Night Bus

Billy Joel is playing on my ipod, the night and miles are slipping away to the Piano Man. There is a certain appeal to travelling at night it’s almost like a night flight from a Tolkien or spy novel. Slipping away at night without attracting any attention. Man! Does you mind wander on long bus journeys. Looking around the dimly lit bus cabin seeing the different characters. There’s an old man sitting next to me admiring the pretty girl in the row ahead of us. The old man has a rather stately distinguished look, his hair and beard both neatly trimmed half moon spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose. To finish off he has a pipe clenched between his teeth.

The woman looked like she had just fallen out of the Casino Royale in Montenegro. Elegance personified with hair that shimmered in the over head lights, and draped in diamonds that sparkled like a thousand constellations, in the rays from the street lights. Observing these two and how out of place they seem on the night bus bound west. My mind wanders again this time to the sound of Bob Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues. It wanders in a new direction, inspired by these two strangers as to what chain of events led them to this time and place. My tired mind weaves their stories together and moves backwards through a series of events that may or may not have happened all to the tune of Bob Dylan.

My mind wanders into the past first back to a time when men carried hip flasks and cigarette tins. To what seemed like a much more sophisticated and timeless era. Back through events that have shaped the world we live in today, back past the first gulf war, past Vietnam even back past world war II. It wanders to a time shortly after the great depression. It’s 1931 in a Chicago Jazz Club, the room is thick with cigarette smoke and everyone is sharply dressed in suits and dresses. The man at the bar ordering his drink seems familiar something about him, an aura of familiarity that I’ve seen him before. The moment passes and he moves away from the bar and takes his seat near the dance floor. The men that he has sat with do not stand out on first glance. On a second glance however one notices the fine cut of their jackets and unmistakable bulge, that signals that they are armed.

Crouched low over the table that wards off any would be eavesdroppers. The business they discuss must be important. Watching them from afar imagination runs wild each possible topic much more improbable than the last. By the time I stop day dreaming about what their conversation it has ended and the familiar man is dancing with some stunning red head. The band plays out and the club starts to empty. Something compels me to follow the man. I don’t know why but I do, back to his hotel where I rent the nearest room I can. All these things I do out of instinct for no reason that I can fathom. With a stroke of luck my room is next to his. (Almost like someone was writing this. What happens next who knows?)

Sleep comes and it’s several hours later when I wake and begin to recongise the familiarity of the hotel room. Automatically I place my ear to the wall that I share with the man from the club. The rhythmic rumble of his snores let me know that he is still there and sleeping. With my curiosity about this man peaked, it’s time to for some pondering and piecing together of what has happened in the last 24 hours. Tracking back through the ether of memories events shape themselves into a scenario, the situation builds itself like a movie. The charismatic bank robber who’s stolen the countries heart and the relentless dedicated law man trying to catch him. The only question left to answer is which part do I play?

Still pondering my role in the unfolding story I leave for breakfast. The diner down the road gets recommended by the hotelier. Wandering down the street wrapped up in my own thoughts I fail to notice the gentleman that has appeared beside me. He walks lockstep with me to the diner and sits beside me in the diner, drinks his coffee then leaves. He left his cheque book behind him. On the back is my name, a place and a time…………..

Published in:  on October 28, 2009 at 1:52 pm Leave a Comment

IRMA and The Media Industries unwillingness to change…..

As it is evident to most people file sharing and illegal downloading are not going to go away. The only thing that can be done is to minimise it by providing an alternative service that can compete with it. However the media industry refuses to acknowledge this and try and develop a new business model to compete with it. One of the biggest displays of ignorance was IRMA forcing Eircom to block the Pirate Bay website. It is the most pointless thing I’d ever heard of and I am extremely annoyed at Eircom for allowing it to happen. I hope to address two points in this post the being why it was pointless for the IRMA to request a block on just the pirate bay. and the second is why I am so annoyed at Eircom for allowing it to happen.

The reason that this block is so pointless is the same way that the napster situation in the late nineties early noughties was. unless every ISP agrees to block every site suspected of facilitating copyright infringement then banning just one or a selection of these sites is pointless. People are just going to switch to another site or service. Listening to an interview with an IRMA representative on the radio a few weeks ago it came across to me as though he genuinely believed that illegal downloading by Eircom customers was genuinely going to be stopped by this ban.

I don’t think that these people realise how the internet works, it goes beyond one I.P address, URL or set of servers. The pirate bay could very easily just copy everything across to a new set of servers with a new name and then the IRMA would be back to square one. It really is mind boggling. Being a child of the internet generation so to speak I am amazed at the fear of change exhibited by the big media companies. Being honest I see record companies influence diluting in favour of artists direct marketing to fans through services such as MySpace, iTunes and Facebook. Record sales were falling before napster and any of this became a topical issue. There’s a lot that could be said about how the napster incident was handled on both sides and being honest I don’t know enough about the subject to comment one way or the other about what happened. iTunes was released a few months later which I suppose could be seen as a happy compromise. (I’m a fan of iTunes btw).

I suppose now would be a good time to move onto my second point. I can’t understand why Eircom would allow this to happen. As an ISP (Internet Service Provider) they shouldn’t be censoring anything. It is not the duty of the ISP to filter content. What’s worse about this is that it has set a precedent now in Irish law. It is a bad precedent since it was all decided before it went before the court. The fact that it was stated in the Judges comments at the end of the trial maybe a saving grace for ISP’s that do not back down from the record companies. UPC and Esat BT have stated that they will not follow in Eircom’s foot steps. There is no legal condition in this country to force ISP’s to monitor their customers usage of broadband services. What it really boils down to is that Eircom backed down when threatened with legal action. Hopefully UPC and Esat BT which are larger companies and owned in turn by bigger multinationals will not.

Published in:  on October 7, 2009 at 3:16 pm Leave a Comment
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Published in:  on September 10, 2009 at 12:27 am Enter your password to view comments

The Manor

The man in black pauses for a moment of reflection on his foe. There is a part of him that envies the man in red. Since that night he likes to think that the man in red has led a peaceful life, he even has a family now. He leads the life that all mercenaries dream of, a peaceful life. The last of the morning fog burns away as the last of the column of workers winds its way through towards the fields. The moment of envy passes and he sets off towards the manor of the man in red.


The paving on the road that cuts through the heart of the forest that borders the town and hems in the man in reds manor is travel worn, the trees at the side are impeccably kept and offer a sharp contrast to unkempt ones that lie just past the forest border. The forest seems eternal in contrast to the recent settlement near the docks, who knows what tales the trees in the forest would tell if they could talk. Generations of observing the comings and goings of man and other creatures.


The path way seems to have been constructed purposefully to reach the man in red’s residence. There are no branches or crossroads, but that suits the man in black. There are no distractions on this path, no chances to go a different way. The man in black is committed to this path whatever it’s outcome. The gun belts are starting to fell like a ton weight, the companions that have saved his life more times than he can remember start to feel like a house guest that has outstayed their welcome. He’s just waiting to get rid of them because one way or another he’s going to be finished with them tonight.
The forest track winds closer to the fortress, the sun begins to set and in his mind a bell begins to toll. The gun belts creak in as he adjusts them so he can get the drop on the man in red. The sun has set as he reaches the gates of the fortress, the sentries wave him past, the man in red is expecting him it seems.


Something about that sets him on edge. He was sure that the sentries observed him on the forest path but just to be waved through. This is new and the man in black doesn’t like that. New situations are dangerous and one seldom leaves them alive. The door to the manor opens smoothly as the man in black approaches. No creaking, the hairs on his neck stand a sure sign that something is wrong. As he makes his way through the manor he smells blood on the air. There is something wrong here, he thinks back to his approach to the manor and realises that the sentries never moved from where they standing on the wall. That combined with the thick almost pungent smell of blood sets the dice rolling in his head and he involuntarily draws his guns. He realises that the man in red is more that likely dead or gravely wounded. Revenge and honour seem lost to him at the moment.


He pushes those thoughts from his mind and continues his way through the manor. Needlessly checking every room, he knows where the creature that did this are. His pragmatic nature shows in this checking every room. Eventually he reaches the main hall and the shock of what he sees makes him fall to his knees and the guns slip from his hands. In front of him is a scene that he had hoped never to see. The man in red is missing his hands and feet, his head is hanging on by a sliver of flesh and there is a symbol carved into his chest. The symbol is of two dragons arranged in the shape of a ying yang. The symbol that is burned into the back of his head, he remembers it from his youth when he was a part of the monarch’s assassin squad. They always said it was a life service. But himself and the man in red never believed that. Since they were the best in the squad. Only one surpassed them and he is here now. In thirty years of living free as a mercenary he has killed seventy five of the monarchs assassins. To have this one sent after them though means that they do want the two of them dead and no mistakes.

Published in:  on June 25, 2009 at 5:03 pm Leave a Comment
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Anvil: The Story of Anvil

Having just watched this film I’m surprised. When I heard about the film I was expecting a Spinal Tap type film, I was wrong. The film begins showing Anvil at their peak playing at a rock festival in Japan in the early 80’s. The rest of the film is completely different to the start. The film for the most part shows them as a fledgling group of guys in their 50’s still trying to be rock stars and at the beginning it is funny. But the tone changes when you see how excited they get when they get some European tour dates.


The tour they embark on starts off on a high at a festival. But it quickly descends into a farce with them playing to half filled and empty clubs. The fun and amusement makes way for the realisation that these guys are chasing smoke. They are never going to get that break and enjoy the success they want. It’s a shame really, the two main members come across as really polite and genuine people. One of them takes a job at a telemarketing firm, and he doesn’t get anywhere there because he has to be impolite and pushy to people on the phone.


In terms of the film there are three stand out moments for me. The first is somewhere in Europe they turn up 2 hours late for a show because they got lost trying to find the club. The club owner/manager lets them go on and play their two hour set. Then refuses to pay them because they were two hours late and the club had half emptied. Emotions run high for the band at that point and understandably so they did play the show and got nothing.


The second is when they are trying to get a distributor for their latest album. They go to a meeting with EMI in Toronto. The EMI representative turns off their album midway through the first song. While it was obvious to me that he was never going to take the band on. He does build up Anvil’s hopes to the extent that they leave thinking that they have a good chance of being accepted/signed by EMI. The disappointment that is on Lips’s face when they get the rejection note from EMI a few weeks later is gut wrenching. They perserve though and self distribute their album selling it directly to fans.


The last moment comes right at the end of the film. For the film it’s been built as these guys who can’t get a break. They go to Japan to play as part of a big rock festival over there. You believe that things are finally going there way. They find out their spot is the first on the day at 11:35am. The band starts to worry that no one will be there since they are the first band on and it’s so early in the day. This is shown right until they walk on stage dread that they are going to walk out into an empty arena…….they were wrong and the arena is packed full of anvil fans.


Watching their story begs the question is it worth it to be in the music business? There are a lot of films, books and other media that show how great it is IF you get that break. It’s refreshing to see the story of what might have been and the consequences of not making it big. These guys all have regular menial 9 to 5 jobs such as delivery drivers and are never particularly comfortable, given that a large portion of their income has to go on Anvil and the costs involved in keeping the band going.


Stories like this seem very common these days in the modern pop industry. Where bands have one or two hit singles and are then forgotten about. This is especially true of bands and performers that originate from reality shows such as the X factor. One hit wonders that are discarded and forgotten about as soon as something better comes along. For the moment I don’t know of any reason for people to try make it in the music industry…..seems more hardship than it’s worth since their is not guarantee that you will ever become successful.

Published in:  on June 21, 2009 at 1:08 pm Leave a Comment
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Just a band or were they?

Lately I’ve been listening to Dan LeSac vs Scroobius Pip. On there album there’s a song called “Thou Shalt Always Kill” it’s a very good lyric and song but there is a bit in the middle that goes like this


“Thou shalt not put recording artists on ridiculous pedestals no matter how good they are or were once were.
The beatles were just a band, Led Zeppelin were just a band


It goes on like that through various bands. But that got me to thinking were bands such as Led Zeppelin, the Sex Pistols, The Beatles and Rolling Stones just band or were they something more. The Sex Pistols and Rolling Stones especially for me stand out as more than just a band. They are almost the embodiment of a time in history and a mood in the country. The Stones and Beatles were the flag bearers of the swinging sixties. The Stones at Altamount could be said to have been the end of the sixties. (Appropriate that it was to Sympathy for the Devil). The Sex Pistols were one of the pioneers of punk and that movement made the earlier bands such as The Who, Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones look like the old dinosaurs. Those older bands had become very technical and were doing twenty minute drum and guitar solos. The younger fans coming up didn’t want that. They wanted quick, fast two minute songs to jump around to.


Surely they were more than just a band they started a fashion trend and were one of the epicentres of a cultural movement. The same has happened throughout music history, from the pioneers such as the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. They were superseded by punk and bands like the Ramones, Sex Pistols and Clash. These in turn were replaced by the new wave of British heavy metal led by Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. This list could go on through the different versions and bands that were more than just popular but defined a period, by the way they dressed the content of their lyrics and the way that they represented themselves to the public.


I don’t think that it is fair to these bands to say that they were just a band. A lot of bands are just bands but some go beyond that and become a representation of an atmosphere and period in history. These bands are an important part of history and even shaped part of it. For example if it wasn’t for glam and hair metal in the 80’s then there would be no such thing as parental advisory labels on cds. A small example but still it does show how these bands have had an influence on society.

Published in:  on May 13, 2009 at 5:23 pm Leave a Comment
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Insomnia

It’s 1:32 in the am and well I’m writing to my blog. Most sensible people are asleep or out partying, I’m not sure which I’d prefer at present. Probably sleep. There’s no real point to this other than it might pass some time till I fall asleep or I dunno go mad and go skydiving or something along those lines.


I suppose while I’m here I’ll scribble a brief part about a subject that deeply interests me, that is the changing media landscape. Almost since the inception of the different mediums of well media such as television, print and radio. They have been controlled by companies giving the wider public almost no input into what they read, watched or listened to. In recent years this has changed due to the internet and websites such as youtube, digg and facebook.


I think the youtube slogan sums up these sites, “Broadcast Yourself”. These sites focus on user interacting and user created content. In stark contrast to the programming schedules of the established media companies. These sites and their explosive growth in users has the established media running scared. The old world thinking that these companies have is strange given that the music industry has found out that you cannot control the internet. Yes the music industry did succeed in closing down napster but big deal! Napster was just the first, off the top of my head I can name over a dozen services and websites that will let me download films and music for free.


One thing that these companies seem to be mailing spectacularly at is that fail to realise that the internet cannot be controlled and even if they succeed in getting youtube to pay up these fines, sending the pirate bay guys to jail and hell even removing file sharing software such as limewire from circulation. They will NEVER succeed in controlling the internet or the content on it. It’s impossible when you have the volume of people that use the internet daily to control what they upload, download or visit. No matter how much they may like too.


Personally all these companies are serving to do is make me think that they are scared, stubborn and closed minded. They are failing to adapt to a new technology that for the foreseeable future is only going to become more popular and cause them more headaches unless they choose to adapt to the changing way that media is viewed and distributed.

Published in:  on April 29, 2009 at 8:11 pm Leave a Comment

The Haunted Mansion

“Hello”


“Who said that?”


“The master of the house”


“But this is my house”


“No, it’s my house, you are trespassing”


“But I bought this house”


“The house was stolen from me, you bought stolen property”


“What happens now?”


“You Die!”


Seven and two thirds months later. The house is still for sale after the horrific murder of it’s previous purchaser. The realtor has branded it unsellable, the house’s history is too big a deterrent for any would be owner. It’s a shame as the house really is magnificent. An old Georgian estate set in forty acres of what were once pristine gardens complete with fountains and a guest house down by the lake. The estate always seemed so peaceful until ninety years ago. What happened that summer has been lost to the sands of time. All that is known is that a tragedy occurred, the family that was living in the house mysteriously disappeared. No trace was ever found, the only thing out of place in the house was that the taps had been left on. Since then anyone who has taken up occupancy in the house has met a horrific death. Even those seeking shelter from a storm for a single night have never been heard from again.


The grounds of the estate have mirrored the house’s unfriendliness. A dark cloud has descended across the entire estate. The lake that was once like a mirror for the sky is now dank and a place of respite for evil things that despise the light of day. The woods have become havens for creatures whose only instinct is too kill. The realtor mourns the loss of the house to something that no one can quite understand. Obviously as a mature sensible adult he is too old to believe in such things as ghosts or spirits but what other explanation can there be?


The wind rustles outside and the door creaks open. A man steps in, he appears to be a middle aged man with not long and not short hair everything about him seems so hard to describe. He’s more than average but less than either of the extremes. It’s hard to describe him as when you try to concentrate on him your mind seems to wander. It’s strange I’ve never seen anyone like him. I realise he is talking to me and try to resume my calm customer manner. He’s asking about buying an estate, he’s describing the estate to me but I can’t quite place where he’s talking about. Then after he mentions the guest house by the lake the realisation dawns on me like the morning fog burning away that he is talking about the haunted mansion. He was describing what it must have looked like before the tragedy occurred.


He seems to know that it was once like before the tragedy occurred. How can that be? It’s been nearly a century since it happened and he looks just short of middle aged. It’s impossible to think that someone at his age could remember the estate in it’s prime. Against my better judgement I agree to show him the house later that day. I would lie and say that this is just another showing but I am forced to admit that I’m scared about this showing. I’m terrified at the thought of opening the house and going inside the house and showing someone around the house. But the manner that the man has is so self assured that I couldn’t help but agree to show him the house.


There hasn’t been anyone in the house in thirty years. It must be an absolute wreck and complete wreck inside but the man insists on seeing it. Waiting for the man at the gates to the house, it’s strange I see him coming but he’s not driving he’s just walking. It’s strange as the estate is not quite remote but there is no public transport that goes near the estate. The wind stirs the trees that line the street, yet his coat is untouched. This is one of the strangest characters that I’ve ever met.


Just as we approach the manor the sky clouds over. A voice booms across the sky, “Who enters my property?”. The man looks thoughtfully around before he replies……

Published in:  on February 5, 2009 at 3:04 pm Leave a Comment

The Future

Given my extremely close proximity to finishing my undergrad and actually being a qualified adult :( . I unfortunately have had to begin giving some thought to the future. The idea of having to actually assume some adult responsibility is frankly quite terrifying. This may have something to do with the economic change that has occurred while I have been a student. When I started my degree in 2005 things were extremely rosy and optimistic, we were told that we’d walk into jobs once we were qualified, that the world economy was absolutely desperate for technical graduates (B.Sc and B.Eng). But then well the world kinda went down the toilet and turns out the world is in a very serious financial crisis. With most companies announcing cut backs and the banking system in serious trouble, the perfect bubble seems to have burst.
This leads to my thinking to the future. There are three main options to all graduates travel, further study and getting a job. All have positive and negatives and the degree of those are going to vary from person to person. I’m going to give a short summary of what I consider to be the more important points of these three options.

  1. Travel- Arguably one of the most popular for students, the big pluses of this are that you get to well travel and see the world. To experience different cultures and see some of the most spectacular sights in the world. The downside of this is that it can be expensive and dangerous depending on the political stability of the region you are traveling to.
  2. Further Study- In the current economic circumstances this is my most probable choice. It has the advantages of allowing you to stay in the student lifestyle for a little bit longer. But also when you finally do finish and the world economy is back in a better place you will be in a much better position in the job hunt. The downside is that you have another year of exams and assignment stress. Which after three to four years most people have had enough of.
  3. Job Hunting- I can’t honestly say that even if the economic boom was still going that this would have been my first choice. I would most likely have still gone with further study. The perks of job hunting are that you get your evening and weekends back and you are no longer a poor student. The weekly pay cheque and complete lack of assignments and exams are very big pros for this option. The downside is that you lose a lot of the freedom you have in college for random road trips and the like. That while fun are really frowned upon in the workplace (Unless your boss is uber cool and wants to come with you :P )

Those are the three main options that I can think of for graduates. One of the main things that I suppose I am afraid of happening is that I end up with a desk job. I don’t know why but lately the thought of having a desk job chills me to the bone. It’s like a desk represents a cage or prison cell. I don’t know what brought this on but in the last couple of months the thought of a desk job is like a bell tolling. I think it may be because a desk represents order and to an extent a form of tradition. Whether it’s youthful naivety or a pre mid life crisis the thought of coming in everyday to sit at a desk for the day just doesn’t appeal to me. I’m sure there’s a lot of people with the same thought as me and most likely a lot of the older generation shaking their heads in dismay.

The older generation would most likely say that I am just being childish and what else would I like to do? The answer I have it that I don’t know. At the moment it’s a case of I know what I don’t want.


Anyway I think that’s enough random rambling for one night. I’ll post something up later in the moth about post grad choices, the kayaking intervarsities and I’m currently writing another short story featuring the man in black.

Published in:  on February 3, 2009 at 4:15 pm Leave a Comment
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The Man in Black

The man in black embarks on his quest across the ocean, pulled westwards by an unknown force. He heads west to the unexplored land where the only thing that is certain is that his story is coming to it’s conclusion. It is a feeling in his bones that it feels like a changing of the guards, a new breed of mercenaries is emerging younger and with no code of honour. For the last few months he has been battle worn and run down.

He’s been a long time at this, forty years next week. Forty years of killing, kidnapping and other dirty deeds. Over the years the fortune he amassed has faded, his acquaintances have faded to dust but the memories of all his deeds have remained. They exist like this dull glow just out of his vision that he can never see, but all the time giving off waves of regret and hatred. His last contract was to kipnap a local lords daughter. He knows this is a set up, the days for this type of kipnap and ransom are long past. Things are more “civilised” now, when ones honour is impeached upon the offended party simply kills the offending party. This involving of other family members is an antiquated method and one the the man in black has built a small fortune on it.

The sky clouds in and thunder booms in the distance, it seems like the saints are giving him an appropriate send off for his last contract. Some may ask how he knows that this contract is a set up. He knows it is because of the location, there is a reason why this region is known as the unexplored region. There is nothing beyond the small settlement village where the docks are.

The rain starts as the boat approaches the moorings, the fog descends from the mountains towards the village lights. The bellow of the captain interrupts his reflection on his life and past deeds. The game begins again possibly for the last time. He heads towards the village inn where the rules of the game will be laid out.

The inn has a roaring fire and a bard is playing some old melody that some of the locals are tentatively dancing to. There is an air of tension and apprehensiveness to the inn something has the village on edge they are waiting on something to happen. The contact is where he’s supposed to be in the back snug. Good she seems like a professional someone who has done this before. The contact gives him his instructions, they’re straight forward, there should be a castle or fort forty to fifty miles north west of the village. The daughter should be in there. Then the she drops a bombshell the father is the Man in Red.

Suddenly everything falls into place in the man in blacks head. That feeling of being pulled towards the village and this side of the world. That feeling that his story is reaching it’s climax. Of course it should have been so obvious to him. The man in red left the game a decade ago, ran out on an unfulfilled contract and double crossed the man in black. It was the man in blacks duty to either capture or kill the man in red. For the only time in his forty year long career the man in black had been bettered. The man in red defeated him in hand to hand combat. The code of honour that is lacking in the new breed compelled him to allow the man in red to escape.

The dawn turns the sky a fiery red and the last of the fog from the previous night is being burned away in the early morning sun. The man in black watches the women on their morning pilgrimmage to the well and the men as they start their day. One column meanders between the foot hills towards the fields and the other moves towards the docks and the fishing boats. He takes a breath and embarks on his journey towards the final confrontation and the conclusion of his story.

Published in:  on January 22, 2009 at 7:47 pm Leave a Comment
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