Hey,
Sorry I haven't blogged much recently. I really am. I could easily put it down to watching "Threads" (see previous blog - possibly the most depressing thing I have ever seen. Ever.) Truth be told though I have been a bit lazy in my approach to writing this blog. Why this new attitude has overcome me I am not so sure; this blog, no matter how hopeless, can still be used as a portfolio. It's not as if I haven't got stuff to write about either, because I do. I don't know, I just haven't got round to it.
The most worrying thing is that in a matter of weeks this blog will revert back to it's original state of ultra-depression. Though summer still seems like a long-shot, it is not. University - exams aside - finishes next Wednesday and after my hockey trip to Rimini at the beginning of April it is essentially Morrisons. Again. Summer number four. Oh lord.
But we will not think of such events just yet! Let's be enthusiastic! Last night, I went to my first gig in what feels like an age; You Me At Six at the o2 Academy (or Carling Academy for those who crave nostalgia but lack the sense to see the irony in it's changing of merely a sponsorship deal). The evening was splendid, I thought. You Me At Six were on fine form, and it's probably the best I have seen them live, far better than the Paramore gig.
The night was funny in other aspects, not related to the music itself. For one, watching the exponential rise of the band, in literally a matter of months, has been staggering. When I saw them at Avalanche in September it was a big-ish crowd. But last night, the o2 was sold out, like properly sold out. One of my friends started queuing at 2pm. The doors opened at seven. The night was too big for some girls, who having fell out over some issue regarding tickets/I.D./being emo started scrapping infront of everyone waiting outside. It was fine que viewing. The gig also highlighted the influence bands (and celebrity culture in general) can have on young impressionable people. Josh Franceschi, the lead singer, effectively stopped the purchasing of counterfeit merchandise last night by telling the crowd not to. It makes you wonder what he could get away with saying. For example, he could easily say "don't buy Dairy Lea, it makes my skin go all weird" and I'm sure some kids would stop eating it just for a mention on Twitter. His skills are limited, however, when he told everyone to get out of their seats, which the people on the balcony could not do. Despite the power of words, the power cannot overcome health and safety, it seems.
As I mentioned earlier, "Threads" scared the living daylights out of me. Essentially, it's what would happen if a nuclear bomb hit Sheffield. Words cannot describe how unnerving a program this is. All I can is what I said previously; watch it yourself.
I experienced the exact opposite of emotions watching "Eddie Izzard: Marathon Man". Watching a man effectively run all over Britain whilst at the same time open up to his childhood pain of bereavement, creating peace in Northern Ireland is truly inspiring, especially when you consider the blisters he has on his feet (I doubt Dr. Paisley would treat him?). The only down said to being inspired by Eddie Izzard is that you get lost in translation. Grant thought I wanted to become a transvestite. And that is not true. At all. OK? Good.
Currently on the campaign trail this week, this time for Leo Howes for GUSA (Glasgow University Sports Association) President. It's kind of a big deal, so if you are studying at Glasgow Uni and have a gym membership, please drop by the Stevenson tomorrow and vote, for David's sake? If you wish to learn more, his manifesto is available at www.tinyurl.com/leo4pres. Thanks!
DC x
p.s. I know it was a while ago but I have proof that my article on the Superbowl was in the Glasgow University Guardian! If you follow the link below you will see it in all it's glory/tiredness.
http://bit.ly/dk8RQ0
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