'Myspace: A place for friends'. That's how the slogan goes, and so it was like that for a good year, since I first opened my account like literally millions of others worldwide. It was in and it was trendy. Most of the elements the internet offered, in one place. It's a Friend Reunited, it's e-mail, it's great for networking, and it's done a lot for bands like the Arctic Monkeys. (Okay, a lot of people, I'm sure wish the Arctic Monkeys didn't make it out of the Sheffield pub circuit, but it's got potential) 

Like many people, I managed to make online contact with acquaintances I haven't seen for years, I've met likeminded people from all over the world and found good music, but I'm done with it now. 'Friends' is pretty grandiose when you consider that the only requests I now get are from girls that need to obtain credit card details to watch them in their underwear on a webcam. 

It's been nice, but it's now nothing more than a breeding ground for spammers. And it's very uncool in the circles I wish I moved in.

The spangly new and rather old and very right wing Pope, as well as a 'Creationist Museum' have this week both challenged Darwin and his rather excellent and more than likely true theories on evolution, in the same week that various scientists have linked the T-Rex to chickens through protein samples. I wish I had more time to write about this, but instead of doing that I'll leave you with this notion:-

How can God create the whole world in six days when it takes the average carpenter around six weeks to build decking in the medium sized garden of a semi detached, three bedroom house in Maidstone?

Tags: builders, carpenters, creationism, evolution, general, musings, thoughts, union, workers
Current Location: the Brunswick Arms, Worcester
Current Music: The regular pub jukebox shite

My first trip abroad was in 1992, when I was at the unripe old age of seven, to the Spanish island of Menorca. I remember the lizard climbing the walls in our chalet, the perils of nearly drowning, my stepfather dropping his camera when realising I was drowning (my parents undeveloped wedding pictures being destroyed as a result!) and the fact that you could smoke on the plane, if you so desired (or needed to) When I next got on a plane, in 1998, to Greece, you could not.

As time has progressed, so has the anti smoking attitude. Smoking is now only for the afflicted, the addicted, and those who feel they lack something in the credibility department, whereass once, a long time ago, everyone did it. When people realised that cigaretted were addictive they sued and won. Since then we've banned all advertising of it, and now we're going to remove any trace of it from anywhere remotely public. It was the natural progression.





Are smokers going to put the wheels in motion to start quitting, or will they discover a new sense of unity, along with all the other smokers, outside in the cold and the wet, under a canopy? The general consensus between my friends is the same; they're largely considering quitting. I don't hear any cries of 'this is an infringement of my human rights'. Quite rightly so. 

It's going to be a difficult slog, it's going to be expensive for bars to be responsible for providing adequate disposal of cigarette butts. But if the Scots can do it, so can we!

Tags: anti smoking, june 1, smoking
Current Location: Rainbow Hill, Worcester
Current Music: Sparks!!

I woke up on Sunday morning to the sound of a male presenter on BBC Radio 4 talking of 'the internet's biggest graveyard'; One and a half million blogs exist that have been started and then just abandoned, apparantly.
I can't have that. Every day I log onto my Livejournal account with nothing to say. I sheepishly read the news to find something I feel half qualified to express an opinion on, realise the point I'm trying to make is too complicated, or that the prose I'm using isn't the best it could be, and then the working day is over with yes, plenty of work done, but no blog entry.
The thing is, I'm a perfectionist which is good. But I happen to be too much of a perfectionist. To the point where I'll just think 'fuck it' if I can't express myself the best of my ability.

I don't want to be buried in the internet's biggest graveyard just  yet. I'd much rather live a fruitful blogging life, whatever paths I decide to choose along the way. I think I'm likely to kill this blog off if I don't just write what's on my mind. I don't need to provide the world with a witty social commentary every day, I don't need to be a totally forward thinker.

I'll still get writers' block sometimes, that's inevitable, and that's when you'll just get the obligatory diary entry - thoughts, feelings, otherwise-repressed spite. It's all good fun. 

Like now, for example; it's probably got something to do with the fact that it's morning, I'm one cup of coffee into the day, and brain is still swimming in the usual venom for the rest of the human race. It's also Monday, which adds to the frustration - the weekend, with its fun, relaxation and sleep, is now nothing more than a distant memory.

It wouldn't be quite as bad if I wasn't so desperately unhappy with my current career status as 'temp' - all the benefits of having a job, without actually existing. Instead I'm officially employed by an agency, who effectively pimp me to whoever needs a bit of data entry done here or there. I'd be interested to know what I make, per hour, for the agency 'representing' me.

 

Never trust an organisation that classes itself as an agency. Agencies are companies that you don't actually need, if you were  willing to do a little more legwork yourself.  Instead, you employ them to work on your behalf, and they take a cut of whatever you earn from as a result. So essentially they're parasites. Admitedly, we all need to earn a crust. Maybe that's just what capitalism entails. It just annoys me that agencies provide such a shoddy, bullshit laden service; talent agencies and estate agents are notorious for their sloppiness and lies, but having no discernable talent and not being even on the first rung of the property ladder, my only experience is in using them to find me a job. It's been a ghastly six months of a week here and week there - one office after another doing work under false pretenses, completely different to how it was described by the agency that pay me.
I receive the telephone calls - upbeat cries of "Fantastic opportunity!!!", "The last temp we put there made it to Sales Director in the three months!!!" and "If I didn't work here, I'd work there, they're a fantastic company!". They speak of 'temp-to-perm' positions that involve a short probationary period which then, ideally, leads to a contract with the company, a pay rise and holiday, but as soon as things never really seem to develop. I never really feel a sense of belonging, like I have when I had 'permenant' jobs, in what seems like eons ago: Prospective colleagues talk amongst theirselves and although you kind of know what they're talking about, because you just entered the data they're referring to, you feel it just doesn't concern you. beacuse you're just a tool someone's got in to do the menial tasks they don't have time to do.. Whilst it's not slavery, I can't help but feel it might be nice to be the person asking the temp to do my filing for me.




Filing happens to be the worst in a long list of mundane tasks I've had to perform during my time temping. Take a mass of papers and put them in order. Repeat ad nauseum. People don't consider for one moment the boredom involved. I know it's easy for me to say as I'm not some cynical Managing DIrector with his roots in 80s yuppie culture, but isn't everything computerised nowadays? Why can't these offices do away with  their ancient  filing cabinets and overflowing documentation, and replace them withem with something a little more aesthetically pleasing? After all, surely the combined unique selling point of every business software program since the epoch is that you can do away with paper. What's the point in maintaining both?


It's not all doom and gloom; I've gained what my CV would call 'valuable experience' from working at various places. And the wage I demand goes up in steady incirments whenever a new 'asignment' comes along. It's just lacking a sense of belonging I hate. And people with no actual authority bossing you around. And meeting loads of new people every time you go somewhere different. And conflicting office politics. And timesheets you have to fill in and fax to get paid. And being paid weekly.... I hate rather a lot of it, yes.

Still, as Baz Lurhamm told the class of '97 in his hit (Everybody's Free to) Wear Sunscreen,  

"Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life,
the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22
what they wanted to do with their lives,
some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t"

... It's a subject for another blog, but the above is surely the best advice given in a UK hit single since 'Always look on the bright side of life'. Let's just hope I can heed this!

Tags: depression, musings, temporary, work
Current Location: Somewhere in an office in Pershore
Current Mood: bored
Current Music: keyboards tapping

Some of you may have heard an all-too-short clip of Mary Hopkin's version of Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth, on the recent BBC 6Music documentary on Sparks.

I'm appealing to anyone who happens to have a copy of this stored somewhere on a hard drive, although I think it's pretty unlikely - as far as I know the song has never seen the light of day, officially.

For those who don't know, Welsh Mary Hopkin was signed to the Beatles eponymous Apple label in the late '60s. She later married record producer Tony Visconti (producer of Indiscreet, as you'll know) and the pair wrote an album called 'Earth Song, Ocean Song' in the early '70s. Although around 50 tracks were demo'd for a follow up, nothing ever saw the light of day, largely because of Mary's reluctance to promote the album live. Her version of Never Turn Your Back has been one of the most sought after Sparks rarities for a while now, and its only public airing thus far was on the Sparks documentary last month, although it has made its way on to Morrissey's intermission tapes for the current tour. This is probably thanks to Tony Visconti, who produced Morrissey's latest album, Ringleader of the Tormentors. I haven't had the chance to hear the version in full, hence my appeal for anyone lucky enough to have found it anywhere.