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Wednesday 25 March 2015

Goodbye Clarkson; burnt by his own flame


Today it was announced that Jeremy Clarkson has indeed been 'dropped by Top Gear'. In other words the BBC have sacked their most valuable asset and you can't argue that it was the only option.




I absolutely love Clarkson and it is because of his controversial humour that I watch Top Gear. I have always believed that he is the one character out of the three that leads the show. James May and Richard Hammond are necessary to assist him but you could argue they are replaceable. I don't think you will find another Clarkson and here is why I think so.

Some claim Clarkson provides a link to the old fashioned british humour that we don't see as much anymore. His attitude towards global warming is refreshing in a climate where everyone is 'green' obsessed. I am not saying that global warming is something that should be ignored but when it is being rammed down your throats it is sometimes quite nice to hear someone mocking an issue we are told will end us all.

His way of addressing the audience, his strong and controversial opinions and his sheer manner cannot be ignored and it leads us to listen to him. In a society whereby everyone in the media is trying to say something to gain popularity or to abide by political correctness, I think in Clarkson we had that one figure who did the opposite. What is unfortunate is that it is because of this that we might not be seeing him for a while.

He has had his entire career riddled with controversy which, for me at least, lead me to follow him even more. I found myself being fascinated in what he was going to say or do next. To be honest I don't really have much interest in cars or anything like that. I only watched Top Gear to see what the three did or had to say. And even though I have watched every episode to date I can't help but watch the endless repeats on Dave and it looks like that is all I will be able to do now.

However, in the end it is a huge shame that this whole thing has happened but lets face it, if you punched a colleague at work you would not expect to have your job. The BBC had been put in a position whereby they either thought of the commercial side of things or their values. Obviously the BBC prides itself of being incredibly middle minded and politically and this leads to us saying goodbye to Clarkson but only for the time being. He will be back and he will be more loved for it. Another channel will buy him and I'm pretty sure Hammond and May too and will be seeing his humour and refreshing personality on a television pretty soon.

So to finish off I say thank you Mr Clarkson for everything you have contributed to my Sunday evenings and I think most of all, smashing Piers Morgan in the face and shutting him up for a bit.

Thursday 19 March 2015

Party, police and pricks


Last Saturday our plans were to go to a university house party. I can't remember the last time I went to a house party and the rest of the group were excited for a cheap and sociable evening. We bought our booze a couple of days before and made sure we were sufficiently prepared with enough alcohol to last the evening.

On arrival we noticed that though the cab journey didn't seem to take so long, we were completely bewildered to our location in Coventry. The house looked nice enough and when we entered we found that though it looked relatively large on the outside, it was incredibly cosy on the inside. We lay our boxes of beer and cider outside so that they would remain cool and went inside to see what was what.

There was only around 20 people at the party at this point, 12 of which were us, so we decided to make our own entertainment by drinking and talking. Some individuals scouted the girls present and for those of us who were in a relationship, laughed at their disappointment that only 3 were actually present.

One individual of our group, John, had left to discuss his gym progress with an obvious stoner who was more interested in talking about how high he had been the night before. We again laughed as he looked at us from the other room quite confused into why we weren't going in to talk with them. The truth was we were quite happy with our own company. Furthermore, the guy in question loved singing My Chemical Romance whenever he had the chance and I can't be dealing with someone like that. .

Everything was going smoothly. We had started to make conversation with people we did not know and were getting involved with other groups. The party was starting to gain more people at this point and the alcohol consumed was starting to take effect. So as far as house party goes it was all going quite well. Until...

The doorbell rang and the host answered the door. Rico's (the host) face looked at those outside the house with a sort reluctant smile and welcome. Chris and I, who were sat in the other room watching, could tell that something wasn't quite right.

Four guys entered. Three of the four were incredibly round and the fourth looking like he hadn't eaten in a week. Two of the three round people were wearing polo tops which were clearly two sizes too small and the third fatty was wearing a coat, to our pleasing as two fabric stretchers was quite enough.

They came in and immediately we knew they weren't students. Not because of their appearance so much, though this did have some influence, but the very manner in which they waltzed in shouting and swearing with no regard for anyone else. Aaron, who had been school mates with the host had warned us that these people could come and stated they were 'massive knobs' and the only reason they were invited was because the host felt obliged to.We ignored the Jeremy Kyle contestants and left them to their own doing as we attempted to go on as we had done before.

About two hours later I was informed that a police van was outside and I decided to investigate. There was indeed a huge and full police van outside the front of the house. It turned out that one of the fabric stretchers had thrown a bottle outside, awoken a resident with children and racially abused them. On confronting the group I said 'why would you do that in a residential area?'. Their reply was 'it's a house party, got to have some fun'. I decided they were not worth the reply and left them to the host Rico.

It turned out that due to Rico's 'kindness' he could not tell them to leave. Chris and I insisted that if he wanted the party to be a success they would have to go otherwise the police would return after they politely warned us to not let it happen again.

Another hour later I got tapped on the shoulder by Abbie.

'The police are back again and one of the fat kids has just slammed the door in their face.'

Brilliant...

Next thing I know three police officers came round the back of the house into the garden. Two were in the house and around eight lined the entrance.

Not surprisingly they asked us to leave and that party was done. It was 1:30 am by this point but we had then planned to be there till the early hours of the morning. We picked up our existing drinks, most of mine had then been stolen, and headed through the house to leave. To my amazement the most stretchiest of fabric stretchers was trying to argue with police and questioning him on the law. The police officer looked at him with some amusement as we all did. The fat prick seriously thought he was better than the policeman!

I did ask why we had been asked to leave and the police officers were incredibly friendly and helpful in describing that they had two complaints and in a residential area that means two strikes and you're out. We completely understood and they knew who the culprits were but they apologised for having to end our night and gave us taxi phone numbers.

Once we returned home we were all quite annoyed that the pricks had gotten their way so we went and bought some greasy food and drunk the last of our beer. Chris was on full rage mode and ranted about how much he hated them for a good two hours. Even now if you bring the topic up his face goes a little pink and he goes 'argh', inhales and he's off again.

Having a party shut down by the police can show that the party was bouncing. This time it was not. It was just a few ignorant and thick skulled twats that believed that with size came confidence. It was a shame as everything was starting to get going and we were enjoying ourselves. But I think the biggest regret was that we hadn't even had the time to see one of the single lads make a complete tit of himself with one of the poor and unexpecting ladies.

Monday 16 March 2015

How coursework lead to the discovery of the creepy housemate


Though this blog will most likely go out during mid-afternoon it is important to establish that it begun at 1:36am.

The reason for this is that my body clock over the past week has become completely distorted because of that old foe... the coursework deadline. And what better way to spend this peculiar time of night than writing a blog about the state it has left my mind in and what I have discovered harbouring in the house.

Firstly, I understand that some irritating and patronising few reading this might state 'but Matt, you shouldn't have left it to last minute' (goes out specifically to my dad who loves making this point). Yes it was set ages ago, but due to seminars on novels I am writing about having only recently happened, I wasn't going to begin the work to find out I had been wrong and needed start all over, DAD.

I have currently spent 10 hours in three days in the library. Might not sound like a lot but considering the other 62 hours were spent reading on relevant academia on the work done in those 10 hours, I think I have balanced it quite well. Reading academia for those not familiar with the term just means reading published articles on your essay topic to realise you cannot write anything near as good.

I much prefer coursework to exams and English does favour this. For example for the whole of my second year I have not had to endure one exam to my relief; mainly because I am crap at them.

But the problem with having an extensive piece of work is that it has the great ability to change your patience from a solid 8 to a complete zero. Your diet will become incredibly pizza orientated and will screw with your sleeping pattern. Even now it has got to 1:53 am and I am still wide awake.

Now the time is 16:52 as I finish it up and though it has been a few days since the deadline I have found that my sleep is still a little muddled. However, I have found that one certain individual awakens at this time of night (around 12am) and goes about his 'nightly' life.

We have someone living with us who never socilaises with us and the only time we see him is when he is skyping his American girlfriend, to which he attempts to imitate her accent with complete cringeness. His actual name will be hidden but that doesn't matter as we refer to him as Paddy, not that he knows this... The reason behind this name is because of Patrick Swayze who played a ghost in the film 'Ghost', a rather peculiar nickname but certainly has relevance.

In the middle of the night I hear him ponder downstairs to the kitchen whilst his irritating and fake American accent is in its most confidence. I hear the odd 'I love you baby' followed by an incredibly sloppy kiss sound or sometimes if he is feeling rather intimate 'what was that puppy?'. I lie in bed in complete horror that anyone could possibly act in this way.The nearest I get to imitating my Polish girlfriend is by shouting 'eeeshh meeesh' in a Borat accent to describe how the Polish language is thought to by the English, or maybe just me.

I struggle to understand how anyone can live with others without attempting to talk to them or even acknowledge them. We might be a group of guys who constantly take the piss out of eachother but we are a friendly bunch.

I am now forcing myself to wake up earlier so I can go to sleep before he wakes. Mainly so I don't have to endure his poorly executed American accent claiming that he is so in love with her that he feels the need to put his mouth right up to the camera to slobber... yes he does actually do this.

I get that not everyone wishes to socialise with certain people but come on! You can't stay in your room for the entirety of time doing things in front of a camera I am pretty sure would be illegal in most countries knowing of his character.

Yet even though he comes across as an nocturnal 'thing', he has succeeded where the rest of the group has failed. He possess something that usually makes someone an integral part of any friendship group. He has the 'nickname'. And for that he has some respect but I highly doubt he will be making the most of that come tomorrow when all the 'paddies' will be out drowning themselves in Guinness on his name day, St Patricks Day.

So tomorrow I feel it might be appropriate to raise a glass of the black nectar to honour Lord Paddy of the 10th floor and all of his creepy mannerisms. He might not ever speak to us but he has sure lead to us lot giggling and in a way contributing to our happiness.


Wednesday 4 March 2015

Why student fees make sense


For most students when they are asked about student fees they are usually quite happy to criticise them without fully thinking it through. It is true that other countries pay far less when it comes to higher education. It is also true that if a Scot was to study in his homeland it would be free, yet if you were from anywhere else, it would cost. That by all accounts does seem completely ridiculous but I do believe that by shouting at politicians and universities about the £9,000 fee (not all courses) you need to take a step back to realise why they are doing it.

Firstly, they're not doing it to put us in massive debt and to cover the problems certain bankers have made in the last 10 years. The simple truth of the matter is so that universities can improve.

It is a common misconception that the actual study fee goes to the government. It doesn't! It goes to the university you are attending. That means that they can invest and improve so that when you apply for a job in the future they can look at the uni and go 'that's a good university'. It isn't going back into a complicated system which the government uses for benefits, the NHS, paying the EU or some other matter people love to moan about.

I am very lucky to be at a university that has clearly invested extremely well over the last 10 or so years. Coventry Uni has shot up the league tables since I have been here and in my first two years it has been voted Modern University of the Year 2014 & 2015. This doesn't just come from well planned lectures and good grades.

Yes the quality of the teaching and the classifications of degrees does have an influence, that's why Cambridge and Oxford are always up the top. However, it is not always what you have on a piece of paper that gets you a job or whether you went to fancy balls and have a sophisticated and frankly irritating accent and opinion on the world.

Ed Miliband has recently announced he will lower tuition fees to, if I am correct, £6,000 a year if he is voted in. This is probably a way for him to get younger voters to vote for him as everyone else has given up. Furthermore, he is willing to make these changes DESPITE last year having one of the highest recorded amounts of applications for university study. I can't see the logic in making this change if the money is not deterring students to going to university. He claims he didn't have that debt when he finished his degree and we shouldn't either... But to be honest Ed, you didn't have to worry so much about the money when you came out.

I do believe lowering tuition fees is a good idea if  the current fees raise a real question on the possibility of someone going to uni. It is clearly not doing that at the moment and to be honest if you have gone to any student finance talk, you will be aware that it does not cripple you when you start working and that paying back is doable.

I am not someone who has a wealthy background and has no money worries whatsoever. The idea of paying £££'s back when I am older is a horrible thought but I knew that was going to happen when I was applying to study. It is easy to moan and say 'we shouldn't have to pay'. That is right, but you don't have to go to uni to get a decent paid job. Going to uni is a sacrifice and a risk but it is one I have always been willing to take. And if it means that I have to pay back a fraction of my salary when I'm older so that universities can improve now then so be it. If putting yourself in debt is such a big problem then don't go to uni, simple as that. If you are at uni now and moaning then question how your university is funded and where the money comes from to pay for the academic professionals. Nothing is free in the world and if I am to spend a lot of money on something, my education isn't a bad investment, especially when I haven't had to pay a penny until uni.


Monday 2 March 2015

Tomorrow by the side, yesterday over the road


In a moment of what seemed just like a usual day, she stood there next the tree next to the road. The tree was large, huge in fact, and its roots had distorted the concrete beneath her. Its very source of life had destroyed the concrete and made all man made structures look weak and pointless. Yet she stood there with her arm out with a small boy holding it. The boy epitomised the term ignorance is bliss. He looked up at the big tree and was in awe of its size, not knowing what damage had been done beneath. The branches looked alive in the wind and though bear with the season it looked more human than it had in any month of any year. He just looked and began to feel confused to whether the tree was more alive than the woman he was with for she had no expression and was motionless. Her stance was regular. She held the boy's hand in one and the pushchair in the other. Her face was terrible. It wreaked of misery yet it looked plain with no expression. It was as if the tears of previous days had scarred her face with terminal sadness.

She didn't look at the boy at all. She didn't look ahead at the man approaching her. She just looked over the road. She was still and made no body movement or change of facial expression. She was fixated on the building that was across the road. The building had no natural beauty whatsoever. It was just a plain building but it was what was inside the building that trapped her. She looked at the large pieces of stone with carvings that were behind the buildings large and revealing windows. The carvings said 'forever loved' or 'a wonderful husband, father and brother'. The words, though sympathetic, burnt her. Every letter was as bad as the next only because it had relevance to her current situation. She knew one of these stones would be squeezed in the earth in the coming days, but she didn't believe it was the correct way to say goodbye. She believed that something as cold and bleak as stone was disgustingly ironic for its purpose. And though she would constantly change the flowers and make sure some life was there, people would be more interested on what was said on that stone.

The man walking down the road was now very close to her. It was only when he was a few feet away she sort of snapped back into reality and said to the boy 'look at how big this tree is'. The boy was happy she had the same opinion as him and now they both went to the tree to see how hard its bark was. She showed enthusiasm for the boy and he was loving it with questions on how old it could be. She simply replied 'very old' or 'older than me', this made the boy chuckle and she would tap him on the back of the head because of his playful cheekiness.

They stayed by the tree for a couple of minutes and carried on up the road with the boy in one hand and the pushchair in the other. She would keep talking to the boy to keep him amused but the boy was too young to understand the pain behind her kind words. How when he spoke she would barely listen with her mind elsewhere. Her mouth would smile to him but her eyes would scream for yesterday to be back.