latest train of thoughts and ideas has taken me from getting a new phone that incorporates a PDA as well so that I can ditch my diary and notebook, to running outlook on the PC at home and at work so that I could synchronise what’s going on with them and now I am mucking about with customisable desktops that raid bits of outlook and stick them in the corner of the desktop for me to keep an eye on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’ve tried a few programs tonight, DesktopX being my favourite so far.  I’m told by people in the know that Windows Vista, if and when it ever arrives, will do all this automatically but who knows when that will be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Kinda takes me back to the days when you’d get a floppy disk off of the front of a magazine and run a program that would animate all your icons in Windows 3.  Course it drained every last drop of memory out of your system and nearly drove it into the ground but then life itself was slower back then.  Come back 386, all is forgiven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;On a separate note, I finished ‘Dead Air’ last night.  Brilliant.  But with Iain Banks in the driving seat it’s what you’d expect.  Can’t say too much for fear of spoiling it for readers who come along to The Reading Circle, but for those who have read it I have to say that Ken Nott, the central character is so like me in thought and word but so not like me in deed.  Ken said what I think and believe so much it was uncanny but it did make for a great read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Good plot, great climax, satisfying ending.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114177307966150817?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114177307966150817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114177307966150817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114177307966150817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114177307966150817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/57-on-having-electronic-diary.html' title='#57 On having an electronic diary...'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114159946673235343</id><published>2006-03-05T22:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-05T22:59:32.780Z</updated><title type='text'>Diablo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/diablo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/200/diablo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;An attack of diarrhoea has left me feeling low and a bit sorry for myself today so I decided to take it all out on some skeletons, goblins and some nasty looking things that look a bit like the great big monster Muppet whose name escapes me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Yes, now and again (usually when one is too ill to do much else, a game of Diablo is required to cleanse one’s soul and remind oneself how good it feels to beat the brains out of baddies on the screen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Long live computer gaming. Problem is to play these games requires a long life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114159946673235343?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114159946673235343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114159946673235343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114159946673235343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114159946673235343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/diablo.html' title='Diablo'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114150978501269820</id><published>2006-03-04T22:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-04T22:15:01.253Z</updated><title type='text'>Through His Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Spent two and a half hours travelling from central London to Kew Gardens today as engineering works closed a section of the District Line that I wanted to travel on. But the journey by train, bus and foot was worth it (and the £10 entry price) to see the most wonderful collection of orchids. Their beauty was matched only by their fragility and I felt as though I wanted to hold my breath as I wandered around the exhibition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But my entry today, dear readers, is not about me but my beautiful, if not reckless, son S who ran up and down and in and out paying no heed to petty grown up rules at all. Rope barriers were to be swung on, dirt was to be grabbed, leaves were to be rubbed against a cheek. There was not a moment of vandalism or malicious intent but instead a careless abandon of any civil respect for stuffy, British behaviour. And as I charged around after him apologising to tourists as he slid down steps on his tummy, I wished that I could see the world through his eyes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114150978501269820?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114150978501269820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114150978501269820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114150978501269820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114150978501269820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/through-his-eyes.html' title='Through His Eyes'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114134104516800105</id><published>2006-03-02T23:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-02T23:10:45.953Z</updated><title type='text'>Two Hats</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current Mood:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;brain-dead – not stopped working since 7:30 this morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current Music:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;‘Use Me (live)’ - Bill Withers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Went to see N in his debut role, Mr Gumpy in the Reception Players hilarious production of Mr Gumpy’s Outing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I was so proud.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;A was so proud.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;N did so well.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But with his mother’s performer’s blood and my exhibitionist blood coursing through his veins it’s hardly surprising.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I also found myself mentally ticking boxes about his speaking and listening skills.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;That’s what comes from wearing my teacher hat and parent hat at the same time I suppose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;‘Dead Air’ has been started and I’m quite enjoying it so far.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s quite an easy going first person narrative tale.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The cover and blurb made me feel that it would be more aloof but not so at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;In fact I am now going to go to bed and read some more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114134104516800105?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114134104516800105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114134104516800105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114134104516800105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114134104516800105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/two-hats.html' title='Two Hats'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114125392828017598</id><published>2006-03-01T22:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-01T23:14:54.556Z</updated><title type='text'>When Intelligent People Gather to Discuss Intelligent Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/53%20When%20Intelligent%20People%20Gather%20to%20Discuss%20Intelligent%20Books%202.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/320/53%20When%20Intelligent%20People%20Gather%20to%20Discuss%20Intelligent%20Books%202.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/53%20When%20Intelligent%20People%20Gather%20to%20Discuss%20Intelligent%20Books.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px" height="180" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/320/53%20When%20Intelligent%20People%20Gather%20to%20Discuss%20Intelligent%20Books.0.jpg" width="142" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music: ‘On the Hunt’ – Lynard Skynard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood: self satisfied (just done a super poo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Another great ‘Reading Circle’ tonight. Readers of previous posts will know that I only managed to get my hands on to the book (‘The Time-Traveler’s wife) a few days ago so I had not read very much of it at all. But that did not spoil my enjoyment of the excellent discussion that went down tonight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Next month is film night allowing us two months to read ‘Dead Air’ by Iain Banks. Looks pretty meaty but I quite fancy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh no, that looks and sounds like a food reference. Bugger.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114125392828017598?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114125392828017598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114125392828017598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114125392828017598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114125392828017598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/03/when-intelligent-people-gather-to.html' title='When Intelligent People Gather to Discuss Intelligent Books'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114116843398299796</id><published>2006-02-28T23:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-28T23:15:11.083Z</updated><title type='text'>Situation Vacant</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/51%20Situation%20Vacant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 137px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" height="160" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/320/51%20Situation%20Vacant.jpg" width="146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music: ‘Between the Wars’ – Billy Bragg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood: tired and hungry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Interesting experience tonight, short-listing applications for the post of leader of our church, after Jesus, that is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I was brought up in a church tradition where leaders were not chosen by the membership; in fact we had no say at all in whom we had appointed to lead us and they had no choice in where they were sent. So it has been an eye opening experience wading through application forms deciding who is a yes, a no or a maybe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I can’t say much more because the process is entirely confidential and whilst it is fair to say that it is not a small world we live in, it is a small church we worship in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Never felt so much like I was on an edition of ‘Blind Date’ as I did tonight.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114116843398299796?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114116843398299796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114116843398299796' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114116843398299796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114116843398299796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/situation-vacant.html' title='Situation Vacant'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114108133848518249</id><published>2006-02-27T23:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T23:03:38.143Z</updated><title type='text'>My son (wot I love)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5483/2363/1600/december%202002%20023.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" height="196" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5483/2363/320/december%202002%20023.0.jpg" width="258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Current music: ‘Someone to hi to’ by Sarah Bettens&lt;br /&gt;Current mood: Contented&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned yesterday that N has started to type on his own little laptop and it occurred to me that he should keep his own blog. It will be a great investment in recording his life through his own eyes as he grows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he (and his brother) were dedicated we bought an amphora for each of them and asked family and friends to post notes inside for them to read upon their coming of age. This is N’s chance to return the favour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a blog has been created and link on this site added. Sorry Liz and Steve and Danny, your links have got knocked orf and I don’t know why but I’ll put them back soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114108133848518249?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114108133848518249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114108133848518249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114108133848518249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114108133848518249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-son-wot-i-love.html' title='My son (wot I love)'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114097731193401117</id><published>2006-02-26T18:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-26T18:10:22.590Z</updated><title type='text'>Napster, Laptops and the orgasm of Camden Market</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current music: Mozart Piano Concerto No. 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Current mood: mellow – it’s Sunday afternoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Just coming to the end of a crazyade bonkers month of unlimited downloading from Napster due to a free month courtesy of The Independent.  Now I remember why we take the papers!  I’m not sure if my ISP is best pleased about the goings on with the bandwidth but it’s all coming to a close now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’ve been pretty disappointed with Napster it has to be said.  They were pretty good for the bulk record collection that has largely eluded me although of course I cannot listen to it anywhere apart from this computer.  But as I have come across new names either on last.fm or as entries on other people’s blogs the results from Napster have been scarce to the point of non-existence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Never mind.  It’s better than nothing.  And who knows, maybe one day the solution will be found to allow me to do more with what I found.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Now I could do with some advice.  Conversation turned today at our church lunch to the whole laptop versus desktop and apple versus windows debate.  My friend pointed out that since he installed a wireless point in his house and sorted his kids out with laptops they are now to be found in the living room and taking a slightly more active role in their family life.  I cannot deny that I spend much of life in front of this enormous desktop system and wonder if it’s really quite worth it.  It needs a bit of an upgrade and I wonder if now is the time to flog it to my mum who has been on about getting a computer for yonks and using the money on a laptop.  And if do, should I get a Mac or PC.  Thinking to do.  Advice required please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;As for me and my household…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Talking of Apple laptops, N is currently playing with his new Apple laptop.  Work were chucking out a load of redundant hardware including a couple of Apple Emate 300 machines.  Any geeks among the readership, apple geeks at that, may know that the Emate 300 was Apple’s first foray (in partnership with Newton) into the world of laptops.  Anyway these machines are now consigned to the league of PDA and are only good for basic word processing and drawing plus a few other applications downloadable from geek websites but it is perfect for young N.  It also includes a stylus for drawing on the screen so he can do little drawings as well.  Even as I type I can hear him tapping out ‘I want to be a rabbit in Mr Gumpy’s outing.’  It’s a reference, by the way to his school assembly on Thursday (in which he is already a rabbit) not some bizarre cloak and dagger plot to expose one of his teacher’s sexual preference.  His own blog.  Bless.  So result there.  The battery is shot but Ebay should be able to fix that one hopes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;S is watching Toy Story 2 in the other room.  Always having been one to enjoy his own company, he is quite happily re-enacting the movie next door using his Woody and Buzz dolls to act it out.  It’s really charming to see him at work.  He is even mouthing along to some of the words which is very encouraging too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;A is in the kitchen cooking something which smells quite divine.  Some of you will know that I am dieting once again as the previous effort only revealed that I am seriously overweight and need to sort it out before my health takes a nose dive, plus as I said in a previous post, whilst I don’t care that much about how I look or what size I am, I do care greatly about being fit and healthy for my children.  So I shall not be tasting the wonderful smelling food, which is a bummer I do not deny it but is all in a good cause.  For those who care I have just got my BMI down to under 30 and my target is 23.  I’ll keep you posted on that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;B has just got home from a night spent at her sister’s place.  She has been to Camden Market today and cannot tell me any more about her experience without her eyes going all flickery and her saying, ‘oh my God’ repeatedly.  I’m going to take that as a positive sign.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And I am in front of my computer typing this post.  The blogger plug-in for Word is an absolute godsend.  Soon I shall begin typing my plans for school and then I shall retire early with ‘the time traveler’s wife’ which needs to be finished for Wednesday night when The Reading Circle comes around again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114097731193401117?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114097731193401117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114097731193401117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114097731193401117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114097731193401117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/napster-laptops-and-orgasm-of-camden.html' title='Napster, Laptops and the orgasm of Camden Market'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114090563047891852</id><published>2006-02-25T22:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T22:37:52.516Z</updated><title type='text'>Brown Stains</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/49%20Brown%20Stains.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" height="117" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/200/49%20Brown%20Stains.jpg" width="193" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Now it needs to be said, up front, that our house is in a pretty good state of repair and décor apart from the lack of flooring in kitchen, loo and laundry and general state of bathroom. The flooring will be sorted hopefully after I’ve had another confrontation with Magnet. (One day I’ll blog the whole saga of our kitchen, suffice it to say, for now, that no one, absolutely no one, not even people who work for Magnet, not even their shareholders, not even people who are masochists, not even people who have been brainwashed by the ‘Magnet are Good’ religious sect should ever be so stupid as to think about selling you a kitchen let olone darkening their door.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the bathroom. It’s a bit of a shit hole, it has to be said. We chose not to have it renovated when the rest of the building work was done because we didn’t know if one day we would get a loft conversion; a fact that is still true today. It turns out that logic was mistaken. You see having been forced into doing a bit of investigative archaeology it turns out that the original tiling work was the usual 2 foot’s worth around the edge of the bath and that the rest (for those who don’t know our bathroom the whole room is covered in horrible white tiles) was done later. It would seen the original work was of a reasonable quality. It would also seem that the rest was put up by a person who cannot tile using flour and water as adhesive and grout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The investigation was prompted by the fact that dirty great brown patches are appearing on our hall ceiling and they are spreading. So this afternoon A and I undertook an intricate scientific experiment. Our hypothesis – water from the shower was getting behind the tiles and soaking the floor under the bath. Method – I took off the board along the edge of the bath (watching carefully for spiders) and peered at the wall while A squirted water from the shower at the wall. Observations – water pissed all over the floor under the bath. Our conclusion – water from the shower was getting behind the tiles and soaking the floor under the bath. Bugger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I quickly nip to Homebase to pick up some grout and tools and some spare tiles rushing back in time for the rugby (great match, crap score) and then proceed to scrape what’s left of the grout away. Finding a tile that was held up by, well frankly nothing more than the power of prayer, I pull it away to see the plaster behind it absolutely soaking, having the consistency of damp sand than of hardened plaster. Bugger. A couple of other tiles shortly follow to reveal that, where the plaster is dry, it’s in an ok state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what to do? An insurance claim could be filed, FFS that’s what we pay £40 a month for but what should we do if they cough up? New bathroom in a place that will probably become the stairway to a new loft? New set of tiles around the shower zone? I dunno it’s all a bit too recent to have thought it through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for now we have decided to let the whole thing dry out and ban showers and exuberant bath play (by the kids). But I need some advice please. Is that a good plan or is the plaster shot and I’m just wasting my time hoping that drying out and then re-grouting is going to somehow work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comments on the back of a £50 note or by email please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114090563047891852?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114090563047891852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114090563047891852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114090563047891852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114090563047891852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/brown-stains.html' title='Brown Stains'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114082074366060215</id><published>2006-02-24T22:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-24T22:39:03.716Z</updated><title type='text'>The Best Laid Plans</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’d like to think I was a source of encouragement.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But today I was largely shite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Firstly my friend and colleague was umming and ahhing about going to the gym.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So I used all of my persuasive charm to talk her into going.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Which she did.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And then she texted me to say that after having arrived and undressed, she discovered she’d left her kit at home.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And then she texted me to say she’d gone home and gone out for a run and hurt her leg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Secondly, another friend and colleague who is dieting at the moment needed some encouragement to stop snacking on bad food.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Found out today she’d had 3 bags of crisps.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The logic being, well if I’m going to be bad and have one, I might as well have 3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And thirdly, I finally caught up with my old pal R tonight.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Long time no see.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Played snooker at a local snooker hall and talked all around why his marriage is not so good at the moment, but that’s what men do.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;By the way, R beat me 2 frames to 1.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I swear the balls are bigger than the pockets.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oo-er missus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;All joking aside, all three of these chums are good people who I’m happy to be acquainted with.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Long may these friendships last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114082074366060215?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114082074366060215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114082074366060215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114082074366060215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114082074366060215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/best-laid-plans.html' title='The Best Laid Plans'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114072599106108068</id><published>2006-02-23T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-23T21:45:29.160Z</updated><title type='text'>Beyond belief</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/samarra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/320/samarra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Whilst I thought that there was a dire and hysterical logic to the actions of Muslim extremists I find it incomprehensible that Sunni’s would stoop so low as to attack a Shia mosque.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Martyn Joseph sang, “do we really do these things to one another, do you see why now dolphins make me cry.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I lower my head in shame and sorrow when I hear of another roadside bomb or suicide bomber and more troops killed but this act has upset me far more deeply. It’s the hatred, the pure, unrefined violence; the sacrilege, the scorn of any sort of respect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I just don’t think I can take it anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But I will, I suppose. I’ll get up tomorrow and hear of more reprisals, more killing, more shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I dedicate this psalm to all Muslims that this might be their prayer tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I look to you, heaven-dwelling God, look up to you for help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Like servants, alert to their master's commands, like a maiden attending her lady,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;We're watching and waiting, holding our breath, awaiting your word of mercy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mercy, GOD, mercy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;We've been kicked around long enough,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Kicked in the teeth by complacent rich men, kicked when we're down by arrogant brutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114072599106108068?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114072599106108068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114072599106108068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114072599106108068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114072599106108068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/beyond-belief.html' title='Beyond belief'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114065177741733533</id><published>2006-02-22T23:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-22T23:42:57.456Z</updated><title type='text'>Allez, allez, allez</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;One of the more enjoyable aspects of my job is leading the annual french trip to, er, France.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Each year we bung around 45 bright eyed 11 and 12 year olds on a coach and a ferry across Le Manche to enjoy the all the cultural delights that France has to offer.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And this year is no exception.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;We are going to stay in a youth hostel kind of accommodation in Poissy on the outskirts of Paris to allow us to get to the city centre and Versailles with the minimum of fuss.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s going to be great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And what’s more, the children have to set their own tables and do their own washing up!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;They’re not going to know what has hit them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So tonight it was my great honour to host a meeting of the 6 members of staff who are going to accompany these dear little children to France and back and not throttle them in the process.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We had a great meeting in which we planned the itinerary and discussed all the things we’ll need to pack in addition to 43 children and our own luggage.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Top of the list was snacks for teachers which included chocolate hobnobs (my personal choice), all manner of M&amp;S snacks and (and this was my favourite addition) pickled onion monster munch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You can keep your French cuisine, us Brits know how to party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’m feeling really excited about the trip now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s not long until we go and as long as I have no more scares about the collective passport (the passport agency wrote a capital lettered request to call them – to sort out a date of birth) I’ll be in the starting blocks along with the rest of the staff team and pupils in April.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’m also getting quite excited about Greenbelt too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I Spent the rest of the evening (after the French trip meeting) sending off emails left, right and centre trying to organise a light entertainments programme and if (and boy that’s a big ‘if’) the programme comes off in the way that I’m planning, this year will turn out to be one hell of a shit kicker as far as light ents is concerned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So book now while tickets last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114065177741733533?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114065177741733533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114065177741733533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114065177741733533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114065177741733533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/allez-allez-allez.html' title='Allez, allez, allez'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114056083410035107</id><published>2006-02-21T22:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-21T22:27:14.143Z</updated><title type='text'>knackered</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Truth is I’m knackered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;To work early to get some paperwork done.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;At work all day then dash home to take No for swimming lesson.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;En route a discover a colleague standing rather forlornly by the broken down car.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So I drop N off at pool, drive back to assist colleague and then dart back to pool to collect N.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Then it’s a dash home to do some extra work before dashing off to church for a music group rehearsal.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Then home to blog and kip.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Phew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Suburban life ma be mediocre but it is sure as hell busy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114056083410035107?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114056083410035107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114056083410035107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114056083410035107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114056083410035107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/knackered.html' title='knackered'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114047704013137341</id><published>2006-02-20T23:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-20T23:10:40.186Z</updated><title type='text'>Siblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Phoned my big brother tonight for a chat.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You may recall from one of my first postings that my main reason for doing this exercise in introspection was to allow my middle brother into my head.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He’s been on wrong end of a very fuzzy lollipop but sounded pretty chipper tonight, though with the delay on the phone line to Melbourne it’s not always easy to have too deep or long conversation.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So to keep my half of a deal to stay in touch I decided to write this blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Communication does not come easily to my family.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We were brought up to keep the peace by shutting the fuck up – a strategy that was largely a monumental failure but this daily download of thoughts and experiences is helping me to tell him about my life and soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So if you’re reading this one, B, this smile is for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114047704013137341?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114047704013137341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114047704013137341' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114047704013137341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114047704013137341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/siblings.html' title='Siblings'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114038562659134515</id><published>2006-02-19T21:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-19T21:47:06.786Z</updated><title type='text'>mercy dash</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I did not get to blog last night for as I was about to sit down to begin the phone rang.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The hour was 11.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It was A.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Euston was at a standstill.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She was stuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Unfortunately B had gone out for the evening so I had to pack the boys up in dressing gowns and duvets and head for London Town to rescue her.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It reminded me of the early days of our marriage where I often travelled up to the Opera House to pick Andrea up, days before we could afford a second car.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But for the boys it was a great adventure.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Spent today at church and at home playing shops and other games with the boys.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Continued to soup up A’s new laptop with Norton anti-virus and other bits and bobs whilst trying to plan for school tomorrow.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I need a distraction from the thoughts of back to work so I shall sign off without further ado and indulge myself in a display of rippling biceps in a marvellous story by Philip K Dick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114038562659134515?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114038562659134515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114038562659134515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114038562659134515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114038562659134515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/mercy-dash.html' title='mercy dash'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114022167181821981</id><published>2006-02-18T00:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-18T00:14:33.810Z</updated><title type='text'>Dedicated Followers of Fashion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Went to the Natural History Museum with A, N and S today.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Great day out made great for me by the breathtaking architecture.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The museum itself was packed, lunch cost 20 quid and the kids were mainly interested in pushing, pulling and twisting the interactive exhibits rather than taking in anything of educational value.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But the investment in culture is of greater value.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;A grew up in a house with regular trips on the train to all the galleries and museums going whereas I grew up in a household where a visit to the pantomime on ice was the big day out.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is not to diss my folks, they did what they think was best in the same way that I do too, my point is that I and A want for our kids what she had and I didn’t.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway that’s not my main subject for tonight’s delectation although the theme of culture and the world in which we want our kids to grow up still figures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I was a bit pissed off when we were forced along Kensington High Street to get into the museum because the grassy area out front of the Natural History Museum had been cordoned off for London Fashion Week.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Huge temporary structures complete with air conditioning and hair dressers had been erected to house the hospitality suite for the big show.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As far as I could tell the main catwalks and studios were erected elsewhere.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This was one hell of a carnival with the performers were the wannabes and hangers on to the coat tales of the glitterazzi trying to look important whilst drinking champagne and eating tiger prawns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And as I passed by the burly security boys my rational mind set switched on and played messages of ‘this is a world you do not inhabit – do not judge’ and ‘this is an industry creating wealth and work for loads of people across the world’ and then I came to a stop.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is an industry were to be at the top is to influence how people should look, FFS.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is an industry that is so self referential and narrow minded that they’ll design the same clothes as last year and sell it to us as ‘retro’.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is an industry that fuels the exploitation of millions of workers so that we can all gorge ourselves at the feeding frenzy of wanting to look like a celebrity that we’ll never know beyond what the industry tells us.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’m so sick of it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I feel contaminated.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I don’t care how I look as long as I’m clean enough to not smell.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I don’t care how much I weigh so long as I can be fit enough to chase my boys around the park for a long time to come.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I have no jewellery save my wedding ring, no cosmetics save my tin of Right Guard, no clothes save those from the charity shop and a posh waking jacket for enjoying the beautiful but wet British countryside.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;There’s still so much more I could do but at least I’m trying.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Check out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.generous.org.uk/"&gt;The Year of Living Generously&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; for some ideas of what you could do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;How do I cope?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I keep a couple of photos of child labourers on the cupboard door next to my desk.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And when it gets all too much I stare into their dark, hollow eyes for a while and then it all seems to fade away, for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114022167181821981?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114022167181821981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114022167181821981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114022167181821981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114022167181821981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/dedicated-followers-of-fashion.html' title='Dedicated Followers of Fashion'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114013487784127889</id><published>2006-02-17T00:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-17T00:07:57.870Z</updated><title type='text'>pant pisser</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Having just blogged about some serious shit happening in the lives of some close friends it seemed churlish to blog this pant pisser of a sketch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Ah but hey, what the heck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;You’ll have to believe me that this came up entirely coincidently.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’d been trawling through some old papers and found a hard copy of this sketch given to me by my Religious Studies lecturer at university.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Anyway, I’ve had a root around on the old interweb and come up with an electronic version (which is a relief because my scanner would not have coped well with the old hard copy I’ve got) but unfortunately no author.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So I’m sorry I cannot give credit to the author but I have to say it wasn’t (more’s the pity) me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This just has got to be performed at Greenbelt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;“I have a philosophical secret!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The lowest-rated Jerry Springer show ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;CROWD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jer-ry!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jer-ry!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jer-ry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Today’s guests are here because they can’t agree on fundamental philosophical principles.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’d like to welcome Todd to the show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Todd enters from backstage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Hello, Todd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Hi, Jerry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(reading from card) So, Todd, you’re here to tell your girlfriend something.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, Jerry, my girlfriend Ursula and I have been going out for three years now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We did everything together.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We were really inseparable.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But then she discovered post-Marxist political and literary theory, and it’s been nothing but fighting ever since.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Why is that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You see, Jerry, I’m a traditional Cartesian rationalist.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I believe that the individual self, the “I” or ego is the foundation of all metaphysics.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She, on the other hand, believes that the contemporary self is a socially constructed, multi-faceted subjectivity reflecting the political and economic realities of late capitalist consumerist discourse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;CROWD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Ooooohhhh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I know!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I know!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Is that infantile, or what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So what do you want to tell her today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I want to tell her that unless she ditches the post-modernism, we’re through.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I just can’t go on having a relationship with a woman who doesn’t believe I exist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, you’re going to get your chance.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Here’s Ursula!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ursula storms onstage and charges up to Todd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Patriarchal colonizer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;She slaps him viciously.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Todd leaps up, but the security guys pull them apart before things can go any further.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Don’t listen to him!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Logic is a male hysteria!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Rationality equals oppression and the silencing of marginalized voices!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The classical methodology of rational dialectic is our only road to truth!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Don’t try to deny it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You and your dialectic!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That’s how it’s been through our whole relationship, Jerry.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mindless repetition of the post-Enlightenment meta-narrative.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;“You have to start with radical doubt, Ursula.” “Post-structuralism is just classical skeptical thought re-cast in the language of semiotics, Ursula.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;CROWD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Booo!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Booo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, Ursula, come on.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Don’t you agree that the roots of contemporary neo-Leftism simply have to be sought in Enlightenment political philosophy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;History is the discourse of powerful centrally located voices marginalizing and de-scribing the sub-altern!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;See what I have to put up with?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Do you know what it’s like living with someone who sees sex as a metaphoric demonstration of the anti-feminist violence implicit in the discourse of the dominant power structure?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s terrible.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She just lies there and thinks of Andrea Dworkin.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That’s why we never do it any more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;CROWD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wooooo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You liar!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Why don’t you tell them how you haven’t been able to get it up for the past three months because you couldn’t decide if your penis truly had essential Being, or was simply a manifestation of Mind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TODD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wait a minute!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wait a minute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s true!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, I don’t think we’re going to solve this one right away.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Our next guests are Louis and Tina.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And Tina has a little confession to make!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Louis and Tina come onstage.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Todd and Ursula continue bickering in the background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Tina, you are…&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(reads cards) …&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;an existentialist, is that right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That’s right, Jerry.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And Louis is, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And what did you want to tell Louis today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jerry, today I want to tell him…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Talk to Louis.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Talk to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Crowd hushes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Louis…&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve loved you for a long time…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I love you, too, Tina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Louis, you know I agree with you that existence precedes essence, but …well, I just want to tell you I’ve been reading Nietzsche lately, and I don’t think I can agree with your egalitarian politics any more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;CROWD:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wooooo!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Woooooo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(shocked and disbelieving) Tina, this is crazy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You know that Sartre clarified all this way back in the 40’s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But he didn’t take into account Nietzsche’s radical critique of democratic morality, Louis.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’m sorry.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I can’t ignore the contradiction any longer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You got these ideas from Victor, didn’t you?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Didn’t you!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Don’t you bring up Victor!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I only turned to him when I saw you were seeing that dominatrix!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I needed a real man!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;An Uber-man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(sobbing) I couldn’t help it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It was my burden of freedom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It was too much!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We’ve got someone here who might have something to add.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bring out…Victor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Victor enters.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He walks up to Louis and sticks a finger in his face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;VICTOR:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Louis, you’re a classic post-Christian intellectual.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Weak to the core!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(through tears) You can kiss my Marxist ass, Reactionary Boy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;VICTOR:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Herd animal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;LOUIS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Lackey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Louis throws a chair at Victor; they lock horns and wrestle.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The crowd goes wild.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;After a long struggle, the security guys pry them apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Okay, okay.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s time for questions from the audience.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Go ahead, sir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;AUDIENCE MEMBER:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Okay, this is for Tina.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Tina, I just wanna know how you can call yourself an existentialist, and still agree with Nietzsche’s doctrine of the Ubermensch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Doesn’t that imply a belief in intrinsic essences that is in direct contradiction with the fundamental principles of existentialism?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It doesn’t.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We can be equal in potential, without being equal in eventual personal quality.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s a question of Becoming, not Being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;AUDIENCE MEMBER:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That’s just disguised essentialism!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You’re no existentialist!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I am so!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;AUDIENCE MEMBER:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You’re no existentialist!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I am so an existentialist, bitch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ursula stands and interjects.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What does it [bleep] matter?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Existentialism is just a cover for late capitalist anti-feminism!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Look at how Sartre treated Simone de Beauvoir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Women in the crowd cheer and stomp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;[Bleep] you!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Fat-ass Foucaultian ho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You only wish you were smart enough to understand Foucault, bitch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You the bitch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;URSULA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No, you the bitch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;TINA:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Whatever!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Whatever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We’ll be right back with a final thought!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Stay with us!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Commercial break for debt-consolidation loans, ITT Technical Institute, and Psychic Alliance Hotline.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;JERRY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Hi!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Welcome back.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I just want to thank all our guests for being here, and say that I hope you’re able to work through your differences and find happiness, if indeed happiness can be extracted from the dismal miasma of warring primal hormonal impulses we call human relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(turns to the camera)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, we all think philosophy is just fun and games.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Semiotics, deconstruction, Lacanian post-Freudian psychoanalysis, it all seems like good, clean fun.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But when the heart gets involved, all our painfully acquired metaphysical insights go right out the window, and we’re reduced to battling it out like rutting chimpanzees.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s not pretty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;If you’re in a relationship, and differences over the fundamental principles of your respective subjectivities are making things difficult, maybe it’s time to move on.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Find someone new, someone who will accept you and the way your laughably limited human intelligence chooses to codify and rationalize the chaos of existence.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;After all, in the absence of a clear, unquestionable revelation from God, that’s all we’re all doing anyway.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So remember:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;take care of yourselves - and each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;ANNOUNCER:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Be sure to tune in next time, when KKK strippers battle it out with transvestite omnisexual porn stars!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Tomorrow on Springer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114013487784127889?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114013487784127889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114013487784127889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114013487784127889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114013487784127889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/pant-pisser.html' title='pant pisser'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-114013362825500997</id><published>2006-02-16T23:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-16T23:47:08.300Z</updated><title type='text'>Result</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Some old and very dear friends are having some relationship problems at the moment.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As their friends we have tried to be a source of support without prying or interfering.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But it was with a heavy heart that I saw one of my best friends slip further and further out of circulation in spite of (because of?) my best intentions to be an ear and a shoulder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well the news is that my phone messages have finally been answered and we are going out for a drink on Saturday night.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Result.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-114013362825500997?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/114013362825500997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=114013362825500997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114013362825500997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/114013362825500997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/result.html' title='Result'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113996201803979275</id><published>2006-02-15T00:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-15T00:18:25.096Z</updated><title type='text'>at the centre, we are children, we are welcome</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What a day.  Busy but fun.  The joys of half term and all that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Popped into work to pick up a few bits and pieces and see how the ICT work was going on.  Yeah I know, I’m not ICT coordinator any more.  You can take the ICT (and the pay) away from the boy but you cant…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Went to the library with N to drop off some (overdue) books.  Our local council were undertaking a market research project, ‘how shit is harrow’ I think it was called.  For those readers who would know what the Pulse is, this was like a bad display in the Pulse.  I take the piss, I know but they listened to my comments and seemed very interested in what all the locals had to say.  My main gripes were that the local park has gone to pot (and heroin) since the warden was done away with so the gates are not locked at sundown any more and the fact that plastic is not recycled.  We are pretty good and try to recycle as much as possible but I would say that 90% of what we chuck is plastic.  If the council recycled that we would have a practically empty green bin and a brown one that would need to be emptied twice a week (a problem I’d be happy to accept.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then off to the park for a spot of kite flying.  Some of you may know of my sad delusional love of designing, making, flying and crashing kites.  So with N and a few (well about 12 actually) kites we held pieces of string in a muddy park looking upward.  N put on the voice of Mr Dragon (a Malaysian delta) and commentated about how much he was enjoying flying in the sky rather than being scrunched up in the bag – a metaphor for life if ever I heard one.  I just swore at a box delta that I had spent hours making that refused to fly.  Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;B and S joined us for a session on the swings.  I have to say that B appeared to have more fun than the kids.  N saw an old pal from nursery, I saw her attractive mum so nice result there and S monopolised the slide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then home to forget that N had a swimming lesson only to be reminded by A via text message.  Arrived in the nick to see N continue to stagger me with his ability to swim.  I was 12ish when I learned but N is already swimming front, back on top and under and he’s only 5.  He looks a treat (and a bit camp truth be told) in his very faded Spiderman trunks.  The chlorine really gets to work on anything dipped in the water – eyes, flesh, hair, fingernails - pretty much anything organic is unsafe in that acid bath.  When I was a kid the water wasn’t half as bad as that as I recall.  In fact the outdoor pool didn’t seem to be treated at all.  It started the summer clear and shiny and went through phases of yellow, orange and then brown as each kid in the neighbourhood used it as a public urinal.  Oh, those were the days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Back home in time to put the children in B’s care so that I could leg it to Griffin Park for Brentford (5th place) to hammer Southend (1st place) 2-0.  ‘top of the league, top of the league, you’re having an laugh, you’re having a laugh.’  And what with Swansea and Colchester drawing at home it was a great evening that saw us jump up to third with two games in hand.  Charlton on Saturday in the Cup.  Come on you Bees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then home to break promise to self about the work I would do if I went to football but instead wrote blog.  Actually I was a bit delayed in getting going because A was communicating with the person on Ebay from whom we had bought S’s birthday present.  It seems the Post Office attempted to deliver the parcel to the wrong address and left a card instead which said bring some ID down to the office and we’ll give you the parcel.  So the bloke from down the road went to the office, didn’t show or showed the wrong ID (more likely the former) and took home a play microphone.  A has knocked on his door loads of times and got nowhere and has now decided to take it up with the Post Office because they gave a parcel marked for one address to a person with ID for another!  Believe me, this is not the kind of issue to get A involved in.  Once pissed off, she will not let it go until she feels that she has won, is seen to have won by everyone, especially the losers and that the losers are seen to be losers.  Lord have mercy upon their souls for she will grind them to fine dust all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And so to bed.  I am currently listening to ‘At the Centre’ by Lies Damned Lies.  Those of you who know the track, please try to feel as mellow as I am feeling just now.  For those of you unaware of the track please feel mellow anyway.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I’m glad I’ve just written all this.  It’s reminded me that I have had a busy day but a good one and that it’s finished as good as it started.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113996201803979275?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113996201803979275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113996201803979275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113996201803979275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113996201803979275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/at-centre-we-are-children-we-are.html' title='at the centre, we are children, we are welcome'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113987469215570684</id><published>2006-02-13T23:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-13T23:51:32.383Z</updated><title type='text'>TFI Half Term</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The sermon went well in my humble opinion.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My cold mixed with my nerves mixed with desire to come up with a more serious tone of voice meant that the whole thing was delivered quite deadpan but I’m happier with that that than if I’d clowned around with it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve seen too many wannabe stand up comedians try to string a theological argument whilst cracking bad jokes about communion wine and organists with bad breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It was good to get a call from my former minister, now retired.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He had heard on the grapevine of my efforts and rang to congratulate me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He is largely responsible for my knowledge of the Bible such was his mentoring through my teenage years and early years of my 20’s.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And tonight was a church leadership group meeting so it’s all very holy for me at the moment.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I won’t lie to you; there’s been times lately when I could have quite easily thrown in the church towel but I’m in quite a good place with it all at the moment.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I could list the numerous faults with hillside Community Church but what’s the point, we know we are on a journey and we are trying to pick out a way of getting there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Half term continues with a chance to clear up the classroom, call an electrician and take N to see ‘Chicken Little’.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Basically crap.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;A bit of a Chinese meal of a movie; alright at the time but ready for another half an hour later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tomorrow brings sorting the bathroom – seals around edge of bath given up leading to brown stains on hall ceiling (and my trousers) – possibly an insurance claim, greenbelt emails to write and a few other phone calls and bits and bobs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Pretty bushed now so I’ll catch up with you al tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113987469215570684?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113987469215570684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113987469215570684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113987469215570684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113987469215570684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/tfi-half-term.html' title='TFI Half Term'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113969225810045150</id><published>2006-02-11T21:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-11T21:10:58.186Z</updated><title type='text'>9 sleeps 'til school again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;How does one get to half term.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Stagger, crawl, limp.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Choose your cliché but I am absolutely knackered.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Still I’ve got a chance now to catch up on all those jobs I’ve been putting off at home and also (spot the donkey) catch up on all those jobs I’ve been putting off at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Who else in their right mind goes into work when they are on holiday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I reckon they should double teacher’s salary to a rate more commensurate with a profession such as mine and direct us to work a 37 week year, 45 hour week.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That way we’d all earn more, work less and not burn out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But then again, any politician with an education would think that’s a silly idea.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That’s the problem with political jokes – all too often they get elected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;On a different note, I’ve been asked to preach tomorrow.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wish me luck, have a good thought or say a prayer depending once again on your preferred cliché.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;‘Til then, my lovely readers, I will bid you good night with the promise of a post mortem on the sermon tomorrow and an update on how sad I am to work in my holidays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113969225810045150?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113969225810045150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113969225810045150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113969225810045150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113969225810045150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/9-sleeps-til-school-again.html' title='9 sleeps &apos;til school again!'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113952385723133215</id><published>2006-02-09T22:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-09T22:26:22.546Z</updated><title type='text'>A Spark in the Dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This blog has a very self deprecating title.  As it happens I really do enjoy living where I do especially when things go wrong like they did tonight…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The cooker did not exactly go bang, plink, or fizz but the lights were definitely not on and the chicken (organic and expensive) was not cooking.  Incidentally, is it a Romanian trick or do other people poke a half filled wine bottle up the arse of a chicken before standing it upright in the oven to cook it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So Goddard, full of masculine bravado and absolutely no idea what he was doing began to make repairs.  Now this is an ongoing saga the details of which I’ll certainly not bore you with or I will definitely deserve the banal and pointless tag on this blog, suffice it to say that the wall socket needed to be replaced after it melted the last fuse placed in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So off I toodle to Homebase and come back with a new socket and one of those posh screwdrivers that will light up if you touch a live wire or something I dunno.  I switch off the correct circuit on the fuse board and begin, gingerly at first, to change the socket.  Once I’ve convinced myself that the wires are not live I begin to work with more confidence until suddenly, POW, the whole house is plunged into darkness, N &amp; S extremely upset as they were just getting to the good part in Monsters Inc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So I retrace my steps and work out where I went wrong only to do it again.  Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Never mind I thought.  Shame about the chicken but we can live without an oven until tomorrow when we’ll call in a sparks who’ll know more than me about domestic electricity circuits, (though quite frankly knowing more than Goddard about electric circuits is hardly grounds for calling oneself an electrician.  On that basis they could set themselves up as a horse whisperer, assassin or any other profession going apart from teacher perhaps).  But then we find that the fridge and freezer have blown as well and we are really screwed.  Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;A gets home and hits the crisis button and we are on the phone to neighbours asking if they have any freezer space handy.  And that’s when my neighbourhood shook itself down, took a deep breath and came into it’s own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Now I don’t claim to live in the best neighbourhood in the world nor am I suggesting that no other neighbourhood could ever come up with the goods as mine did tonight, I’m just saying that when M came round at the drop of a hat and spent a good couple of hours helping me to sort things out, I felt proud and happy to live where I do and have neighbours like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So thanks M for popping round.  We’ll still need an electrician to get to the bottom of all this but at least we have a working cooker and fridge, for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And the chicken?  Well he has been part cooked and is standing there on the kitchen work surface looking rather forlorn what with a wine bottle up his arse.  We can’t really carry on cooking him.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Actually I think he’s smiling at me.  I think he got the last laugh after all.  Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113952385723133215?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113952385723133215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113952385723133215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113952385723133215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113952385723133215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/spark-in-dark.html' title='A Spark in the Dark'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113926854127325441</id><published>2006-02-06T23:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-06T23:36:11.363Z</updated><title type='text'>Wu Wei</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Having recently had need to thumb through my well thumbed copy of Bejamin Hoff’s brilliant book, ‘The Tao of Pooh’ I have tried hard today to put the principles of Wu Wei into action.  For those of you who are not so sure allow me to quote…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Literally, Wu Wei means "without doing, causing, or making." But practically speaking, it means without meddlesome, combative, or egotistical effort … Wu Wei means no going against the nature of things; no clever tampering; no Monkeying Around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The efficiency of Wu Wei is like that of water flowing over and around the rocks in its path - not the mechanical, straight-line approach that usually ends up short-circuiting natural laws, but one that evolves from an inner sensitivity to the natural rhythm of things.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;When we learn to work with our own Inner Nature, and with the natural laws operating around us, we reach the level of Wu Wei. Then we work with the natural order of things and operate on the principle of minimal effort. Since the natural world follows that principle, it does not make mistakes. Mistakes are made - or imagined - by man, the creature with the overloaded Brain who separates himself from the supporting network of natural laws by interfering and trying too hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;When you work with Wu Wei, you put the round peg in the round hole and the square peg in the square hole. No stress, no struggle. Egotistical Desire tries to force the round peg into the square hole and the square peg into the round hole. Cleverness tries to devise craftier ways of making pegs fit where they don't belong. Knowledge tries to figure out why round pegs fit round holes, but not square holes. Wu Wei doesn't try. It doesn't think about it. It just does it. And when it does, it doesn't appear to do much of anything. But Things Get Done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But down through the centuries, man has developed a mind that separates him from the world of reality, the world of natural laws. This mind tries too hard, wears itself out, and ends up weak and sloppy. Such a mind, even if of high intelligence, is inefficient. It goes here and there, backwards and forwards, and fails to concentrate on what it's doing at the moment. It drives down the street in a fast-moving car and thinks it's at the store, going over a grocery list. Then it wonders why accidents occur.  When you work with Wu Wei, you have no real accidents. Things may get a little Odd at times, but they work out. You don't have to try very hard to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;make &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;them work out; you just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;let &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And I believe that things have got done today.  I’ve not got too wound up about stuff at work, I’ve recognized that things needed doing at home and I’ve found time to get quite a few of them done tonight.  I even managed to make time to paint N’s face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It’s a nice feeling when you do it the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Wu Wei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113926854127325441?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113926854127325441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113926854127325441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113926854127325441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113926854127325441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/wu-wei.html' title='Wu Wei'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113917412310152701</id><published>2006-02-05T21:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-05T21:15:23.103Z</updated><title type='text'>You Gotta Fight For Your Right...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;S’s party today.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Three Years Young.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;If you know S at all then you’ll understand that today was a celebration of three years without killing him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Friends of ours and friends of his and crisps and sausages and cheese and pineapple and jelly and ice cream and wine and pop and presents and cards and chat and time to go home and clearing up and relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Cream crackered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Blog then bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113917412310152701?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113917412310152701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113917412310152701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113917412310152701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113917412310152701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/you-gotta-fight-for-your-right.html' title='You Gotta Fight For Your Right...'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113917386123004024</id><published>2006-02-05T21:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-05T21:11:01.416Z</updated><title type='text'>Staying up late with PDA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So I agree to sort out my Dad’s PDA.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(By the way it’s my father in law we’re talking about here.)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well there’s a certain responsibility on my part since it was my idea for him to give it to him for a retirement present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;He has a laptop, a PDA and an enormous collection of wine, CD’s and books all of which he wants to catalogue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So the plan is hatched – I add office, the synchronisation software and docs to go (a MS office application reader) to the laptop.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I then write a few excel spreadsheets for him to add his catalogue.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(I’m not even going there to answer why I didn’t use Access).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Doddle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Like fuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Firstly father does not hand over CD of synchronisation software or apps.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Not a problem methinks for the Sony website is bound to make it available to download.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Problem number 1.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;They don’t.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Thus begins trawl of internet for software.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Problem number 2.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The clié runs palm OS (yuk).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The palm website does not support the clié.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Further trawls of internet for other software.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Problem number 3.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Version of said palm OS is v4.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Most software available is for version 5.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Finally get software (all trial version only so another bridge to cross in 30 days) to attempt installation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Problem number 4.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;PDA runs Win98 and doesn’t want to know anything about software until we have a serious man to machine chat about drivers.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So back to Sony website here I am amazed (actually not amazed at all) to find…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Problem number 5.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No fucking drivers.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;By this time it was 1:30 and I really needed some sleep.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I would have carried on but Andrea rang me from her mobile in bed to say get to bed you loser.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So no blog last night and not a lot of sleep either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113917386123004024?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113917386123004024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113917386123004024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113917386123004024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113917386123004024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/staying-up-late-with-pda.html' title='Staying up late with PDA'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113901305612719524</id><published>2006-02-04T00:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-04T00:30:56.180Z</updated><title type='text'>Life is like a slow train crawling to harrow and wealdstone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Went to see Katie Melua tonight.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Never have I seen so many middle aged people crammed into the Hammersmith Apollo.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Had a super time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Katie truly has a sublime voice and the band that backed her were simply brilliant - versatile and musically accomplished.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In fact they actually made Ms Melua's stage presence seem a little amateurish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Was joined on the train home by my boss and her husband.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;They'd been to the concert too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Nice chat to make the journey on the slow train go pleasantly quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Off to Cheltenham tomorrow for a GB meeting so need for much sleep required else I'll be a bit drowsy behind the wheel so I’ll bid you all goodnight my dear bloglings with Katie Melua still singing in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113901305612719524?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113901305612719524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113901305612719524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113901305612719524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113901305612719524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/life-is-like-slow-train-crawling-to.html' title='Life is like a slow train crawling to harrow and wealdstone'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113892155798211485</id><published>2006-02-02T23:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-02T23:05:58.003Z</updated><title type='text'>Uruk-Hai play football</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;One of the beautiful things about my job is being able to see my son at school without having to peer over the fence and risk having the police called – yes that has happened before now and it was just a parent looking for their kiddie.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Fuckwit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;No, for me I can insist that my pupils get on with their work quietly while I peer out the window at N running around the playground.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Today he and a pal decided to join in the year 3 football match.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Brave move.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It’s a cross between death match wrestling and Watford town centre on a Friday night but without the lipstick.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Even the teachers on playground duty stay out of it for fear they might not get out alive.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Take this recent conversation for example between a teacher on playground duty and a child preparing to enter the fray…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Teacher (holding child by the throat):&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Have you got any knives, guns, knuckle dusters on you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Child:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No, no, no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Teacher (smashing bottle against wall and thrusting jagged edge towards face of child):&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well you’d better take this then, it’s a bit rough in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway N managed to avoid a couple of nasty encounters before his pal saw the futility of his situation and buggered off to play on the train tracks (they’re not real train tracks by the way) though frankly if they had been it would have been significantly safer than the football match cum massacre that was occurring on the other side of the playground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So they stuck him in goal.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bless him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No problem – all he had to do was stand there and shiver until the ball got punted down the pitch in his direction closely followed by a marauding pack of year 3 Uruk-Hai (tonight you will eat man flesh.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And my son stood his ground to catch the ball and chuck it back down the pitch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Actually he did nothing of the sort.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;If ever, in a single moment, proof was required that maybe Richard Dawkins had a point about genetics after all it was then.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For just like his father would have done in the same situation N legged it around the back of the net muttering ‘bugger that’ under his breath as he went.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I was so proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;N didn’t seem to care – he was already on his way to the train tracks to find his mate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And the fighting Uruk-Hai didn’t even seem to notice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113892155798211485?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113892155798211485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113892155798211485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113892155798211485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113892155798211485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/uruk-hai-play-football.html' title='Uruk-Hai play football'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113883765054378647</id><published>2006-02-01T23:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-01T23:47:30.620Z</updated><title type='text'>DJ All The Way (2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Was that a prophecy?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;DJ’s on his way alright – all the way to Birmingham.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bugger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113883765054378647?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113883765054378647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113883765054378647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113883765054378647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113883765054378647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/02/dj-all-way-2.html' title='DJ All The Way (2)'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113875084055897126</id><published>2006-01-31T23:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-31T23:40:40.593Z</updated><title type='text'>On the way up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The last few days I have not been at my best. I seem to go through phases of indecision and procrastination – paralysed by fear or so it seems. On the outside I seem to cover it up quite well. Only those who know me best would ever know – I make promises I can’t keep, swing in mood from one moment to the next, reach for the fridge, tell blatant lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that returning from a few days of sickness to an already overcrowded schedule did it for me. I wasn’t really coping before I went down with the bug and I could cope even less afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I generally snap out of it and catch up with myself when deadlines loom so close that I have no choice but to act. At least this time I recognised where I was at a bit sooner than usual. Or was it that I have too many deadlines looming just now? Whatever, but the truth is I usually manage to squirm around in my little cocoon of fear for a good while longer than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So although I have no one to apologise to other than myself I want to say sorry for not blogging so much lately although it is the truth that the whole internet thing has fucked my head lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having A at home tonight has made a big difference. She is, in a sense, an embodiment of my conscience. I don’t feel under pressure if she’s about but, somehow, it’s just feels nice hearing her pottering about (more often than not doing the housework that I ought to be doing), knowing she’s there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking opera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here’s to me on my way back up. If how I’ve felt is a tiny, tiny bit like depression then my heart goes out to all those who suffer any mental illness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dedicate this entry to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113875084055897126?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113875084055897126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113875084055897126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113875084055897126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113875084055897126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/01/on-way-up.html' title='On the way up'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113849273290029801</id><published>2006-01-28T23:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-28T23:58:52.970Z</updated><title type='text'>DJ all the Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Days like this don’t come along that often.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This has been a great day…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Installed wireless modem/router and didn’t manage to cut off the phone, nor call BT to sort out the mess I’d made of extending phone line.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Managed to get new phone to talk to wi-fi and so can web and email browse anywhere in house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Accepted lunch invitation from old friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Listened to a great band that I’d never heard before – John Butler Trio.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Thanks D for the disc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But most of all, listened to and then later saw (on Match of the Day) Brentford put Premiership Sunderland out of the FA Cup.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Shit happens that I couldn’t get a ticket for the want of a stub but I’ve not felt so excited about a football match for a long time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve recorded the highlights to play ad nauseum to the kids at school on Monday, and Tuesday and…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;No seriously, this has been a great day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113849273290029801?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113849273290029801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113849273290029801' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113849273290029801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113849273290029801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/01/dj-all-way.html' title='DJ all the Way'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113840692057727090</id><published>2006-01-28T00:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-28T00:08:40.593Z</updated><title type='text'>Chasing Technology</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Very late, very tired but just a quickie to say that technology caught up with me in a big way today – or was it me catching up with the technology, I’m not too sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bought a brand new phone that now combines my PDA, MP3 player, digital camera and oh yeah, mobile phone all into one.  Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent bloody hours setting it up out tonight to sync with PC via bluetooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broadband account came on line today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent bloody hours setting up modem tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got new SIM card for old phone so that I can access all the features on my old phone to transfer all the data to my new phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent bloody ages trying to register it tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t do any of what I should have but enjoyed myself nevertheless chasing technology. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect Friday night in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way, happy birthday Mozart.  I hope they’ll talk about me in 250 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113840692057727090?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113840692057727090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113840692057727090' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113840692057727090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113840692057727090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/01/chasing-technology.html' title='Chasing Technology'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20622412.post-113831368428433217</id><published>2006-01-26T22:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-26T22:14:44.326Z</updated><title type='text'>Galloway Comes Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/1600/galloway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/200/galloway.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now that would be a headline!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not hugely impressed by the man if truth be told. His anti-war rants have been entertaining enough though others have ranted better. His speech before the US Senate was truly brilliant but that was more yank bashing than Saddam supporting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But his decision to go into the BB house and his performance were truly narcisstic. And to think that he could influence what C4 were going to edit is just a joke – he is a man blinded by his own light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he is the type of politician that we have grown to idolise over recent years – a maverick fighting for a just cause, unashamed to speak his mind and willing to take on all who disagree right to the very top. One thinks of Tony Banks, Tony Benn, Martin Bell and the heady days of the SDP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still you know what they say – the only problem with political jokes is that all to often they end up getting elected!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20622412-113831368428433217?l=suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/feeds/113831368428433217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20622412&amp;postID=113831368428433217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113831368428433217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20622412/posts/default/113831368428433217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suburbanmediocrity.blogspot.com/2006/01/galloway-comes-out.html' title='Galloway Comes Out'/><author><name>darren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06881892676800701355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4359/2074/640/15%20darren.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
