but what is it?

Facebook's a funny thing, isn't it? In five years it's gained 600 million users, been involved in several court cases, become the subject of an Academy Award nominated movie, and filled many a page of the Daily Mail. I have a facebook account, most people I know do - not many of them use it very often, but they have one. But it's an odd thing, isn't it.

Take today for example. I have a little over a hundred Facebook friends. In the past hour three of them have updated their status message - and each showed up in my news feed - look at all this jargon! I'm down with Zuckerburgspeak!
This is what my friends had to say on Facebook today.

1. Stop calling Bisto "proper gravy". It's not.

2. woo woo! going to the pub. It's FRIIDAY!!! (sic)

3. i am one of the proudest Egyptians that are filling every inch of Cairo & all of Egypt right now celebrating their freedom for the first time! I love you all and i thank everyone that believed in the revolution and supported me throughout my life.

So based on those what would you suggest Facebook is for? Observational comment? Long winded ways of saying TFIFriday? Orchestrating political revolutions? I really want to know.

Because it better be something worthwhile. From what I see it, and twitter, and the rest, have stiffled creativity more than created it. For every piece of original thinking there are three hundred inanities. And any piece of original thinking is quickly copied and pasted so copiously that it soon loses all sense of originality. For every reuniting of lost friends there are thirty other friends sitting neglected in some list on the left hand side of your screen. For every meaningful connection there is a flurry of one click pokes - what do they mean?

Recently I was seeing someone I didn't know a huge amount about. Facebook became a handy stalking device to find out a bit of background knowledge on her - see if we had any mutual friends, see if any of our friends had mutual friends. I would have felt worse about it if I didn't know she was doing exactly the same thing on me. It was useful. It was handy. It took all the joy out of learning about each other in an organic (slow) manner.

People with something to say used to develop it in blogs all those, oh two, three, years ago. I used to read amazing opinions and conversations and expositions over the course of a five or six paragraph essay, followed by pertinent and sometimes conflicting comments from interested readers. Now we are so busy squeezing it into single paragraphs (or Twitter's 140 characters) that we've lost something very important. "But it's a skill - being concise." Yes it is - but it's a skill not many people have apparently. And it's also a skill being complete - and I miss those days. I want to get in contact with all those bloggers I respected so much who have since disappeared. I want to get them to come back. I want to read their thoughts - not their thoughts condensed into a "what are you thinking" paragraph.

As I started using Facebook I know I started to lose the attention needed to write blogs. My entries became less and less frequent to the point where I was writing one every few months. Does that make me a hypocrite - perhaps. But I blame Facebook for it.

So. What was my Facebook status update today? On this world changing day that will go down in Egypt's history forever? How did I sum up all that was important to me?

I just made my first authentic tagine - in an authentic tagine. And it wasn't poisonous. In fact it was really good. Now just need ten or fifteen people for the leftovers - may have got the quantities a bit wrong.

The people of North Africa will be so proud of me.

soup wars - who'd have thought it

I am so confused.

You may remember a rant I had a little over a year ago about the loss to our supermarket shelves of the famous Campbell's Soup tin. It seemed a strange decision to rebrand an iconic company with a less than iconic brand. A little further investigation (reading the BBC website) threw a little light on the situation but still didn't make a huge amount of sense to me. See if you can make something of it.

Basically a company over here bought the rights to make Campbell's Soup in the UK. A group called Premier foods (you may have heard of some of their licensed brands, Mr Kipling, Hovis, Birds, Oxo, Crosse & Blackwell, Angel Delight, SunPat, Sunblest, Smash, Lyod Grossman, Ambrosia, Bisto... etc etc etc.) They bought the rights to make the soup but not the rights to use the brand. So they make Campbell's Soup using the Campbell's Soup recipe, but can't call it Campbell's Soup - hence the rebrand to Bachelors Soup (or Erin Soup in Ireland.)

Still with me?

Meanwhile in the US they still have good old original Campbell's Soup, by the same recipe, in the same tins as they always had. They just can't sell it in the UK - well, not for another 5 years at least when Premier's exclusive license to make it in the UK runs out.

So why am I confused? Well, I've just been shopping and found a Campbell's logo at the end of aisle 30 along with an "introductory offer" It turns out that, while Bachelors have the license to make the tinned condensed soup, it doesn't cover instant or dried versions. So a company up in Leeds, Symingtons, have developed a dried version, got the ok from Campbell's, and have started selling cup soup, simmer soup and (rather confusingly) pasta & sauce and savoury rice. What makes me laugh about this is the remarkable similarity to existing products, (respectively) cup-a-soup, Express Soupfuls, Pasta n' Sauce, and Savoury rice - all made by... guess who. I'm just waiting to hear the annoucement that Campbells will be bringing out Campbell's Supa-Noodles.

So we now have Bachelors making a product that is intrinsically linked to Campbell's. Meanwhile Campbells are bringing out products that have always been best associated with Bachelors... Now can you understand my confusion.

I've just sent an email to Campbell's telling them to make sure they bring out a tinned soup as soon as the licensing allows. If you get a chance do the same and then wake me up in 5 years.

word of the day (part 7 in a 73 part series)

Euphonics alt Phonaesthetics (‘yü-fǝ-nē) n. the study of inherent pleasantness or beauty (euphony) or unpleasantness (cacophony) of the sound of certain words and sentences. euphony n

Don't you love it when words actually work? When they look and sound the way they mean? People always comment on when it goes the other way - you know the stuff - Why is "abbreviation" such a long word? Why is the word "invisible" so prominent? Why is “infinitesimal” so much bigger than “big”? Why is “eternal” actually shorter than “momentary”? Why isn't "monosyllabic" monosyllabic? Why are there no other words that sound like homophone? Why isn't the word "phonic" spelt phonically? Shouldn't a "palindrome" be spelt the same backwards as it is forwards?

You've heard them all a thousand times before. So join with me in joy to celebrate Euphony - a word that does what it claims to for a change.

Friday the 14th - Or reasons why I'm single (part 3 of a 78 part series)

I will begin this post by pointing out that I actually don't believe in luck. I honestly don't. Sometimes I tell someone I've been unlucky, or sometimes I wish someone good luck - but when it comes down to it I believe things happen for reasons known or unknown. Life can be easy or sometimes life can cruel - but never lucky or unlucky.
Even if I did believe in luck I was under the impression that Friday 13th was supposed to be the unlucky one.

But let me tell you about Friday the 14th.

It is the most horrendous day ever conceived.

On Friday the 14th January 2011 I...

a) got caught speeding less than a mile away from home. I had been meeting up with some friends from a previous school and was on my way back when a speed camera in a white van caught me doing 50mph in the 40mph zone. I wasn't in a rush to get anywhere - I'm not a fast driver normally - I have no idea what happened or why I was speeding - I just was. Just a day earlier I had been giving my girlfriend a lot of stick about the fact that she had just been caught speeding. I boasted about how I've never had any penalty points on my license and how I don't speed. I guess that's what they call divine retribution.

b) got a lovely letter from the Inland Revenue informing me that they would be looking over my tax and income details with a view to me paying more tax. I don't make any money! How can I owe more tax?!

c) got another lovely letter from the Inland Revenue (a different department though) asking for nearly £200 of National Insurance I owe them because I didn't tell them that, because I don't earn over a certain level, I am exempt from paying the extra NI contributions. Technically I am exempt from the extra charges - but I needed to tell them that. And I didn't. So could I just send them a cheque and make everyone happy.

d) Found out that my girlfriend's ex had turned up on her door that morning at some unearthly hour declaring his devotion for her and showing himself full of remorse that he hadn't known just how ready he was to commit to her after all. Oh what a fool he'd been not to see that they were meant for each other.
Oh what a fool I looked as she decided she needed to give him another chance and waved me goodbye.

I hate Friday the 14th. Money issues I can deal with - well to an extent. The speeding thing is a set back - but I'll survive. But I took the whole being dumped thing quite badly. As any of my friends will tell you.
I suppose I just thought that, for once in my life, I'd actually found the one. She seemed perfect - not that she was perfect, just that she was perfect for me; meaning that her imperfections fitted mine in a good way. If you know what I mean.
A day earlier I been getting cold feet. My commitment-phobia started to kick in. But I pulled myself together and realised - much like her ex - that actually I could see a future with her - and it looked good. Unlike her ex though I am incapable of the big romantic gesture - and unlike her ex, she didn't choose me.

So I'm back to being single again. And this time I'm blaming Friday 14th.

that's some good parking

my momma told me there'll be days like this

When it's not always raining
there'll be days like this
When there's noone complaining
there'll be days like this

Well today it was raining - and today I did a lot of complaining. In fact you (as in the internet and all who sail in her) are collectively the 23rd person to whom I have complained today about today. I hate today. I wish there was no today. I'd be more than happy for yesterday and tomorrow to cosy up on the sofa and watch movies forgetting today exists.

This morning I was woken at some unearthly hour by the phone ringing. I ignored it. I've a bad dose of a cold and I hadn't slept very well - I needed my rest.

Twenty minutes later it started up again and I raised myself and plodded slowly to the phone - which stopped ringing as I reached to answer it - of course.

A couple of minutes and it was ringing again. I was beside it. The third different number to phone. I answered it.

Apparently, according to the neighbour, my father had sheep in a field beside his house. My father is on a wee trip to visit my brother and his family in Scotland. My father's sheep, the neighbour informed me, were no longer in the field and had just gone running past his house. Of course they were - they never break out when Dad is actually in the country; they save all their troubles to take out on me when he's not around.

No time to have any breakfast, shower or shave, I threw on my school clothes and jumped in my car. By the time I arrived there was no sign of any sheep. I checked in the verges, in peoples' gardens, below parked vehicles... nothing... anywhere. Assuming they had run up a local dirt track I blocked the end of it with my car and set off - in my suit - in the rain - through the mud - up the lane.

The rain was in torrents. What had been puddles once became mighty rivers and lakes. The wind beat the rain drops into my face like leather whips - my eyes stinging and my lips cracked and raw. As I checked in holes and gaps in hedges the briars wrapped themselves round my legs and ripped at my skin through my drenched suit.

A little under a mile up the lane I stopped, ankle deep in mud, in my tracks. In the distance I saw the lost sheep come running back in my direction - another neighbour behind them pushing them along. I don't know if there were tears of joy, tears of pain - or just more rain in my eyes but my relief was palpable. Between us we got them into a vacant field and I thanked James as I counted the sheep in through the gate.

My relief was short lived. We were one short.

I set off again checking fields, crossing streams, climbing gates... I was just about to give up when eventually I found her and was able to herd her into the field with her friends. I now had less than ten minutes before the start of my first class and I was a ten minute drive away from school. Driving faster than I should have down a tiny, bumpy lane led to some worrying sounds coming from various parts of my car. I also cursed the fact that I had washed it the day before as thick mud sprayed up all around me. But I got there. I arrived at school and heard the bell go for first lesson.

Have you ever had one of those days that started so badly you knew it could only get better? Well this wasn't one of them. As the mud dried on my suit and my hair took on shapes I've never seen before, and as I tried to ignore the agricultural smell that seemed to be fermenting as time passed, I had nightmare class after nightmare class. Each seemed more unsettled than the last and more mischievous. I didn't have a break at break because I do break duty on Thursdays and even my lunch time had been recommissioned as an English Department Meeting.

By the end of the day I could feel a blood vessel pulsing behind my eye - I took that as a bad sign.

As I walked out the door and made my way over to my mud coloured car I pondered on the events of the day. A curious thing struck me.

I was so unable to cope with it all. The fact that it was a one off is the redemption in the tale. If I thought that tomorrow held more of the same I don't know what I would do (It won't - not after the job I did on the hole the sheep got out of this morning -- NOTHING is getting out of that field until their rightful owner returns.)

I thought about teachers who do have to put up with that kind of stress more regularly. The ones with young families - sleepless nights, ill children, the constraints of parental responsibility. There are people out there who have that level of stress and teach full time - on a daily basis. They're insane! I both admire and pity them to extremes. Hundreds of them. Probably thousands.

And it's not just teachers. Every job that requires commitment, stress, dedication - to do that and bring up a family. I shake my head.

So when, as Van Morrison sang, my mama told me there'd be days like this - it's probably cause she'd been through plenty of them herself. And plenty much better.

When noone steps on my dreams
there'll be days like this
When people understand what I mean
there'll be days like this
When you bring out the changes
of how everything is
Well my momma told me
there'll be days like this

because you read this blog, I'd recommend you also try...

Is it just me or are Amazon's recommendations becoming a little more random? So because I bought a lead to charge my ipod in my car I'm likely to enjoy the music of Tiffany Page? Really? Um... why?

Actually the ploy worked. I checked some of her songs and a couple of videos. She's not bad. Very pretty - the guitar slinging is a good look for her - quite deep voice, very moody - I heard shadows of eighties female punk in there, and bizarrely Joan Jett in some tracks - as well as some faintly intelligent lyrics...

But try as I might I couldn't find any reference to the joys of charging mp3 players on the go. Not a single mention. But they must be right. I'll just buy the album to make sure.