Hey, listen!

Hey you, stupid, what are you doing right now? Sat around, being bored? Furiously masturbating to while away the fruitility of existence? Well if it’s the former, you are in for a treat. If it’s the later, the get the hell off my blog, finish your business, clean up, wash you hands and then return for what follows.

What Follows:

In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires the demons and the forces of … No wait that’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But right now there is a band, and this band will put a smile on your face as you lean back and contemplate their sound waves. I am of course talking about Collider.

... Collider (The Band) ...

Now I used to be at university with one of the band members, so maybe I am a touch biased, but that is no excuse not to get up off your arse (actually you may need to stay seated) and begin frantically following the links provided for you below. Need more convincing? Well I took the time to speak with Collider to give you a nice introduction and hopefully prod you in the right direction:

The Line Up:

Mase: Drums

Bill: Guitar, vocals, programming

Simon: Bass

... Here they are ...

The Influences:

“Our influences are Radiohead, Sigur Ros, Goodspeed etc…” [Yes that is a quote straight from the horses (or bassists) mouth just today]

Any Other Business?:

“We make our own instruments, awesome visuals, we are also very tight and very loud.”

——————  ——————  ——————  ——————  ——————  

But wait, before you close your internet window, there is more! I know I can spin a story from time to time, but it isn’t just me who enjoys Collider, no sir! My house mates and everyone who has seen them play also adores them!

Don’t just take my word at face value, check out what these fine reviewers think:

“COLLIDER – Radiohead gun it down the slipway as Mogwai fail to hit their breaks at the junction and Sigur Ros plough straight into the whole shebang.”

- Bugbear (www.bugbearbookings.com)

“Most effective use of a nintendo DS I’ve seen by a band! Post rock guitar lines steeped with radiohead urges while pushing everything forward with one of the most energetic drummers I have seen. Hugely promising and I for one, want more.”
- Screaming Ground

“think BJORK, RADIOHEAD / PORTISHEAD with their own twist and you start to get an idea of who Collider are and what they can bring about….AMAZING”
- Vestival

“COLLIDER sound a bit like the end of this world, or the start of the next one- subtle mixes of low-fi and incredible electronic wizardry. Much of the band’s equipment has been created, and programs written by the band to create their own truly unique sound that pays homage to the idea of really original music! Really exciting stuff….!”
- Socialicious

Homework:

Home

Twitter

Facebook

Soundcould

And if you really like them (as well you should) then you can also buy stuff…

... Funk yeah! ...

Rule 374

It doesn’t matter if your socks don’t match…

... Odd socks are cool ...

The film script romance

Before you get too engrossed, this isn’t going to be a detailed analysis into the subject of how T.V. and film is ruining romance for the masses, more of a personal rant. Should the former be your bag, then I am sure a quick Google search will reveal what you are looking for. Merry hunting.

Gone with the Wind

Anyway, recently I tried the whole being set up thing again, not entirely sure why baring in mind each previous attempt at this has ended in failure (I am not sure whether my friends just have a really poor perception of the type of girl I like or whether they are simply doing it to be cruel) but I figured what the hell, it can’t hurt, right?

Now, the first thing you should be thinking is “When has the expression ‘It’s can’t hurt, right?’ ever been uttered when in some way shape or form it hasn’t in fact ‘hurt’”. None as far as I can recall [if you have experienced this, then feel free to correct me].

Asides aside, the first date was rather nice, very ‘clicky’ and chatty, got to know each other reasonably well. There was a little pressure with her having children, but quite reasonably I was not expected to be involved with them, not at least until I long way down the line and for that I was grateful. I am no where near ready for my own kids, let alone starting to integrate myself with others.

Now obviously having children is a huge responsibility, and I would never take anything away from that, least not from a single mother. Juggling baby-sitters and free time must be an absolute nightmare. So when I enquire as to a second date on a weekday evening, I didn’t go in with high expectations and sure enough she’s busy. No harm, no foul. I set about making other plans, working late and possibly a drink or two. But then a text, she’s has managed to get someone to watch the kids. Great at first glance, but oh shit, I am working late… working late + Ben = bad mood. Oh well, it all was very late notice, I’ll just let her know and we can sort something out for another time, be a little bit more organised. Oh how wrong could I be?

Four hours of being accused / shouted at for “messing her about” later, followed by discussions you would only expect the long married and bitter to have the classic “Please do not contact me again” text has been received.

I long for that fairy tale romance: Boy meets girl, they go on a crazy, random exciting adventure, fall in love and live happily ever after (of course I mean more Doctor Who than Disney), but life just isn’t like that.

Having written all this out, there appears to be no point or drive to it other than to vent my frustration. I hope I haven’t bored you too much dear reader, but I do have one simple request for you; if you know someone you think would be ‘perfect’ for me… right now I am not bloody interested!

Ode to the Irish… (Part Two)

Some of you may have seen my status update on facebook last yesterday about amusing phrases I have overheard on my trip to Ireland this week. For those of you that didn’t, here you go:

... From the facebook of Ben Chandler ...

So, day complete, I have myself a nice little meal and settle down for a nice sleep in preparation for the following day still smiling a little to myself. Today I woke up refreshed, shower, breakfast and then stroll outside to wait for my lift. No sooner am I out of the doors to the hotel that I look up and spot a green road sign. Nothing to special about that, but this green road sign was announcing in big, bold, white letters (in both Gaelic and English,) that it is a mere 10KM to the charming Irish town of Limerick. As the smile spreads slowly across my face the corner of my eye spots three businessmen striding across the car park. I cannot hear their conversation and there is nothing really notable about them until without warning and with considerable volume, the chap in the middle spouts “Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on…“

If someone doesn’t, in all seriousness, great me with “Top of the morning to you” tomorrow, I am going to be flying home a bitterly disappointed man.

This post is for [insert name here]

There is some irony in what I am about to write in so far as this is a generic post for each and every one of you about the nature of individuality.

Life is a funny old thing, it has that unexplainable way of getting on top of us and grinding us into a rut.

.

... The Bluth Company ...

When you think about it, I mean really think after having looked into loads of conflicting arguments about the nature of man and why / how we are here, all it really boils down to (ignoring religion of course) is a collection of atoms. Everything in the known universe is made of the same building blocks resulting in you, yes you, made of the same essential parts as the stars and the computer screen (or mobile device) you are currently staring at. It just so happens that a fluke that no one can explain at present has resulted in an arrangement of those building blocks that has made you, a unique and exciting possibility.

We all have little quirks and eccentricities that make us who we are, and those should be celebrated. Humans are all the same and yet so drastically different, take who you are, those crazy thoughts you might have, that inner monologue, that weird tick, whatever it is, take it, celebrate it and be magnificent.

Crimson

Crimson

...

The pitter patter of crimson rain.

Pure, fluidic poetry.

A shadow’s breath mists in the bitter air as another falls breathless to the ground.

The white tile canvas explodes with dark, vibrant red.

As it flows, the first shadow relaxes and fades into the dank of the room.

Sweet release.

Adrift

Another flash of fiction…

Adrift

... Come for a swim? ...

An expanse of still water, no sign of life, not a hint of land.

Being along here is hard.

But then: an explosion rocks the water sending our lone hero riding on the surf crest of a wave.

The little yellow rubber duck was no longer alone in the bath.

A Light Left On

... A light left on ...

I have been considering [for the past 3 years] writing a short book comprised brief works of fiction, each of 50 words or less. Below is one of my first attempts, others may follow if I get some feedback and if anyone has suggestions for titles (it’s amazing what I can write to, but without a title, I get rather stuck!) Feel free to leave me a comment of title suggestions and I shall see what I can do for you.

A Light Left On

Bleary eyed, throbbing head, stale alcohol hangs in the air. Light streams through the window, yet the light is on.

A vague feeling I need to be somewhere.

The clock flashes 00.00, but that’s unconsciously wrong.

A fumble for a watch reveals the truth; It’s past ten, and I’m late.

A Sign of the Thymes

Possibly the beginning to a short story. I originally wrote this for the Waterstone’s “What’s Your Story?” competition and although it didn’t progress past the first round, I rather like it and am pondering expanding it further.

A Sign of the Thymes

October was cold that, and the unsympathetic rain cascading over the windshield did nothing to ease his mood. The sign gradually became clearer with the grumbling of the rusty Fiesta; “The Thymes Bridge”. Pulling slowly to the side of the road, a sigh escaped the driver’s lips. Barely in his thirties, he looked as decrepit as the car; unshaven, unwashed and in dire need of sleep. The headlights dimmed, and the engine died.

Eventually he emerged, gingerly stepping from the car. He pulled the coat tight around his quivering body, a poor defence against such unforgiving weather.

Guilt had made the last three years seem like an eternity, with each visit becoming harder to bear.

Moving to the waters edge, he crept along, pushing his weary body against the elements until he reached the base of the bridge. Stooping, he began a ritual that had played out in his head endlessly, muttering a few private words to himself before tentatively heading back to the car.

Leaning against the bonnet of the car, the man’s head drooped. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I’m so sorry”. A few feet away, at the base of “The Thymes Bridge”, the wind and rain beat down on the flowers left by a man with nothing left to lose.

We were all thinking it.

... Velocirapture ...

Don’t lie to me, I know you were.

Joking aside, it did turn vaguely apocalyptic at 6pm on Saturday. For those of you who missed this, Saturday 21st May 2011 was meant to be Judgement Day. Thankfully this all turned out to be bollocks… unless no one is worthy of The Raptured… but then where are our battling demons on Earth? What a wash out.

Source: Reddit.