The pile of books you can see to the left is testament to the reading crusade I went on over the past couple of months.

They are (from the top)
Stalking The Angel (Robert Crais, Orion), Bono on Bono (Michka Assayas, Hodder), The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling (Lawrence Block, No Exit Press), The Screwtape Letters (CS Lewis, Harper Collins), Hush Money (Robert B Parker, No Exit Press), Sunset Express (Robert Crais, Orion), The Forgotten Man (Robert Crais, Orion), The Five People You Meet in Heaven (Mitch Albom, Time Warner), Belfast Confidential (Colin Bateman, Headline), Redeeming Creatures (David Williamson,), This is for Real (George Bates, Ambassador), The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Mark Haddon, Vintage), Home from the Vinyl Café (Stuart McLean, Granta) Not included in the photo are Hostage (Robert Crais, Orion) and Long Way Down (Nick Hornby, Penguin)


My A-level English Lit buddy ("I think Shakespeare’s a lot like Tarantino") has created a list of his films of 2006 (perhaps a little prematurely) so I thought I would create a similar list of my books of 2006. Now very few of these titles actually came out this year but they are all titles I have read in the last eight or nine months.


History as it should be award
1066 and All That – WC Sellar & RJ Yeatman
If events didn’t happen as they suggest in this book they should have. Hugely amusing and informative (even if it is mostly lies) This should be on the GCSE syllabus.

Knowledge that you don’t even know you don’t know of the year award.
March Hares and Monkeys Uncles – Harry Oliver
This really opened my eyes – I thought I knew all about where language came from until I read this. You want to know where a particular phrase came from and you’ll find it here.

Chance to suck up to university tutor/novelist award.
The Garden of Eden All Over Again – Jude Collins
I only bought it because I used to be taught by the author and he gave me a good evaluation. Having said that I really got into it and found the Irish landscape recognisable and realistic – which can’t often be said.

Only overrated because it was rated so highly 2006
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Hamil
You’ve all heard of this story. Its wonderful, its original. Hamil gave a disturbingly recognisable portrayal of a kid with asperger’s. I really enjoyed it. But it wasn’t as great as the hype suggested.

Addictive movie script novels 2006.
The Elvis Cole Series – Robert Crais
I wrote an entire rant about these before. Read it here.

American private investigator novel of the year
Hush Money – Robert B Parker
You thought my Crais addiction would have me giving him this award as well? Parker shows Crais how it should be done. However this book has also been nominated for the ridiculously short chapters and weird line spacing book of the year – Do people really have such short attention spans that they can’t read more than three pages at a time?

Surreal mix of traditional myth and period drama in one award.
Villa Incognito – Tom Robbins
I got confused after page two but then really got into it. A refreshingly original way of presenting ancient myth – Much better than the rest of the story.

Sentimental if flawed view of the afterlife award
The Five People You Meet in Heaven - Mitch Albom
Lovely tale. Easy to read and a real feel good story.

The blatant plug award
Redeeming Creatures – David Williamson
Trying not to be biased – I found this little piece of inspiration writing very easy to read. Witty, interesting and challenging. Buy it. Now. It may just change the way you view life.

The ‘end it now’ award for a series that needs a conclusion.
Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction – Sue Townsend
Reasonably enjoyable romp through current affairs. I just think it will date quickly and Sue isn’t finding it as easy to find the voice of an adult male.


And finally


My book of 2006 (so far)
The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling - Lawrence Block
This is my favourite book I’ve read this year (so far.) It made me long to be rich enough to fund a film version starring Kevin Spacey. Here we have a thief with a difference solving a crime with a difference. Witty, intelligent, fast paced – and with a climax Agatha Christie would have been proud of.


If you have read any of these I’d love to hear whether you agree or disagree with what I have to say about them. Please comment with some recommendations of your own. And don’t forget to add your views to Dave’s film post.

party Politics - small style

Schools can be very funny places – even without kids. In our area a group of local schools get together each year for a conference before term starts to share ideas and to inspire each other for the year ahead. A wonderful time when we can embrace teachers from competing schools as one of us – comrades in arms. Except it never works out like that.

Schools are political (with a small p) in a way that (surely) no other industry is Grassroots teachers like myself aren’t the problem – we love the chance to get together to bitch about red tape, bureaucracy and our respective leaders. It’s our respective leaders who act like playground bullies fighting turf wars. It happens everywhere but never more so than in our town where the schools are in each other’s backyards and, as such, are forced to work closely together. One big partnership – except who’s the senior partner?

Candidates include the:

Grammar School Principal – excellent credentials and has the advantage of highly motivated high achieving school population behind him. Loyal and supportive parents are another plus. On the minus side some elements might believe that a large, successful school like his don’t need to work with minnows like the rest, let alone lead a partnership.

High School Principal – Publicity hungry and innovative he is the most vocal of the candidates. What his school lacks in academic excellence is made up for by his eagerness to jump into any pilot scheme going. He loves being a guinea pig and the education board love him for it.

Special School Principal – Lacks many of the restraints imposed on bigger players. However system is a little removed from what the rest are used to. Not really big enough to weld much influence.

Catholic School Principal – Excellent communicator who has the ability to act as a mediator style leader. Lacks ambition though and is happy to watch the rest fight it out.

In reality we can really concentrate on the main players, the grammar and high school principals. One has just finished his stint as chairman of the partnership and passed the role on to the other – grudgingly. What makes this battle even more interesting is the fact that these two men obviously don’t even like each other, never mind get on.

And so I return to our little conference – I watch the two of them (each with their respective lieutenants by their side) trying to adjust a data projector for a PowerPoint presentation. Neither of them satisfied with the way the other has it set up. Each trying to prove himself master of even the little things. I picture the two of them as alley dogs fighting over a used chip paper. And I smile because I know this image will get me through another very boring conference.

full marks in my view

what a difference a word makes.

The summer holidays have come to an end - I needed comfort food. In northern ireland the best comfort food you can buy is a cheesy chip or a chip n' cheese. This classy carb-fest is a lot tastier than it sounds and a lot less healthy. As you eat it you picture your heart clogging - but all the time it's thanking you. Yup, it tastes divine... right up to the point where, about two thirds through, it losses its appeal and tastes like oily, greasey cholesterol with a side order of saturated fat.

I favour it flavoured with hot chilli sauce - the burning sensation feels like penance for the harm I'm causing my health. Today, however I made a mistake. They said they only had sweet chilli sauce - I said fine.

No, it really wasn't fine.
If you think the sound of greasy, curdling cheese melting over greasy chips sounded bad try adding greasy, pink, sickly sweet, curdling sweet chilli mayo to the mix. I haven't recovered yet. I have tried everything from chewing coffee beans to swilling tequila to get rid of the taste.
How can adding the word 'sweet' to something make it so vile. It hurt my addled brain. Sugar sweet, sugar good, honey sweet, honey good, maple syrup sweet, maple syrup good. Sweet Chilli with cheese and chips sweet... really not good.

Let this be a warning to those who like to mess with the english language - ignore words, even pleasant ones, at your peril.

what a difference a name makes.

I was having one of those days today. Too many things on my mind. I was still mourning the lose of the great Roger Federer to the great whingeing bar of soap that is Andy Murray in the Cincinnati Masters last week and trying to think of something to type up for my blog when I stumbled across an online article abusing 'Roger' for a shoddy performance that made the author feel 'physically sick.'

"A bit rough" I thought, "A bad performance maybe, an offday undoubtedly, but it'll all be forgotten in a month or so. He's still the greatest tennis player to ever walk on a court." I got more and more wound up until I was at the point where I had to do something. I looked up the article again to try and find an email address or something that I could use to provide constructive criticism. As I read through it again I realised my mistake.

The article wasn't berating Roger Federer - it was tearing apart a certain young man by the name of Kevin Federline. Easy mistake to make - if you can't read. Federer is a tennis genius, born in the same city as Karl Barth (just for you Dave) who is famous for speaking three languages fluently, oh and being the world number one tennis player. Federline is a dancer who is famous for marrying Britney Spears. Federer is the founder of a foundation that helps disadvantaged kids in South Africa. Federline ran off with Ms Spears while his ex was about to give birth to his child. About five months ago Federer was appointed a Goodwill Ambassador for UNICEF, Federline wants to be an ambassador for Coke:

"You know I've been f---ing publicizing their f---ing asses for f---ing years
now. I think it's time for them to f---ing give me some loot," he says. "It
could be great too, 'cause [Britney] was repping Pepsi, and I could be repping
Coke."

Yep, you could say these two guys don't have a great deal in common. And yet in all honesty I can't really judge either one of them. I don't know them. I know what the papers and web say about each - and I know who wins the PR battle - but who knows, maybe KF is a real sweety at heart. I sort of hope he is.

Ah'm gonna start me a war before church time.

English Girl said...
Im just passing through and haven't read all of the above comments. I just wanted to say how comforting it is to know that the christians are still at each others throats! I'm not christian. If I met Jesus I'd probably do anything to get to stay with him. But I'd do even more to be kept away from you lot.

Apparently 97% of wars are religion based. 65% of people are only willing to give to Charity if they feel it is not going to be used to influence the religion of those it is going to help. 76% of clergy in christian denominations felt that theirs was the one Jesus would recommend. 89% of clergy said that they would kick a member of the clergy of a competing church if they could do it anonymously. Really? No, I made those all up. Still people don't seem to have a good perception of Christianity as a way of life.

What if anything are we doing for people who view christians the way 'English Girl' does - that'd be the large part of the liberal press, a lot of middle class urbanites, and, more importantly, most of my pupils.

music while you...

Browsing the internet for an mp3 player I can't actually afford until I get paid again sometime mid-October I came across a common issue with such devices. It turns out they have a worrying affinity with toilet water. The little blighters apparently like nothing better than to jump off the side of the sink as you're brushing you teeth while listening to Nina Simone and dive into the murky depths of your toilet bowl. There are web pages devoted to this and how you can go about rescuing and resuscitating your little white music buddy if the worst happens.

Now personally I'm inclined to believe the best solution to this is - DON'T BRING YOUR IPOD INTO THE BATHROOM. But I am obviously not seeing the big picture - looking outside the fishbowl - seeing a problem as an opportunity - or any other similar management speak.

Luckily there are people out there who have put their minds to solving this desparate situation and have created not one but two items you can purchase for moments like this. The first is the rescue package - a long plastic rod with which you can bring the lost item out of the water without plunging your hand in. The second is a preventative measure - you don't have to perch your beloved on the edge of anything if you use this delightful Ipod - dock - and - toilet - roll - dispenser - in -one.

Those clever folk from the US have put their heads together and come up with the iCarter iPod Toilet Roll. This device will keep your iPod safe while you do your business - but it will do so much more. Integrated moisture free speakers (2 tweetor and 2 woofers) provide great quality sound and remove the need to be wired up to the device, the dock will recharge your batteries while it plays... oh, and it even dispenses toilet paper for when you're finished. Can anyone want for more?

For anything between £50 and £75 this little item could be yours. Take a look at what one happy customer had to say:

I've got to admit my first reaction was to laugh. But when my wife suggested I sit on my throne and listen to Ravel's Bolero I knew she was on to something.
This iPod Toilet roll is actually FANTASTIC in my bathroom. Those long hot soaks in the tub became a whole lot more soothing with my favorite music playing in the background. Some visits it's "Splish Splash I Was Taken A Bath" and at other times "The Long And Lonesome Road" seems more appropriate. I'll let you figure out how I match my activity to the song. Anyway, I've really enjoyed this well made, well designed, beautiful iPod docking station. And what a conversation piece. I'm hear to tell you nothing in my house can top it!

If you want one, need one, have t'have one NOW. Pop over to Ipod World and be one of the first to own one when it's released in the uk. Maybe you could come up with a list of music you could listen to while... well, you know, in the comments. As for me, part of me is disturbed by this and the other part really wants one. But I don't own an Ipod so it doesn't matter.

our survey says "NART NAW"

I generally read three papers a day. At least one tabloid, one broadsheet and a random pick. It's not that I feel a desire to keep up with what is going on in the world or that I long for balanced knowledge. I just want to read about all the ridiculous surveys that fill leftover news space. There's a new one everyday. I love them - either they state the ridiculously obvious (87% of people believe Apple Mac charge more for their computers simply because they look good) or come up with a completely unbelievable result to gain publicity. They range from the faux serious (who would you vote for if all the respective candidates had sex changes) to the... frankly bizarre.

Yesterday was a particularly good day for surveys. Two caught my attention immediately. The first was the radio times list of worst ever programmes. These are the same respected experts who discovered that Lorraine Kelly had the sixth most loved voice on TV... ?!?! Today's survey was widely publicised in all areas of the press; tabloid, broadsheet and broadcast. It was mainly just another excuse to show pictures of Keith Chegwin unclothed, as his show Naked Jungle won the honour of being named the worst show in history (This despite the fact that it gave Channel 5 their highest viewing figures to that point - what does that say about our viewing discernment?) Here are the top ten (or bottom ten) as compiled by TV “expert” John Naughton (accompanying comments are his, not mine)

The top 10 Worst Bristish TV Shows
1) Naked Jungle - Cheggers bears all with a bunch of naturists
2) Minipops - Music videos with children in make up
3) Triangle - Soap opera about a ferry
4) Quckfire Balls - Bingo style gameshow
5) Annie's Bar - Dire soap set in parliament watering hole. A Prince Edward production
6) Wright Here, Wright Now - Ian Wright: great frontman for Arsenal, not for music show
7) Love Thy Neighbour - comedy about black couple living next to white bigot
8) Thomas The Tank Engine and Friends - Ringo Starr's narration "nauseating"
9) Through the Keyhole - Lloyd Grossman in celebrity homes
10) A Year in Provence - "Disastrous" Peter Mayle adaption

Mr Chegwin didn’t seem too worried about the result:

"I think it's an honour - it's something to be proud of that people are still talking about it now, but I knew it would come back to haunt me again one day".

He also made a comment about how he only had a small part in the success of the show – perhaps an unfortunate choice of words.

The other survey I found fascinating was a little harder to find. It was to be located in a tiny portion of a column on page eleven of a single tabloid paper. It shocks me that it wasn’t more widely reported. This was a survey carried out to discover whom women fantasise about. It’ll come as no shock to you that firemen came high up and that politicians were down among the likes of milkmen further down the league. I myself was surprised to see who came out on top – gardeners. The paper put it down to the desperate housewives effect. I have several friends who are gardeners (though they call themselves landscape gardeners) and I would personally be shocked if anyone (other than their wives) fantasised about them – no disrespect guys. To make matters worse builders came second (must be the bum crack) But the biggest surprise of all was who carried out this survey.

So who, I hear you ask, carried out this piece of scientific research? Ugov? ICM? Gallup? No, it was carried out by none other than Budget Van Insurance?! Why?

It makes no sense to me. The Radio Times survey was relevant – even if the press release was a little self defeating; I no longer need to actually buy the magazine – the full results have been published everywhere. What have women’s fantasies got to do with van insurance? Do women fantasise about van insurerers? Or even van drivers? Maybe women van drivers risk damaging their vehicles by fantasising while driving down the M2. It boggles.

Maybe I’m just bitter that special needs teachers weren’t up there. I would have imagined that, as caring and obviously sensitive types, we’d be challenging at the top of the table. What’s wrong with you women?

From Teen Obesity to Bridget Jones in Three Easy Steps

The word obesity has been used with virtual obsessive-compulsive regularity in the media over the past year. In the next few days the government will release a statement that something will have to be done about fitness levels or things will get worse (seriously?) They’ve pulled out some statistic claiming that unless drastic action is taken 33% of men in the UK will be seriously overweight in 4 years. Where does the four year deadline come from? And will someone please define seriously overweight. At what point does fatness go from being funny to being no laughing matter? Now that would be a government statement that would get my undivided attention. They could use a photo of Vanessa Feltz along with the word “funny” and then another of Rick Waller labelled “not funny.” I think they should run with it.

I am obese. I am 5 stone over what is considered healthy for my height. That’s a lot. I hate the fact that I am so fat and unhealthy; and if I had an ounce of self-respect and discipline I’d do something about it. I’m just not sure that the government saying that something has to be done about my weight is going to make me run to the gym any faster.

Most of the ideas being batted around seem to involve targeting children. Teenage obesity is right up there with teenage pregnancy as the scourge of the western world. The ideas can be split, I believe, into three categories:

1
Target the fatties: Okay, maybe that was a less than subtle description, but that is in essence what it boils down to. The ideas include spot weigh-ins and programmes of healthy eating and exercise specifically for overweight kids. There is good theory behind this. Overweight kids aren’t being catered for by conventional PE lessons. I remember vividly what it was like to be picked last for games and listening to the PE teacher telling the whole class that myself and two other pupils would struggle with a particular lesson because we “are carrying a lot of extra weight.” Not nice. Fat camps have proved a great success and have helped a lot of kids with their self-esteem as well as their body shape. My problem with implementing this in mainstream education is that it will undoubtedly lead to labelling overweight kids as different from the rest; working in the LSU as shown me how dangerous this can be.

2
Whole school: I lean more towards a whole school policy on health – including healthy eating and activity. Our school moved to a swipe card system for catering a few years back. We are not, however, not making the most of its possibilities. Think of discounted fruit and vegetables being subsidised by a premium for greasy junk. Think of award points for healthy choices. Think of pupils being taught about ways of improving their fitness rather than just why they need to do it. Think about individual targets without alienating the fat kids.

3
Jamie Oliver: Put Jamie, Bono and Bob Geldof in a room and surely there would be world peace within an hour.

As for me? Well I know I have to do something about my fitness. I have ideas and I have plans. I have thought about recording my weight on this thing on a weekly basis as an incentive. I’m not sure – not because of the humiliation of it all – more because I’m scared of sounding like Bridget Jones. I used to have an ex and the only bad thing I could tell you about her is that she used to write entire letters in Bridget J language. VV annoying. If that ever happens to me please put me out of my misery.

I'm addicted to elvis cole

I don't want to be. It pains me to admit it to educated people like yourself. I am trained in English Literature on both sides of the atlantic. I like to think I know what makes good literature and what makes trash-lit. Robert Crais may be an incredibly successful author but he is hardly high art - and yet I can't get enough of his writing.

For those of you who don't know, Robert Crais is the author of the best-selling Elvis Cole novels. He grew up in Louisiana and started off writing short stories and making home movies (sound familiar? well, maybe not the Louisiana bit.) After moving to Hollywood he wrote scripts for Cagney and Lacey (Woohoo!), Hill Street Blues and Miami Vice (The non-Colin Farrell version.) Eventually he created the character of Elvis Cole, a rather sharp talking Hollywood Private Investigator, for a stand alone novel called The Monkey's Raincoat. But one novel was never going to be enough and the Elvis Cole series began, and ten books in shows no sign of stopping. He does write other non-Cole novels, you may have heard of Demolition Man or Hostage (didn't they make that one into a movie? - maybe somebody can update me)

So far so good - but it gets even better for Crais. He's had books on the New York times Best Seller List, Beach book of the week and Page turner of the week for People magazine; He's been nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award and the Edgar Award among aothers; He's won the Dilys Award for mystery novels, the Shamus Best PI Novel Award and the Antony Award for Best Paperback Publication; he's even been nominated for an Emmy.

So what is the problem? Well to be frank I don't like most of his characters; he underdevelops some of the main players and overdevelops the bit-parters; he tries to hard to be descriptive and ends up detailing every turn off in every road journey his character takes (do we really need to know the road names?) he signposts clues to the plot in very obvious ways; he takes huge diversions which have no relevence to the story; his subplots are trite; he doesn't trust the reader to pick up any clever touches or sarcastic comments without pointing them out; he stereotypes race despite the fact that his, also heavily stereotyped PI protaganist, is politically correct to the point of nausea [deep breath] He is so intent on maintaining the series that his conclusions are generally always unsatisfying; when Cole cooks a meal we get a full ingredient and method recipe for the meal; Cole's sickly relationship with Lucy wastes valuable reading time that I will never get back. The thing I like to dislike the most is the way every restauant Elvis Cole enters is descibed in minute detail along with a glowing review of the food (Robert Crais must get the best seat in every restaurant in LA) I do like the cat. Cole's cat is cool.
And yet I'm hooked. I can't get enough of Robert Crais' writing and, specificly, the Elvis Cole stories. It all started when someone dumped a pile of books in the staffroom with a note saying "free to a good home" I picked up a couple of novels I'd heard of and a random pick. That random pick was Sunset Express - number six in the series. I left it at the bottom of the pile of holiday books I'd bought, stolen, borrowed and didn't expect much from it. When I did eventually read it I tutted and winced my way through it. In my mind I imagined using it to point out pitfalls a creative writer might make (I often imagine being a lecturer.) I sighed a relieved sigh when I made it to the end. I got in my car, drove to Waterstones and bought another. I don't know why but I had to find out more about this hawaiian shirt wearing PI with the attitude ridden cat. Three weeks later and I have now read four of the series and am working my way through number five. I have no intention of stopping there. I'll have read all ten by Christmas and be waiting impatiently (the way I do for the release of each season's Scrubs on DVD) for the next one to come along... and there will be a next one. I read the latest last week and it had, as ever, an unsatisfying end. I don't know exactly how Crais will end the series but I'm confident he'll make it clear to us all that he has when he does.

Mr Crais, if by some fluke you ever stumble across this, please don't be offended by my dismissal of your work. You may not be alongside the greats in my estimation but you have something that very few authors have, something I can't describe. I can't describe it because I don't understand it. As soon as I do I'm going to make myself very rich.

bloggers beware

Who’d have thought it would be a conservative supporter who would find himself in hot water over freedom of speech issues. More than hot water in fact. Inigo Wilson has been suspended from his job over comments he made in a Conservative party supporting blog.

Looking at some of the things he wrote made me wince despite the obvious tongue-in-cheek tone of the entry. One man’s sense of humour is another man’s fatwa. His comments were unwise at best, deeply offensive at worst. Still, it’s a free country and we have a right to our opinion. Not quite. As complaints rolled in his employers (ironically communication company Orange) changed their stance from “Though we respect the right of our employees to do so, Orange does not in any way hold or express opinions on such matters, therefore the article you referenced does not in any way represent the views of our organisation.” to “Sorry Inigo, we’re scared of bad publicity so we’re going to have to make it look like we take action over things like these – you’re suspended” – those may not have been their actual words.

Again I distance myself from the crass comments Wilson made in his post but I have to admit it worries me that people would go so far as to contact his employers to complain about what he wrote on a non-company website. He, presumably, has support from the fellow members of his online community – and I would think that when the storm blows over he will be reinstated (after a suitable in-house investigation of course) with little more than a rap on the knuckles. I don’t worry about Mr Wilson in the slightest – he may even look back on his moment of infamy with fondness in years to come – I worry about me.

Promise me, dear readers, if we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear or at least keep your revenge to writing scathing replies and maybe bitching about me in your own blogs – don’t look up the department of education phone number. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and SNT shall restore amends.

the townland of the cow

I love Ballymoney. It is sort of my closest town – well, joint closest along with Coleraine and Portrush. It is as typical North Antrim as you can get. It is as different from the big towns as you can get. I had forgotten just how good it is to sit in this colourful leafy North Antrim settlement on a sunny day and consider the meaning of life. I went to school in Ballymoney, back then I hated it and took every opportunity possible to jump over the wall and drive somewhere else. Perhaps that explains my A-level results (cross blog pollination – nice!)

But I am older now, the sleepiness of the place appeals to me – I smile at the leisurely pace even the bees go about their work. When I smile the people dandering along the road beside me smile. We smile at each other. I wonder how long it will last.

Ballymoney town centre is a single street of family owned independent shops that have been there forever. The fashion shops have the same window displays they had when I was driving past them to avoid a double period of English Literature. The word fashion seems to be lost on them. You can literally count the number of chain stores on one hand; and even they tend not to be the big name ones. There are no Marks and Spencer, no WH Smith (not even an Eason’s), no McDonalds, KFC or Starbucks. It’s the kind of place that, were it even to have a chain store Burger joint, would have a Wimpy. We have all we need in our Cassell’s and our Walker’s and our Wilson McMichael’s and our McLaughlin’s and our Tweed’s and our Gault’s and our Young's Newsagent and our Ann’s hot bread shop and, of course, our Brown Jug. And I wonder how long it will last.

Ballymoney is a small town that thrives on its smalltowndom. It’s not quite somewhere everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came; but its near enough. I can’t imagine how big-town Ballymoney would work. It’s not likely to have a gay pride march any time soon and I’m not sure our local hood’s/neds/chavs are capable of turning to organised crime. The fact is that Ballymoney doesn’t need to be a big town; if you want a chain store Coleraine is less than 10 miles away, if you want a theme park Portrush is a short bus ride away, if you want a university education without leaving home you have UUC, if you want a stroll by the ocean you can’t get much better than Portstewart, if you want sectarian interface problems Dunloy is a few short miles away. Ballymoney is the small town that doesn’t need to grow up. Yet I wonder how long it will last.

People move there to escape bigtowndom and with every person that moves there Ballymoney gets bigger, gets one consumer closer to being able to support a Starbucks. It will happen; the single modern coffee shop in the town is constantly full (hence the fact that I am outside.) It can’t last much longer.

That, however, is exactly what I said last year, and the year before that, and the years when I was at school and thought of it as a positive thing. It hasn’t happened yet and so I’ll smile at the passers-by for a little while longer.

A Typical Day at the Cornmarket

Recently I was in Belfast for a wander about when I came upon a strange sight. There was a busker (not strange for Belfast – I’d passed three on my walk up to that point), two girls and a guy handing out fliers (again not strange – the Corn Market is the perfect place for evangelists/religious nuts to stand for maximum exposure.) What made this a strange sight was the fact that the two girls and the guy were dressed up like Victorians. “Promoting a play,” I thought; and certainly the way one of the girls was listening earnestly while a drunk spilled his guts (not literally) made me think she was a great actor. Each of the girls and the guy were talking earnestly to people and all the time the busker strummed her guitar and sang vaguely latin-american-sounding songs. They were all incredibly beautiful people, and even more striking in their costumes.

I moved round the corner and leaned against the wall to listen – I didn’t fancy being accosted by anyone and listened to earnestly. The singer had an amazing voice. Absolutely captivating. I was getting so lost in the music that I didn’t notice the male member of the group looking at me for a few seconds and when I did I accidentally made eye contact. NEVER MAKE EYE CONTACT! I looked away immediately and tried to look like I was waiting for someone in a shop. I impatiently looked at my watch (I’m good) but he wasn’t fooled. He came right over and shook my hand.

Paul, and his colleagues, are missionaries who had come over from their work in Liberia to speak to the people of Europe. As he told me of the group and what they believed and listened earnestly to what I had to say I got more and more uncomfortable. I listened to hear if anything he had to say was heretical or evidence that he belonged to a dangerous cult that would kidnap my children (if I had any) and force them to eat Weetabix for lunch. He didn’t; and that, if anything, made me even more uncomfortable. What was amazing was the fact that he seemed to be able to slip the word ‘love’ into practically every sentence – woolly liberal obviously; except he really wasn’t. As I stopped trying to accuse and judge I started to enjoy the discussion. I really got into it and totally lost track of time. But the whole time the discomfort grew; and I began to notice the words of the busker’s songs weren’t helping that discomfort.

Both Paul and Ivanna were using the word love in a casual way – but they weren’t talking of love as we know it. They were talking about the love they inherited from Jesus. They were talking about a love that would make them leave their lives behind and move to Africa to help people in war torn countries. They were talking about a love that was more important than safety and security, more important than their lives. And yet they were talking about it casually as if it was something everyday normal to them. Because it was everyday normal to them. They lived this love.

Il n'y a pas de plus grand amour que de donner sa vie pour ses amis.

I was feeling uncomfortable because, while I spoke often of this love, I am not able to talk about it casually or without a twinge of discomfort. I do live a life of love – I hold Christ’s love as an example of how I want to live my life. Paul and Ivana weren’t thinking about it, they were living it, every day. And as Paul quoted passages of scripture they took on a whole new level of understanding. There are many things I need to work on in my life and now it turns out that even this part, the one I thought I had sussed, needs much development. I guess I have work to do yet.

independently cruel

I love the Independent. I buy it most days – mainly for Miles Kington’s column and the TV guide. I don’t watch much TV but I read the independent TV guide every day. It has to be the most cruelly honest appraisal of the night’s watching available and generally reminds me why I don’t watch much TV. Here are just a few selections from recent editions.

BBC2
6:00 Eggheads. Remorseless quiz show loop fronted by Dermot Murnaghan.
6:30 Animal Park. There’s a lion, we’re told, that likes to climb trees. Well I never.
7:00 Seawatch. Another chance to see this underwhelming nature documentary, in which Kate Humble becomes inaudible beneath a diving mask.
9:30 Supernova. Rob Brydon’s less-than-super bush comedy.
10:00 Billy Connolly’s Tour. The halfway point in the big yawn’s tour brings him to London.

ITV
7:00 Emmerdale. Matthew reveals the truth about Sadie’s involvement in the JCB incident. You know, the JCB incident.
7:00 Emmerdale. The Dingles face police questioning; which must win some sort of prize for unoriginal storylining.
7:30 Go North West. Eamonn O’Neal is in Cumbria trying firefighting and glass-blowing. At the same time?
8:00 House of Horrors. A dodgy gas fitter and the team responsible for a botched loft conversion find television fame.
11.00 Surveillance City. CCTV-footage-recycling scheme.
11:35 Club Reps. Happily optional.
11:35 Club Reps. They’re rehearsing cabaret at Playa del Ingles, in case your day hasn’t been bad enough.

Ch 4
6:30 Hollyoaks. Mel is full of optimism on the first day of her new job, the poor child.
6:30 Hollyoaks. Louise begins preparations for her departure. Sounds like its going to be a long drawn out affaire.
9:30 The Law of the Playground. Vic Reeves, Justin Lee Collins, Alan Carr et al recall PE lessons and playground smoking. You kind of wish they’d just forget about it.
10:55 Sugar Rush. Lazzzt in series.
10:00 Big Brother. Don’t worry, it’s nearly all over.
11:30 Big Brother’s Big Mouth. Man of the moment Russell Brand is the host.

Five
6:00 Home and Away. Sally tries to help Alf get back to normal. Why?
6:30 Pimp my Ride UK. A rusty 1989 Volkswagen Golf is given red leather interior and heated massaging seats. Is that a cure for rust?
8:00 Getting on the Property Ladder. Tony Jacobs comes to the aid of a Manchester couple who are looking for their first home together with a budget of £95,000. The words “good luck” spring to mind.

But my favourite listings are reserved for one particular show:

10:00 Love Island. Patrick Kielty and Ferne Cotton are marooned with the dud reality show.
10:00 Love Island. Patrick Kielty and Ferne Cotton report from the unloved island.
10:00 Love Island. Patrick Kielty and Ferne Cotton bring us the latest tedium from Fiji.
11:00 Love Island. Welcome back gluttons for punishment.
10:00 Love Island. Patrick Kielty and Ferne Cotton from Boost My Career Island.
10:00 Love Island. It’s a bit like waiting for pandas to mate, only not so worthwhile.

Another success - Quelle Suprise!

Yesterday was a big day for schools around the country. I had hoped to write this yesterday but my mind was filled with all kinds of everything and I hated the idea of replacing it with work. It’s still my holiday and I’m going to hang on to every last second of it.

Yesterday was the day the A-level and AS-level results came out. Newspapers all over England, Wales and Northern Ireland proclaimed it as the best results ever. They proclaimed this even though the printing deadline must have been hours before the results came out. How could they possibly know? Do they have insiders leaking information? Have they been tapping phone lines again? Or, and I’m suggesting that this may be the most likely, were they working on the assumption that it would be the best year so far because last year was then the best so far, and the year before was at that point the best so far, and the year before that…

Almost a quarter of UK A-level entries were awarded the top grade this year... The overall A-level pass rate rose for the 24th year... As usual, the Northern Ireland entries were the most successful this year, with a pass rate of 97.7% and almost a third - 32.4% - awarded A grades. - bbc.co.uk

Now, in any other industry such steady improvement would be hailed as a great achievement, if not a minor miracle; and yet in education it is greeted with controversy and suspicion. Why? Well perhaps people are starting to wonder why these same pupils who are gaining outstanding results at A-level and (lets not stop with secondary education) good 2-1 degrees at University lack basic literacy and numeracy skills needed in the workplace. Maybe they’re wondering why these high fliers are great at texting and copying things from the internet but have mediocre conversational skills. Maybe they’re wondering why someone with an excellent educational history can lack all but the most basic general knowledge. Maybe they are starting to suspect that exams are getting easier.

The results will be seized on by critics as further proof A-Levels are getting easier. But schools minister Lord Adonis has rejected suggestions they have been "dumbed down". - Sky News

I am not one of those people. I should really have pointed out quite early on that I did piteously in my own A-levels. The results were disappointing even back in 1995 and would certainly be considered with nothing but distain by today’s standards. Even, two years later, when I sat a night class Sociology A-level, I only just scrapped by. Do I consider myself intelligent? Sometimes. Do I think I’d do better if I were to try again now? Almost certainly. Do I think the courses are easier? No!

Record numbers of sixth-formers won top grades in this year's A-levels, fuelling accusations that the country's 55-year-old "gold standard" school exam is becoming too easy. - Reuters

I believe that the courses have changed (obviously) and it’s become easier to do well in them. There’s a difference between something being easy and something being easy to do well. A subtle difference, but it exists. The modular system allows pupils to re-sit elements they did badly and to pool the things they did well to create a good final result. Less emphasis on a final exam has lowered stress and cram learning (actually a lot harder than most people give credit.) Pupils only have to know their stuff for the duration of the time it takes to do their coursework (or copy it from an online essay if you want to be controversial)

the need for reform of the system is now undeniable. As a tool for educating the population, A-levels are failing... For all the talk of A-levels becoming easier, their narrow academic nature is still deterring too many from remaining in school or college any longer than they have to. - The Independent

Finally, do I think, therefore, that we are worrying about nothing? Absolutely not. We have every reason to worry. The prizes are becoming increasing worthless (There’s only so many stars you can put after an A to increase its value – How happy will we be when we get A***+xl-nitro in our media studies exam?) and A-levels are nowhere near broad enough to provide and assess the skills we will use later in life. Universities find it impossible to distinguish between vast numbers of very different students all presenting their straight A certificates with identical smiles. The time has come for a change (and I say that very cautiously considering the number of changes there are to our education system year after year – all of which teachers are expected to implement and master without a murmur.) Personally I favour a Baccalaureate-esque programme. The 16 year olds at the table next to me think it’d be easier just to move the grades down one. (16 year olds are extremely nosey these days) I told them I’m opposed to that on the grounds that I have what very few people get these days, an E in Chemistry. I feel special.

pick me up

I was going to post an entry about A level results - towing the party line about how they're not getting easier blah blah blah teaching is getting more effective blah blah blah pupils work hard for those grades blah blah blah. But I just watched an ad on tv that caused me to walk round with my mouth open for over ten minutes. I only managed to close it by filling it with tictacs.

Some of you may know the ad I'm talking about. Most of you won't. It's for a magazine called Pick Me Up. A quality little piece of gloss that, according to the ad, has 'more adultery, more marvelous mums, and more puzzles'. MORE ADULTERY, more marvellous mums and more puzzles!?! (trust me, I never use !?! lightly) Since when in this twisted world did adultery become a selling point? I must have missed something here. I actually hoped my, undoubtably deteriorating, hearing had taken a turn for the worse and it really said something like 'more adult earrings' (actually, that would still worry me.) So I went to the web site to find out more, and to put me mind at ease.

It didn't. The web site describes the content:
There's every kind of real-life story inside Pick Me Up – outrageous sex and betrayal, shocking murder, heartache, tears and a whole lot of laughter. Plus, Pick Me Up's Puzzlin' Paul has a treat in store for you – nine pages of brainteasers and £7,000 to give away. It's all true, all real, all yours!

It's got me turning all Daily Mail. I'm filling out my visa application for a trip back to the 50s. And what makes it worse is the chirpy voice of the woman in the ad making me feel like there's nothing odd about selling a magazine on the backs of broken families and love gone wrong. And puzzles. Adultery and puzzles share the bill. I'm bemused. I'm off to buy a copy. For the puzzles obviously.

ba halt all flights from the uk

who's side was Lincoln on anyway?

It's come to something when you have to hold up a copy of the day's newspaper and be photographed to prove that you are still alive. Certainly things are not looking good for Cuba's leader Fidel Castro. On his 80th birthday on Sunday he was pictured holding up a copy of Saturday's Granma (The Communist Party newspaper.) These pictures were the first to be taken of him since his stomach surgery and despite his defiance even he seems resigned to the fact that he will never again lead his country.

Have you ever seen the death of someone so eagerly awaited by another country? Both George Bush and Condoleezza Rice have held press conferences on the future of Cuba and the american government has adjusted policy to make it easier for Cubans to defect to the US. Why are they getting so excited by the prospect of someone dying?

I am no Castro apologist. I occasionally see myself as an almost socialist when it suits me, and every so often I am taken in by the romance of Che and Fidel leading their socialist paradises in America's back yard. I am a great admirer of the Cuban health care system and, indeed, their education system; we have a lot to learn from this regime. However, I know I disagree with the vast majority of his policies, his views on religion don't greatly appeal to me, I dislike the fact that there is no free press or free elections, and I find the way his friends live lavish lifestyles while most of his people live in poverty hard to justify (although a suffocating forty five year US trade embargo may have played a small part in those levels of poverty as well.)

I can't help thinking that the US - or should I say a tiny, but noisy lobby in the US, believe that Cuba is their rightful property - it is the state that got away. In fairness Cuba has never been US property, the British briefly controlled the Island (rather unsuccessfully) but the United States of America has never occupied their little neighbours. Its relationship with Cuba, while never comfortable, wasn't always so acrimonious. The top photo shows Fidel Castro on a state visit to the US visiting, and laying a wreath at, the memorial to Abe Lincoln, the great emanicipator, in 1959 before the US embargo. The second photo was taken only two years later and shows a line of Anti-Castro Cuban exiles marching in support of President Kennedy's hardline policy on Cuba. What a difference 700 odd days make. But times have changed and, despite the fact that those same exiles continue to rant against Castro (I'm not blaming them - but would you really expect someone who ran away from a country to promote it) the larger part of the US administration and population have little appetite for a fight.

So, no matter how loud the ex-pat Miami inhabitants shout it is surely unlikely that America will launch any kind of military bid for regime change. After hundreds of CIA assassination plots and attempts it looks like that is about to happen all by itself. And the powers that be in Washington still imagine that when Castro goes the people will demand what they really want - a US style democratic regime with close trade links with America. It may happen or they may be disappointed. Maybe by then all the Cubans who favour that course of action will have already defected to Florida. Still we all know hoe important Florida is in presidential elections - better keep them happy.

what just happened?

There I was, just casually checking my stats and I find that instead of my usual 4 daily visitors I have more than 10. What's that all about? Then I check DPW's blog only to find that he has given me yet another massive plug. In fact, 2 more plugs.So that's how it is then. You're here because he sent you did he? Well you can tell him I don't need charity. Me and my 4 readers are very happy. Still, if he wants to plug me again, say every two weeks or so, I can't be too bitter. I'm a very gracious blogger.

i hate microsoft sam

Maybe you're wondering why I've called this blog the Thoughts of a Special Needs Teacher when I hardly ever talk about teaching. Well, first of all I should confess that I'm not really a special needs teacher as such. I mean, I am a teacher, I have been for almost half a decade. I work in the Learning Support Unit in a medium sized secondary school in Northern Ireland. I am the learning support teacher. Having said that, my immediate boss is the SENCO (Special Educational Needs Coordinator), she coordinates everything I do - so I guess I am Special Needs after all.

Anyway, its the summer so I'm not in work - so there isn't that much to talk about concerning work. As it is I try not to get completely submerged in my work - I like to think I have a life outside of school (although sometimes it doesn't seem that way). I will write about school and I will write about things that have nothing to do with school. I will write about whatever is on my mind. As it happens I went into school today to check out the room to which they're moving me this year.

so licking I soy I went in to work today and find that my computer had been set up to carry out speech recognition. Nine but I’m not a big fan of technology and to be quite a list of the democratic. So I’m a little Skeptical about being able to use something like this in mind every day life. And so I have decided to try and dictate my log entry today. I said log Not long ago not known. Now I said below the not real. NO! I SAID BLOG YOU STUPID MACHINE!!!

See a continued to work seems that ought coming in to school when no one else is around. Usually when I’m here Fares over a thousand people milling around the corridors. I think I’d like school better this way. And being moved to new run this year. As smaller than my older But it has its own kitchen on sweet now on sweet Wall Street all suite on. I already have the reputation of drinking coffee constantly. Today I’ll be able to make myself some support levels to go along with it suffered less so for super noodles.

One major benefit of being the only person in a school is the fact that I have no father finding a parking space. I arrive five minutes late for work and all the spaces are taken by 612 bills and the nation’s. But this time it was just me And so I made my way directly from the masters use space. And in part of the. I didn’t park in it so. I’m too much of a cluttered to do that even when he is probably having a day session with his wife in Australia or somewhere else. I can’t believe the cash and cons of this day’s session.

I don’t think I’ll ever use voice recognition again.

perfectly designed

Perfectly Designed
by Ivana Hill

Who ever said that life was going to be
A bed of roses and a lullaby?
Who ever said it all would be okay
That we’d never ever bleed or cry?

You see me smiling while this rose it has it thorns;
My song is lilting, still occasionally I’ve mourned.
From the all time crushing’s where sweet incense is born
And I know life
Was perfectly designed…

To teach the reasons why.


Who ever said that life would always seem
Like a walk in a lovely park?
And who ever said it all would stay this way,
Just a never-ending lark?

As a raging fire us consumes,
Like scattered petals, hearts are strewn.
But rising from the ashes we see wisdom start to bloom
And I know life
Was perfectly designed…

To teach the reasons why.


Who ever said that life would always be
Just as easy as your piece of pie?
And who ever said it all would stay this way,
And we’d never have to say goodbye?

I’ve felt the sunshine and the rain,
I’ve known the pleasures and the pain.
From the broken hearted the sweetest love is gained
And I know life
Was perfectly designed…

To teach the reasons why.

Yeah we’ll learn the reasons why.

________________________________________

© Ivana Hill, music & lyrics

Dylan - Genius or Generally Over-rated?

In a few days (28th Aug i think) a record will be released that will undoubtedly gain critical acclaim, moderate commercial success and several full-page articles in the music press. It is Bob Dylan’s latest little offering, Modern Times, and Dylan-philes are mopping up their anticipatory drool as we speak. You may well even be one. The chances are you will be, considering you must have typed his name into a search engine to get here.

Let me make my position clear right from the off, just so you followers of the cult of bob won't feel tricked into reading something that might make you angry. I know you'll read on anyway; funny that, sometimes you get so used to blindly following something that you lose the ability to consciously make decisions (think for yourself in other words.) It’s ironic in several ways that an artist (and his is an artist - I can't argue with that) who so actively promoted thinking outside the box is revered in such a mindless way. He is revered because that is the right thing to do. If you like music and believe in its ability to change the world then you must see Dylan as the godfather. I don't. I see him as the rabbit in the magic roundabout. Okay, that was harsh and I didn't mean it. Bob Dylan was a great poet, songwriter, philosopher and he is rightly highly regarded as such. The vast majority of people reading this will hold the man up as a genius - I don't deny you your right to do so. Just don't deny me my right to disagree. Dylan fans have told me that they feel sorry for me that I don't have the intellect/ soul/ empathy to understand the messages that Dylan gives us. Is it just me or is the awe that they hold the man reminiscent of the awe in which Christians hold our Messiah? Is that healthy? Sometimes I really want to understand the whole Dylan thing – but this isn’t one of them.

Here are just a few of the arguments people have tried to force-feed me in recent days:

He changed the world as we know it.

No, he didn't - that happened because it was always going to happen and would have happened anyway. Social circumstances at the start of the sixties had changed dramatically from what was recognisable previously. Dylan was part of the sixties, not the reason for them. In fact some people don't feel those changes were all good - Is Dylan taking credit for the obsession with self that kicked off in that decade? I’ll give him that one if he wants it.

He changed music as we know it. In terms of music there was music before Dylan and music after Dylan.

Right, just so I'm clear on that - You're putting Elvis in with Mozart and U2 in with the Bob the Builder. Excellent observation - perhaps a little generalistic. Perhaps a little clichéd. And couldn't that really be said of anybody? There was music before the Meatloaf and there was music after Meatloaf. I don’t like to blow my own trumpet but there was blogging before me and then there was blogging after me. Personally I think that Elvis, The Beatles and Buddy Holly were all just as, if not more, influential on the direction music took after them.

He is a poet - He put the mood of a decade into words that may seem incomprehensible to you unless you understand where it was coming from.

Again sounding a little dangerously like Paul talking about the secrets of the gospel being revealed by the Spirit in Corinthians. Keep off the religious allusions please. And actually I agree with the philosophical poet bit. He was very good. Hardly Kafka or Shakespeare but he put things nicely. In that case respect him as a literary figure – not a music legend.

Bob Dylan’s music is timeless.

Excuse me, I was choking on my coffee there. I have heard this argument so many times and it holds as much water as my first year art project [It was a coiled pot type thing – it was meant to be watertight but REALLY wasn’t. I was never very good at art] Dylan’s heyday came in the late sixties for a reason. The time was right, the sentiment was right, the music was right. While we may sentimentally want to cling onto some of the ideals presented back then the world has moved on. The vast majority of 60’s ideals have gone. Truly great timeless music endures through the decades – Ask some people what mental image they have of Bob – what decade are they imagining. Now that’s not a bad thing – it’s just not the sign of timeless appeal. Truly great timeless music appeals to generation after generation. Ask a random sixteen year old to sing a line from an Elvis song, a Lennon/McCartney song… a Dylan song. Truly great timeless music endures, not just after the artist’s death but for a long, long time after that. Beethoven, Vivaldi, Hendrix, Shakin’ Stevens; these are the true timeless greats.

What makes Dylan stand out is the fact that he didn't let things go to his head; that he didn't let his position as musical god change him as a person; that he didn't sell out.

I have to admit that I have a sneaking admiration for him on that. Except it doesn't hold true somehow. Just because the man didn't move to a mansion in the Hollywood hills somewhere doesn't mean he doesn't have his airs and graces. The one time I remember seeing the man in the flesh he came across as very arrogant. Maybe I caught him on a bad day; the Dylan-philes in other blogs never seem to have had that experience. In my opinion what makes Bob Dylan stand out was the fact that he was American. He was an American coming out with some rather continental European sentiments.

He wrote great song after song.

Not any more he doesn’t. Have you ever wondered why, other than one notable exception in the early nineties, Dylan hasn’t written anything of note in thirty years? Again I ask you to talk with a typical person (ie not a Dylan fanatic) and ask them to name his greatest hits. Mr Tambourine Man, Like a Rolling Stone, Blowing in the Wind, (and don’t get me started on this particular little ditty, this prime example of sixties utopianism, with the ripped off melody (listen to ‘No More Auction Block’) and the vapid list of questions followed by a metaphor I may have been impressed by if it was written by one of my year 8 pupils)

I'm sorry if I'm coming across as bitter. It is true that the only experience I have of seeing him live was on the night of my High School Formal when a Dylan-loving friend and I drove down to the Kings Hall in Belfast. The hall was only half full, Dylan was an hour late, he slurred his way through the set slouched against a chair as if he was very drunk and then played some of the longest encores I can remember. As my friend eased his way forward to get a better view of his hero I eased my way to the back and spent the last hour chatting up a girl selling Pepsi. He had a great time. So did I. Can we leave it at that and not belittle each other because of our views on a wrinkly old has-been with a bad voice? I have to end it here – I’m sure that barista just winked at me. Did she just wink? She just winked.





Should you be here and are still believing that you are a lesser human being in terms of musical taste because you haven't got original copies of Dylan's back catalogue I have a simple message for you. Maybe you, like me, have tried, at times, to become a fan more out of image than a genuine affection for his music. Well listen to these comments for me:

"[this album] is one of the most inspirational collections of our lifetime... This man is truly an underappreciated living legend and a national
treasure."

"If you like music, and I'm thinkin you do, then spin this platter, grab yourself a broad and view heaven."

"The album is genius, admittedly there's been some fairly serious production money involved but nonetheless it is Sheer. Genius. A virtuoso performance by a virtuoso at the height of his powers. "

"This dude makes the most life-affirming music in the history of mankind! I am a better woman for hearing his voice!"

and my personal favourite:

"Once in every generation you have gifted musical and literary geniuses who create bodies of work that can only be described as sublime transcendence. Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, Shakespeare, Cervantes, Tolstoy - this pantheon of greatness can only be complete with the addition of none other than [this artist]. I was depressed, lonely and spiritually empty until one day, I listened to "The Best Is Yet To Come", and my eyes were opened - I was thus convinced that God not only exists, but we are all ensconced in his presence. If you truly love music and poetry, you must have this CD in your collection."

Who can they possibly be talking about? Someone who changed the face of music, of the world, of their lives. Someone who, in their opinion, deserves the title of living legend. A poet, a philosopher, a true musician...
Who could this be? 124 reviews can't be wrong

It's good to see that Mr Dylan isn't the only one with obsessive fans

If you've reached this far and still can't give up your love for the big BD here is a blog you may enjoy more than this.

conspiracy theory - coleraine style

Is it an unfortunate mistake on the part of the organisers? Surely our esteemed goalie didn't misread the the dress-code on the invitation? I believe it is yet another conspiracy against Coleraine Football Club.

On the back page of today's News Letter there is a photo showing representatives from teams competing in the CIS Insurance cup this season. Now look closely and you will see that the player second on the left is not wearing his team's official kit. While everyone else is sporting their colours proudly Davy O'Hare has turned up in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a coleraine polo shirt. It is obviously an attempt by the powers that be to stop Coleraine showing off their lovely new diadora strip, thus people won't be encouraged to buy it and Coleraine will continue to have money problems. Terrible state of affairs. Well we can all put it right - if each reader of this post goes out and buys a Coleraine shirt... then there'll be three more sold than would have been sold otherwise.

I'm just glad Coleraine are there at all (clubs colours or no.) It was this time last year that we'd started a season not knowing whether we'd be there the following week. I remember vividly the "last ever game." It was against local rivals (well, not really rivals) Portstewart. I can't describe how it feels watching a team, listening to their heart monitor get slower and slower and waiting for the end. We played Portstewart again two days ago and won 6-2. How times have changed. Anyway it gladened my heart to read the statement on Coleraine's website from the IFA saying they can find no reason why Coleraine should be excluded from the league this year. Onwards and upwards. And don't worry Davy, you may not be in kit like the rest of those posers but you look like you could take any of them in a fight.

the trouble between Right and Wrong.

Isn’t politics a funny old thing? Just when we think that all the MPs can think about is how they’ll be spending their summer vacations (rather than little pieces of trivia such as sorting out the Middle East) they come out with this little gem for the Department of Education. Its seem they feel schools shouldn’t teach the difference between right and wrong. Apparently these are absolute concepts which are now inappropriate. Ken Boston, chief executive of the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority, set out the proposals for changes in a letter to former education secretary Ruth Kelly. Under these new plans the National Curriculum will be changed to say teachers merely have to help pupils develop "secure values and beliefs".

Now I’m not going to get into that one, it’s a whole can of worms that when opened spew out all kinds of arguments about teachers being expected to be the moral role models for pupils and the diminishing responsibility of parents in children’s discipline and the secularisation of the curriculum and all kinds of things that can’t possibly be discussed in one entry – so I’ll stop.

I just think it’s rich, especially making a pronouncement like that, and then the next day telling children that copying essays off the internet is wrong, oh and submitting other people’s work in coursework is… um… wrong, and using modern technology to gain an advantage in exams is (you guessed it) wrong. I thought the concept of wrong was outdated?

They were discussing this topic on the Now Show on radio 4 on Friday and they mentioned the 10 Commandments. And so I thought I’d come up with a new set especially for the next academic year.

The Eleven Commandments
1) Thou shalt not have any gods before me – except maybe money, cause everybody needs money after all, oh and television if there’s anything good on.
2) Thou shalt not make any graven image. Although the ones that are already made are fine.
3) Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain unless you soften it by saying something like Jeez or Gawd instead.
4) Keep the Sabbath day holy if there’s nothing better to do on it.
5) Honour your father and your mother so long as they do what you want – if not then throw a tantrum at every opportunity.
6) Thou shalt not murder anyone that doesn’t deserve to be killed – you decide.
7) Thou shalt not commit adultery – but, hey, looking at the menu doesn’t mean you have to order dessert if you know what I mean, nudge nudge.
8) Thou shalt not steal, apart from little things that nobody would miss. Hey the hotel put those things out for you. They’re yours to take if you want. And no one misses a bit of office stationery – it’s a rightful supplement to your wages.
9) Thou shalt not bear false witness except when it’s only a little white lie or you might get in bigger trouble if the truth came out.
10) Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house. His career and new BMW are alright though.
11) Thou shalt not start wars unless there is a possibility of forcing regime change on a country and being able to blame it on a search for weapons of mass destruction.

I'm beginning to lose faith in our political leaders. Maybe we should ask Earl.

cutting edge

It turns out this area is a little more cutting edge than I’d imagined. There was me thinking it was a sleepy little tourist area and all along it is up there with Paris, Milan and New York as hubs for style and fashion.

Last night I was feeling a bit of a craving for Taytos and, having diminished will power, I got in my car and drove to a filling station in Portrush. I grabbed my crisps, and a few other nibbles in case I got hungry later on that night, and went to pay at the till. Here’s the thing – the girl had the till had Victoria Beckham’s new hairstyle. I rolled my eyes and sighed inwardly at the tragic thought than celebrity influences even people in this backwater.


All last week I’d been reading in the tabloids (and some of the ‘quality’ press) about this new style, about how it was a complete new hair direction for her. I’m not great at describing things like wedding dresses and woman’s hair styles and you’re bound to have seen it if you read the red tops and gossip magazines. It’s a kind of messed up bob. Anyway it’s being hailed as trend setting. Apparently Posh has been getting worried that other footballers’ wives have been stealing a march on her style stakes and decided to up the ante. Actually I think it quite suits her but I know nothing of these things. The papers say that she was sending phone photos of it to David who was on another planet or something and he was well impressed, so that’s alright then. You can read about it from a writer who knows more about these things than me at
Kate Creasey's blog.

So here I am standing at the front of the queue to pay and the cashier is giving me funny looks because I seem to have forgotten to actually hand over the cash and am staring at her hair. The thing is, suddenly I distinctly remembered being there the week before and she had that same hairstyle. Come to think of it she’s had that style for as long as I can remember. It’s definitely the same as Victoria’s (except it may not have cost as much to create.) So the only explanation has to be that while VB was searching for inspiration to reinvent herself she came to North Antrim (the North Sea air helps you think – it’s a recognised fact) and fancied a pack of Tayto crisps. While she was standing in the queue to pay she spotted her role model. You mark my words, very soon she’ll be chewing gum noisily and saying things like “That’s £1.59. Why you lookin’ at my hair?”

Still she smiled as she handed over my change, so I think I might be in there.

My One and Only (EVER) Big Brother Post

I am not a fan of Big Brother. I don't even watch it. The only way I know what's going on is by reading the red tops. Actually, from that point of view I am a fan - I read everything that's going on practically every day. But mainly just to tut and shake my head knowingly at the absurdity of the whole thing. And I do that quite a bit. My difficulty with Big Brother is that it doesn't seem to know what it is anymore. Reality TV hardly describes it; its as far from reality as we can get - well, other than Last of the Summer Wine maybe. It stopped being a psychological/ sociological/ ratings experiment for me when the freak show qualities of potential contestants became more important than the mix. It stopped being a competition for me when they started giving evictees a chance to go back in. I just don't know what it is now - do they?

Anyway, I dislike the thing, but I am quite interested in it. And recently my interest became (for a split second) a professional one. And something happened which disturbed me greatly. In fact it shook me to the depths of my career-based existence. The whole faith I had in my purpose as a Learning Support Teacher has taken a battering - and all because of a Big Brother Task. How can this be?

Recently on Big Brother they carried out a series of personality/intelligence tests on the housemates. Now part of my job is carrying out Cognitive abilities tests etc so I have to believe that they are a fairly accurate way of gauging strengths and weakness. However, as many of you will know a welsh housemate called Glyn was named the most intelligent. This is the same welsh housmate called Glyn who freely admits to doing "dumb stuff" like "falling over." Homer Simpson doesn't have a prayer when this guy is around. He got annoyed because he rated so low on the Machiavellian scale - despite the fact he didn't know what the word meant.

I wouldn't be so worried, but these are the tests that are increasingly being used in industry to rate a candidates suitability for a task. If they go so wrong on a TV show then what might be happening out there in the real world. We could have inspirational leaders clearing tables at Mickey D's while simpletons run the countries (no disrespect George W.) Glyn may still be young but I fear for him, I really do. He has such a naive view of the planet that he could be in for a big shock. He's stuck in a kind of perpetual childhood. Hmmm, maybe there is something in this intelligence test after all. As the digital Spy Big Brother site puts it:

By accident or design (or a bloody crafty combination of both), Glyn has become a housemate for all people. HeÂ’s the helpless schoolboy, pulling at the heartstrings of the mature female vote, the mad-cap, sports-mad, singing small-town boy-next-door for the Tweenage Texters, the all-drinking, all-streaking geezer who loved Baywatch and blondes with big boobs for The Lads.

The crafty sod's had us all fooled. I bet that squeaky welsh accent is put on as well! He's probably from Essex. The swine! I feel much happier now.

coleraine - and the next big thing

I live near a little town that is in many ways like many other little towns in many western counties. We have our high street chain stores - our Burtons, our Argos, our HMV, our Boots, our Woolworths, our Dorothy Perkins, yadda yadda yadda. We also have our own independent stores such as Dixons of Coleraine, Moores of Coleraine, Bishops of Coleraine (all independents should have 'of Coleraine' in their name - it works well with the locals.)

We have several dodgy modern sculptures, all donated by other countries (trying to boast their own tourist industry by putting people of going to Northern Ireland.) We have our churches - by the dozen (Presbyterians, Free Presbyterians, Reformed Presbyterians, Anglican, Brethern, Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, Church of the Latter Day Saints, Seventh Day Adventists, Wiccan, Humanist, Coleraine Football Club) We have everything that the average provincial town needs to make it an average provincial town.

But what makes Coleraine special in my mind (well, one of the things) is the way it evolves not gradually, or even smoothly, but completely randomly and in great waves of whatever the latest trend is. What I mean is that Coleraine doesn't ever seem to have a good range of everything - it has complete overkill of one thing and when people start to realise there is too much competition in that particular business then everyone closes down and moves into the next trend. When I was very young it was hairdressers (now referred to as salons - I'm pretty sure there are no hairdressers anymore - just stylists... well except for Sean over on the Waterside but he'll soon clearout the shop and paint it mimimilist white with a plasma screen over the counter I'm sure) then it became shoe shops (Don't worry, Bishops (Coleraine's biggest employer of young Christian summer staff) still dominate that market), then it was card shops, then Jeans shops, then finally coffee shops. Cafe Capri, Riverside Cafe, Cuil Coffee, Ground Coffee, Dixons, Moores (Moores actually have not one but two coffee shops within their shop), Pepperz, Lily D's, Twenty Two, The Belfry, Bon Appetit, The Forum, and (of course) Starbucks can all be found within walking distance of the Diamond. And that is off the top of my head - there are more.

Don't get me wrong. I like a coffee as much as the next man. In fact the staff in Starbucks and Ground know me by name. I've taken to going to them time about so they don't think I'm an addict. Coleraine, however has less than 25,ooo residents. That's not huge. How can it support more than fifteen coffee shops? Especially since Ballymena (less than 30 miles away) probably has even more. I do my best to get round them all to support them but I can't help thinking that some of the smaller shops will have to close. What will they become? Well, whatever the next trend may be. Personally I'm hoping for more bike shops - I could do with one of them.