kirk and spock ride the bus

this new direction for my m.a might not be so good. I’ve been looking vfor my favorite moments in star trek movies – I’ve yet to find the bit with ‘row row row your boat’ tho – but what I just found is this. It is genious and almost has me falling off my chaiir with laughter!

where no researcher has gone before

You guys will like this. well, it amuses me, anyway. Highly. I had a meeting with my supervisor/tutor yesterday: he seems very pleased with my progress, and yesterday I finally conceded film was a language, although unlike human language, which may have had a bearing on his mood. Anyway, we began discussing the location of my own cinephilia, and, since we were in Alan’s office, I asked him to call up the scene from first contact on youtube. Alan’s own masters was on Moby dick, so I thought he might like it. Well, we watched it, and then Alan said ‘why don’t you do part of your thesis on the cinephilia connected with star trek?’ after I had determined he wasn’t joking, I grew increasingly excited, and after the meeting headed straight for the library. Now, the question is, where to begin? I know where to begin – by rewatching the star trek films (only the films, mind – for my purposes the TV series are irrelevant). But where then? Which sweet should I eat first, now I’ve been gifted the sweet shop?

Woohoo. This is gonna rule!

a witch is a witch

It should, I hope, be obvious to anyone with more than two working brain cells that this hubbub about Tories paying backhanders to their offspring is indicative of the conservative mind frame. People who adhere to that outdated worldview care only for themselves, and not about people who elected them. Moreover, the way in which CaMoron is defending Derek Conway, while attacking labour MPs for doing less shows that, rather than being the whiter-than-white nice guy he is so desperately trying to present himself as, he’s just as corrupt and arrogant as the rest of his imbecilic party. When will people learn to ignore this bunch of twats known as Tories?

pimp my wheelchair

I’m rather missing the defiant atm, leading me to scour youtube for wheelchair-related items. Having to use my manual chair as a trolly sucks. subsequently, this video has given me a few ideas – I especially like the idea of a tray-mounted computer, maybe with imbult sat nav…sweet but keep that ‘westwood’ fool away from me!

weekends like theese…

Charlie just dropped me off at uni after my semi-weekend at hers, so I’m knackered. The Jones household is the bright, cheerful place I left it. We went to the birthday party of one of their neighbours last night, hosted in one of the oldest houses in Chester. Needless to say, my intention not to drink too much was quickly forgotten after a sip of a very good Australian red. I spent the evening talking to the joneses and their friends and doing a bit of dancing.

This morning I went to church with Mrs. Jones. I realised I had never been to an English church, and so I asked if I could tag along. It was a very interesting experience, but I’m afraid to say I’m still a confirmed atheist.

So, it seems my fears over losing touch with people are unfounded. What’s more, old boys is just around the corner, and then we have Paris to organise. You know, friends like mine – like Charlie and her family – make the world a brighter place.


I have about four things to say in this blog entry, so bear with me. First, my hit count exceeded 200,000 last night. Woohoo. People have wanted to see what I have to say 200,000 times. It’s a strange thought really, because mostly I write piffle. Well, I try to keep it relevant most of the time, but sometimes the temptation just to fish for something on youtube gets too much.

Second, I must say I thoroughly enjoyed ash’s performance last night. I found it intriguing, and the actual thing was definitely better than the rehearsal. I fear I slated it a bit too much yesterday. Esther and I came up with a cunning plan yesterday: we only stayed for the lecture and skipped the screening. This way, Est didn’t have to get back from alsager to her home in Crewe too late – I am loathe to make a girl walk home alone in the dead of night. This way, she wouldn’t have got home too late, and I got to see ash’s piece and the lecture, which, as it turned out, was most valuable. Ashley performed brilliantly, except for one slight hiccup with a costume change. Also, it wasn’t the turgid thing I had expected, but actually quite funny. I think I had misread it, too: it was about potential and choice rather than deem and gloom. I had initially dismissed it as a tea party, but in retrospect her inclusion of tea was a nice touch given the audience had to stand (or in my case sit) outside.

Talking of parties, my friend charlotte has invited me to a party at hers tomorrow. It’ll be good to see her. Mind you, I’m yet to clear this with my parents, but it’s something to look forward to. To think that I complained on here once that I didn’t have a social life; these days I sometimes think I have too much of one. c says it’s a smart affair, and I’ll need my suit, which sounds cool. She also says I might b able to have a martini!

And speaking of martinis (notice the nice segway there) the title of the new bond film will be Quantum of Solace, which is typically cryptic. It doesn’t seem a day ago since Tony and charlotte took me to see casino royale, but the next offering in the bond franchise is out at the end of the year. I really like Daniel Craig, I must say he is, in my opinion, the best since Sean Connery, and much more akin to the heartless bastard of the original Fleming novels. I adore the ending of casino royale, which in my opinion qualifies as a cinephiliac moment – a moment in a film of pure joy, where the viewer is pricked (to borrow a term from Roland Barthes) Anyway, I better start my day. It seems I have quite a bit to look forward to, and therefore enough to write about here for another 100,000 hits.

footplates and acting

Whenever something breaks I get mildly depressed. I suppose its worse when my lightwriter breaks, but my chair is now out of action for a while. Dad says, quite wisely, that it is probably best that I don’t use it until it is fixed. This makes this afternoon awkward, however, as I need my chair to get home after my late lecture on Thursday. Esther just leaves me at the bus stop in Crewe, and I get myself home. Therefore I’m considering bunking off this afternoon’s lecture and working on my thesis. Given I haven’t skived in three and a half years, its about time I did so. Its not actually skiving, anyway. I’ll see what Est says; she has a nasty way of talking me out of such things.

It’s ash’s performance tonight. She allowed me to view the final rehearsal on Tuesday, since I was going to be away later, and still might be. Its called the art of suicide, and comes, as you can probably tell, from quite a dark place – a place where I was about 5 years ago; somewhere I left behind and do not whish to return. Its kind of bitter, yet sickly sweet; kind of an obsession with an aesthetic of death. Don’t get me wrong, back then I wasn’t suicidal, just bitter and cynical. I think Ash’s piece tonight comes from this place, which is why I’m interested in it. Mind you part of me is angered by it: what is the point of such a piece? To me, it kind of glorifies it, kind of wallows in self pity; makes suicide seem something other than it actually is. Keep thinking of my friends who aren’t here any more; I counted during the rehearsal – 5, in all, from my class at school. It seems to throw away a life is a waste, a retreat. As I see it, life is too good a party to leave early. Mind you, I can only pass judgement really if I see the full thing tonight.

I’ll let you know what happens tomorrow.


Well, I’m back in one piece. Those DVDs have been waiting for me to change them for ages. the hard part was choosing their replacements. It took me well over half an hour to decide!

I’d like to have been able to say that my trip went without a hitch. It did, until it was time to get off the bus at alsager. I accelerated too fast and bashed my footplate on a small post. I need a new footplate – there’s a shop in Crewe which might do them, but I’ll see what dad says. If the driver had parked closer to the curb, or had got up off his arse to put the ramp out, everything would have been ok. I also have a nasty graze on my right leg.



After yesterday’s productivity, I’ve decided to go into Hanley today to change my DVDs. This will be an adventure for me, which is why I’m making this blog entry. After I print off a map, I’ll get the number twenty bus there and back. Should be back by mid afternoon. I’ll blog again before 7pm.

Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back by teatime.

the return of sail

Will someone tell me the difference why they are calling a sail a ‘kite’ here? I don’t care if it looks like a kite, as far as I’m concerned, it’s a sail, and I m very amused by it. We’ve had powered ships for about 200 years, but ironically we’re having to return to the ancient technologies in order to save the environment. Whatever next? Steam powered cars? Even better, horse drawn wheelchairs.