The Two Week Dissertation Race

Allow me to brush the dust off this blog. What have we been doing with my life for the past academic year? The same thing we do every academic year Pinky…play videogames, play Ultimate and get my work done just at the point where it becomes personally terrifying not to. I won’t say it’s been an ideal formula so far, but neither has it particularly let me down. Aren’t I the very picture of academic acumen?

Not to say there hasn’t been anything worth blogging about over the last five months, only that I’ve been lax in reporting them. Well, all that changes now that we’re entering…

THE TWO WEEK DISSERTATION RACE

I’ve got an important piece of work due in two weeks. It’s my dissertation, which for Creative Writing is a 6,000 word piece of writing, followed by 2,000 words of fancy-worded introspection, where I conjure up authors and texts I may have barely heard of that certainly had an immeasurable influence on my work. My piece has got a tinge of fantasy flavour, like if you’d spooned fantasy in your tea then used that same spoon to eat your cereal with, and plays with pre-conceived audience perceptions of narration and blah blah blah literary speak blah. I’ve got the ideas down, a quarter of it written, and a bulky plan, and now it’s time for the execution, one way or the other.

So why choose now to reboot blogging? Because writing this seems like the better alternative to writing the work that actually needs to be done. It’s a strange kind of procrastination and one that I’m no stranger to. Also because I suspect I can write wry observations far better than I can a piece of fiction. At any rate there’s a few topics lingering on the edge of my mind that I may just hammer down on cyber-paper each day before attempting to do serious work. I’ll pass it off as an intellectual warm-up.

It will be an adventure. It’ll quite likely be the kind of adventure where the plucky youngster must face up to how his dapper enthusiasm is meaningless in the face of a cruel world, but it’ll be an adventure none the less.

Game on.

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Aliens and Angry Birds

Imagine, if you will, a hypothetical race of exterrestrials who can only observe us through our electronics. Let’s call them the Electromorphs, though admittedly this sounds like a kind of Vietnamese rip-off of The Power Rangers.

The Electromorphs can’t listen to us and they can’t see us. All they can do is tap into our technology and witness how we use it. They can see every bit and byte that flies from one smartphone to another, and watch every shape and word on our dear little screens. They can read the delicate subtleties of electrical currents in the same deft way we read two celebrities bicker at one another on twitter.

Initially this might sound like the premise for the world’s worst member of the X-Men, but let’s consider this for a second. According to Ofcom, almost one quarter of UK adults own a smartphone. The Electromorhps would hardly be wanting for their own peculiar brand of electro-speak, but the question is what would they learn from it?

Well, first they’d have to get past all the junk – all the inane Facebook chatter, twitter live-blogging and softcore porn. Yet being the space-faring race that they are (they are, how else would they be hovering above the planet watching everything I do on my iPhone?) they’re also intelligent, so they know to look for patterns.

Once they took a cursory look around the digital e-scape of the human race they’d come to a single conclusion: Humankind apparently have a strange fetish for horrific violence if it’s done in saccharine visuals. Sure we eat social networking up like it was gods own ambrosia, but not with as much voracious fervor as we apparently play Angry Birds.

Yes, Angry Birds, an ostensibly cutesy game where you fire a variety of colorful, perturbed avians (that sometimes explode) into the sloppily made block houses of the egg stealing green pigs. While the Electromorphs dredge through our communications they’d notice a lot of people play Angry Birds – half a billion actually, though that’s on the American scale. If you’d prefer your data in cold, hard calculator language it’s 500,000,000 part-time commanders of the kamikaze Grand Avian Army. There are enough people playing Angry Birds that if they banded together and rose up they could pretty much take any standing army on earth, assuming the future of warfare relies on the dexterous use of a catapult and all the enemy tanks are made out of loose planks of wood.

The Electromorphs would certainly be confused. Here are a technologically advanced species that have used seem mostly preoccupied with systematic animal abuse, but done in a colourful and cutesy way. It’s like if Dora the Explorer were to visit a cock-fighting ring, her chirpy tone and warm smile never flickering while a drug-addled rooster ripped the eyes out of a fellow chicken.

Since Angry Birds released on the iOS app store in December 2009, people all around the world have pooled 200,000 years of time on it. On every bus, every train ride and every dull lapse in conversation people are deftly flicking birds into the side of buildings. And for what? It’s less for the twisted, sadistic fun of it all, but just for something to do. It’s a sad state of affair where we have to resort to battering deformed animals just to pass the time. All the while, unseen, the Electromorphs watch us, appalled, while we rain down buildings on hapless pigs with one hand and update our Facebook status with the other: Lol just wrecked level 1-8 on Angry Birds. Suck it pigs!

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The Dreaded Lergy

The trouble with me being a third year now (y’know, apart from the dissertation and my imminent propulsion back into the real world) is the lack of stuff to talk about on here. I’m writing these very words with a vague sense of deja-vue actually, half sure that I’ve begun a blog with a similar introduction.

I dislike dedicating a blog to saying what I’ve done that day, which would only be a perpetual cycle of mash the snooze button, seminar/lecture, frisbee training, videogames and going to sleep a whole two hours later than I’d told myself I would. Splice in nights out and the occasional frantic essay deadline and the day-to-day me makes for decidedly dull reading.

So in an attempt to keep the Aber Insiders ball rolling I’m going to reach back in time and hammer out a few hundred words on what’s currently plaguing me now.

Which is the actual plague. Or freshers flu as it’s commonly known.

Nobody is quite sure why it happens. The theories range. Perhaps it’s how you’re suddenly packed in with lots of new people, or maybe your immunity is torpedoed down thanks to the financial splurge that is freshers week. Maybe it’s some kind of intentional bonding experience the universities silently inflict on us. Nothing is quite as community-building as going from door to door with cups of Lemsip after all.

After two, going on three, droughts of the thing I’m not really sure. This year my freshers week was pretty modest actually, owing to tighter funds and a need to be up and functioning at 9am the next day, and yet I’m still coming down with the thing. I’m downing glass-after-glass of Tropicana and I’m still feeling the coughs creeping up my throat. This is made worse by an incoming string of weekends given over to frisbee tournaments. I’m pretty much reconciled to the fact that I’m going to become a wheezing zombie in a few days time.

If you’re going to take anything away from this mini anecdote let it this: if you’re coming to university in the future then bring all the pre-emptive virus kill you can find – and lots of orange juice. If you’re reading this as a current university student then it’s probably too late for you. Buy some tissues and some vapour-rub and enjoy the two-days-for-free card that your illness will allow you.

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Summer sack of odds and ends

It didn’t seem all that long ago since the suns light stayed around until 10pm. A few Aber-dwelling weeks later and already the nights are drawing in, the new academic year is pulling his socks on and all the bits and bobs I need to consider are lining up like troops ready to storm a castle.

My summer has been fairly good. I spent it in Aber y’see. With an increased rent for my third year my bank account really couldn’t deal with another summer not working, so I grabbed a job just about before they all got swept up, dug in my heels and prepared for a summer of sea, sun and streets packed with tourists. I whiled away the time with some friends who chose to stay the time as well and most days were either spent working, reading, gaming or writing. Pretty standard then. Regardless of how sedate the summer is compared to the student-rammed swing of mid-year it’s none-the-less been really fun.

Day trips have come and gone, nights out and old-friends have visited and since left but overall there’s been little worth dedicating a blog to that would interest you.

The coming year, however, might do. It’s my third year, in case you haven’t been counting, and that means dissertation time. Being a Creative Writing student my dis is simply a piece of writing. Being that open-ended I’ve of course spent the entire summer giving it the odd thought only to find myself deciding on nothing – something that is worrying when I see some friends already plugging away at their own research.

There’s been the Ultimate Frisbee club to think of as well. My work for that over summer has mostly consisted of the odd trip up to the union to hand in an invoice, followed several weeks later by a curtly worded email three weeks later when nothing seems to have been done. The same goes for the sports centre who appear to be ignoring my emails as best they can. Being president has so far been one part initiative to four parts nagging and pestering.

And then there’s our house, a place that’s been nice enough for our time over summer but that’s inevitably going to descend into chaos once all nine of us are move in shortly. Our back garden is full of bags of sand, we’re missing several utilities* and that basement kitchen/games room that’s in the contract has conspiculously failed to materialise, a point I wouldn’t be so concerned about if I weren’t paying for its absence.

Fun as this summer has been, third year is going to be interesting to say the least, and I say interesting here in the same way you might describe a raging blood-hound as ’spirited’.

*For the purpose of this paragraph ‘not having a gaping security hazard’ is to be considered a utility.

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A personal history of Sonic the Hedgehog

It feels slightly strange that I feel compelled to wish a fictional videogame character Happy Birthday, but I don’t really care. I’ve posted it on my facebook wall, no doubt to puzzled expressions or rolling eyes to the majority of my friends list, but dammit, Sonic the Hedgehog holds a special place in my heart and I’m going to throw a celebration for him, even if that celebration takes place in my head.

Sonic the Hedgehog for the SEGA Megadrive (Genesis, what the hell is that?) was pretty much the first game I recall ever playing and certainly the first videogame I ever owned. Somewhere I had played it before, perhaps over my cousins house in the weeks leading up to December.

I was immediately struck by the little blue blur. The character was bright and stood out against the lushness of the green environment that the game used as a background for its first level. The controls were simple, and pinging Sonic over spikes, blasting him around wild loop-the-loops and bouncing him like a helpless pinball across springs at a breakneck pace was sheer exhilaration to my infant eyes. Factor in the iconic music and chirpy sound effects and I was hooked on Sonic.

The iconic Green Hill Zone - the first stage of Sonic's first adventure.

I distinctly remember getting my Megadrive for Christmas. As I finished opening my presents that morning I couldn’t help but feel a little dissapointed at the lack of that one thing I had most been looking forward to. Yeah, call me ungrateful if you will, but I was a kid, and to have seen no sign of that big, bulky box was all kinds of dissapointing. Having unwrapped all of the presents and having become resigned to the reality of no Sonic this Christmas, I flicked open the Christmas card envelopes that took a backseat to the ritualistic opening of the presents. At the non-so-subtle suggestion from my parents I paid extra attention to the one from Santa. Amongst all of the usual pre-printed Merry Christmas wishes was an extra message, handwritten at the bottom: “Look in the porch”.

Barely able to conceal my grin I waded through all of the discarded wrapping paper and threw open the door to the porch. This being winter, and me and my sister demanding our Christmas morning to start early, it still wasn’t light yet, but amongst the darkness I could still clearly make out the form of quite a large box.

Yeah…my other presents didn’t get much of a look in that day. Right there and then I was allowed to tear open the box and hook the system straight up to the living room TV to blast through the first few levels of Sonic the Hedgehog in glorious colour. Later on in the day I had to take it upstairs to my monochrome TV, but the magic was still there regardless. Over the next few weeks I worked on getting good enough at the game to complete it, which was no easy task given the absence of any save system. Game over really meant game over back then.

Later on, with a certainty that seems almost cynical to me today, Sonic the Hedgehog 2 was released, featuring new zones, new features and a new character, Miles ‘Tails’ Prower. Usually Tails would limply follow Sonic around the levels as if tied to him with string. Plugging in a second controller though, allowed another player to control Tails and use his unique ability of limited flight to carry Sonic to useful parts of the level, often containing hidden lives or temporary invincibility. It also added the ability to become the lauded Super Sonic – a practically invincible, golden coloured version of the hero who could rip through levels at a much quicker pace.

The start screen to Sonic 2, featuring Sonic's sidekick, Tails

Sonic was such a hit that it couldn’t be confined to videogames much longer, and being an avid child fan of the guy, I was only too happy to be taken along for the ride. The first stop was Sonic the Comic, a British comic strip set in an oddly compelling dystopian setting where Sonic and co fought against the nefarious Dr. Robotnik as plucky revolutionaries. I can’t remember precisely when I started picking the comics up and nor can I remember much about the many storylines the fortnightly comic told. What I do remember is stopping into my local Newsagents every other week on my way home from school to pick up the latest issue. To this day I remain a fan of the comics various styles of artwork, and I still have a huge stack of them tucked away in my bottom draw in my bedroom back home.

Apparently really liking the whole dystopian/Sonic mix, somebody thought it would be a good idea to make a TV show based on a similar premise. Departing almost entirely from the established norms of the Sonic universe Sonic Underground placed the character, along with two original characters Sonia and Manic, as a prince fighting against the tyrannical rule of Robotnik after he seized control of the planet, forcing most of its inhabitants into poverty and completely destroying its environment. Gritty stuff for a Saturday morning children’s cartoon. It seems odd to me that I’d force myself awake at 7am in the morning on a Saturday just to get up and fiddle with the tape recorder so I could collect the episodes and re-watch them all weekend. The series ran for forty episodes, meaning the overarching plot whereby the three heroes had to reunite with their long lost mother to fulfil a prophecy and defeat Robotnik, was tragically never fulfilled.

The characters also destroyed the robotic agents of the authoritarian regime using magical instruments. Fucking rock ‘n’ roll!

While Sonic was branching out to all kinds of other media, it was still the games that were my main focus. Sonic R sticks out as one title that can probably be classed as a gross misuse of the Sonic franchise and an affront to videogames everywhere. Sonic R was a third person racing game set over a handful of dodgy-looking 3D courses, with weird controls and a completely misplaced, if hilarious powerpop soundtrack. Looking back on it, it was a travesty. Playing it back then, it was more blue hedgehog to play with, so I loved it.

The best Sonic game of all time came to me on a PC disc. It was Sonic 3 along with Sonic and Knuckles combined into one, seamless game and it was, to me, the definitive 2D Sonic experience. The levels were varied, many and immaculately designed. The music was memorable, you could save your progress and there was hints at some kind of story going on. The game also introduced Knuckles the echidna, the third character that would be considered among the core iconic characters of the entire franchise who brought along with him another unique play-style as well as alternative level routes and a story running parallel to Sonic’s. Even after multiple playthroughs with all the characters I was surprised to learn years later that there was an extra last boss to face had you hunted down all the chaos emeralds hidden away among the levels, as well as the ability to become the insanely powerful Hyper Sonic, Super Tails and Hyper Knuckles. It was a game that kept on giving well after I thought I’d completed it and I still regularly dip into it today.

Later on other mascots such as Mario and Link of Legend of Zelda were barreling into 3D with stunning confidence and Sonic was sure to follow. Unfortunately it seemed that the Sonic Team had trouble translating the quick paced platforming of the 2D games into the third dimension. The Sonic Adventure games – the first fully 3D games in the series – had a schizophrenic camera and touchy controls. That didn’t stop me from enjoying the franchise as it made the rocky transition to 3D though. Staying over a friends house one evening I was introduced to Sonic Adventure 2 on the SEGA Dreamcast. A week later I had ordered a Dreamcast of my own from ebay.

Sonic Adventure 2 was split between the heroes – Sonic, Tails and Knuckles – and the villains – Shadow, the recently renamed Eggman, and Rouge – with each character having their different types of levels. Sonic and Shadow had the modern, three dimensional approximation of the standard Sonic speed running. Tails and Eggman strode around in small mechs shooting down robots and Knuckles and Rouge hunted for shards of emerald in a convoluted, if fairly fun, game of hot-or-cold. The Sonic/Shadow sections were the best parts of the game gameplay-wise, even if the controls could sometimes be difficult to deal with. The most enduring aspect of the game remains its music. Composed mostly by Japanese/American hard-rock band Crush 40, each level had its own theme from a variety of different genres, including rock, ska and hip-hop. Particularly note-worthy is the hard-rock anthemic title track Live and Learn which also plays during the final boss encounter. The track still gets regular play on my iPod.

Even after completing the game several times I had to continue replaying levels to support the surprisingly nuanced Chao breeding game. In a celestial sky bubble off the main map were a few gardens where you could hatch, breed and compete the charming Chao creatures, or use the Dreamcast’s unique memory card to take the pet around with you – tamagotchi style. As much as the main game and story was surprisingly entertaining, it was the Chao side-game and the fantastic musical tracks that cement it in my memory.

However the jarring transition to the third dimension was ultimately unkind to the blue blur. As the ill-fated Dreamcast faded from commercial relevence games such as the angsty gun-totting Shadow the Hedgehog - indicative of the franchises passage into adolescence – and the critically ignored Sonic the Hedgehog (2006) drove Sonic’s status as a gaming juggernaut somewhat into the ground. Even recent attempts to go back to Sonic’s roots such as Sonic 4, the self-styled true sequel to the classic Sonic 3, were largely underwhelming.

Sonic as a franchise may not carry as much punch as he once did, but I still can’t deny my love for the character. I still enjoy dipping into Sonic 3/Knuckles, regularly seek out remixes of some of the retro tunes and can’t wait until Sonic Adventure 2 is released on the Xbox Live Arcade. I dressed up (badly) as the character the last Halloween and optimistically carry his name on the back of my Ultimate Frisbee kit.

So now Sonic the Hedgehog is twenty years old and it’s nice to think that I’ve grown up alongside him. Today SEGA released a demo for Sonic Generations, a game featuring some of the best levels throughout Sonic’s 2D and 3D games. I’ve played the demo – a gorgeous looking and great playing remastering of the very first level I played all that time ago on Christmas morning. The game comes out later this year. When I play through its levels it might just be like blasting through an episodic, robot-filled, floating ring-strewn version of my entire life up to now, and I look forward to it.

Sonic the Hedgehog is twenty today. Happy 20th!

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Vanilla

Come back after Easter. Revise for exam. Sit exam. Exam goes decently. Jam for weeks. Give group presentation. Group presentation goes well. Spend torturous days cleaning, moving and one day technically being homeless. Weekend in Swansea for frisbee. Get part-time job here in Aber.

Would you like any more details to fill out those abrasive sentences? Probably not. But if you’re a person who happens to be stalking me – who is currently on the edge of your seat, nose pressed against the computer screen and your eyes crossed hard in the glare – then you’ll be completely out of luck because everything that happened in between those rough points of interest are now just fluff in my memory.

There’s a handy little feature over to the left of these posts that allows you to browse all that I’ve written by month. It’s gotten to the stage now where I’ve completed almost one whole rotation of the entire calender and I can now compare and contrast this years blog posts with what was going on last year, like a Literature exam paper asking  its questions on the petulant musings of boredom personified.

A few weeks back I was thinking of some stuff to write about only for me to realise I’d already covered it. The weather is turning really nice all of a sudden? Did that. Oh shit, I’ve made it to the end of this academic year and now have to pick modules for next year? That already happened. That gnawing sense of apathy I seem to get around the years end? Covered it. May Ball? Old.

As the shameless number of other blog links in this post will no doubt attest to, in many ways second year felt like a distorted, washed out mirror to first year – a second helping of ice cream that is just now beginning to taste sickly. Not that there wasn’t a lot of awesome stuff going on in second year. Living in a house with my friends from first year was usually unmitigated hilarity – last year just seemed more unique.

This isn’t to say that I’m going to stop eating the ice cream, or stop trying to enjoy the ice cream…which makes sense because I’ve already paid for the ice cream. Maybe in this tortured, cyclical, dessert-based analogy what I really need is a new flavour of ice cream.

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Committee, Reunion and Stuff

It was almost exactly one year ago that I wrote about me being the vice-president on the Ultimate Frisbee societies committee. I think I made the point that, if someone had told me a year previous to this that I’d be in such a position, I’d do something to express my disbelief at such an assertion. A year onwards and I now find myself the president of the club. If you’d told me this two years ago then I’d express a lot of disbelief. Disbelief times two, or disbelief squared, or whatever the most appropriate mathematical metaphor is.

So now seems like a good time for that blog I’ve been meaning to write about how being on a club committee works. Being the Vice-President I was mostly responsible for doing whatever jobs the president delegated. In practical terms this was usually stuffing tame information such as training times, tournament dates and social information with lame jokes and passing it off as a ‘weekly email’.

Then there was quite a bit of stuff at the beginning of the year, mostly to do with the sports fair and recruitment. I dusted off my old copy of photoshop and tried my hand at making some posters, leaflets, a banner and a recruitment video. The recritment video never really surfaced, owing to my failure to catch decetn clips on camera, but luckily a few ‘best-of’ clips found on youtube worked probably better than anything I could have come up with.

Perhaps the biggest challenge of the year was the Mwnci See 15 Year Reunion Tournament. It’s a fairly long phrase, and as the person primarily in charge of rounding up participants and running the email account, I had to type it out many times. There were a very few of us tasked with making the reunion happen, and at several moments I found myself facepalming hard because people who had expressed interest by ways of facebook group simply weren’t signing up. Eventually a projected interest of about 80 was cut down to 47ish with days to go before we had to really begin ordering shirts and booking the meal. In customary fashion, as soon as we had sealed off the sign-ups and ordered everything we sold out of our reserve places in two days flat. Yet despite some of the bumps in organising it, it was a really successful reunion and was a massive challenge, but a lot of fun, to actually organise.

And then here we are at the end of the year. Everyone on the committee are friends with one another anyway, so meetings and serious stuff is always easy and informal anyway, and that’s continuing next year as well. While being at the helm of a group tasked with expanding on the solid work done this year in terms of recruitment, on-pitch proficiency and it-being-really-fun is going to be a challenge, what’s life without a crap-ton of said challenge?

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Indoor Nine Hole Beer Golf

A visual guide on how reduced-price ping-pong balls and a small stack of plastic cups can occupy you for hours.

Begin by customising your ball. I went with the poke'ball style, naturally.

Begin by customising your ball. I went with the poke'ball style, naturally.

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First hole on the third step up. Note the pseudo-golf dress.

The game requires the concentration, dedication and mental fortitude of an athlete.

The game requires the concentration, dedication and mental fortitude of an athlete.

We weighed the cups down with a measure of water. This did not play well with the customised balls.

We weighed the cups down with a measure of water. This did not play well with the customised balls.

Off the door at an angle and onto the chair was a popular tactic on this hole.

Off the door at an angle and onto the chair was a popular tactic on this hole.

Upstairs now. We snaked the holes all throughout the house.

Upstairs now. We snaked the holes all throughout the house.

You have to establish a pivot foot where your ball lands. Warning: This rule may cause hilarity.

You have to establish a pivot foot where your ball lands. Warning: This rule may cause hilarity.

Craft a set of rules and punishments of your own for the beer aspect of the game.

Craft a set of rules and punishments of your own for the beer aspect of the game.

Drop shot from a third-story window.

Drop shot from a third-story window.

From the fire escape into the bottom kitchen window...

From the fire escape into the bottom kitchen window...

...and into the final hole.

...and into the final hole.

Indoor nine hole beer golf. You can thank us later.

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Pokemon 4 Life

Ok, so I had vaguely considered my next blog being about Pokemon.

Pokemon has been a big thing in my house for the last few weeks and the latest release of Pokemon Black and White provoked all those good childhood memories out of the corners of our brains, begging us to relive them before the pessimism of old age deems it too childish for us to be allowed to have fun with it.

Before we all went home for Easter it was all about Pokemon battles amongst ourselves, formulating sneaky strategies and surprise new monsters to use against one another and breaking randomly into the original Pokemon theme song.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, university life IS THIS AWESOME. Turns out in addition to practically being a coat-hanger for my childhood, Pokemon also possesses a deep and complicated meta-game that lends itself very well to competition.

So yeah, I enjoy playing the game, but fellow Aberystwyth students have something even better. They’re currently playing a Pokemon marathon lasting about four days, and donating all the proceeds to The British Red Cross to help with their aid in the Japan crisis. I don’t exaggerate when I say I can’t think of many things better than playing a crap-ton of videogames for charity.

Philanthropists can donate to decide what Pokemon they catch, what they’re named and what Pokemon stay in the groups six-poke’-party. True to the antagonism of the internet, donations have deemed the group carry around a Magikarp – probably the worst Pokemon in the series – for a significant portion of their first game. However that didn’t stop is catching three of the rarest Pokemon in the entire game.

Check out the bellow links, spread the word, and go donate.

Pokemon 4 Life


Eascapist Magazine’s article on the marathon


Pokemon 4 Life facebook page

My my, Aberystwyth and its people get more and more awesome with each passing week. Nice one guys!

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Why I can’t write an essay in one evening

Welcome. It’s Thursday afternoon, and I have an essay in for Monday. Usually that would be fine. Usually I’d sit in the library like some tech-savvy squatter for three days, idly chipping away at my word count and drinking milky coffee from that coffee machine with the name in High Owen. Unfortunately for this vision of a more relaxing time, this weekend is the weekend of our home-hosted Ultimate Frisbee tournament. As such I will be unable to do my essay over the weekend, because my bedroom is also going to be used to host a visiting team. Therefore I have tonight, and all of the day on Friday to do the essay, with Sunday evening being a contingency plan that I really do not want to have to fall back on. Best get to work then…

10:00: It’s 10pm. There’s a long evening ahead of me, but I have the snack reserves of a candy-minded dragon to keep me going. I’ve chosen the topic title of my essay after four days of wasted effort flirting with another title. It looks like it’s going to be an account of narrators and narrative in the two texts. This isn’t as cool as my first question choice, THE SEEDS OF DYSTOPIA, but whatever. I’ll take what I can get. Anyway, it’s two hours to midnight and I’ve also done a bit of reading. When I say ‘a bit’ I mean a page of an essay that I found on Google Scholars. Now that the title is written down and looking quite lonely on its own there at the top of the page, I’m feeling hungry. Like I said…there’s a long night ahead of me and I’m kind of sleepy as well. I’ll take a short break to get some pasta and some coffee.

12:00: It’s midnight. Yes, thank you, the pasta was fine, and the coffee was good. I sat down, and apparently my brain was working on the essay question while I chewed vacuously in front of two of my house-mates playing Halo. I got back to the laptop and banged out 200 words for an introduction. I’m confidently positing things in this introduction that I don’t really know, but that all sound very scholarly. I’m at 260 words now. It’s going well. Now I just need to trawl through my texts, resources and articles and prove everything I’ve said I would.

12:30: I’ve been distracted by having to start this write-up of the night. Why is it that, as soon as I sit down to get some actual work done, I have to confound and prolong the whole experience by doing blog-writing at the same time. This is indeed a desperate act of procrastination. If I fail this essay then I will blame you, readers.

And you will willingly accept the guilt, because you know this is your fault. Don’t say you don’t.

Because you do.

Also, I’ve decided that my audio-scape for the evenings work will be modern remixes from 16-bit Sonic games. If you’d like to experience my evening right now then listen to this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_0EosqWrTX4&feature=related

And then stare at a blank white page whilst refreshing facebook every four minutes.

I just realised that the word count for this document has far exceeded the word-count for my essay. I think the small pang I just felt was self-loathing mixed with guilt.

1:20: It’s been an hour of reading over past essays. I read a comment from one of my creative writing tutors where I was complimented on ‘finding the power of being sincere with yourself’. Would someone remind me of that line in the future? Sounds like an ideal concept for an animated kid’s movie.

Also, I have to stop every ten minutes to look at my style sheet to figure out citations. Maybe I should have learnt how to do this by now. Or maybe the internet should have coded a citation generator dammit.

2:10: The word count is 600 words. That’s around ¼ of the essay done, and I’ve actually got a lot to talk about. I think I’ll probably just rush out everything as soon as possible and then trim all the superfluous crap out in editing. Most of the last hour was spent trawling through online articles trying to find a few quotes to throw in to validate one of my points. In the end I found something that sort of works. As soon as I had that I managed to jot down 200 words in a few minutes, although it’s not as concise as I’d like it to be. Tiredness is now setting in, but indigestion deems I don’t have another coffee just yet.

3:30: I can’t really remember the last hour. There was some serious fighting with a critical idea that took awhile to implement in the first paragraph, but it’s in there now, and it’s bloody staying there. I’ve gotten 1,000 words done, which is less than I’d hoped for, but more than I’d expected. They say the first step of every journey is the hardest. I know roughly where I’m going with the thing now, so with 1,500 words left to write, I should be able to do that tomorrow. However, before that work can get done, I have to wake up early and do all sorts of jobs. Effort…

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