Power is a State of Mind

Reading and Working Out: The Road

2012-01-30T21:18:00.003Z

Pic courtesy Ikes, Flickr

“Youforget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want toforget.”

-Theman, The Road

TodayI read Cormac McCarthy's Purlitzer-prizewinning The Road on theexercise bike. Ironically I spent a major part of the day on the roadmyself- Huddersfield Road between home and the gym. It has been avery stupid day.

Igot up at 7am. I got ready- or at least what I thought was ready- ina semi-awake state. I drove to the gym. I got to the changing rooms.I realised I'd forgotten my shorts. I then forgot that I'd come inthe car. I got a bus home. I got my shorts. I got a bus back to thegym. I went to the changing rooms again. I realised I'd alsoforgotten the notebook I use to jot down records etc. I walked out ofthe gym AGAIN. It was as I was walking out of the gym a second timethat I rummaged around in my sports bag checking if there wasanything else I'd forgotten. That's when I found my car keys and gotan almighty, forehead-slap-inducing flashback.

Ina state of complete disbelief as to how much of a moron I can be, Iwalked back to my car and went back to my flat, got my notebook, wentback to the gym AND THEN started the workout.

Thisis what you deal with when you get up earlier than you would normallydo for work and do something totally outside of your routine- youmake really dumb mistakes. Thankfully, exercise is the best way ofwaking up your brain.

After45 minutes of weights and short cardio, the synapses were definitelyfiring. I finally started on the bike/book at 10:30am. I had anhour's break for lunch. At 4pm the gym closed, and I still had thelast quarter of the novel to finish. I raced home (in the car,thankfully) and buried my nose back in it.

TheRoad is an absolutely gripping, masterful novel- beautifully written,heart-wrenching, terrifying and totally believeable. Thepost-apocalyptic scenario has been done to death in films and books,but McCarthy brings a new level of believability to the sub-genre.Read The Road as soon as you can.

Tricking Twitter “Bots” into Building Your Blog Stats

2012-01-26T21:24:00.003Z

Pic courtesy Jenn and Tony Bot, Flickr

Botsare programs designed to perform a specific function on the internetand to work independently of human action once set up. Twitter botslargely provide information of certain types, in a variety of certainways, on Twitter's interface. I'm being ridiculously vague in myexplanation as I'm a writer, not a techie. Technology site Techmalaya explainsmuch better than I could. They also provide a list of the differenttypes of bots incorporated with Twitter.

OnTwitter one day last year, I found one of my blog posts had beenretweeted by Burroughsbot. This is a William S Burroughs-related “announcement bot”, RT-inganything with the author's name to 2000 followers. I'd tweeted a particular post in which I'd discussed the surrealist penner of NakedLunch and Junky.

Recentlyit occurred to me that I could purposefully get the same bot toretweet me again, only this time I'd link to my blog's home page.This way, whoever follows Burroughsbot will get my link in theirTwitter feed and, provided they follow that link, they'll see mylatest crazed musings. Genius!

Igot a retweet within minutes.

Theblog currently stands at 49,593 hits. Lets see if it jumps a little.

Reading and Working Out: Nostradamus: The Good News

2012-01-25T07:23:00.006Z

Pic courtesy Rakka, Flickr

Finallyseated, at night, in secret study

Atrest and alone over the bronze stool

Aslender flame emerges from the wilderness

Unbelievabledeeds are uttered from the wasteland

-Quatrain1/1, Nostradamus

MarioReading's second book on the French foreteller was a fascinatinginsight into the more positive predictions made by the 16^thcentury alchemist. I read it cover-to-cover whilst seated- not on abronze stool, but on the exercise bike.

Thebook took a little longer to read than I expected. It's a good 2cmthick, but with fairly spaced-out text. It wasn't quite as spaced-outas I'd expected, and I basically lost track of time on the bike. Thegym instructor said I put “a good two and a half hours” in. Mystopwatch went full-circle, suggesting I did 100 mins followed by afuther 82. That's over 3 hours. Is this possible? I still didn'tfinish it as the gym was closing by the time I was about 5/6ths theway through.

Itwas a HARD task- Reading's translations of Nostradamus' quatrains areconcise and fascinating, and his grasp of etymology is masterful, butGoddamn, it's heavy stuff when you're pedalling away. It's more ahistory lesson than anything, with additional prophecies that haveyet to occur (expect an island to be created after an underwatervolcanic eruption in 2021). An interesting read.

Here'ssome advice for if you want to try this kind of exercise:

Make a note of what time you start, if you're as forgetful as I am
Pedal slowly. It's all too easy to burn yourself out.
Remember to focus on what you're reading. It's also easy to tune out and find yourself “reading for words” when you're exerting physically as well as mentally.
Drink lots of water. Bring a big bottle-full.
Bring a bookmark. Reading takes two hands. Frequently, so does opening the cap on a water bottle.
Pick a bike situated away from the gym's Hi-Fi speakers if possible.
Don't hold the book directly under your nose, unless you want to drip sweat on it.
Stretch off afterwards.

I'mnot quite the “slender flame” I once was, but with this day's 92minutes fat-burning, it won't be long before I am.

Reading and Working Out- Star Wars Screenplay

2012-01-24T10:11:00.005Z

Continuingmy literary-orientated fat-burning quest, I read the screenplay toStar Wars: A New Hope on the exercise bike this week. After 45minutes of short cardio and weights, I pedalled for 92 minutes.That's 137 minutes of exercise in total, minus the 90 minutes ofexercise before fat-burning occurs, which equals 47 minutes of actualfat burning.

Graft.

ANew Hope is still a good read even when- like me- you know the filmpretty well. I'm by no means a wannabe Jedi but I was a big time filmfan in my younger days.

Thebook starts with a vintage article from 1977- before Star Wars hitthe big screen- describing the monstrous task director George Lucasundertook in developing the project to from an idea through to afinished film. Impressive stuff. Lucas has always struck me as a bitof a nerd, but he's a genius nerd to have pulled off a movie asambitious and as memorable as Star Wars.

Iwas describing this reading project to a friend of mine, a scientist.She suggsted that reading during exercise will actually help me totake in the information better- I'd learn more due to the increase ofoxygen in the bloodstream, leading to blood pumping faster and theneurones in my brain firing quicker. I'm no scientist myself, but itsounds very possible to me. Whether that's the case when you've got amemory difficulty and you're not going to remember as much as otherpeople might- who knows. The last two books have been screenplays tofilms I've already seen, so I know the deal. Next up: aninterpretation of Nostradamus' prophecies. That'll be the real test.

Reading and Working Out: Human Traffic Screenplay

2012-01-17T09:43:00.001Z

Checkout this picture of me aged 24.

Justlook at that six-pack. What a legend I was. Unfortunately, when I was28 I moved out and ate rubbish for six months, and I'm struggling toget back to that shape. It's increasingly difficult when you'rejuggling your time between a career, a writing ambition, learningabout your own memory condition, keeping in touch with friends andlearning to cook. But it's possible.

Ihammer the abs machine during every gym session- normally six a week.So I know that my stomach is still reasonably strong. Perhaps not somuch as in this picture, when I was Thai boxing twice a week andgetting a kick-pad slammed into my stomach for two minutes at a time.When I was 22 I even once took a punch in the stomach off a doormanto prove a point. He said I took it “like a man.”

I'mnot Thai boxing any more- nor working in bars where I'm comfortableenough to take body-shots off security, but the weights I'm doing aremaking me stronger all the time. The abs muscles are there; now it'stime to shave off what fat I've got. So here's the plan. About.comexplains weight training and fat burning here.

Ittakes 90 minutes of exercise before the body starts to burn fat. So,here's what I did: 45 minutes of weights as normal. Then I got on theexercise bike and read the screenplay of Human Traffic, the hilariousand iconic 1999 raver movie. It took 60 minutes to read. I pedalledconstantly throughout. So that's 15 minutes of fat burning achieved.I should probably have drank a bit more water: I was a bit dizzy bythe end of it. But what a script. The energy of the movie jumps rightoff the page, and you can see why it was optioned by the studios.

Athome, I've got a huge pile of unread books that I've bought at booksignings and charity shops. Human Traffic was the smallest of those.The plan: work my way up in size order through these books, and on eachday off that I have, develop some endurance, get the six-pack backand get some serious reading done.

Scrambled Heads, I Mean, Eggs

2012-01-16T22:05:00.001Z

Maid-How do you like your eggs? Poached, fried or raw?

Meade-Scrambled – like your head!

-PhyllisDiller and Bob Hope in Boy, Did I Get a Wrong Number!, 1966

Myhead was indeed scrambled as I attempted this supposedly easy meal. Iwas to crack the eggs into a jug and “mix without beating.”

What?What does this mean? How can it be scrambled if you don't beat them?Beats me.

Geddit?“Beats...” Never mind. The inclusion of chervil and chives gavethe dish more flavour, although I perhaps used too much of these. Igot them pre-chopped in little spice jars from Tesco, so had no ideahow much to put on. I still find eggs a little difficult to judge, interms of cooking. But it was gooood.

Andthat, my friend, is the end of the egg section. I'm 7 recepies downand have 36 to go. Time for a cholestorol test, maybe?

Give Your Mind Power and Your Body Strength: Results

2012-01-15T15:19:00.000Z

Pic courtesy velvettangerine, Flickr

Thefollowing is a transcript of a conversation between writer MattTuckey and zoological interpreter / general all-round legend, FluffyOakes.

FLUFFY

Torecap, two months ago, I gave you a challenge.Improve yourself at the gym by basically beating as many personal bests as possible. If you can't get over what you're working on, you move on. Yes?

MATT

That'swhat I did.

FLUFFY

Okay.How do you think it went?

MATT

Verygood. Gave me a chance to work my whole body. I improved a fewthings, but not as many as I'd hoped. Most of them I just couldn'timprove on.

FLUFFY

Butquite a few...

MATT

Idefinitely did.

FLUFFY

Let'scheck the book. So this is where you keep records of everything youcan do, right? Starting from 7^th November you... improvedon hand bikes, both forwards and backwards, hip adductor, that'sworking the inside thigh, good for keeping guard in MMA... Your hipabductor, that's outside thigh, you put that up 6 notches! That'sawesome. Chest press with horizontal and vertical grips both went upa notch. You improved on the bike by a couple of hundred metres,and... you seriously went up 7 notches on the abs machine?

MATT

Well...in all honesty I couldn't find where I'd written how much I could do.So I took it down to notch 10 and started the process again. I'mstuck at 18 now. I broke the rules a little when I comes to abs.Worked them every session, regardless of plateaus.

FLUFFY

Soeven when you didn't improve, you still felt optimistic.

MATT

Yeah,I felt good.

FLUFFY

Youmade 22 new personal bests. You should feel good. Do you think all ofthese improvements helped this optimism?

MATT

Iwould say so. My stomach's the most important part of my body. Whenit comes to working out, I mean.

FLUFFY

Well,if that's what you want to focus on, here's what I'd do. Carry onwith the project. Keep working on the remaining movements, and yourabs. The more plateaus you hit, the more you'll rule movements out ofyour routine. When the remaining machines are being used, the onlything you'll have left to do are sit-ups, wherever you can get thespace.

MATT

I'llgive it a shot.

FLUFFY

Now.I want to ask you something else. Gym is just one part of your life.Let's look at some others. What has been happening over the last 2months? Does anything new spring up?

MATT

Well,yeah. I'm learning to cook, for one thing. I mean, I'm nearly fuckingthirty, but...

FLUFFY

Doesn'tmatter. Some guys go their whole lives not knowing how to cook. Iread your foodie posts. You cooked a quiche for your second meal, youcrazy bastard. Not the easiest of dishes! And it worked! Here'swhat's important, Matt- your improvements at the gym have gonehand-in-hand with cooking. What else?

MATT

Well-I'm getting more hits than ever on the blog. I'm back in touch with aload of friends from Oldham. I've made contact with various memoryexperts, and can ask them for advice from time to time. I'm feelingmore valued in work, having moved positions... I think work changingjust happened- it wasn't connected to the gym project.

FLUFFY

Ithink you're half-right. Sometimes things just happen, regardless ofwhat else is occurring in life. But I think a year ago, after you'dmoved out of your parent's place and things weren't going to well, Iremember you saying one thing after another was falling apart foryou- splitting up with a girlfriend, falling out with friends,problems with money, your flat not being decorated, and now you'veturned about 90% of that around. I'm not saying that the gym projectwas the catalyst for all of that, but your improvements at the gymran concurrent, it seems, with achievements in the rest of your life.By seeing yourself improve in one thing, you've seen it in countlessother facets of your life too. What's most important, though, Matt,is that you look at everything you've achieved and feel good- notjust about what you've done but about who you are. You're in greatshape, you're a talented writer and- dare I say it- a good-lookinglad too. You've spent a few months trying to get to grips with memorydifficulties and how it affects you- that's responsible enough- butyou dwelled a lot on the negativity of it rather than looking at therest of your life. Focus on what it is that you're good at and proudof, and see yourself in a great light, and things WILL work out foryou. Why? Nobody knows. But keep at this project and see how long youcan keep going for. What you're finding, Matt, is that the thingsthat weren't possible before now are possible.

Boiled Egg and Asparagus: Very Random

2012-01-13T22:19:00.001Z

Willsomeone pass me the fucking asparagus?

Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) demands his nutrients in American Beauty (1999)

Theserecipes are getting really random. Keda Black is still a few stepsahead of me: I've still no idea when an egg is boiled. At what pointis the water deemed “boiling”? When you get little streams ofbubbles along the edges? When the surface ripples? Beats me.

Ihard-boiled the egg by accident. Oh well. Shelling the egg was amassive ballache, and caused the egg to go cold. Keda also omittedany information about how to cook asparagus, so I just bunged it inthe microwave and hoped for the best.

Thesecond time 'round, I attempted to steam the veg with a seive and asaucepan. It sort-of worked. Once served, the sea-salt flakes justabout made the asparagus palateable. But it was a very random,carbless meal. I doubt I'll go back to it.

Corsican Omelette

2012-01-12T21:13:00.000Z

“Omelettesare not made without breaking eggs.”

Maximilien FrancoisRobespierre, radical Jacobin leader and one of the prominent figuresof the French revolution, said this long before Tyler Durden everdid.

Asimple egg base added with mint, pepper and cottage cheese becomes awinner of a snack. One of the more simple recipes in the book so faris also one of the tastiest.

Update

2012-01-11T19:51:00.003Z

Lapdancing club Silks Manchesterand boxing promoters KO Promotionsboth have Facebook profiles. Check them out. They are both awesomeorganisations in their own right. KO have used Silks' dancers as ringgirls for a number of their fight shows, including Warriors 6, anevent at which two of my friends fought and won. Details here. Silks Manchester and KO Promotions are now friends on Facebook, thanks to my suggestion. Matt Tuckey:social media powerhouse.

Here'show New Year looked for me and some friends, on top of Heartshead, a hill in Tameside:

So,very blurry, in short. With the naked eye, the fireworks wereincredible, giving us a panoramic vista including the whole ofGreater Manchester and beyond exploding in technicolour. Wildfirecameras are a bit crap, though. Might be time for an iPhone in a fewmonths, if can get one for £20pm. Realistic? Anyone?

December'salways a very busy month, what with present-buying etc. so findingtime to ask for blog retweets over Twitter hasn't been easy. I did,however, have the banter with porn star Phoenix Marie, who called me a “hot wanker” in an inbox message.

Somepeople just understand me the moment they meet me. You're a star,Phoenix!

Courtesy gcD7K, Flickr

James Ellroy and Psychology

2012-01-10T20:59:00.003Z

Piccourtesy The American Library Association, Flickr

“Claylies still, but blood's a rover; / Breath's a ware that will notkeep. / Up, lad; when the journey's over / There'll be time enoughfor sleep.”

-A.E. Housman, UK scholar / poet

Blood'sa Rover is the third piece in James Ellroy's Underworld Trilogy, asaga I spent the whole of 2011 reading. The books provide a rivetingfictionalised depiction of historical American events between 1958and 1972. There are plenty of reviews out there on the net, so Iwon't clog up cyberspace repeating other people, but I will say thatRover is a good book. The hallucinogen sequences were very memorable,set in Haiti where various characters learn to live and die. It'swell worth your time hammering through American Tabloid and The ColdSix Thousand to get to this. The book took me AGES to read- partlybecause of its size, and partly because of juggling it with anotherbook. In fact, I started it around the end of September and wasreading it sat outside my flat in the sun, topless, on the 1^stOctober, which was bizarre enough. I finished it on New Year's Eve,just before I went out. I just spent the whole of 2011 on a JamesEllroy trilogy. What a journey.

Ialso read Teach Yourself Psychology, a good introduction to thescience of understanding people. Dr Nicky Hayes takes us step by stepthrough how psychology affects us, taking in the workplace, sports,education and how and why we think in certain ways. In fact, this isa subject that could help anyone, no matter their occupation orlifestyle. It's a good, plain-English insight into a fascinating field. Iwas reading the book from the perspective of someone with memorydifficulties who has been in and out of psychology departments formost of my life. The book frequently comments on the way peopleremember-and forget- things, and used case studies to prove certainscientific facts. One trait that many people possess is a tendency to imagine certain things and mistake those thoughts for moments inreal life. For instance, one case study involved a group ofscientists showing some subjects a video of two cars colliding. “Halfwere asked, 'How fast were the cars going when they hit oneanother?', while the other half were asked 'How fast were the carsgoing when they smashed into one another?'

“Aweek later, they were asked whether there had been any broken glassin the film. There hadn't been any, and those who had been askedabout the cars hitting one another remembered that. But those who hadbeen asked about the cars smashing into one another distinctlyremembered broken glass strewn around the road, and were surprised tofind that it wasn't there when they saw the film again.”

Thisis something that happens to me a lot. For instance, I could be“reminding” someone of something they said to me, only to findout I've imagined it and mistaken what must have been a daydream forsomething that really happened. I've also found people telling methat I've said certain things, when I've known that what I actuallysaid was quite different.

Onething the book taught me is that, even though I've got thesedifficulties, I'm actually not that different to most people. I makepretty much all of the same mistakes as everyone else, only on a muchmore frequent basis.

Thebook also taught me one other important lesson. Psychology affectssports, and athletes need to be not only physically prepared to win,but mentally prepared too. As well as sports, the science can affectacademics in a similar way. Many athletes- and students- will use amethod called visualisation, where “the person imagines him/herselfgoing through the whole activity successfully- winning the race, orpassing the exam, or whatever it is. By concentrating only onpositive thoughts, and on systematically imagining the successfulscene, the person leaves no mental room for the doubts and worrieswhich would add to their level of stress.” Dr Hayes later notesthat the hurdler David Hemery used this strategy the year he won anOlympic gold medal.

Eventhough I'm a long way from being the person who should be telling youthis, I'll tell you anyway: people discuss self belief to the extentthat it becomes a cliché, a mindless mantra: if you believe you cando something, you can. I always thought it was psycho-babble- if Ibelieve I can knock a building down with my bare hands, I'm alunatic, not a confident and successful demolition expert.

Butthen, I don't want to knock a building down. I want to be asuccessful writer, and I want to overcome a social anxiety issue- afear of women, put simply. That's all it is. So, according to DrHayes, if I see myself having no discomfort, if I imagine myselftalking to women- and more- with no fear at all, then there will beno fear at all.

AndI am having that Goddamn Knopf contract.

Weaning Off Chocolate: Results

2012-01-05T21:59:00.005Z

Atthe start of December I decided to cut down on chocolate once and forall. Again. Check out Weaning off Chocolate, aplan to use an advent calendar to cut down on the amount of sugar Ieat.

Thegoals:

Improvement to strength and cardio at the gym.
Better concentration in work and with blogging/creative writing.
Calmer frame of mind overall, in work, with family and with friends, and when meeting new people.
To generally man up, stop being a wuss and stop eating women's food all the time. For Christ's sake!
I might even, as Lauer seems to suggest, find myself remembering a little more. You never know.

Asmall bite of chocolate was enough each day. Feelings of craving woreout fast. I had to remind myself to check if I'd eaten the day'schocolate by the end of the month. So how did I do with the goals?

1.I continued to smash the gym, as always. I made a meagre 5improvements.

Hipabductor 2 notches

Chestpress horizontal 1 notch

Chestpress vertical 1 notch

Absmachine 1 notch

Concentration in work has always been a difficult issue for me- partly due to my memory difficulties and partly to do with the fact that my job is repetitive. But if you're readying this, Employers-who-I-won't-name, I'm grateful to be in the situation I'm in. I can't say I've made much improvement there. But I didn't get noticeably worse. (Keep holding the blog name in mind...) I've also kept up with blogging. Last month I had 4925 hits- more per month than ever before.

3. How calm have I been? I've been a little more chilled out than usual, perhaps. Nothing noticeably stressful has happened to me.

4. I don't eat so much sugar as I used to. Have I manned up? Hell yeah! Can I back that up with an example? Hell no!

5. How's my memory? Still as shit as ever. Let's not be ridiculous now.

Ofcourse, for Christmas I got chocolate, among a few other things. Ireally wanted to pace it out and eat one piece a day like I had beendoing, but when a big bag of Cadbury's Caramels are looking at you,they're not going to last a week, are they? They're long gone, butI've not bought any more so far. Test of manhood: don't go to Tescofor more chocolate. I can do this. It is now time to think clearlyand face the rest of life's challenges.

Meeting David Prowse

2012-01-03T20:02:00.000Z

I do remember smiling quite a bitinside it though since I knew it wouldn't be seen on film - so ofcourse while the poor planet is being blown up I'm smiling andlaughing like mad!
-David Prowse

Here'sme with Dave Prowse MBE, most famous for his role as Darth Vader inthe original Star Wars trilogy. He also found fame in the 1970s asthe Green Cross Code Man in a series of British TV ads, encouragingroad safety for children.

Healso played F. Alexander's bodyguard, Julian, in A Clockwork Orange.He pops up all over the place!

On Saturday 17^th Decemberhe popped up in Waterstones Deansgate, signing copies of hisautobiography. “Straight From The Force's Mouth: The Autobiographyof Dave Prowse MBE” is on sale now. I got my signed copy.

Prowseis a very talented man and a nice gent.

I was on Danny Dyer's Deadliest Men on Bravo

2012-01-02T20:36:00.003Z

Granted,I wasn't the subject- my MMA instructors were, Dave and Ian Butlin.Dyer paid Quannum Martial Arts a visit in 2009. I met Dyer during atraining session, and a few months later I had a cameo on Bravo. It'staken me 'til this Christmas to actually search for it. Check me outon the punch bag at 1:00 in.

Toread my 2009 write-up of meeting Dyer, see here.

Did You Meet Brian Cox in Manchester?

2011-12-30T21:05:00.005Z

Pic courtesy Bob Lee, Flickr

On Wednesday 7^th December,particle physicist / TV presenter Brian Cox was signing copies of hisnew book, The Quantum Universe: Everything That Can Happen DoesHappen. He swung into Waterstones on Deansgate around lunchtime totalk about his book and answer questions.

Icouldn't make it to the event due to work, which is a bit gutting, soI'm throwing it out to you guys. Did you go, and do you want to writeit up and have your writing appear here?

matthewtuckey@hotmail.com.“PIASOM submission” in the subject field. You know the dance.I'll link back to your blog. Get on it!

We've done that before

2011-12-29T13:34:00.003Z

Pic courtesy Marsmet461, Flickr

Atthe last Writers Connect meetup before Christmas, a member suggestedwe perform a writing exercise on the prompt “Why not.” I remindedhim that he had suggested that one earlier. See here.

Itoccurred to me later that both him and I had done this exercise in atotally different writing group, and that the other members ofWriters Connect hadn't done it. But what the hell. We quickly decidedon a new prompt line.

“No,we've done that before.”

“Havewe?” she said. “When?”

“Aboutlast week, I think. You said it was too convoluted.”

“Isaid that?” she said, flipping to another page. “Well, theremight be another book. Check above the cooker, in the cupboard.”

Isighed. “I can't be bothered. Let's just stick with this one. Theinstructions are clearer. You don't need to get any stuff for iteither. We've got everything we need.”

“Thiswould be much easier if we were actually in the kitchen. At leastwith laminate flooring you can just mop up spills and whatever.”

“Don'tthink about that,” I said.

“Whynot?”

“Look,”I ordered. “Just let me take charge here, and it'll be good.” Iflipped a page. “The instructions are clearer on this one. Even youcould do it.”

“Oi”,she said, and tried to kick me. She didn't find it easy barefoot.“Anyway, I think you're right. We've got all we need. In fact,”she said, gripping the book, “ I don't think we need this at all.”

Shetook the Karma Sutra off me and pulled me to the floor.

Jeru Da Damaja in Rusholme?

2011-12-20T10:04:00.000Z

Checkout this awesome 90s rap video from understated lyricist Jeru DaDamaja.

Ifirst heard this on Tim Westwood's show on BBC Radio 1 in about 1996,just as I was getting into rap music and everyone in my(predominantly white Christian) school thought hip-hop was rubbish.As far as they were concerned it was black people's music, and therewere about 2 black people out of about 1200 pupils in the school.Today, 14 out of the 40 tunes in Radio 1's Singles Chart includeeither a black singer or rap verses- even if it's not actuallyhip-hop.

Havingsaid that, though, nowadays most of rap music IS rubbish, and it'swhite school kids who make up a large portion of the UK's musicpurchases- including, of course, the “hip hop” that makes it intothe charts.

Idigress. According to Twitter, Brooklyn rapper Jeru- who has alwaysmade REAL hip-hop- was in Manchester England on and around 10^thDecember. Nightlife website Skiddle confirms that he was performingat Mansion club in Rusholme, on the edge of the city.

Didanyone see him? And- I'll throw it out there- does anyone want towrite the night up? I'll let you guest-post here and link back to asite if you've got one. Get involved!

matthewtuckey@hotmail.com

Boiled Egg Fail

2011-12-16T23:16:00.001Z

Whyis it that I can perfect a cheese soufflé after just a couple ofgoes,

but boiling an egg- a prettyprimitive task- seems beyond my capabilities?

Oh,Keda. You let me down. I closely followed your instructions for“Boiled Egg and Spice Bread”. You said, “bring to the boil thencook for three minutes” for a cooked but runny yolk. Is theresomething wrong with my hob? 'Cause that's what I did. Result? Onehard-boiled egg.

DidI set the timer too late? Maybe I did. Maybe I shouldn't shift theblame.

Andwhat is “spice bread”? I asked the guy in Tesco, and he suggestedhot crossed buns. I'm not sure that's what Keda meant, as her diagramlooked like Soreen malt loaf. Either product is a good twist onnormal toast I supposed.

Itried again the next day. This time I tried pouring boiling water,straight from the kettle, over the egg in the pan. I gave it fourminutes from then, on full hob heat. This time the egg wasundercooked, so I slammed it in the microwave for 30 seconds. When Itook it out, it looked like this:

Sigh.

I'mreminded of this inspiring quote:

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'”

-Mary Anne Radmacher, author of motivational books

Andthat's what I did. I gave Soreen a shot. I got thetiming right somehow, so the egg was just right, but Soreen is shitfor dunking! Bread is absorbent and takes up the yolk. Toast is justas absorbent but tougher, so stays dunkable without collapsing, butSoreen is like dunking cheese- it takes nothing in and squidges allover the show. Whatever it was Keda photographed under the heading“spice bread”, it's nothing I've ever seen before.

Iguess cooking islike most things in my life. Most people my age can do it, becauseit's- on the whole- pretty simple. But I struggle. Yet I surprisepeople with all sorts of shit that I've learned in 29 years. I taughta group of MMA fighters the meaning of “Buridan's Ass.” I developed novel methods of building blog readership, with lots ofsuccess.

Eggmetaphor alert: I'm just going to have to keep cracking away at mycooking. I can't let it go off the boil. I'll have to keep soldiering on. Okay, that's enough.

Help Save Every Night Erotica

2011-12-14T19:31:00.000Z

Afew months ago, Every Night Erotica- a superb online fictionmagazine- published my story, “Afterwards”. The erotic fiction E-magazine publishes one story every night. As youmight guess. It even pays for submissions!

Themag is having a bit of a tough time at the moment- not for financialreasons, it says, but due a lack of contributors!

EditorJennifer Case says:

“Weneed your sexy stories in order to keep up our daily publications orwe won't survive. So please, we are asking for your help! Sendyour submissions tohttp://www.everynighterotica.com/submit-story/ usingour online form. Please email directly if you have any problems usingour online submissions process. And please pass this pleaalong to your sexy writer friends -- there is plenty of room foreveryone to get published.

“We are also acceptingyour XXX-mas stories for the holiday season!

“Rememberour guidelines; stories must be 2000 words or less (or you can divideyour story into two as long as each part is balanced with enougherotic sex to satisfy your reader!) and your story must be edited forcontinuity, spelling and grammar. You may submit only your storiesyou have the rights to if they have been published in the past. Andyou may submit up to three stories simultaneously!

“Checkout our site for all the genres we publishwww.everynighterotica.com.”

So-erotica writers- get scribbling, polish your work off and get it sentin. You'll be paid, you'll get your work seen alongside mine andthere's the potential for the whole online world to read your work.Just write good, and you're onto a winner.

There is no greater food on Earth than pizza.

2011-12-12T14:55:00.000Z

Imake myself pizza if it comes down to that drastic measurement.
-Corey Haim, actor

Mysituation may not be quite as drastic as Corey's was, but thankfully,cookbook writer Keda Black stuck my fave dish- Pizza Margherita- at the start of the book that I'm working through. I bought acouple of bases so I could be sure I'd get it right. Challenges:

I live in a 1-bedroom council flat. The kitchen is tiny, with limited workspace.
I don't own a garlic crusher. Instead I used a knife, cutting it as thin as possible, kind of like they do in Goodfellas' prison scene.

Keda suggested flattening cherry tomatoes with a spatula to make the sauce, which I would never have thought of. I'd have gone for a tube of puree like I used to at my mum's. I'd also have automatically used Cheddar- Keda wisely listed Mozzarella.

The result: a taste sensation. Athousand times more flavoursome than a Tesco pizza. There's plenty ofcheese in this blog post already, but regardless: I'm moving forwardhere. I'm getting good in the kitchen, and no longer feeling like aculinary lost boy. (That's a Corey Haim tie-in joke. Never mind.)

Weaning Off Chocolate

2011-12-11T10:20:00.001Z

Researchershave discovered that chocolate produces some of the same reactions inthe brain as marijuana. The researchers also discovered othersimilarities between the two but can't remember what they are.

-MattLauer, US TV Journalist

Thisblog is about improving life. Particularly mine, but hopefully itwill affect a few others as well. Most of these entries are myattempts to fine tune everything I do to make me a better person.Through this blog, I've experimented with weightlifting, tried tolive off the cheapest possible food, then tried to live off anythingbut, tried a range of exercise classes, and experimented with socialmedia and blogging so that my blog- including write-ups of all ofthese experiments- get seen online by as many people as possible.

Today,I'm still looking to sharpen myself up. I have fears to conquer,skills to develop (see my cookery posts) and belief to build on. Eventhough some of these need working on constantly, like cooking, others I like to focus on for one month. Sometimes this is a majortask, like attempting to get my blog noticed in Hollywood, or just a little gym exercise like getting the most out of yourmembership by trying all the classes.

Atthe end of November my mum bought me a Cadbury's advent calendar.Yes, I know. I'm 29. Well. I certainly have an awesome mum. As Iplaced it on my fireplace, an idea hit me. At the time, I was tryingto cut down on chocolate, to no avail. Chocolate contains a number ofaddictive chemicals, but which chemicals scientists are still trying to nail down.

Anaddiction- which, I suppose, I've got- implies a dependency on acertain chemical or chemicals. If I was to stop eating chocolateright now, my hands would itch, I'd lose concentration, I'd be tiredpermanently and eventually I'd just give up and buy a gluttonous 400gbar of Dairy Milk and smash the lot. And feel sickeningly guilty.Then repeat the cycle. (Writing this is making me want to nip toTesco right now. Shit...)

Imanaged to go without chocolate for about 6 weeks back in 2008. Itwas hard. After the 5^th week, though, the cravings startedto die off and I was enjoying eating more healthily- particularlymeat- and was doing well at the gym. I was also, for the first timeever, doing pretty well with girls. I think there's a connection. Onone memorable date, though, a girl took me to a bar with a chocolatefountain. I fell back in again. To addiction, I mean. Not thefountain.

I'mnot going to cut chocolate out completely this month. ThroughDecember so far, I've eaten only a tiny bite-size drop of chocolateper day, from my advent calendar, normally first thing in themorning. I'm hoping this constant drip-feed of chocolate will beregular and small enough to “wean” me off. I'm not buying anymore than this, and the only other chocolate I'll have will bepowdered, with hot milk (insomnia remedy). I'm obviously a fair wayinto the challenge right now (forgetfulness- I thought of this inNovember) but...

Providednobody buys me any chocolate for Christmas, I will be able to cut itout for the foreseeable future.

Thegoals:

Improvement to strength and cardio at the gym.
Better concentration in work and with blogging/creative writing
Calmer frame of mind overall, in work, with family and with friends, and when meeting new people.
To generally man up, stop being a bitch and stop eating women's food all the time. For Christ's sake!
I might even, as Lauer seems to suggest, find myself remembering a little more. You never know.

I'mdoing pretty good so far. For anyone thinking they eat too muchchocolate, the run-up to Christmas is the perfect time to startcutting down, contrary to what you might expect. I'll blog again in amonth to see whether I'm still plagued with chocoholism.

Huddersfield Road: Fast Food Overload

2011-12-09T22:09:00.001Z

Thisjust opened down the road from me in Oldham.

Itsits over the road from The Taj Mahal takeaway. You know, next to theother Indian takeaway. And the Chinese. Which leads onto the Subway,the Pizza Hut Delivery, the chippy and a number of other Asiantakeaways. In fact, after chowing down in the Colonel's new outlet, Idid a quick count-up of fast food joints on that section ofHuddersfield Road. Within about 100 metres, there's a grand total of17 fast food eateries.

Thereare plenty of other takeaways like this across the borough. There areplenty other nearby streets like this as well. In fact, you could saythe whole town is “saturated” with them. Boom boom.

Isthis why “41,000people in Oldham are obese (Body Mass Index (BMI) >30), with anadditional 36,000 men and 31,000 women overweight (BMI 25 – 30).”http://www.oldham.gov.uk/jsna_5_health_related_behaviour.pdf

Theother question is, why do I keep banging on about fast food on myblog? And why do I keep trying out these outlets as they open? Iespecially shouldn't, seeing as I spend a large portion of my life inone gym or another, trying to get back to the (pretty impressive)shape I was in before I moved out. And it's not like I don't knowwhat I'm going to experience in these restaurants. Also, a goodnumber of my posts are about working out, and aside from that I writeabout Manchester, not Oldham. Hmm.

Regardless,I gave the Colonel one chance to redeem himself. The new restaurantis clean and smart. The staff are friendly. The food tastes good.I've no complaints. KFC is KFC. But seriously, that's quite enoughfast food joints on Huddersfield Road, thanks. There might be onespace left for a liposuction clinic. If it keeps its prices modest,it will have a LOT of business.

Quiche

2011-12-08T20:56:00.001Z

Breakdown to pieces, make cocaine quiches

Moneypiled high as my nieces

Rapper “Pusha T” (?)

Crusadingforth through Keda Black's cookbook, I had a bash at this traditionalFrench dish. Mine, unlike Pusha's, did not have a Colombian slant toit.

Itfirst involved making pastry, which I didn't knead for long enough.When I took it out of the fridge an hour after making, it was stillsticky. I left it overnight and rolled it out the next morning on akitchen work surface. It STILL stuck to the breadboard. I added somemore flour before rolling it out.

Imixed up the quiche ingredients, but had to guess-measure the creamas the mixture itself was in my only mixing jug. After cooking,cooling and fridge-ing the dish, I gave it a shot.

Itwas good. It was better than I'd expected. I wasn't sure that thepastry had formed properly, being a bit soft, but it tasted fine.Better than fine. The only problem was, the recipe was for fourpeople. It was a feast. I only got about a third of the way throughbefore I had to bin it. The thought of freezing it in portions didn'tcross my mind for some reason, the parents were away (again) so Icouldn't give it to them, and I don't think many friends are ready totrust my cooking yet. I don't even know if I do. Especially with adish like this, which people tell me is one of the more complicatedones. Come on, Keda, you could have stuck that in later in the book!

Butthat's why I'm doing this. When I got this cookbook for my birthday,I thought, I'd really liketo be able to use this. But I'm going to do it all wrong.

Ihave short-term memory difficulties stemming from a complication atbirth. After recent conversations with family and a few memoryspecialists, we've nailed down a hard home truth. I expect things togo wrong. I expect to fail, and because I expect I will, I do. Iexpect I will, however, because I have experienced 29 years of makingthe same mistakes and NOT remembering what went wrong. This hasresulted in repeatedly NOT being able to foresee problems and avertthem.

Butthis doesn't mean things will always be this way. I learned to driveand passed first time in 2002. I've got a 2:1 BSc Hons inProfessional Broadcast Techniques. I've developed methods oforganisation, using a phone, diaries and notebooks, to make surethings happen when they should. I devised a lever-arch file systemfor any info pertaining to the flat. I've had a number of pieces ofwriting published and have held down a public sector job for threeyears. I've also got a forty-thousand hit blog. I've learned toimprove my writing. I've learned how to tailor my writing to attractblog hits using Search Engine Optimisation. If the human race canthrive by cooking and eating decent food, there's no reason why Ican't join them on that, is there?

Andso, I cook on, under the guidance of the very knowledgeable KedaBlack. Stay tuned for more meal-making malarky.

Synaesthesia For Ten Minutes

2011-12-06T09:40:00.001Z

“Synaesthesia,in its simplest form, is best described as a “union of the senses”whereby two or more of the five senses that are normally experiencedseparately are involuntarily and automatically joined together.”-UK Synaesthesia

Seehttp://www.uksynaesthesia.com/for more info.

Ata recent writer's group, a member explained this condition. A personaffected by synaesthesia might see a certain colour and imaginehearing a particular sound, or might experience a certain event thatthey would then describe with a colour. The writer at our group haddeveloped a writing exercise based on the notion of a colour linkingto some of the other senses. She provided a range of pictures andasked us each to pick one that intrigued us. The ten minute exercise:Link the picture and the theme of synaesthesia within a story.

Ididn't totally get it, to be honest, but I gave it a shot. Here's thepicture I picked:

Here'sthe writing I wrote.

Janesat at the kitchen work surface, surrounded by food. She had starvedherself for two days, as a personal challenge. Her hands shook as shelaid out the fruit and veg on the table.

Herhunger pangs had driven her senses to a heightened level. Tirednesshad made her ravenous and now, with the uncooked banquet in front ofher, consumption was paramount. But something was different. Shepicked up a carrot, still caked in dried soil, and bit into it.

Shewas no longer sat in her kitchen. Her work surface dissolved intohard mud. She could see the sky above her, the earth ploughed intorows, a distant tractor coughing out dirt and uprooting vegetables.

Shechewed as the crows cried out above her head.

Whenshe swallowed, she was jammed back into her kitchen chair in aninstant. To her left, in a bed of crushed ice, lay a solitary deadhaddock. She looked at the fish. It looked at her. She scooped it upin one hand. They stared face-to-face. Her work surface morphed intocorrugated iron. A motor churned loudly.

Not Meeting Lee Evans

2011-12-05T17:15:00.001Z

Free Cards to Promote Your Blog

2011-12-04T14:48:00.001Z

Keepyour eyes peeled for these little beauties doing the rounds in andaround Manchester...

Ifyou're a blogger it's a good plan to check out Vistaprint, a firm providing a wide range of office / business-based merchandise.The web-based company will give you 250 cards for free. Choose from42 different designs. The site is easy to use and they deliver topretty much everywhere in the world. You even get a snazzy free metalcase to store them in.

Theupside to having a blog card: You can always let people know your URLif you've featured something that they might be interested in. Theycan take it with them and, as long as they have the card, they'llremember you. It's handy for writing events, blog meetups, feedbackgroups or just for “accidentally” leaving around the place.

Thedownside to having a blog card: You look like these guys.

The Art of Blogging: Part 2

2011-12-03T17:15:00.001Z

PhotoCourtesy Rightee, Flickr

Havingbeen to a fascinating talk by the ever knowledgeable Kate Feld,curator of Manchester blogging resource The Manchizzle, I came home with pages and pages of notes about finding your feet-and your niche- in the blogosphere. Kate, like many other socialmedia experts, advised us that blog posts should be kept to around500 words. People's patience on the internet, she reminds us, is veryshort. Hence, I've split this subject into two blog posts. The firstinstalment is here.

Hereare a few examples of fine Manchester blogging shown on the OHP atthe event.

Gill Moore Photography, a Manchester-based photo blog.

Having a Party Without Me, a very zany music review site

The Naughty Index. This woman is a legend. The concept of her blog issimple: she approaches women in the street and asks them to undressfor the camera. Most refuse. Some do not. “The whole 'asking women to take their clothes off' thing, well,let's gloss over that,” says Kate. “But it's good!” Agreed.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road, a Manchester-based arts and culture blog.

My Shitty Twenties, written by a very eloquent young lady about her life as a singlemum. Kate tells us that this mummy-blogger had thought very carefullyabout how much of her son's life- and her own life- she was going topublicise through the blog, and how it might affect her boy, Tom, ashe grew up. The blogger herself is anonymous, living in SouthManchester.

Kateshows us a range of fascinating sites based outside of Manchester.Here's Delightfully Tacky, written by “a not-so-reformed tomboy with a love for vintage, art,music and the charm of tacky, kitschy things most often foundlingering in the 70's”. It's appropriately retro-designed andphotographed. The author, Elizabeth, gained popularity a few yearsago by reviewing women's fashion. It wasn't long before fashionlabels began to send her clothes for her to review. Kate has beenreading this for some time; she suggests that Elizabeth's earlierposts were more entertaining before sponsorship started to change theblog's style and content.

Gawker is a very sarcastic but very funny celebrity blog. Kate tellsus that the site has a team of bloggers updating the site every houror so. Oh, to be as advanced as that!

The Tiny Sartorialist is a gem of a blog, written from the perspective of a very capableone-year-old. Marshall Ace, a “baby and fashion blogger,” isbeautifully photographed by his parents (who doubtlessly double ashis ghost-writing team) whilst wearing a range of cutting-edge babyclothes. I defy even the most stoney-hearted of non-child people notto aww at their screens. I know I did. Marshall, like Elizabeth atDelightfully Tacky, also receives clothes from fashion houses hopingto get publicity.

Readingup on good blogs is one way to find your feet as a blogger, but goodsolid advice from a successful blogger is essential. At her events,Kate certainly provides that. Here are some top tips:

Be generous with links. Provide opportunities to read something other than your own blog. Don't feel like you're sending them away from your blog. Links are like your karma: they come back. Make sure you're links are useful and suit the style and content of your blog. Make sure your links open in a separate tab, so your site stays open. On Blogger there's a box to tick on the “insert hyperlink” page.

Blogs are traditionally text-based websites, but due to the advancement of technology that's not strictly the case. Most blogging platforms allow for the inclusion of photos, videos and sound. Mixing these in will make your blog more lively and engaging. Also, your readers may find it easier to take in your information if it's presented in a different medium. A cookery blog, for instance, NEEDS pictures. Short Youtube videos might also help. A music blog wouldn't be a music blog without embedded Youtube videos or Soundcloud music tracks. Kate also suggests Audioboo, a site allowing you to record sound quickly and embed it into your blog, and Audacity, free open-source sound editing software.

Whatwas your take on the blogs above? And have you used any of thesesound packages? How well did they work for you?

Hidden Published Pieces

2011-11-30T16:20:00.001Z

Pic coutesy Dragaroo, Flickr

Jacobthe mountain lion lies comatose in his cell, thinking. He wants to dosomething drastic. He can't move, though, and stays slumped in thecorner, watching. Waiting. His computer, which he has been usingsince becoming literate some months ago, hasn't been switched on fordays. The zoo keeper has worked very closely with the zoologicalconsultant, Fluffy Oakes, but neither can diagnose him. Jacob,sprawled on the floor of his enclosure, lies still, breathing slowly.His heartbeat is regular; he's eating steadily in small measures. Thetwo employees suspect diabetes, although it is unusual for hisspecies.

When he was in Newcastle, Jacob says, he bought an instant cold pack, a flu remedy. It set hishead straight. He tried an energy drink that gave him the strength tostay alert the whole trip. It was incredible. Without that strength,the trip could have descended into anarchy.

Itdid, Fluffy reminds him. But regardless, says the consultant. I'llgive it a go. Let's get you some meds.

Dayslater, the order arrives. The zoo receives a delivery of a largequantity of instant cold packs and energy drinks. The staff move akettle into Jacob's lair. He's taught to use it safely- part of hisfreedom training, even though the release scheme is still on hold.

Azoo porter, a young, enthusiastic lad, tentatively enters Jacob'senclosure and begins emptying a bottle into a steel trough.

“Youngfella,” Jacob mumbles.

Theporter looks into Jacob's sad eyes. The cat still has all his muscle.His groomed coat shows no sign of wear or infection. The lad poursthe last of the bottle into the trough. His shaking hands let everydrop fall out.

“You'vegot to help me,” says Jacob pitifully, his pride stinging him. “I'mgonna need more than that. This calls... for some serious... sugar.”

“Ican only give you one bottle,” says the boy.

“Haveyou ever had a cat die on you?”

Theboy slouches slightly. His eyes narrow, like he's concentrating.

“Happenedto me once,” says Jacob. “Before you joined us. Horrible feeling.They just didn't listen to her. She needed sugar for type 2 diabetes,but they didn't believe the cat family were prone to it. She was awonderful woman.”

Theboy has backed to the door, facing the sprawling, giant feline.

Jacobmoves his head for eye-contact. “You wouldn't want that kind ofguilt on your shoulders, boy. Not at your age. I can administer itmyself. Just haul it all in here. I'll take full responsibility.”

Theboy looks over his shoulder through the enclosure's window. Thepallet of drinks is on a pump-truck. It's narrow enough for him towheel it straight in through the enclosure's entrance. He does sonervously, banging the pallet's edges on the corners of the door.

“Godbless you,” whimpers Jacob.

Theboy, damp with sweat, leaves and locks the door with a sigh.

Jacoblies listening to the boy's footsteps echoing down the corridor,followed by the cold, metal slam of the enclosure's door.

That'swhen he leaps to his feet. He blows the dust off his computer andfires it up. Behind the rocks and branches in his cell, he pulls outa makeshift laboratory of sorts- tubes, beakers, a Bunsen burner andgas supply- all mail-ordered black-market packages the zoo neverthought to check on. He assembles the work station. He sparks theBunsen. He mixes solutions and breaks down compounds. He develops formulas and reforms elements to new compounds. He evaporates,distils, and purifies until- from the litres of energy drinks and fluremedies- only a dribble remains. It looks like a shot of vodka. Thisliquid has a much bigger kick, however, than any other spirit you'dfind in a bar- even a Russian one.

Ifhis science is right, Jacob has made enough ammonium nitrate to blastthrough his enclosure wall.

Hepicks a brick near the bottom of the wall and, where the top ledge ofthe stone meets the mortar, he takes the pipette and adds droplets ina row. He works quickly to avoid evaporation. He picks up the kettle.He turns it upside down, still holding it by the handle, and closeshis eyes. Jacob slams the appliance into the cold, concrete floor. Herips off the remaining plastic and extracts the heating element. Hepaws at the component and watches it spark. The solution isevaporating, so he works quickly. If this doesn't work, his entireplan will fall through. He pulls the work station noisily to the rockand stands behind it for shelter. He mimes a couple of throws, thencrouches behind the rock, the table a makeshift roof.

Thegate CLANGS again at the end of the enclosure. The staff are ontohim. He takes a deep breath, and launches the element at the wall.

Theblast is deafening. The alarms trip, shrieking into every area of thezoo. Brick fragments and mortar fly past him, slamming into theopposite wall. A cloud of dust fills the room. Animals inneighbouring cells screech and hoot and roar. Jacob bounds over thetable, through the smoke and ashes, into the new cavern formed by theexplosion. The lights are on inside the zoo but the daylight,breaking through from the other side, still dazzles him. The outsideManchester air is colder now, much colder than Newcastle was a fewmonths previously. He enters the tunnel, loosening bricks with hisshoulders, widening the cavern and broadening the beam of light. Heprowls forward. Freedom is a lunge away-

It'sgold, or looks like it. It's some kind of plaque, buried deep intothe wall.

Jacobhas stopped. His bladder swells. Why was it built over? Hethinks. And when? This zoo was a mill before it closed. Even ifthis was an extension, it would have been built before the Internetwas available in Britain. When these bricks were set, the Web washandled only by a group of tech geeks in the States. This is tooweird, thinks Jacob.

Ashadow passes over him. He looks back to the cell. A man in a gasmask fires a tranquilliser gun. There's a thumpas the dart lands in Jacob's thigh.

Hepauses, looks at the dart, then looks at his exit. He makes a lungefor the opening, but slumps in sudden exhaustion, his nose a whiskeraway from the outside world, his tail just touching the plaque, whichreads:

Additionalpublished work by Matt Tuckey:

Stakeoutin Thrillers, Chillers and Killers

http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/2010/01/stakeout-by-matt-tuckey.html?zx=23d6bfba2ceb0a0a

WinterCanons- a short fiction anthology to which Matt has no recollectionof submitting

http://midwestliterarymagazine.com/books/anthologies/winter-canons/

https://www.createspace.com/3537298

Anadvert for The Knife Job, a script Matt wrote, on the website for thenow-disbanded Northern Film Networkhttp://www.northernfilmnetwork.com/blog/are-you-looking-for-a-script

Conversation with Insane European Woman on Facebook

2011-11-25T14:07:00.001Z

Pic courtesy dmix06, Flickr

Thefollowing is too funny for me not to share with you. A woman fromEurope asked me for some blogging advice a few days ago. I gave herwhat pointers I could, and gave her a link to my blog- largely justto get another page view. A few days later, she sent me an addrequest. I added her because, at that point, I recognised her. A weekor so later, I had typically forgotten why I'd added her. Her updateswere appearing in my news feed, in Greek typeface. I was confused,and took the risk of expressing this bemusement in a status update.She read this update and, understandably, threw in her own twopennies. Here's a transcript of my Facebook status and comments.Surnames have been removed. It's raw and only a little edited soplease excuse the Facebook grammar.

Inboxmsg from Greek lady: "fucking son of bitch, it's you who sent mea friend request. Just for this reason i hate all English - all of uconsider urselves a big piece of shit!" Okaaaaay.

Like · Share · 20 November at 21:04 near Oldham

Sara, Roland, Francine and 7 others like this.

Soyeah, quite a day. She blocked me eventually. Why people come to mewith this shit I have no idea, but one thing is for certain- there istruly no point starting an argument over Facebook- especially if youcan't physically lay a hand on them later on, due to distance. ButI'm not going to get all preachy on you. If you want to read anarticle on social media etiquette, there's plenty of blogs out therefor that. This is just another example of how stupid, weird and crazysituations tend to find me without me even looking. But having saidthat, if you go mental at someone over the internet- someone you knowto be a blogger- what do you think is going to happen?

PSWhile we're on the subject, ladies, I have a Facebook-relatedquestion to ask you. Men sending random friend requests to women:good move or bad move? I accepted a random add and got a relationshipout of it, so I know where I stand.

The Tale of Jimbob, the Thirty-Year-Old Jelly Baby

2011-11-21T21:38:00.001Z

Pic Courtesy Dannymx, Flickr

Thefollowing is a short audio play I wrote and produced for my GNVQMedia course circa 1999. This week I dug out the script and polishedit up. I've made only minor grammar adjustments. It's just for fun.What do you think?

JIMBOB(Narration)

What'syour earliest memory? Is it from when you were a baby? Mine is. Cometo think of it, so's my second. And third. In fact, my memory ofyesterday's breakfast is from this time. It's not like I haven'taged, I just haven't ever put on weight in any shape or form frombirth. Until recently, I had only a few wispy ideas as to why.

SOUNDOF MOTORBIKE STOPPING

JIMBOB(Narration)

Steppingoff my tailor-made Harley Davidson, dressed in my protective leatherpants and jacket, I looked up at the old converted Victorianwarehouse known locally as Affleck's Temple. The name “Temple”arose partly because of the stone columns in front of the buildingand also because of the high regard locals held for this shop in itsformer days of glory. I was hoping that my curiosity of this shopwould be satisfied, as I had heard many odd rumours about this place.

Ichecked my 30 centimetre appearance in the mirrored door. Tucking myt-shirt in tight, I stepped inside.

SOUNDOF DOOR OPENING WITH A CHIME. WE ARE NOW INSIDE THIS SHOP. WE CANHEAR SOME BACKGROUND MUSIC, POSSIBLY SON OF A PREACHERMAN.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Iwas expecting the usual gob-smacked look of disbelief which I havetolerated for thirty years, but the only other person in thebuilding, a thin pale man with long dark hair seemed about as shockedas a sleeping gorilla.

MRSTONED

Morning.

JIMBOB(Taken aback)

M-morning.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Immediately,I sensed something was amiss. I'd never seen this bloke in my life,but there wasn't a hint of surprised in his presumably drug-inducedexpression.

SOUNDOF ELECTRICITY

JIMBOB

Whoa.Never seen these before.

MR.STONED

That'sa plug socket, mate.

JIMBOB

Oh!Oh.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Sincewhen, I thought, had plug sockets been five centimetres thick, inthree uneven sections and emitted a thin blue light every threeseconds? I stepped back cautiously and looked around, squinting inthe dim light. The main source of light seemed to be coming fromanother room, around a few corners. I followed this light into asmall offset area...

INSERTMUSIC- THEME TO SPACE 1999

JIMBOB(Narration)

...Completelyempty, except for one backlit shelf, holding a large egg. I wasenthralled. Moving a nearby stepladder and climbing up it, I went topick it up. But as I did-

MUSICCUTS OFF

JIMBOB(Narration)

Thelight went out. I was in darkness. I did the only thing I could thinkof, and put it back on the shelf.

MUSICSWELLS AGAIN

JIMBOB(Narration)

Viathe light of the egg, I managed to see the way out of the room andplan my escape. I took my chances.

SOUNDOF BREAKING GLASS.

JIMBOB

Whoops.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Ichecked my wallet, and realised I had no money and no credit cards.As shelves covered most of the walls, right to the ground, I couldsee no place to bang my head. But I wasn't going to let this stop mefrom obtaining this mystical item. It became clear to me that I wasgoing to have to shoplift. I put the egg discreetly under my coat andheaded for the exit. As I approached the door,

SOUNDOF HOWLING WIND RISES

JIMBOB(Narration)

Ifelt a burning sensation in the area of the egg. A dazzling light,coming from under my coat, blinded me. Holding the now-shining egg infront of me, I heard a voice.

THEMYSTERIOUS VOICE

Jimbob.Look at what your race has done.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Amontage of images flashed before me: a sewage pipe opening into thesea, car exhausts billowing smoke, large trees being cut to theground and, most shockingly, reels of films being cut and spliced.

JIMBOB

Why?Why have we done this?

THEMYSTERIOUS VOICE

Myapprentice will explain.

MRSTONED

Don'tyou see mate? Human beings have evolved to the stage ofself-destruction. God is using Man to destroy the Earth. He neverintended for life to exist eternally on Earth and now he is sendingthe Earth back into the Sun.

JIMBOB(sarcastically)

Sowhy are you telling me? Am I the only person to have come into thisforgotten temple?

MRSTONED

There'ssomething else you wanted to know isn't there?

JIMBOB

Er...

MR.STONED (singing)

#Theshin bone's connected to the- knee bone, the- knee bone's connectedto the-

JIMBOB

Ohyeah. What about me? Why have I never grown?

THEMYSTERIOUS VOICE

Thirtyyears ago, Jimbob, you were conceived in the disabled toilet of aMcDonald's restaurant.

JIMBOB

No!It can't be true!

MYSTERIOUSVOICE

I'mafraid it is. Just deal with it. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Thevile fumes and piles of waste damaged your cells and you were neverto grow again. Your bones formed as lumps of gelatine, thereforemaking you a literal human jelly baby. As for the egg you have inyour hand- that is the egg.

JIMBOB

Whategg?

MYSTERIOUSVOICE

Youknow the phrase- which came first, the chicken or the egg?

JIMBOB

THISis the actual proverbial egg?

MYSTERIOUSVOICE

Yes.

JIMBOB

Soit was the egg? That came first?

MYSTERIOUSVOICE

Nomortal will ever know. You tried to steal the egg. You wanted to keepthe meaning of life to yourself, but only I, the Sovereign Lord, willknow. Oh, and my apprentice, Mr Stoned.

MRSTONED

Yup.

THEMYSTERIOUS VOICE

Youare an individual, Jimbob. No-one on Earth is as original as you.

HOWLINGWIND FADES OUT

JIMBOB(Narration)

Thelight receded and only the outside daylight remained. Shaking, Ihanded the egg back to Mr. Stoned.

JIMBOB

Ithink I'll leave this with you.

MR.STONED

Yeah,see you mate.

JIMBOB(Narration)

Istepped outside into the cool daylight. My Harley was there, just asI'd left it. Stepping on, shaking slightly, I switched on theignition and rode off, my mind a race of thoughts. The man in thetemple was right. We're evolving to destroy ourselves. I suppose I'dbetter make the most of this world while I've got the time.

[SOUNDFROM OPENING OF EASY RIDER- MOTORBIKE STARTS UP, THEN STEPPENWOLF'SBORN TO BE WILD KICKS IN. FADE OUT.]

Cheese Soufflé Calamity

2011-11-20T16:56:00.001Z

Matilda-Is life always this hard, or just when you're a kid?

Leon-Always this hard.

-Anexchange from Luc Besson's awesome 1994 thriller, Leon.

Whoeversaid “Hard work pays off” has clearly never attempted to make acheese soufflé. Yesterday, my hard work did not pay off. I'vefinally made a start on the recipes in my Classics cookbook. Andguess what? I fucked it up. I followed the instructions word forword, but I still encountered a problem. Nobody- author Keda Blackincluded- told me that “separate the eggs” meant “take theyolks out”. I didn't acknowlede this until I realised I had to whiskthe whites- which I'd already stirred into the just-cooled bechamelsauce.

Shit.

Butanyway, I continued and cooked it for the required time. The dishcontents didn't raise like I thought it would- this due to the flourbeing three months out of date, unbeknown to me. But it still lookedabout right, and tasted pretty good.

Themain drawback to this dish- and any other dish more complex than astir fry- is that the effort put in always far outweighs the pay-off.It wasn't an amazing meal, and I felt pretty robbed afterwards.Having spent about an hour preparing and cooking it, I wolfed it downin about ten minutes. Such is life.

Thequestion is now- do I attempt this meal again, and get it right, ormove on to another dish?

How Long is Your Blogroll?

2011-11-17T22:06:00.001Z

Belowand to the right, you'll find around 50 links to superb blogs listedin two columns- one for Manchester-based blogs and one for blogsbeing pushed out of any other corner of the world. If you're ablogger and you want your site on the list, get in touch on thecomments and I'll have a butcher's at your blog. If it's my kindathing, on you go.

Ifyou have a blog, get yourself one or more blogrolls like the ones Ihave. Show you contribute to the blogosphere as a networker, not justa writer hammering out his own work into the vortex. Get involved.

Iupdate Power is a State of Mind as regularly as possible- a couple oftimes a week usually. Through a lot of hard graft, frequentuploading, self-promotion and commenting, I've managed to amass adecent amount of hits recently. (My page views were on four figuresat the start of this year.) Due to the traffic I'm getting, you'll begetting some too if you're linked here. Aren't you lucky?! Well, staylucky. Keep uploading. Even if it's just a short update or round-upof events in your sector. Regular uploads = stats. I'm not the firstto say this, but the reason I am saying this: PIASOM moves quick.Every link on the blogroll is under a month old. When it goes over amonth, I knock it off. If that link is your blog, that's one lessinroad for page views to your site. Not to be a cock, but I'd amassed10,000 page views in March. I've now got 37,000. I've done this bycommenting, Facebooking and tweeting like a mo-fo every day in orderto publicise my posts. I've also done a little reading into Search Engine Optimisationand I try to tailor my writing to benefit from Google. This has alsobrought in a lot of stats.

Thepoint I'm trying to make, in a sort-of 'round-the-houses kinda way,is that I want my blog to be “happening” and “relevant” andother cool words such as these. If I have month-old links toneglected blogs next to my writing, “Happening” might not beconsidered relevant to that section of the screen. Now, your blog isyour blog. Do what you like with it and update it when YOU want. Butif you don't upload within the month, goodbye my friend. You're offthe Power blogroll. But blog little and often, and promote yourposts, and you will get traffic. Possibly, in part, from me.

The Art of Blogging

2011-11-15T22:34:00.001Z

Kate Feld,Manchester-based writer and curator of The Manchizzle, gave a great seminar on Thursday 10^that the Cornerhouse Theatre.

TheArt of Blogging taught us how to start a blog and what we needed todo to gather our all-important first readers.

Katestarted by explaining the purpose of The Manchizzle, a site roundingup all of the Manchester-based blogs (Find Power is a State of Mindunder Lit and Writing Blogs) with occasional posts about Manchester'sblogging community. If you're a Manchester blogger, she says, get intouch through the blog and she'll add you on.

Blog about your passion, Kate advised. If you're not interested in what you're talking about, your readers will notice. And they will not come back to your site.

Use social media tools like Twitter and Facebook to promote your posts. If you don't use these, as a blogger you're missing out.

Add a Twitter widget to your blog. This will allow readers to communicate more easily, and will show people how you're communicating with others. At the moment this is broken for Blogger. Boo.

Add an image to each post to break up the text. Like me, she tends to put the image at the top of the blog post. Use Flickr for copyright-free images. Flickr has a range of pictures with creative commons licenses, meaning you can use them for free provided you credit the owner. If you use a copyrighted image, the owner can make you pay for each day you've had the picture up.

Gulp.

Using the Advanced Search function, You can tick a box for creative commons-only pictures, meaning you won't get sued if you use them. Hmm. As Hunter S Thompson once said, many a fine book has been written in prison.

Taking your own pictures is a quick and easy way of getting around this problem.

Kate gave a quick overview of the different blogging platforms available online. Blogger is the simplest, she says (I agree that it's simple). It works well with most kinds of multimedia. Wordpress is more customisable but hence more complicated. Posterous is good for mixing and linking with other social media platforms. Tumblr blogs are pretty but have no comment function.

Once you've started your blog, you want people to read it. The next step: read other blogs. Comment on their posts. This makes a link back to your own blog, and page views follow. Include a blogroll on your blog, a list of links to other blogs that you like. (Side note- as PIASOM is partly about Manchester, I separated my blogroll into two lists- Manchester and worldwide.)
Kate points out that allowing comments on your blog provides the opportunity for discussion regarding your writings, but as a blogger you need to check these comments thoroughly. If your blog becomes popular, it's possible that people with conflicting views could go head-to-head right underneath your latest post. Be ready to wade in / moderate comments if needs be. Kate cites her Blog Awards post as an example of when she stepped in on an increasingly heated debate about the blogging event.

On the flipside, Kate says, NOT allowing comments on your blog raises a red flag. People wonder WHY you won't let people comment. People might assume you have something to hide.

Add tags to each post- words that people may be searching for that relate to your work. Use a tag cloud on your site. This is a collection of links represented by key words, directing people to particular posts that may interest them.

Links to other sites may break if said linked site shuts down. Using an online tool like Broken Link Check you can wean out any URLs that no longer link to the required site.

Kateused a few Manchester blogs as an example of the fine blogginghappening in the city:

Fat Roland on Electronica, a music-based blog. Roland uses Soundcloud, a music site, to embed playable music files on his site. He alsoembeds Youtube music videos. Kate cites theimportance of multimedia in blogging. After all, what's a music blogwithout music? And even if your blog isn't music-orientated,multimedia makes your blog a blog, not a collection of essays.

Who the Fudge is Benjamin Judge, the personal blog of a Rochdale-based writer.

Food Legend, written by David Bailey.

Skyliner,by Hayley Flynn, Investigating Manchester's top-level architecture.

Onward Manchester, by Kristian Jackson andSamantha Bradey, about the city's events.

Didsbury Life, a South Manchester-based hyper-local blog.

Ciara Leeming, a photography blog

Hereare some shout-outs to some of the people who attended:

DavidClough, of Autus Web Design & Marketing, providing websites forbusinesses.

DianaKakkar, fashion designer and trend reporter writing at Londel Hi Fashion

JackyHall, writing about personal style, art, music and Manchester atNorthwest is Best

Greatmeeting. Happy Blogging!

TOIL and Trouble

2011-11-10T13:37:00.001Z

Itook some Time Off In Lieu last week after doing a few extra days inwork, dressed as a large piece of toast. Check me out.

Ithad something to do with a home insulation scheme. I can say no morefor legal reasons.

Imade the most of my time off, mindlessly trawling through videos likethis:

Ialso cleared out one last box of belongings from my mum's house, andthrew out about 9/10ths of my GNVQ college portfolio. I might regretdoing so, one day. However, the better written work is among theassortment I saved and it may appear on here in the near future. Oneaudio play that I scripted and produced was pretty darn entertaining.But then, I would say that, wouldn't I?

I'vehad quite a few blog hits recently through the help of a fewblog-linked retweets. Hence I'd like to say thanks to:

Adam Roberts, blogger / podcaster

Adam'sPodcast Twitter page, Skeletor's Mouthpiece

MissManchester 2009, Sara Beverly

Kenan Bailey, writer

Darren Sproat, Social Media Aficionado

Priya Young, Babestation model

McKenzie Lee, porn star

Thesepeople allowed for thousands more readers to see my work. For that,they are awesome.

Also,Playboy model Briana Frostrandomly tweeted me to tell me she likes the blog! I hope she doesn'tmind me saying, but I'd never heard of her before the tweet! Shewouldn't tell me where she found out about it, but it's one moreenthusiastic reader. And a hot one.

ALSOalso, if anyone knows anything about the dickheads that walkedthrough Littlemoor at 3am kicking car wing mirrors off, please let meknow so I can find them and re-enact the scene substituting saidmirrors with their jaws. Thank you.

Learning to Cook Before the Big Three Oh

2011-11-08T21:08:00.003Z

Oh,crap. I'm nearly 30, and I'm the same shit cook that I was at 20,slamming whatever into a frying pan and seeing what “meal”emerges from the smoke. I'm still cooking the components of the mealin the wrong order and reheating everything, resulting in theoccasional stomach bug. I'm still going to Tesco with no idea whatmeals I'm going to make with the food I'm buying, and no idea whatI've still got in stock at home. Having short-term memorydifficulties, like I have, means a simple multi-step task like buyingfood or cooking a meal becomes a wholly monstrous affair, with thepotential to morph from a simple kitchen exercise to a domesticdisaster.

WhenI was 20 I nearly burned down my student digs. I left something on anelectric hob that really shouldn't have been there. (okay, I wastechnically cooking it, but not for consumption.) Cue a small,toxic-fume-filled kitchen and an angry security guard. I was eatingchip naans three times a week, but I still lost 3kg throughunder-eating, and was the lightest I'd been as an adult.

WhenI was 28 and I'd only moved into my own flat a few months previously,I undercooked some lamb's liver. Let's just say I over-familiarisedmyself with the toilet. During this time, I possibly forgot to eatsome meals. I worked out LOADS. Yet I put 2kg on due to eating cheap,salt-laiden food.

WhenI look at my life right now, two of my biggest problems are 1) women,or lack of, and 2) cooking skills, or lack of. (Connection? Perhaps.You tell me, girls: If a man can cook, is that a turn-on? I suspectso.) I can't afford cookery classes, and even if I could, my memorydifficulties would cause me to drop behind, and I wouldn't get thechance I'd need to practice what had gone wrong. (Oh yeah. Thirdproblem: money.) The Psychology department that helps me with memorysays they can't help me with cookery. So I have to do this myself. Ican't expect a leg up from anyone else. The only knowledge I havewill come from a cookbook I got for my birthday in July, that-typically- got shoved into a kitchen cupboard a few days later, andhasn't been read... until now. So from here on, it's just me andClassics One Step at a Time by Keda Black.

Lookingback through my blog you'll notice that I'm fond of my one-monthchallenges- little exercises I do to improve a particular area of mylife in some way. I've been keen to focus on something for a newchallenge recently, but couldn't decide what. I miss people too muchto do the book-reading challenge again. I couldn't find the resources to binge on scriptwriting.I also have many other challenges and tasks in my life. This week, infact, I finished clearing out my college portfolios, the last twoitems that I'd left in my bedroom at my mum's. They've been theresince 2001. I kept the best parts- they filled just a couple of Tescobags. They're now on a shelf in my flat. I am officially totallymoved out.

Scaryshit.

Thiscookbook is going to take longer than a month to get to grips with,though, especially as I've only just ordered some scales off theinternet. Hopefully each meal won't take more than half an hour toput together. So here's my challenge for the next fewmonths- work my way through this cookbook, one meal at a time. I'lltry to find links to the same recipes online, so you can see what I'mdoing. I'll buy the ingredients, cook it, eat it, and review it here.If I fuck it up, I'll learn from my mistakes. If I don't, then itmust be simple enough for this moron to do. So why not do it with me?

Give your mind power and your body strength.

2011-11-07T20:54:00.006Z

FluffyOakes is a trained killer. An expert in MMA, he is at the peak of hisphysical fitness and assures me he is “a fearless bastard.” Whobetter to ask for training advice than this Manchester martial artslegend? Today, Power is a State of Mind hands over to Fluffy. We'regiving him a month to whip us into shape.

Thereis physical strength, and there is mental strength. Mental strengthis required if you work in a difficult job, like social work ornursing. Jobs such as these require emotional stability- working withpeople who have injuries, whether physical or mental, will test you.But it will also build you. To get through a day without lettingsympathy distract you from the task at hand is something that only afew are suited to, but people can become mentally and emotionallytough through these testing experiences.

Physicalstrength is much easier to develop, achieved usually through therepetitive action of lifting weights. The more times you lift, themore weight you can lift. But there will be times when you will getstuck. No matter how many times you do a certain movement, it seems,you just can't get over it. You'll reach a plateau, and it will feellike trying to climb over a wall that's just a tad too high for yourfingers to reach.

Sowhat do you do if you're stuck on a particular movement? My advicewill buck the trend- leave it.

Ifyou hit a plateau, don't try the weight again for a few weeks. Bearwith me here. It helps if you bring a pocket notebook to the gym,along with a pen. Put the name of each movement on its own sheet, atthe top. Put the weight you've lifted on the left, and the date youlifted it on the right. Each time you make a new personal best, markit on underneath in a column. This is your achievement. No matter howsmall you think the weight is- no matter how many meathead units arein the gym alongside you, lifting three times as much- feel goodabout it. This is your personal best. If you work out properly andregularly, and you eat and sleep well, it can only go up from here.

Dothis with as many movements as you like. Watch your records break andyour body improve. If you're reaching plateaus already, it's fair tosay you're a regular gym goer and you know what you can and can't do.Make a note of the date of the attempt and skip that movement. Here'swhy.

Eachtime you attempt to beat a personal best and you fail, you start amental conversation with your “inner critic.”

Everybodyhas their own inner critic. It's a part of your psyche that tellsyou- No. You can't do that.

Onthat weight movement at that time, your inner parent speaks to you.“Stop trying to lift that weight,” the parent says. “You are ascrawny, stupid weakling and the whole gym is watching you struggle.Give up.”

Yourinner parent is an arse, but you must still listen. If you return tothat weight movement for the next five days, you could fail toimprove every time. Meanwhile, you could have been improving on otherexercises you perform in your gym routine. In a 45-minute gymsession, you aren't going to stick to one machine, unless you want abizarrely disproportioned body, or you want to injure yourself. Soskip it, and move on to a machine you feel you can improve on. A newpersonal best on one machine could well allow for an improvement on amachine that uses some of the same muscle set. Or, throughouttraining, your cardio may improve through the "shock" yourbody gets from the break of routine- not just from the cardiomachines.

Here'swhat's important- whenever you exercise, you release endorphins intoyour bloodstream. This makes you feel good. Couple this withthe feeling you get when you know you've improved yourself, andyou'll feel extra good.

Irecently ran through around half of the exercises I practice, oneafter the other, in a series of 45 minute sessions. It took a fullmonth. So I'm in no danger of running out of exercises even if I hitloads of plateaus.

Theonly machine you should be going back to, regardless of how manytimes you fail to improve on it, is the cross trainer. This machineis perfect for warming up all the muscles in your body and great forimproving cardio. Do a ten minute blast of this right at the start ofyour session. To improve on it, you might find doing it twice persession for a week or so will yield sudden improvements.

MattTuckey claims he's going to do this for a month. He'd better do,otherwise I'll beat his bitch ass. And he knows it. I will be morelenient on you, but you can do just as well as him. Now switch offyour computer... and go to the gym.

Wrestling with Fluffy Oakes

2011-11-06T10:42:00.001Z

Ihaven't grappled in ages due to moving out and not having the money,but right now I'm on the mats in Fluffy Oakes' apartment- and he'skicking my arse while Rob Dougan's “One and the Same” providessome acoustic contrast.

Fluffyshoots in on me, taking my legs and body-slamming me to the floor.

“Youcould have defended that,” he says. “You know how to sprawl. I'veseen you do it.”

“Yep,”I wheeze, but I manage to lock my legs around his back.

“Thereason you don't do well in MMA is because you don't think you'll dowell. You expect to get beat.” He pins my biceps to the mat.

Isn'tit the other way around? Ithink. It keeps happening, so I expect it to. Like a lot ofthings.

Itry to swim my arms inside to break his grip, but I can't reach inenough. I try to grip on to his upper arms and work my legs up hisback.

“Andhere's the funny thing,” he says. “You run a blog called 'Poweris a State of Mind.'”

Asmy ankles climb up his back he responds by posturing up, sticking hischest right out. My legs won't cling on.

“Peopleare gonna be searching for that kind of strong-mentality,backbone-building shit” he says. “When they reach your site, isthat what they're going to find?”

“Thereare a couple of speculative pieces on it.” I reach up to try topull his head down. A simple shove puts my back on the mat again.

“Butit's mostly Tesco Value goods, Mark Kermode and stuff you can do withTwitter,” he says.

Iclimb my ankles a second time. There's a space between my thighs,though, and he swims his arms in and throws my legs to one side. Hedrops his chest on my stomach, side on, pinning my far arm with ahand.

“I'lltell you what I think,” he says, fishing around at my arms, lookingfor an opportunity to beat me up some more. “I think you chose thename because you saw how you wanted to see yourself, and how youwanted others to see you. You want a powerful state of mind, but youhaven't got one.”

Ireally want to start throwing shots into his ribs at this point, ashe's leaving them open. But then, I'm leaving my head open. He'dthrow back harder. This is only grappling. Pride stings when you knowyou're not going to win.

“Youneed to stop beating yourself up over things, for a start,” Fluffysays.

There'ssomething really ironic about that, but I can't put my finger on it.

“Ican help you sort that out,” he says. “You'll never doubtyourself again. Every problem you've had with work, with women, withyour memory, I can sweep it away.”

“Soundsgreat,” I say, bored, “but I've heard it a million times from aload of different people.” I pull an elbow forward and try to hookonto one of his legs with my ankle.

“Haveany of them read your blog?”

“Someof them,” I say. He knows what I'm trying to do with my body. He'sletting me turn into him. I know he's pre-empted my actions, but Ican't think what I'm doing wrong. I can't think what his counter is,and hence what my counter is.

“I'venoticed you've put up some guest posts. Why don't you let me dosomething? I'll teach you about a powerful mentality, but I'll teachit to the world as well. It'll go well on the blog. You're a goodwriter but I don't think you're the guy to advise people on theirstate of mind.”

Thishurts more than any move he could pull on me. But he's right.

“Yourcontent will match people's search results. People will type in,like, 'state of mind', and 'strong mind' or whatever, they'll findyour blog and they'll actually find what they're looking for. I'm notsaying what you've done isn't good; it is, but it largely doesn'trelate to what people are searching for. 'Til I get on it, that is.Whaddaya say?”

Ithread an arm under his armpit and follow through with my torso. Imanage to flip out from under him- I'm an annoyingly thin and wrigglygrappler. I get caught in holds a lot, but I'm difficult to keepstill. He loses his grip and I stand up. He stands level to me,quickly.

“Yeah,surprise me,” I say, and I shoot for his legs. I lunge out with myarms too much, though, like I always fucking do, and lean my bodyforward. He catches hold of my neck with one arm and chokes me out.

Ten Years, Ten Predictions.

2011-11-03T11:03:00.000Z

Theworld population is due to pass the seven-billion mark in the nextfew weeks, according to the BBC. As society and technology continue to develop and as humans wecontinue to run out of space, What can we expect from the world overthe next, say, ten years? What will our lives be like?

I'mprepared to make a few guesses. One benefit to blogging is that onceyou've uploaded your entry, your thoughts and predictions aredate-stamped, meaning that if these thoughts become prophecies youcan prove exactly that you'd foreseen the events. Thankfully, in 21^stcentury Britain, we have (largely) stopped hunting witches. Wecelebrate forecasters, like 1984 author George Orwell andrecession-predictor Peter Schiff, for their wisdom and do not burnthem at the stake. So presumably, it's okay for me to throw myvisions out there. I'm sure other people have described similarscenarios- I'm not claiming to be the second Nostradamus. But whatif...

1) Retirement will soon be a thing of the past. Employers will carve away workloads for ageing employees as dementia sets in (which can begin as early as forty). The chance of finding you elderly co-worker slumped dead at his desk is an ever-increasing possibility.

2) The government will step up efforts to curb the burgeoning population, using the points system (used to control immigration in the UK) as a model. Those wanting to give birth must attain enough points (scored from parenting skills, sustainable income, good health, good character) to be given permission to raise children. Give birth with insufficient points, and social services intervenes.

3) Nightclubs will play music louder than ever before. Music will be faster, being heavily influenced by the 90s rave scene. Establishments will stay open 24 hours. Women will wear less, sometimes clubbing in only underwear. Revellers will occasionally commit sex acts in public- even on the dance floor. Some clubs will tolerate this. Hearing problems will become more prevalent older people who had been frequent clubbers through the 90's / 00's. In younger people, these problems will arise earlier in life.

4) In clubs and bars, people will rarely approach in person as a first move. Instead, they will use the world's most popular website- Facebook. You enter the club in person. You “check in” to the club on Facebook to show your Facebook friends where you are. This will also show anyone on the club's page that you're there. You see someone in the club- in person- that you like. You check the club's Facebook place page. You check the recent check-ins, which appear like a list of friends. You find your target and send them a message. Tell them what you're wearing and where you are. Those who have completely lost the ability to converse (a shockingly high number) will use the “poke” function to get attention. If the poke-ee likes the poke-er, they approach each other. It's long-winded and tedious, and is for people who hate rejection. Some years down the line, they will realise getting blown out is the same however you do it. Using Facebook just takes more time.

5) Revellers will stay out later at the weekend, sleeping through the day and reversing their sleep pattern for two days. This will impede on the UK's economy as the work rate slumps. Those who don't go out drinking (mostly Muslims) will keep the jobs and succeed in them. Racial tension will escalate. Shares in companies that stock blackout material will soar as demand increases from clubbers, eager to block out the morning's rays from their bedrooms.

6) Meanwhile, over in Libya- a country that has seen forty years of tyrannical suppression- is experiencing a cultural overhaul. Gaddafi and his regime are dead. In 2011 it had the lowest divorce rate in the world. It will no longer hold this status as democracy creeps into the former dictator-led nation. Elections will take place in June 2012, according to the BBC. It will take a very long time for women to gain the kind of equality seen in Europe, but Libyan women's rights will steadily develop. In the next ten years, however, they will still not have the same voting freedom a Libyan men.

7) Veils and burqas will become less popular in these eastern countries, yet more popular in the UK. Tension between white people and Muslims in Britain will decrease over time, but national attitudes towards full-face veils will force MPs to make a decision, resulting in a veil ban. This will happen within the next 24 months.

8) The National Curriculum for secondary schools in the UK will see major changes. Personal and Social Education (PSE) will become a solid compulsory qualification with coursework and an exam. More time will be spent teaching sex education and sexual health. This will be to counter spiralling rates of STI transmission and unplanned teenage pregnancies, proven here. PSE will also feature information on masculinity, femininity and homosexuality. Gender roles will have become blurred more than ever before. Expect more male receptionists and more female doormen, more fathers cooking and more mothers using their mechanics qualifications to change the car tyres. Although some changes- like these- will be acceptable, there will be a growing concern for our youth's sexual identity- fuelled by broadsheet newspapers' speculative articles. Teens will need to be taught what will be fundamentally expected of them as a man or a woman in order for them to sustain relationships in the future. All pupils will be taught that gay people may or may not buck the trend, dependant on whether or not they are butch or femme. But pupils will also be taught to be aware and tolerant of how gay people might behave.

9) Due to the expenses scandal of 2009, Members of Parliament will continue to have their finances combed with increasing scrutiny. They will no longer be able to justify travelling to Westminster from their constituency and back on a weekly basis, and so the Houses of Parliament will turn to technology for a substitute. Expect banks of flat screen TVs replacing the leather benches, featuring webcam streaming from the offices of each MP. Digital TV will no longer cover debates in the HoP. A website will be set up allowing us observe debates in the commons. This interface will allow us to choose certain screens to enlarge, dependent on who's involved in the debate. This will see the end of the bizarre, droning form of cheering/bellowing we hear from the backbenchers.

10) Parliamentary debates will not be the only events to cross over from television broadcasting to internet streaming. Most TV channels will merge with the internet. Many channels will broadcast only a series of 30 second adverts for pre-recorded programmes, ending with a link to the full video that we can choose- with a click- to watch in full. Live programmes, like Parliament broadcasts, sports, news and concerts- will be the only shows to be broadcast traditionally.

Aremy predictions realistic? Do you envisage things being different? Hasany of this already happened unbeknown to me? Comment below...

Pizza Hut Delivery in Purgatory

2011-11-02T12:31:00.002Z

Anew Pizza Hut Delivery outlet has opened on Oldham's HuddersfieldRoad, just further out from Tesco, away from the town. I checked itout.

Thewait for the food wasn't as long as Domino's Pizza (next door). The food wasn't overcooked like my Domino's was, but PHDwas still overpriced. Out of Small, Medium and Large pizzas, theSmall is exactly that- and thin. The BBQ Steak topping I chose wastasty though.

Verdict:Not massively different from Pizza Hut Express in the ManchesterArndale.

Well,duh.

Mytrip to Pizza Hut Delivery was not unlike The Griffin family'sholiday in Purgatory as described in an old Family Guy episode:

LoisGriffin: This isn't bad. It's not good, but it's not bad.
BrianGriffin: So so.
Peter Griffin: More or less.

Bringing it to the Table

2011-10-30T18:09:00.000Z

Groupwriting exercise. Take three slips each. Write a different randomword on each one. Fold them up. Throw them into a pile and mix themup.

Nowpick out a slip. This first slip is the title to your vignette. Pickanother. This is your first word. Pick again. This is your last word.

Youhave ten minutes to produce a story. Go!

Mywords:

Table

Fly

Bruise

Table

Flyenters through the open patio door. His pixellated vision throws up ahomely scene. Lunch has finished. The table is being cleared. Mothertakes the plates back to the kitchen. In the next room, Son loads thedishwasher begrudgingly. Fly enters. The kitchen is busy. Theextractor fan hums, and Fly feels the distant suction through theroom. Before the air channel gets too strong, Fly vacates backthrough the dining room, looking for crumbs. The table is tidy, voidof morsels. But there's a smell of food still in the air; the tablewas the scene of a big meal moments ago. He follows the scent, pastthe fireplace that hasn't been used in months, over the recentlyhoovered carpet, to the shape lying at the edge of the room. It's aman. He's asleep. He snores long and slow. In his hand, there'ssomething made of paper rolled up. The crumbs are at the edge of hismouth, an area wrought with danger and potential infection, but thesmell is gooood. Fly can't resist a fly-by. He homes in on the lips,covered in Fly's lunch. Fly lands and eats. It's more than enough.Man's hand moves. The paper is large and heavy and slows Man'sreaction. Fly flies away. Man launches the paper into his own head,hard. Fly supposes Man will have two things to expect- indigestionand a bruise.

Manchester Blog Awards 2011

2011-10-29T10:07:00.003+01:00

“Imight not stop reading for two hours,” says Manchester writerSocrates Adams, “so apologies if people start weeping.”

It'sWednesday, 19^th October. We're in the trendy and iconicDeaf Institute on Oxford Road for the 6^th annualManchester Blog Awards and I'm sinking some disturbingly expensiveDalwhinnie and Balveninie single malts from the impressive back bar.On stage, Socrates is reading from his newly-published novel,Everything is Fine. What isn't so fine, he tells us, is that thepublishers have printed the book's jacket in the wrong colour.

Thesegment read features a failing salesman whose boss orders him tocarry his test-tube merchandise (named “Mildred”) on his personat all times. From the witty excerpt Socrates reads out, I expect itwill do well upon its January release.

Tonightwe'll also hear some equally impressive readings from more ofManchester's writing community- successive doses of short, sharpfiction and some vivid and emotionally-charged non-fiction pieces.Many people will laugh. Some will cry. At least one woman and atleast one manwill get massively drunk.

TomMason, curator of Manchester blog 330 Words, Is official event blogger and his fine write-up appears on the Manchester Literature Festival blog.

Itis a truly entertaining night. The Manchester Blog Awards websitefeatures a full list of the night's winners, with links to theirblogs. Check them out. They're well worth a read.

Search This Blog... If You Dare

2011-10-21T21:22:00.000+01:00

“Mylittle girl is generous with secrets. I wish she weren't, frankly.Don't secrets sustain her, keep her separate, make her self-aware?How can she know who she is if she gives away her secrets?"

-CIAofficer Win Everett in Don DeLillo's novel, Libra

Blogger-Soon to be Google Blogs- has an extensive list of gadgets that youcan add to your blog. I've just added the search function, allowingpeople to check if I've mentioned a specific word or phrase.

Thesearch tool has a benefit for me, and for you if you blog. I've beenblogging for four years on this site, and have covered a wide rangeof subjects. If I want to show a specific post to someone, and I cancontact them online, I can send them a link to a specific entry. If Imeet someone face to face and I want them to check a particularupdate, It's now a little easier. Before I added the search bar, itwould be difficult to point it out to them if all I did was give themmy card.

Now,for instance, if I'm telling someone about the time I got Trevor Sinclair thrown out of Baa Bar or I'm explaining how celebrity retweets can help blog stats, I can give someone the card and they can search for themselves whenthey reach the site. It helps the reader, and, of course, if it'seasier to use it means more page views for the blog.

Fromlogging into Blogger, go Dashboard – Layout – Add a Gadget.Search for “search this blog”. Click Add.

Iwould now like to invite you to search this blog for somethingutterly random. You never know. I might have mentioned it. Morerecently my posts have been to aid other people, and this hasresulted in BIG stats. But dig deep and you'll find I've made thesame mistake as Win Everett's infant daughter. I have given away hugechunks of my past for public consumption, in an attempt to beunderstood. I now no longer know who I am. What I'm saying is, whatyou might find may get a little weird.

Commentunder here if you've found any surprises...

Fables & Cognac

2011-10-17T19:08:00.003+01:00

Ifyou're reading this blog, there's a good enough chance that you'llhave at least a passing interest in good stories. You might even be awriter. Well, good news for you, my friend. Manchester writer KenanBailey has launched Fables and Cognac, a brand-spanking new blog investigating the art of storytelling.

Informative,sharply designed and written with dollops of dry wit, Fables andCognac is a great resource for writers and anyone who enjoys a goodstory. As well as advice for authors and fiction-related updates,you'll also find a few gripping short stories nestled in too.

Thesite is currently looking for contributors. If you're a fictionauthor or you write about writing, get involved. That's what I did!Check out my article- “Duotrope: The Yellow Pages of Publishing”over on F&C.

Cave-in on the Subway

2011-10-14T16:16:00.001+01:00

Gord
Is there a problem?

Customer
Yeah, moron. I ordered a cheese sandwich and there's hardly any cheese in here.

Gord                   
That's no good, is it? Here, give me your sandwich. I will fix it for you. You can't have

complaints there's not enough cheese in the cheese sandwiches. 

Gord begins piling stupidly large amounts of cheese onto the bread.

Gord
I mean, if there's no cheese in a cheese sandwich, that's just two slices of bread. If

word of that were to get out, well, I could lose my job. I could lose all of this! And we

wouldn't want that, would we? Would we? Would we? Huh?!

Gord pushes the pile of cheese covering the bread at the customer.

Customer                  
What the fuck am I gonna do with that?

Gord
You could stick it in your bum-bum. You can put the cheese in your bum.

-SandwichTechnician Gord (Tom Green) defends his culinary skills in Freddy GotFingered.

Amonth ago I blogged about Subway not being as healthy as you might imagine.

Ivowed not to eat Subway again. It was my intention to blog about mysub-free life a month later, and in the meantime to see how my newdiet affected working out at the gym.

Ijust about managed. On the morning of Sunday 9^thSeptember,after a stunning night in Avici White, I crumbled. My gang were starving. I was starving. The top end ofDeansgate has only one late-opening takeaway. I'm not even going toname it. My night was to end with either a six-inch Meatball Marinaraor a hunger/dance induced blackout, only to be scraped off thepavement by the fuzz and thrown in the cells, where I'd be violatedby a drunk.

“Sixinch meatball on herbs and cheese please.”

Fuckit.

Onthe bright side, since 9^th Sept I've got a littlehealthier. I've lost a couple of kilos. I've improved my ten-minutepower-walk and 10-minute row. I can lift more weight on 2 differentabdominal exercises. I've notched up the chest press, dumbell fly,hip abductor (working the outside thigh muscle), shoulder press andwide grip lat pulldown. I've beaten personal bests on 9 out of 30different movements that I do at the gym.

Togauge the effects of healthy eating, a month isn't really a longenough time frame. I also needed more sessions at the gym just to runthrough all of the movements I'm recording. So for the record, Subway is not healthy and I proved it. Good health proves itselfin the long run, though, provided you eat well, sleep well andexercise regularly. And with that in mind, I'm off to bed.

The Celebrity Mitherer's Handbook

2011-10-13T17:53:00.000+01:00

“Theminuses of celebrity include having to live with security and theknowledge that you may be stalked.”

-Enya

Ifyou're a regular reader at Power is a State of Mind, you'll havenoticed quite a few celebrity encounters popping up in the posts.Now, I'm not a stalker. But if, say, my determination to meet famoustypes knew no bounds, I'd imagine these websites would appearregularly in my ominous browser history. They're pretty good formercilessly hunting down famous types. Cough. Check it out.

Waterstones

Booksignings occur in stores nationwide. See the store locator on thesite to find one near you.

Arndale Centre

Manchester'smain shopping precinct. Big towns and most cities will have similarevents in their shopping centres.

Trafford Centre

Thehighest-valued shopping centre in the UK is on the outskirts ofManchester. Massive. Elegant. Occasionally has book signings andevents.

WHSmith

Thisbook store/stationery shop has occasional signings nationwide.

HMV

Nationalmusic retailer. Occasionally holds album signing sessions and the oddbook signing.

Thisis a list with Greater Manchester in mind, but most venues arenationwide / worldwide chains and certain celebs will appear in manystores as part of a tour. Where would you include in the list?Comment below.

Going on the Piss in Ancient Greece

2011-10-11T19:21:00.001+01:00

Onlysecond night working

Flatcorridor, fluffy handcuffs, trolley

Atthe student bar, avoiding snooker,

Narcissusfalls for own reflection

Puddlingsweat, he

Staresinto the lake at water's edge

Tobygoes ballistic, kicking pads,

along drink for endurance.

Jaband hook combo

longing,looking out.

Blondehair, young. Friend introduces.

Girlsgang up, locked on

Confused.How do I progress?

Transfixedat self

Waterpistols. Soaked. Sent reception

Ikiss her, swap numbers,

Sheslams my stomach with a medicine ball,

Throwscue, marches out.

Explanation

Ghosts on the Dancefloor Part 2

2011-10-10T22:43:00.004+01:00

OooohI, I love the nightlife
I got to boogie
On the disco 'round, ohyea

I love the Nightlife, Alicia Bridges, 1978

TheCommonword two-part poetry event concluded at Nexus Art Caféon Monday 3^rdOctober, again led by Manchester poet Segun Lee French.

Followingon from last week's session, we delved deeper into surrealism andManchester night life. We also incorporated themes of cinema andperspective to create another surrealist poem.

Theexercise began with our own memories of night life in Manchester. Wethought of a particular night that we personally remember. Wedescribed this memory with a beginning line, a middle line and an endline. Each line was to be no more than six words. I had:

Blondehair. Young. Friend introduces her

Ikiss her and swap numbers

It'sonly my second night working

Wethen thought of another scene from our lives, from roughly the sametime frame, and applied the same technique. Here's mine:

Flatcorridor. Fluffy handcuffs. Shopping trolley

Girlsgang up. I'm locked on

Waterpistols. Soaked. Sent to reception

Sameagain for scene 3:

Barunder student flat. Avoiding Snooker

Tobygoes ballistic, wanting a game

Throwscue on floor. Marches out.

Scene4 was a mythical scene. We were asked to think of a myth or legend,and format it 6X3. So...

Narcissussees a lake, walks up.

Hesits at the water's edge

Sitsthere transfixed at himself.

It'sa little clumsy but the point was to write fast, with whatever comesinto your head, as is the surrealist style.

Thefifth vignette was on a random subject of our choice. I chose thekickboxer circuit class that I attend at the gym. There were fewerrestrictions on this one, allowing us to use short phrases of nospecific length. We wrote out 5 of these.

Puddlesof sweat

Kickpads

Longpad work for endurance

Jaband hook combo

Stomachslammed with medicine ball

Segundistributed a series of blank cards. We wrote each line from eachverse on its own card. We then laid the cards out in order andswapped cards between rows and columns. This gave the words asurreal, mixed-up quality.

Wewrote out the new text on a sheet of paper, double-spaced, and lookedat whether there were any themes that emerged in the writing. Withthe subjects combined, was anything pertinent?

Mineseemed to have a theme of frustration or anger, or perhaps longing.Hmm. Segun suggested we add in a few words throughout the poem (hencethe double spacing) to strengthen the theme.

Andthere you have it. One surrealist poem. I'm again uploading my poemas a separate blog post so that it stands alone. Those who haven'tread this explanatory post can make their own wild conclusions...

Anothergreat Commonword class. Contributors also got a chance to read outtheir poem on Manchester's Unity Radioon Thursday 6^th.I was tied up. Gutted. I'll be keeping my eyes open for Commonwordclasses in the future as the teaching, finished products, networkingopportunities and enthusiasm of everyone involved is superb.

Published: Stakeout

2011-10-06T19:33:00.001+01:00

Sinister

Terrifying

Anarchic

Kinetic

EmilioEstevez-unrelated

Ominous

Unnerving

Tough

Stakeout.Matt Tuckey’s new flash fiction piece in Stray Branch magazine,Fall/Winter 2011. Available to buy here.

Making Dannii Minogue Nervous

2011-10-05T22:08:00.001+01:00

Therecomes a moment for some when you realise your obsession withcelebrity has gone too far.

Forme, that was Friday, 30^th September in WHSmiths inManchester’s Arndale Centre. I was in a queue: a big queue full ofteenage girls and -presumably gay- teenage boys. I was going to meetDannii Minogue.

Dannii,pop star, sister of Kylie, current X Factor judge, and actress wasspringboarded to fame by Aussie soap Home and Away. She’s since had20 years worth of reasonable success in pop, although I can’t namea single one of her songs.

Danniiwas in town signing her new book, My Style. I got one of the lastwristbands to allow entry to the signing. The queue was sloooowwww.Most of us were sat on the floor of the Arndale walkway for hours. Myarse went numb. I read a huge chunk of James Ellroy’s Blood’s aRover. A lady from WHSmiths dished out cupcakes so we didn’t resortto cannibalism.

Itoccurred to me, sat on the hard marble floor surrounded by girls halfmy age, that I had some shit to address. Why am I so obsessed withcelebrity? I don’t know Dannii Minogue’s music. I hate soaps. XFactor is terrible. Why am I drawn to famous people? And why Dannii?Not to mention- the book is a largely photo-based description ofwomen’s fashion! I need. To confront. This obsession.

Aplan: If I can give my blog card to Neil Strauss, Danny Dyer and PeteBurns, I can give it to Dannii Minogue. Hi Dannii. I’m ablogger, and I bang on about all the celebrities I meet. I also writeabout this city. How are you finding it here?

Thequeue crawled forward. Butts shuffled sideways. I got through thedoor. Her bodyguard clocked me- this guy’s straight. He kepta firm eye on me.

Shesigns the book. The girl from Smiths takes our picture. There’s apause. I lock eyes with Dannii. She keeps smiling to mask how nervousshe clearly suddenly feels.

Then Ithank her and walk off.

Damn.

Anafterthought: why didn’t I get it signed to my sister? She’d haveappreciated it. And it would be one less Christmas present to buy. Ialways think of these things too late. But on a more positive note,how fit is Dannii?!

Where Can I Get Feedback On Screenplays?

2011-10-04T23:07:00.003+01:00

Tomake a great film you need three things - the script, the script andthe script.

-AlfredHitchcock

I’vehammered out a few film scripts recently- mostly shorts, with one45-page piece. I’m looking for an online feedback site. Screen Adapter Andrew Daviessuggested I check out The Script Factory.

Althoughfull of info regarding screenwriting in general, it doesn’t seem tobe a site offering democratic feedback. I’ve got time to give upfor sharing critiques with other writers, but I’m not- as the siteinvites me to- shelling out money for a professional critique. I’llstill need more critiques after a post-pro-critique draft of mywriting, so is it worth paying right now? I think not. Writers Connect do a good job on feedback. Their help with The Mix and The Knife Jobhas been invaluable. I can’t read out 45 pages of script to them,though.

Anyonewant to read a terrorism conspiracy tale? Got an hour free? Get intouch.

Doesanyone know what site I’m looking for? Where do people sharescreenplays for feedback? Again, let me know. Let’s get on with itand get our stuff out to local filmmakers.

Power is a State of Mind.

2011-10-03T23:40:00.003+01:00

I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece and short. I'm in a world of shit . . . yes.

But I am alive. And I am not afraid.

- Joker (Matthew Modine),Full Metal Jacket

Open anew tab in your browser. Google “power is a state of mind”.What’s the top result?

Coolhuh?

Althoughcool it may be, I now have a responsibility to make it meansomething. If you scan through this blog, you’ll see it’s theplace to visit for info on social media, celebs, book reviews,creative writing and Manchester events and night life. Is it reallyabout using your state of mind to bolster power?

Notgreatly. But maybe it should be. Seeing as that’s what people aresearching for when they find this site, I should incorporate it. Iobviously really like the phrase. I really want to believe it andprove it by doing something- by wiping out my fears living a morefulfilled life. I could even use that mentality- in part- tospringboard this blog from unknown to a popular Manchester referencepoint. I could make more money, have more success with women and, intheory, get my name known in Manchester- all through having a morepowerful state of mind. After all, guys- how many times have you beenin this situation: You meet a hot girl. She introduces you to herdecidedly average-looking boyfriend. Your first thought: She couldget a lot better than him. But then you hear him talk. Nothing seemsto faze him. Maybe he’s not afraid of taking a kicking. Maybe healways speaks up when he’s not happy in an awkward situation.

Casein point- a floppy-haired barman I used to work with- a kid with thebeginnings of a pot and- for some reason- the beginnings of a ‘tache-was in a long-term relationship with a beautiful blonde 18-year-old.They were quite an odd couple, who’d been to college together.Let’s call him R and her L. R & L studied drama at one of thecolleges in Oldham. In their class, there was one student who hadlearning difficulties. The tutor would apparently make an example ofthis young man, frequently asking the group to help him out wheneverthe group was together.

Rdescribed objecting, not liking the way the tutor picked on him.

“That’swhat I’m looking for from you all,” the tutor had said. “Stepforward and act when you’re not happy.”

It wasprobably 2004 when R told this story. Ryan already had power as astate of mind before the tutor gave the group this dubiouslyconstructed lesson. I’m only just learning this now.

Expecta few changes on this blog. My friend and local zoological consultantFluffy Oakes has agreed to contribute with a few articles which I’msure will back up the theme. Fluffy is tough. Fluffy acts when heneeds to. Fluffy will not let us down. Hell, I might even learnsomething from him. I’ll be writing a lot about women, overcomingmy fears, and the growth of this blog. But I can only do that byacting and stepping forward. No theoretical bullshit. Only action.

Poweris a state of mind. Hold that thought.

The Mix

2011-10-02T15:26:00.000+01:00

EXT.CITY CENTRE STREET-NIGHT

CCTVFOOTAGE- B/W- NO DIGETIC SOUND

WALTER,18, steps up to the camera in a checked shirt and stonewashed jeans-smart but trend-less. The camera appears to be in a doorway of somekind. He wants to get in, gesturing inside, trying a little charm.He's not doing well. As he steps closer to the camera, a DOORMAN'SFIST slams into his face. He staggers off.

Overthe scene, CHRIS gives a V/O.

CHRIS

That'sMark, the doorman. He told me this cocky little fraggle stepped upsaying “I know Chris Hulston.” Mark was like, “Don't use thatname around here.”

INT.POSH HOUSE- DAY

Chrissits with IAN, his right-hand man, strangely close on the smallcouch. Ian has a scratch on his nose. They're watching the footage ona big-screen TV. To the left of the TV, his video rack holds thefilms Batman Returns, Blue Velvet, Maitresse, A Taste of Honey, Salo,8mm, Philadelphia, Deliverance, Midnight Cowboy, WWF Wrestling andSpartacus.

IAN

What'shis name?

CHRIS

Walter.I can't go back in there now because of him. You beat the shit out ofhim and I guarantee he'll go to the press. The club's door staff willsee the article. They'll know I sorted it out.

Ianleans back and notices something sticking out from between thecushion and the armrest of the couch- a small riding whip.

Chrispulls out an unmarked audio tape.

CHRIS

Justso I know it happened. I'll be at a business meeting, so post itthrough the box and I'll check it when I get back. How's it goingwith this Charlotte, then?

IAN

Well,y'know. Can't believe I got tied down to this shit. If she didn'targue with everyone she meets, and she didn't punch grown men inbars, and she didn't drink pints and belch in strangers faces,meaning you've gotta wade in and protect her, and if she didn't getso wasted that going out with her was like looking after a fuckinginfant... she'd be a nice girl.

CHRIS

You'llfigure it out with her.

IAN

Iwill.

Ianlooks at the tape.

IAN(CONT)

I havea plan.

INT.COUNCIL HOUSE-DAY

WALTERsits on a couch. Puffing the herb, he stares at the TV. We can't seewhat's on-screen, but we can hear it.

TVVOICE

Unlessyou want to die a slow, painful death... Stop smoking now.

TVVOICE 2

NewMcBain chips! They go with everything! These kids just can't getenough!

There'sa KNOCK at the door.

Classicalmusic fills the room. Walter stands and slumps to the door.

TVVOICE 3

Ordernow for Classical Vibes. Relax to this serene collection...

Walteropens the door. A large leather-gloved FIST slams into Walter's face.He flies back into the corridor.

WALTER

No-no-

IANpushes Walter onto his arse and begins laying into him. Walter'sprotests are heard over the music. It's a totally unfair fight. Bythe time the advert finishes, the man has left and has closed thedoor behind him.

EXT.WALTER'S HOUSE

Walkingbriskly down the road, Ian pulls a tape recorder out of his backpocket. He rewinds. The device SQUEAKS, then Ian presses PLAY. For acouple of seconds we can hear Walter getting the shit beaten out ofhim.

INT.IAN'S FLAT- DAY

CU-TWO-TAPE STEREO PLAYER

A tapemarked THE CORRS is inserted into PLAYER A. A blank tape is insertedinto PLAYER B. Fingers hit the record buttons.

The Corrs song“What Can I Do to Make You Love Me” plays over thescene, and over the following FLASHBACK MONTAGE:

INT.PUB- NIGHT

Ianand a girl, CHARLOTTE, sit together. He goes to hold her hand. Shepushes his hand away and sneezes into her own hand. Then she pickshis hand up and smiles at him.

INT.IAN'S FLAT- NIGHT

Ian'sasleep on the couch. Charlotte carefully places some sandpaper intohis outstretched hand. She tickles his nose with a pen. He reacts,scratching his face. She finds it hilarious. He does not.

MONTAGE/MUSICENDS

Iantakes the two tapes, marked BEATING and SONG, and puts one in eachcoat pocket.

EXT.CHARLOTTE'S HOUSE- DAY

Ianpops the tape through the letterbox. He strokes a local cat on hisway out.

EXT.CHRIS'S HOUSE

Ianpulls out the other tape. As he shoves it through the waist-heightletterbox he sees the markings: SONG. He freezes. The tape has falleninside. He starts to breathe heavily. He looks through the letterboxflap.

INT.CHRIS' HOUSE

Thecassette is on the floor. Ian reaches through the letterbox, his armno-where near.

EXT.CHRIS' HOUSE

Ianhesitates, and then backs away.

INT.IAN'S HOUSE- LATER

Ian'stopless, doing press-ups on his knuckles.

Thedoorbell RINGS. Ian stands. He looks around the room.

IAN

Hangon…

Hepicks up a belt and stretches it out, like he might strangle someonewith it. It's the only thin he can find to defend himself with.

Ianopens the door. Chris is in the hallway, smiling flirtatiously.

IAN

Chris.Listen. Fucking hell-

Chrisbrings a finger up to Ian's lips.

CHRIS

Shhh...Wow. I can't believe it took us so long.

Ian'sface changes from controlled panic to blank confusion.

Chrisholds up the tape marked SONG.

CHRIS

Ian...Ian... I would never have put you down as the romantic type. Well,Mr. Creative. You don't have to do anything to make me love you.Nothing at all.

Chrispushes Ian back into his corridor, just using the finger stillpressed to Ian's lips.

Ianpanics and pushes Chris' finger away.

IAN(FIRM)

Out.

CHRIS

Yes.Yes, I am out. I'm out at last. You noticed, and I'm free because ofyou. I owe this freedom to you.

Chrispops the buttons on his own shirt.

CHRIS

Now dowhat you want with me.

Ian'sBIG RIGHT HAND lands in his boss' face. Chris stumbles out. Ian slamsthe door shut. Undeterred, Chris hammers on the door.

CHRIS

Don'tfight it, Ian! Accept your feelings darling!

MONTAGE

Showerdial being turned to the coldest point.

Waterbursting out of shower head

Ianreacting to the cold.

Iandrying off. The doorbell RINGS.

IAN

Oh,fuck, here we go again.

Ianopens the door wrapped in a towel. CHARLOTTE stands in the doorwayholding the tape marked BEATING.

IAN

Charlotte.I can explain, don't-

SheSHOVES him back into his corridor and closes the door behind her.

IAN

There'ssomething I need to tell you. I, er-

CharlotteSLAPS Ian, hard.

IAN

Argh!What the fuck?

Shegrabs him, ready to slap him again.

CHARLOTTE

I knowyou like this, you little bitch!

Charlotterips off her blouse to reveal a black PVC catsuit.

CHARLOTTE

Ican't believe it took you so LONG!

Sheslaps him so hard it brings a tear to his eye.

IAN

Youfucking psycho!

CHARLOTTE

Oh...keep talking baby. Keep talking.

Shekisses him hard on the mouth. He pushes her away, HARD, mid-kiss. Heslaps her face. She's laughing now.

CHARLOTTE

Comeon, you wuss. Is that it?

Ianruns out, still in the towel.

IAN(Shouting back at her)

Don'tspeak to me again, you crazy bitch!

Charlotteis still stood in Ian's flat, breathing heavily, staring at the door.

CHARLOTTE

Youknow you liked it... come on... prove it.

Sheroots through his wardrobe- shirts, trousers, jeans- no PVC. Nowhips. No chains. No leather. No rubber.

Shegoes through his drawers: elastic bands, paper-clips, a pack of cardsthat have come loose at the bottom and have spread across the drawer.She plucks out a scrap of paper.

CHRIS

0798064

It'snot just a scrap- it's an envelope. Charlotte opens the tucked-inflap. It's stuffed with £20 notes- a few hundred quid-deep. Shechecks the drawer for more. She pauses and pulls out what looks like-from the back- a white rectangular card. From Charlotte's side, it'sa photograph. It's Chris and Ian. They're both drunken, shirtsuntucked, outside a bar at closing time. They're hugging, lookingsomewhat gay.

FLASHFRAME- CHARLOTTE'S THOUGHTS:

Chrisand Ian locked in a kiss.

EXT.CHRIS' HOUSE

Chrisopens the door in a dressing gown, eyes full of sleep.

CHRIS

Whoare you?

Charlottestands on the doorstep with the photograph in one hand and theenvelope in the other.

CHARLOTTE

I'myour boyfriend's girlfriend. Soon to be ex-girlfriend.

CHRIS

Er,what?

Helooks at her outfit.

CHRIS

Okay.I can roll with this.

Charlotteputs the photo in his face.

CHARLOTTE

Youturned my boyfriend gay, you bastard.

CHRIS

I wishI had. I AM bisexual, but Chris just works for me.

CHARLOTTE

You'rea pimp?!

CHRISsighs.

CHRIS

No.There's something I want to show you.

INT.CHRIS' HOUSE

Chrisand Charlotte sit on the small couch. Chris is showing Charlotte ascrapbook that he's assembled, stuffed full of newspaper clippings.

CHRIS

Look.This is all me and Ian. But you didn't see this here, okay?

CASHGUARDS ROBBED

SHOTGUNRAIDERS HUNTED

LANDLORDSWARNED AFTER PUB RAIDS

STREETRIOTS WERE “PLANNED”

PIRATEVIDEO DEALERS HUNTED

LOCALCOCAINE NOW CHEAPER THAN A CAPPUCCINO

EARFOUND ON PAVEMENT

MANGETS HEAD STUCK IN RAILINGS AFTER DRUNKEN NIGHT OUT

Chrisshrugs.

CHRIS

Mightneed to blackmail him one day. You never know.

CHARLOTTE

Wow, Ihad the wrong end of the…

Shefinds the same riding crop that Ian found, down the sofa.

CHARLOTTE

Stick.Is this yours?

Charlotteand Chris smile at each other.

INT.IAN'S FLAT

Iansits at his desk in his lounge, filling in an RSPCA job applicationform. He's on the phone. An answer machine beeps.

IAN

Chris,it's Ian. Being a gangster is gay. I'm out. Out of the game, I mean,not... Well. Enjoy your life.

On theform, under MARITAL STATUS, Ian ticks the box SINGLE.

INT.CHRIS' HOUSE

Chris'ANSWER MACHINE blurts out Ian's message, but there's no-one around.

INT.CHRIS' BASEMENT

Chrisis gimped up and chained to the wall. Charlotte stands in her catsuitin front of him. She WHIPS Chris hard. He loves it.

CREDITSROLL.

The Anti- Tesco Value Challenge: Review

2011-10-01T21:21:00.000+01:00

Tescocan't solve all, or even a fraction of, the problems in thedeveloping world but we are a positive force.
-Sir Terry Leahy,former Tesco CEO

SirTerry might not be able to fix the world's ills, but I suspected thathe may be able to help me get back to good health after eating waytoo much of his company's budget-range foods. For the last month Ihave purposefully avoided salt-laiden Tesco Value goods, and havebegrudgingly shelled out on mid-priced food at my local supermarket.I wanted to know whether eating better would make me look better,feel better and- as I documented here-perform better at the gym.

Theonly Value range foods I've eaten are eggs and bananas, even swappingfrom Value to Healthy Living chicken portions. I've started to getback into shape, losing a couple of kilos, and generally, I'm feelinga little sharper.

It'sa little difficult to assess how I've performed at the gym as I'veincluded such a stupidly wide range of exercises to work on. Some ofthese exercises I only managed to test once throughout the month.I've been to the gym around five or six times a week as usual.Excluding pad work classes like Kickboxer Circuit and Boxercise (onceeach a week), I've done weights pretty regularly. Eating better hasimproved a few of the exercises I work on at the gym, including:

10minute cross trainer

HipAdductor (inside thigh)

ShoulderPress

VerticalDumbell Fly

ChestPress (horizontal)

Sit-upMachine

Perhapssemi-ironically, I'm not only feeling physically healthier. I'm alsomore mentally sharp, I'm doing well- perhaps better- in work, I'mgetting to grips with memory difficulties (i.e. understanding how Ishould and do handle the issue, not remembering better- Tesco do notemploy psychological magicians), and I'm more optimistic. I've alsosorted out more Inland Revenue issues, so not buying value fooddoesn't hurt the wallet as much either.

Soit looks like I'll be shelling out on regular food for theforeseeable future. Value products might be cheap, but- as the clichésays- if it looks too good to be true, it probably is.

Bar Grapple

2011-09-30T12:37:00.002+01:00

Atsome point I remember: Don’t work hard, work clever.

Playjazz, soul, funk, or whatever.

Looseends, flirt, snort, you turn the lights out and you sort of like,

workoff a playlist, a dj, you wanted to party,

but itwas you coming out in the eighties,

allthe yawn get away with stuff that you weren’t into the music

wewould elation it’s not the size of the dog in the fight,

when Igot and the whole crowd over and they would chokehold

at thetime I was working at 2 and o’clock I would just get my recordnervous around the area all the there sort of like 1984/85

Icontinued the tradition because it’s the size of the fight in thedog.

Explanation.

Ghosts on the Dancefloor

2011-09-29T12:46:00.000+01:00

Takeyour best memories of Manchester night life, on paper form. Take atranscript of an interview with a local DJ. Take a personal hobby,and a few of your favourite elements from this. Cut them all up andthrow them in a blender. Pour your literary smoothie out on yourdesk, and form something striking and jagged: an experimental,surrealist autobiographical poem.

26^thSeptember: Nexus Art Café in Manchester. The small eatery is in the heart of the Northern Quarter, the city’screative hub. A Tom Selleck movie is projected faint onto a lit wall.Customers are engaged in games of chess and Trivial Pursuit.

Agroup of writers gather. Commonword writer Segun introduces the Ghosts project- agathering of written material detailing the birth of the Manchesterclub scene. Segun’s handout explains that the project “aims tocapture the so-far unrecorded roles that the clubs in the Moss Sideand Hulme areas of Manchester played in the heritage of the Caribbeancommunity.”

Seguntells us how, in the fifties, African seamen set up social groups inthe city which developed, over decades, into the nightclubs that wevisit today. Soul nights emerged throughout the sixties, eventuallyinfluencing a range of music events- including venues playing drum‘n’ bass and house. (House in particular is still played a lot inthe city’s clubs.)

Segunhands us a transcript of an interview with Manchester DJ HewanClarke, who came to Manchester in “the notorious winter of 1969”.It gives us a taste of the styles and atmosphere of the city, from apopular DJ’s perspective- a man who brings people together to sharesomething that they love- good music. It’s an era that I was,enviously, too young to be a part of.

“We’regoing to look at Surrealism,” says Segun, enthusiastically.“Surrealism accesses our subconscious through randomness. It’sour egos that prevent us from properly expressing ourselves, but youcan drop your ego and express through automatic writing- just let thepen hit the paper and keep going. Remember,” he says with emphasis,“nothing is forbidden in surrealism.”

Wethen performed three minutes of automatic writing on the theme ofManchester’s night life: Our memories of the city and it’s barsand clubs.

Here’smy three-minuter:

2002.Deansgate Locks is not yet the rammed street end populated by themoneyed scally and every other reveller. It’s spacious- The brickarches are clearly visible, even from the inside. The music- cuttingedge house. The people- well-dressed and good-looking. It’s thefirst time I’ve walked into a bar and thought, yes, I like thisplace. I could be a regular here. It’s the only bar I’ve been towith a curved ceiling. The only bar with a full glass front. It’sBaa Bar, apparently the only cheap bar on the strip. Next door, SugarLounge is apparently the reverse. Your month’s wages for a glassof coke, populated by footballers and BBC types. Ying and Yang,practically. I neck another Woo Woo and watch the women.

Next,we took another sheet of paper and tore it up into small slips. Segunasked us to pick out, from our three-minute pieces, five words orphrases that we particularly like. We wrote them on the slips.

Then,we thought of another subject altogether- not night-life related. Ichose Mixed Martial Arts. We wrote a few key words from the hobbyonto the remaining blank slips of paper.

Followingthis, we took the photocopies of Segun’s DJ interview and cut it upinto lines. We bunched up the lines of paper, holding them like abunch of flowers, and cut them into chunks.

Onthree more slips, we wrote a body feeling, an action and an emotion-relating to either night life or our unrelated hobby.

Wemixed up our slips like a DJ mixes records. Or like an amateur writermixes clumsy metaphors. Cough.

Segun,his hands deep in paper slips, says “Pure surrealists would justread out whatever text they’ve got, no matter where it falls. But Ithink we should mix it around and find a phrasing that you’re happywith.”

I laymy slips out in lines on the table. It looks like the letter thatWhitney Houston receives from her stalker in The Bodyguard.

To seehow it transcribes, check my next update. Therewill be a combination of three very different writing elements… butwill it reveal anything about my subconscious? Could I- or you-interpret anything from the result? Comment if you think so…

Doris' Legacy

2011-09-28T20:25:00.003+01:00

We’ve done this writing exercisebefore… I really must research some new ones. Regardless. Here we go.

The group sits at the table. We each have asheet of paper.

Write a character name. Fold the paperback, so you can’t see the writing, and pass it to your right/left. Keepall the passes in the same direction.

Write an age. Fold. Pass.

A place. Fold. Pass.

A time of day. Fold. Pass

An object. Fold. Pass.

This didn’t bring us full circle, butit doesn’t matter. There were enough elements, by this time, to make agood story. Here’s what I had:

Name: Doris Andrews

Age: 107

Place: Farm

Time: 2:30am

Object: Bracelet

Here’s what Dorisis doing:

She had a legacy. A whole branch of thefamily tree was underneath her. Two daughters. A son. Nine grandchildren. Fivegreat-grandchildren. Without her, there would be none of it.

Doris sipped herwater. She took another pill. She looked at the packet of pills. She couldn’teven remember what they were for. But when the alarm beeps, she takes a pill.That’s all she could remember about it.

She looked at the mould of her body fromabove the covers and thought about how small she looked. She was 6 foot at 21.Now, her teenage grandsons were a head taller than her. Her family, their heights,the size of the whole Andrews clan: Everything was large. Even the farm shelived on was spacious- bigger than most dairies.

She put the water down on the cabinet. She’dleft her bracelet on the side, a thin, silver line reflecting the moonlightthrough the aging curtains.

Doris wasn’t inthe habit of taking pills at 2:30am. She wasn’t in the habit of anything.She must have noticed she’d missed a pill, and shifted the alarm on a fewhours to compensate.

I’m still sharp, she thought. Stillcompus mentus. She thought of the lifetime of country air she’d breathedin, and thought of her family in the city, and what was going through her lungs.

Still, she thought, it can’t beharming their growth. The kids are tall enough.

Awkward.

2011-09-27T20:45:00.000+01:00

Thisweek’s dig-a-hole-and-hide-in-it moment occurred at a writers’feedback meeting. I’d brought in a screenplay- a short comedyfeaturing homosexuality and Sadomasochism in gangland Britain. As youdo. Before the critique I suggested each part be read out by adifferent person. I purposefully didn’t tell anyone about thecontent- I just reeled off the character names and let people pickthem.

Unfortunately,this led to one man picking the role of a suppressed gay, and his ownson- who’d only been at the group a couple of times- picking therole of the straight object of said gay man’s affections.

Criiiinge.

Still,they were good sports and got through it. The script waswell-received and needs tweaking only a little. I’ve been advisedto get in touch with a few drama workshops to see if it could beacted out. The Northern Film Network were good for this kind ofthing… but they folded a couple of years ago. Does anyone want abash at shooting this script?

Get intouch! I’ll send it out to you.

matthewtuckey@hotmail.com

Those who beg for mercy...

2011-09-24T18:35:00.004+01:00

I wasattending a writers’ group in Oldham for a while, a couple of yearsago. We’d warm up for the sessions with a written exercise at thebeginning of the meeting. As a group we’d look for writingcompetitions and writing prompts in magazines and on websites. On oneweek, a group member found a competition in a TV Times magazine, whowere looking for new crime-writing talent. The weekly mag wantedshort story submissions in the crime genre that must begin with thisopening line:

Inmy experience, those who beg for mercy seldom deserve it.

Weused this prompt phrase as an exercise, and spent a few minutesdeveloping our stories. Here's my attempt.

In myexperience, those who beg for mercy seldom deserve it. The theorybehind this is, if you know you’re not guilty, you don’t have tobeg. After all, who begs if you don’t have to?

Thealibi saw the attacker fleeing in a red waterproof. The team hadscoured the CCTV and on that day there were two people captured oncamera matching that description. Made them both guilty as hell, oneafter the other. We bent the rules a little- circumstances dictatedit- and told each man they were the only suspect.

MichaelBishop, a distressed young man, sat in the plain room looking at thefloor.

I tooka chair. “You think any lawyer is going to pluck you out of this?”I tried to ask as calmly as I could, suggesting I was presuming hisguilt. I wasn’t presuming anything.

“Well,yeah,” he said. “And he’ll help me to sue you for defamation ofcharacter.”

“Giveit your best shot. I look forward to see you in court.”

Later,with Mr. Bishop counting the bricks in his cell and joking arrogantlywith the officers, we dragged Robert Neild into the interrogationroom, the cameras watching his every move.

He wasshaking as he slumped in the chair. “Look,” he said. “Yes, Iwas on the street.”

I’dnot even asked him a question.

“Youcan’t do this to me. I was provoked. He was gonna kick me head in.I was just, um… pre-empting it.”

Iraised my eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

Ithink in order to write a realistic police story, you’d needknowledge of police procedure. I don’t have it. That’s one of thereasons I never developed this, and it sat in an ageing notebook inmy cupboard for a couple of years.

However,if you're looking for more inspiration try Writing Magazine andWriters' Forum: two good publications for authors and poets. Themagazines often feature competitions and prompts that could be usedby writing groups as opening exercises. Find them in WH Smith andother outlets.

Formore creative writing prompts online, see here.

Odd French Jam Scenario

2011-09-23T09:18:00.001+01:00

Jamjam jam jam jam. I’m looking at my Blogger stats right now. And I’mconfused. I’ve been writing this blog for four years. I’vediscussed the antics of a range of celebs, described numerouscreative writing exercises, detailed a plethora of bizarre anecdotesand detailed numerous techniques for developing blog stats. Yet, whenI look at my own blog stats, the search terms (what people put intoGoogle to be directed here) don’t exactly reflect this. Do you knowwhat the top key search word is?

Yep.“Jam”.

Iwrote this post a while ago- a creative writing exercise where I linked one person’sopening line to another person’s closing line. It’s the only postI have written, to my knowledge, featuring “jam”. Other than thisone. Whether the written exercise will satisfy the curiosity ofGooglers is beyond me.

But,in the interest of developing blog stats- if it’s jam you want,it’s jam you shall have. There’s space to jam in a story, even ifit is a sticky one. In fact, while you’re reading, why not havesome background music to jam to?

Picturethe scene. Some time in the early nineties. On holiday. South ofFrance. Breakfast in the sun outside the caravan. Toast from thegrill. Unusual margarine from the hypermarket. Authentic Bonne MamanFrench jam. You can find this in Tesco back in rainy England- Mum hasalways bought this brand, certainly for as long as I can remember.She unscrews the lid as normal. It’s designed to be lumpy jam, withchunks of strawberry mixed in with the jelly. She scoops out a chunkwith the knife and lands it on the toast. And pauses.

There’ssomething in the jam. It’s small and black. It looks likediscolouration at first.

“Eurgh,”says Mum. Her top lip turns up. She digs her knife in like a scalpel.She cuts out a lump and scrapes it onto the side of her plate.

It’sa beetle. A dead one.

Iwonder what French peanut butter tastes like, and how secure theirpackaging procedures are. Jam is, for the next few weeks, off thechoices.

It’snow, what, fifteen years later. I’ve moved out of my parent’shouse. I just buy your standard Tesco jam. Mum still buys Bonne Maman.As far as I know, there have been no freebies since that summer.