Wednesday, October 01, 2008

So Long, It's Been Good To Know You



As a general rule, I cannot stomach Jamie Oliver, so had not considered watching his new programme, in which he tries to teach the whole of Rotherham to cook, having read this review, however, I shall take a peek. Alternatively!

A photo essay on phone sex operators.

As it happens the Archbishop of Canterbury should stick to the Bible, because he knows nothing about Marx’s Capital.

Blues won easily at Cardiff on the weekend, but not as easily as they should have and drew a game with Derby last night which they should have won, and, as is ever the case, Blues fans cannot agree whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. My own view is that it is an OK thing, but, nevertheless, a slightly disappointing thing. 4 points from two away games is not to be sniffed at, but we seem intent on taking the lead and then sitting back and making things difficult for ourselves, which, frankly, pisses me off, regardless of the result.

I can never understand the kind of thinking which allows for a team to play attractive(ish), attacking football until they take the lead, and then go into a defensive shell. Over many years under many managers I have seen Blues do this. They go out and take teams apart, creating good chances, while the opposition, barely muster anything, then we score, and just keep passing the ball back to them and say, get past us if you think you can. If nothing else, it is piss poor to watch and, if the opposition aren't getting a sniff when we attack them, why just allow them into the game? Clearly, I know nothing.

Talking of knowing nothing, I think I have finally weaned myself off football message boards. When I first got onto the net, years ago, it was great, for an exile, to be able to seek out and share opinions with fellow Blues fans, and find news on the Blues that was not otherwise available down here in sunny South Wales. Christ, I used to drive out to Hereford of a Sunday morning on the pretext of having a nice drive out, but in reality to buy a Sports Argus. I got back the cost of the internet connection simply in the petrol money saved!

The circles I mix in have very little interest in football at all and absolutely no interest in the Blues, so it was good to be able to share the Blues obsession. I actually think those of us outside the city become even more obsessed, because we don't have the opportunity to share and vent with those around us. You quickly realise though, that a noisy minority of your fellow posters are a bit moronic and don't actually want to engage in discussion and debate, and resent any attempt on anyone else's part to do so. Still, like an addict, you carry on and you become moronic yourself. You respond to the insults. And then you stop, then you take a peek and you start again, but I think I've had enough. Life is too short, too rich and too varied to waste it engaging in meaningless dialogue with those whose sole form of entertainment seems to consist of winding people they don't even know up on football message boards.

I bet the world is glad I shared that!

The Pomegranate

Once when I was living in the heart of a pomegranate, I heard a seed
saying, "Someday I shall become a tree, and the wind will sing in
my branches, and the sun will dance on my leaves, and I shall be
strong and beautiful through all the seasons."

Then another seed spoke and said, "When I was as young as you, I
too held such views; but now that I can weigh and measure things,
I see that my hopes were vain."

And a third seed spoke also, "I see in us nothing that promises so
great a future."

And a fourth said, "But what a mockery our life would be, without
a greater future!"

Said a fifth, "Why dispute what we shall be, when we know not even
what we are."

But a sixth replied, "Whatever we are, that we shall continue to
be."

And a seventh said, "I have such a clear idea how everything will
be, but I cannot put it into words."

Then an eight spoke--and a ninth--and a tenth--and then many--until
all were speaking, and I could distinguish nothing for the many
voices.

And so I moved that very day into the heart of a quince, where the
seeds are few and almost silent.

Khalil Gibran
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