BenPaddon.co.uk

This evening my Dad, Stepmom and I drove over to Ikea (by way of a British pub in Burbank named the Buchanan Arms, which was quite nice despite the fish not quite meeting the standards set by the Robin Hood) where I bought myself a shelving unit for my ever-growing collection of DVDs, books and vidjagames. I was fast running out of space on my current shelving unit, which is more or less the size of a termite’s intestinal tract, so I decided I shell out the dosh on a fairly non-crap sized thing to put my shit on.

I could talk to you about how much of a pain in the arse it was to put the unit together (in short: surprisingly easy, although I had to move it out of my room and into the kitchen to slide the back on… hang on, that wasn’t quite as short as I was aiming for) but instead I’m going to talk to you about Bob Marley. “My,” I hear you say, “That’s quite a tangent even for you, Ben.” But stay with me, because it is loosely connected to our excursion to Ikea.

Whilst in Ikea looking at lighting (because the desk in the office isn’t quite as well-lit as it could be, and in the interest of not causing our retinas to dissolve into a fine paste we were on the look-out for some nice desk lamps) I spotted a guy with dreadlocks. I was ill and my brain wasn’t quite functioning properly and so mentally I made a rather childish observation - “Hey, that guy looks like Bob Marley.” I spent the rest of the walk through Ikea with “No Woman No Cry” stuck in my head, and rather oddly it was (I think) playing on the in-store PA system as I was going through the Check Out. So, not twelve minutes ago, I bought “Legend” on iTunes. I also looked up the guy on Wikipedia (the online encyclopedia that anyone can edit) and discovered he died of Toe Cancer.

I’m not kidding. The guy had melanoma on the big toe on his right foot, and chose not to have the thing amputated because it was against his religious beliefs as a Rasta. The cancer spread throughout his body until it reached the terminal stage, and even then he refused to draw up a will because to do so would bely the Rastafari belief that death is not an inevitability*. I’d spent a long time believing that Bob Marley had been shot at a concert for being too much of a hippie or some such thing. But refusal to let someone lop his toe off? Seems a little silly to me. The guy could still be knocking out cracking tunes today if he was willing to part ways with the big spud on his right meatslab.

Oh well. Not much that can be done about it now, is there?

From Paul Kidby’s website:

Folks,

I would have liked to keep this one quiet for a little while, but because of upcoming conventions and of course the need to keep my publishers informed, it seems to me unfair to withhold the news. I have been diagnosed with a very rare form of early onset Alzheimer’s, which lay behind this year’s phantom “stroke”.

We are taking it fairly philosophically down here and possibly with a mild optimism. For now work is continuing on the completion of Nation and the basic notes are already being laid down for Unseen Academicals. All other things being equal, I expect to meet most current and, as far as possible, future commitments but will discuss things with the various organisers. Frankly, I would prefer it if people kept things cheerful, because I think there’s time for at least a few more books yet :o)

PS I would just like to draw attention to everyone reading the above that this should be interpreted as ‘I am not dead’. I will, of course, be dead at some future point, as will everybody else. For me, this maybe further off than you think - it’s too soon to tell. I know it’s a very human thing to say “Is there anything I can do”, but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry.

Deeply saddening stuff - Pratchett is my all-time favorite author, and probably the biggest influence on my writing style. It’s marvelous that he’s keeping such a positive, optimistic attitude. I guess if he can, then we can too…

It’s been a month or so since I put my original request in with ComiXpress to print the first issue of Jump Leads, and so far they’ve proven to be an utterly deficient as a printing company. Totally incompetent. For starters, they’ve sent me a grand total of three emails. The first one, sent three weeks after I put in that first request, was an automated email to let me know that my request had been put in something called the “flight queue”. The second email was an automated email stating that “A member of our team will look over your email and you will receive a personalized reply as quickly as we can get back to you,” sent after I sent them an email asking why they hadn’t bothered to contact me. The third email was another email that said “A member of our team will look over your email and you will receive a personalized reply as quickly as we can get back to you,” which their automated emailing system sent to me after I emailed them to complain about the lack of communication I’ve received from them. So far, I’ve seen absolutely no evidence that any human beings actually work for ComiXpress. It seems largely to be staffed by Mailbots offering false platitudes.

I intend to order a few hundred copies of the first issue - some to sell online, and some to take with me to the UK Web & Mini Comix Thing in March. If my order isn’t sorted out in time, I shall instead end up taking a bloody great big banner which reads, “DON’T USE COMIXPRESS, THEY’RE UNASHAMEDLY SHIT.” Then I will source print copies from another company. Then I will make my complaints against ComiXpress much, much more vocal.

Both Microsoft and GameStop have made it their solemn duty to royally shaft the Limey Immigrant (that’s me, if you hadn’t noticed) and as much as I would love to write about it here in blistering detail, I will instead be writing about it on a fairly high-profile gaming website as an introduction to a regular column about the joys and pitfalls of being a UK gamer moving to the US. Hopefully the first edition will be up sooner rather than later, but I imagine I’ll have finished writing it by the end of the weekend. Suffice to say, Microsoft are complete and utter idiots, GameStop moreso.

Which reminds me, I should really write something for RealVG. I haven’t had much in the way of inspiration in that area, and as most of my gaming thoughts these days have been concerning my immigration, and as that area of thought is pretty much reserved for my as yet unstarted column on That Other Website, I haven’t been particularly inspired to write anything for RealVG. Which is disappointing.

We went to the Midnight Launch of the final Harry Potter book last night. That is, we went at around 6pm but left at just after 9pm because we were all very, very tired. Dad and Linda have ordered their book elsewhere anyway so we were largely there for the atmosphere and the experience. It has to be said that Muggles are an interesting folk. Y’know. Mentally. But they’re fun, at the least.

I am not a huge fan of Harry Potter. I can see the appeal of the books, certainly, but they aren’t really for me. Not to say I dislike Harry Potter, of course, and I can relate in a sense to the sort of Harry Potter fan who will go to midnight book launches and film openings wearing a full Hogwarts outfit complete with wand and Sorting Hat. It was only last year, after all, that I was making plans to go to the Nintendo Wii launch in Nottingham wearing one of my many Nintendo tee-shirts (which would have been hidden underneath one of my many Nintendo hoodies anyway). I didn’t go because I couldn’t afford to, but I think it’s safe to say that if I could have afforded to go, I would have. Oh yes.

That said, I do seem to get a rather immature delight from pretending that the world of Harry Potter infuriates me. Dropping my head in my hands whenever one of our friends (because they’re not just my Dad’s friends anymore) mentions the impending seventh book, or talks about the new film, has become almost habitual now. It’s silly really. I think it’s because it makes people laugh, and I have a deeply rooted urge to make people laugh, even if it makes me look foolish. I’m often doing that; making myself seem stupid or ignorant just to get a smile from someone. I seem to hop between Ignorance and Brilliance as and when it suits me, as and when I think whichever response is most likely to generate mirth.

I am, once again, sort of straying from the point. There’s something else I’m good at - digressing.

On Tuesday night Dad, Linda, a few friends and I went to to the midnight opening of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I’d never gone to a midnight anything before, despite planning, and I thought it’d be fun to go along. That night I didn’t say a single negative word about the franchise, probably because my internal censor (who, I imagine, bares a stark resemblance to Chris Barrie) thought the better of it. I had a thoroughly enjoyable night out, and the film was quite good too. It felt short, as though there were bits missing (Warner Bros. took the longest book and somehow managed to make the shortest Potter film to date), but it was rather enjoyable overall.

My only gripe with the film was its reliance on A-List British celebrities. If it were me, and I were in charge of a bloody great big film series such as Harry Potter, I’d be using it as a chance to cast unknowns in at least some of the bigger roles. Seeing Helena Bonham Carter cast in a role that she obviously enjoyed filming is lovely, but it might’ve been nice to see some fresh blood. Particularly as, according to online rumours, the character she plays briefly in this film plays a rather important part in the seventh book. Oh well. Hollywood needs bankable names, and casting Jeanne Bloggs or Daniella Noname isn’t going to make them any money. Except this is a Harry Potter film. It’s going to make them a ton of money whether they cast the role with Helena Bonham Carter or William bloody Shatner.

That’s my gripe over and done with.

Incidentally, I’d like to remind my loyal readers that nothing says “revenge” quite like success.

Edit: Apparently I’d completely missed my blog’s second Birthday at the end of June. I think I have a good enough excuse considering I’ve been totally altering damn near every aspect of my life, so I think my blog will forgive the belated “Happy Blogday” mention.

Today has been a day of much larking about, doing bugger-all and generally chillaxing (I actually hate the pseudo-word “chillax”, it sounds like a combined cold remedy and laxative). I went into Dunstable to have lunch with Teri, which was nice. While in Dunstable I’d intended to buy some jeans but decided on a whim to not buy some jeans and to instead pick up Diddy Kong Racing DS. In retrospect, I probably should have bought the jeans. Later I went into Just the Games, a videogame store that sells a cornucopia of PC games from years gone by, only to discover that they no longer sell a cornucopia of PC games from years gone by but instead they sell whatever shit has been released this week. And not much else. For those of you keeping score, that’s Dissapointment: 2, Mirth: nil.

I went into Dunstable’s branch of HSBC, only to walk out again because it was remarkably small and they had a 20-30 minute wait (pah!). And so I hopped on another bus and went into Luton.

An old school friend of mine, Laura, got onto the bus. It was good to catch up - the last time we’d spoken was when I thought I’d be flying out to the US at the end of March - and she told me that she had broken up with her boyfriend yesterday. We got talking and when we got off the bus we were still talking, and I ended up hanging out with her and a friend of hers as they did some “cheer up, Laura” shopping. As fun as it was, I was beginning to feel a bit of a third wheel after a while and so I decided to leave Laura and her friend to it and head on to HSBC.

HSBC didn’t open a bank account for me because they needed a Utility Bill. Still, I have an appointment booked in to open an account next Tuesday and I have ordered a bank statement from the incredible fuckwits at Barclays which, I have been informed by HSBC Person, is perfectly acceptable. So I may well be doing that, then. Ultimately I don’t even know if I’m going to use the HSBC. It seems somewhat of a bad place to keep my money. Don’t get me wrong, they’re a sound bank, but Amy has friends and family who work for them, and I am of the opinion that she is not above asking them to fuck about with my account. The people in question are generally nice people, and I don’t think they would even if they were asked, but it’s still security issue for me.

Anyway, I picked up some essentials - socks, deodorant, Bomberman Land Touch! for the DS, and Batman: Year One and Hogfather from Waterstones - and headed back home. Bizarrely, a piece of spam has just now arrived in my inbox bearing the subject “And indeed, in Ankh-Morpork, too.” - spooky.

I read Year One, as I have been meaning to do for a while, and it’s very, very good. You can see a lot of the ideas that went on to form Batman Begins, but it’s a very different beast. Fantastic stuff. I haven’t yet sat down to read Hogfather, because I’m still reading Soul Music, so Teri is borrowing my crisp, clean copy of Hogfather for now. She wants to read it after watching the televised adaptation that Sky One showed last year, that I have on DVD. I would be lying if I said that DVD had nothing to do with the purchase.

Anyway, I mentioned I’d bought two new DS games, and as they have Wifi capability I’ve added the new Friend Codes to the left sidebar. Feel free to add me, although I can’t imagine I’ll be playing Diddy that much.

I finished reading Yes Man by Danny Wallace today. What an incredible book. It is, at times, utterly unbelievable, but it all happened. I was hooked - from the first word I read on Monday, right up to the last which I read in my second tea break at work. It’s a superb book. A splendid book. It’s probably the best book I’ve read all year, finer even than Pratchett’s The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents (which was also very, very good).

I expect it’d be hard for someone to read Yes Man and then not stop to think about their own life, and the times they’ve said Yes, or No. I did this. I’ve been doing it since I started reading the book, in fact. I thought about the times when I wished I’d said Yes instead of No, and vice versa, and while I have made many mistakes, I can’t say I have any actual regrets.

I started to think that maybe I should start being more positive - saying Yes more myself. But then I thought… I’m already doing that. I’ve made some bloody great big decisions lately, said some huge Yeses. Yes to America, for one thing. That’s a whopper, that is. I don’t know what other Yes opportunity could possibly role by that would have that much impact. Not yet, at least.

I’ve leant Yes Man to Teri. She needs it right now. She’s not happy, and despite the fact that we’re at each others throats most of the time, I do care about her. She’s my sister, after all.

The nurse who gave me my vaccinations yesterday had warned me yesterday that I might experience flu-like symptoms, and that my arm might feel a little funky. Well, my arm appears to be experiencing flu-like symptoms while my brain feels a little funky. Isn’t it funny how the world works?

I feel very, very funked out right now. Very funked out. I feel like I’m a balloon without any air in it, and it’s a real chore to do pretty much anything with my right arm. I really hope I feel better than this tomorrow because otherwise I may have to call in sick at work. That wouldn’t go down too well, I’d wager.

I’m going to take it easy today. Read some books, watch some telly… I’ll avoid playing videogames if possible… although that said today is the last day I have to tell my turnips on Animal Crossing: Wild World. I hope I can make a profit on them or at least break even.

I need to chill out a bit. I’ve nearly finished reading The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, which is on the whole a rather good book, and once I’ve finished that I can crack on with Yes Man, by Danny Wallace. I’ve been meaning to read that for a while, so I’m looking forward to it.

Last night I sat down and watched Ghost Light. I still only the vaguest of ideas what was going on and I expect I will have to re-watch it at some point in the near future. Old memories were stirred when the opening titles played, and even during the closing titles. I’m fairly sure that I used to watch Doctor Who when I was much younger, and as the show finished in 1989 - three years after I was born - this is entirely possible. I’m sure if anyone knows the answer to that one it’d be my Dad, who I probably used to watch the show with.

I’ve also started to read Nostradamus Ate My Hamster, which is turning out to be rather enjoyable. Robert Rankin (the author, on the off-chance you didn’t know) has been compared to Terry Pratchett. And I really like Pratchett. Certainly Rankin is a writer, he writes fantasy-comedy novels, and he makes me laugh (or at least he has done so far). I would say that the similarities end there, as their writing styles are markedly different. I’ve not got far enough into the book for any sort of plot to occur - I started reading it at 2 o’ clock in the morning by which time I was quite tired, so I’m only up to Chapter 2 - but what I have read has been thoroughly enjoyable.

Also, something else has happened, something I had not expected to happen quite so soon but nevertheless it has happened and balls are rolling. I don’t know if I can talk about it yet, though. I shall let you know if/when I can.

Edit: This isn’t the thing I’m referring to in the above paragraph but my sister has agreed to come out to lunch with me. Which is nice. And she’s actually communicated with me today, using both words and cookies. I take this as a positive development.

Just one of many jokes (well, two) I’ve been able to make since buying Rob Grant’s latest literary work, Fat. I liked Colony and I really enjoyed Incompetence, so I am very much looking forward to reading this book. I’ve read some of the first chapter - there’s a preview over on RedDwarf.co.uk - and I like what I’ve read so far.

Also, my right hand has gone very cold and aches slightly and I have no idea why.

I have been trying now for some time to get Amy to read books by Terry Pratchett. A while ago we made a promise: I’d read the first book in Brian Jacque’s Redwall series and she’d read the first book in the Discworld series. Unfortunately for reasons I have totally forgotten Amy never got ’round to reading that first book, The Colour of Magic, and so that deal fell through.

(Incidentally I did read Redwall and it was a bit too serious for my tastes, but otherwise it was a good read.)

So come payday this month and we make our regular trip to Waterstone’s (formerly Ottakars). Amy picks up Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (since we went out to LA last year Amy’s become quite into the Harry Potter novels and films… that’s my Dad’s bad influence for you), Fantastic Mr Fox (a Roald Dahl classic), and as it’s 3 for 2 she debates which other book she should buy, as they didn’t have any copies of the second book in the Harry Potter series.

I noticed that they had two of my favourite Pratchett children’s books - Truckers and Wings, the first and last parts respectively of the Bromeliad Trilogy (sometimes referred to as the Nome trilogy). The second book in the trilogy, Diggers, is actually the first Pratchett book I ever read. It’s not the first Pratchett book I enjoyed - that honour goes to its sequel, Wings. Anyway, I’m going off on a tangent again. I’d spotted the two books and I recall thinking it was strange how Waterstone’s didn’t seem to have any second-book-in-a-series in stock today, although as though some strange man had bought every copy of every second book in a series. Right next to these two books, however, I spotted The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, one of the dozen-or-so Pratchett books I’ve not yet got around to reading.

Amy read the blurb and thought it sounded good and agreed to pick it up on the condition that she read it first. Aha! Not only is she buying a Pratchett book for us, but she’s asked to read it first! And she’s enjoying it, too. Looks like I may well convert her yet *evil snicker*