What does the fox say?

It’s been some time, blog. Hisashiburi. Putting one’s nose to the proverbial grindstone tends to make you ignore trivial pursuits such as this, but I hope at least my writing hasn’t suffered. The holidays were equally uneventful, except for the time I was treated to an indecent proposal by a dirty old man from China while I was on-route to the homeland. But more on that later.

When you’re having fun but time’s running out, people tell you to “savor the moment”. But how does one do that exactly? Whenever I’m in that position all I get is a slowly sinking feeling that it’s gonna be over all too soon, and I’ll be back to my dull life before I know it, which just makes me sad and wistful. The fact of the matter is I can only really enjoy myself when I am safe in the knowledge that it’s going to continue for some time, such as at the beginning of a trip or at the start of a three-month break. Sometimes I wish I could rewind myself back into the past indefinitely until I get sick of it and are ready to move on, but of course Life is a train that only stops for 5 minutes at every station and you only have time to do the necessary, which is enough for most people but not nearly enough for me.

It’s a little odd to think that though I’m in my second year in Chemistry, I’m actually in my third year in Exeter. I feel like a veteran of all the usual haunts of uni students, yet without the sense of finality that a third-year student has upon realising that he will have to move on in 9 months’ time.

Sci-fi now will be next century’s drama, action or comedy, and sci-fi in the future will be even more outlandish than anything we can think of at the moment. Lately I’ve found myself drawn towards this genre more than others, thoroughly enjoying films like Prometheus, Oblivion and the summer smash Pacific Rim. I’m a proponent of the utopia mindset rather than dystopia, so I often dream about sky cities and colonized planets light years away from Earth, and of inventions like a neural link that downloads information directly to the brain, or a backup disc to store your memories, which is admittedly pretty old hat but holds a certain 1990’s romanticism for me.

I always tell myself at the start of a new term that this year is going to be different from the last, but I always end up being drawn to the same clubs and societies, same places of entertainment and especially the same food. I guess it’s not that easy to change who you are, to the point where change only comes unconsciously, when you act on impulse more than on any kind of new year’s resolution.



The Best Concert In The World

So on the 9th of October I went to see Radiohead live in concert.

It was mindblowing.

The venue, O2 arena, was HUMONGOUS.


Later I found out it seats 20,000 people. Imma like dayum son, that’s some good shizz right thar.

Anyhow, I got there at like 3 to make sure I was in the front of the Q. And at 6, Q was in the Q.

She came up to me and give me a hug through the barrier separating us, saying not a word.

It was quite nice.

I have more pictures of the concert, but I’m not sure if I should bother uploading them. They’re pretty cool closeup shots of the band, but I doubt most of you are interested. They’re on my facebook page anyway.

The setlist was as follows:

Lotus Flower
Daily Mail
(new song)
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
There There
The National Anthem
Paranoid Android
Give Up The Ghost
I Might Be Wrong
(song probably from Pablo Honey)
Morning Mr Magpie
Street Spirit
Staircase (?)

Everything In Its Right Place

I loved them all.

The dash is there because I left early to catch a train ride home. I had practicals the next day so I absolutely had to catch it. It was a tiny shame that I couldn’t catch their swan song but the entire experience was worth it.

Peace out



Beethoven the great symphonies

Tchaikovsky the masterpieces

J.s. Bach masterpieces of baroque

Vivaldi celebration of the baroque

Chopin Piano Classics

Smetana Spirit of Bohemia

Schubert the *moledolic* (melodic) masterpieces

J. Strauss the romance of Vienna

Liszt romantic master pieces.

Tchaikovsky the masterpieces

“The onset of puberty makes no pretence at being left alone.” – G.

Bizet orchestral classics

Mozart orchestral legends


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Meeting Someone For The First Time

Time mutes the immediacy of the events that transpire. Just the other day, I was walking along, minding my business when out of the orange coloured sky, wham bam alakazam, wonderful She came by.


Her name was negligible, her stance was impregnable, her ideas were lofty with a pinch of down-to-earthness, and a set of rules that would usually be followed when it comes to meeting someone for the first time were quite, quite forgotten, in the heat of the moment, there we were connecting as though we’d known each other for ages.


Maybe we had something, I don’t know, but currently it feels as though life is a cupcake on the brink of the edge of the void, and I’m being slowly, agonisingly, praetorically pulled back from it all, and the sky is an inverted bowl of peaches which come raining down like icicles in a hailstorm.


I know, I know, that made less sense than a philosophical velociraptor with a HUGE claw thawing out the universe, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles I guess. HA.


Speaking of cookies, I’m having some now. Mmmmm, so good. With milk, and some chocolate sprinkles, heaven may quickly turn into a place of earth within 5 minutes flat of the discworld revolvement cortexus.


What I’m talking about.

Memories Of Nobody

The first thing that I remember is the ward at night. I remember talking to Q over the phone, while gazing unfocused on the street lamps outside. At night, everything looks strangely familiar, as though I was not stuck in the UK, but safely back at home. The sodium lamps are the same the world over.

The second thing I remember is the fresh scent of the air coming from outside the window of my room. The temperature was cold, but not cold enough to make me shiver in my bedclothes. I would put my hand up against the grille of the window, savouring the cool breeze wafting in from beyond.

The third thing I remember is the little lamp that would stay on at night. I used to compare it to the moon, seeing as I couldn’t see the real thing from the window of my room. It was a comforting amber colour, with a shade that directed the light in such a way that it was unobstrusive.


It was morning, or evening, I couldn’t tell. The room was bathed in a golden glow, as though lit up like the inside of a fluorescent chandelier. I felt new, energized. Rolling around on my bed, I could feel each individual wave of sensation wrap a cocoon around my body, making my hair stand on end and my fingers curl up in ecstasy.

Everything I saw around me didn’t seem to make sense. Words would not come to me as they normally would, and I struggled to encapsulate the supreme sense of oneness I had for all.

Eventually I settled for a high-pitched keening sound, and as the vibrations of my voice reverberated around the four walls of my room, I heard a reciprocal giggle that sounded like the voice of someone I knew.

Introducing The Cast

The Insecure Teenager: Am I one of those guys who compensate for a small amount of talent with a huge ego? You know, like those imams who don’t know anything, whose fallacious arguments sway the weak but have no effect on the strong.
The Washed-up Failure: Being funny isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. One can be funny without necessarily being admired. Furthermore, one cannot be funny all the time, unless one is a clown.


The Self-diagnosing Psychiatrist: I don’t know how to use illusions because I think that people will look through it immediately. It probably goes back to the conviction I have that other people know the same amount or more than me. Thus, I am let down easily, which makes me irate.


The Humble Pie-eater: I never realised I am actually pretty close-minded. It’s down to this innate inability to see things from the other person’s point of view. I used to think I was actually open-minded. But I guess I still have a long way to go.


The Egocentric: I’ve picked up this bad habit of demeaning other people in my head in order that we are more equal. If someone is very obviously more awesome than I am, and I can’t find anything at fault with him to level the playing field, I get depressed easily.
The Humble Pie-eater: What I should have done is not to bring him down to my level, but to rise up to meet his. I thought I already was doing that, but I’m actually not.


The Washed-up Failure: These bad habits are really hard to shake off.


The Humble Pie-eater: Living away from God, I’ve tried living in sin, but as far as I’m concerned I was always too chicken to do the really bad things like sex and drugs. Instead, I’ve been committing the sin of idleness, wallowing in the sin of pride, giving free reign to the sin of lust in my head, and I did not even realise it.


The Scientific Analyst: I think I see a cycle emerging. I always seem to be doing fine up until I fuck up or lose something of worth, and then my pride gets taken down a notch, I start from zero again. Intriguingly, I am happier and generally less irritated at life after going through one of these events.


All together: Is there any way to break this cycle?


The Egocentric: Or really, are the sins of pride, lust and idleness really sins? All men need to have self-worth. All men want to procreate. All men want to get the most out of life with the least amount of effort. Does this apply to the other sins as well? All men want to have possessions (avarice). All men want more than they need (greed). All men get angry sometimes(anger).


The Lazy Surfer Dude: Not quite. I don’t really want more than creature comforts. I don’t like getting angry. Well, if only half the sins apply to me, that could mean that other people find greed and avarice a problem whereas they don’t really care about sex, or power.


The Lateral Thinker: On being desperately unhappy… I never thought about it, but what if those imams are really rather desperately unhappy people?


The Humble Pie-eater: Now I know why I am so stuck up. Whatever talent I have (or had) I attributed it to myself, not to God. Thus, I grew a big head. Well, since God isn’t around any more, who do I attribute it to?


The Lateral-Thinker: On the other hand, maybe talent is to be used, not hoarded.


The Self-diagnosing Psychiatrist: I confess to having a hoarding mentality as well. Oh dear. Is this what they call avarice?


The Humble-pie eater: Maybe I should read the bible more often. Just so that the parables are more ingrained into my head.


The Scientific Analyst: The conclusions I came to about 3 years ago, that human nature is innately selfish, is false. It was a sweeping generalisation that I thought summed up the world perfectly. But the world is a lot more complicated than I thought.


The Self-Diagnosing Psychiatrist: Why did I think that at the time? I guess it stemmed from the conviction that aliens would probably think us humans as too simple-minded. I always found the thought annoying yet probably true. I always wanted to be one of those all-knowing aliens.


The Egocentric: I have always found it annoying when someone says something is complex. No, actually, I feel like saying to him, it is not objectively complex. You just think it is complex because you’re just a simple, dumb human being.


The Scientific Analyst: Maybe all the conclusions I made about the human race were merely conclusions about myself. I’ve always thought that humans were:

c)Fueled by subconscious desires
e)Easily swayed
f)Look to peers for support

But maybe they’re all facets of myself, projected onto other people.

The Insecure Teenager: To be honest, I can already see myself in all of these, and hate myself for it.
The Egocentric: I thought I was above all these things.


The Lateral Thinker: But maybe to be truly above all these things you have to be completely ignorant of them. And by that point, what’s the point?


The Scientific Analyst: By the way, the reason why I thought I was a funny guy is because I was in some funny situations, and telling it to other people, I attributed their laughter to my amazing stand-up skills, when actually it was the strength of the joke or situation that was really funny, despite my poor handling of expressing it.


All together: What now?