Hot Fuzz

Fabulous. The team behind the brilliant Shaun of the Dead have only gone and made a cop movie.

I see my career flashing before my eyes - quite literally. I like to think I'd be more like Simon Pegg's character (the blonde one), however I worry I'll end up more like Nick Frosts' (the dark-haired one).

Spam

I use Hotmail pretty much most of the time these days. I've gotten fed up changing E-Mail addresses over time, and besides it gets a little tricky for friends & family to keep up after a while. However, I do have one old E-Mail address (I used for a while) that's still ticking over, and I keep checking it periodically to make sure that nothing important has somehow arrived in the Inbox there. All it really seems to do though is catch spam/junkmail like some great big electronic fly-paper.

Have you ever actually stopped, before you've hit [delete], and glanced at the contents of some of these random emails? Most offer loans, porn, degrees and diamonds, and I realise everything down to the content and the email address are randomly generated by computers, but some are like such surreal little works.

This was my favourite today:

"Sent: Mon 27/11/2006 11:29
From: Cody Holliday [CodyHolliday@greatintltravel.com]
To: ing
Subject: one-night stand oil tanker

agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister's feelings and consequence, that she should be noticed on and even before two words have been exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she"

Worth reprinting for the title alone.

Come and rest your bones with me

Had a real tiredness attack last night for no apparent reason and turned in at 22:00. Indeed, quite the Saturday night. With the clocks going back this meant a good 11-hours of uninterrupted sleep, straight through. And dreams. Deep and exceedingly strange ones. Interpret this, anyone - At one point I was aboard the International Space Station. Floating away, just enjoying being weightless. A woman was there too, the inevitable had happened. *ahem*, anyway... The view out the window was of course the Earth, but at an altitude of only several hundred meters. Serene and perfectly silent and still. Huh?

Really must rave on about Bent's new album at the moment. Had moments in Berlin where I was strolling around with it on my MP3 player; the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and the whole city at once seemed transformed. Ah, the power of music. Screw the charts, way down the numbers is where you find the best stuff.

With that in the background, I read for a while. Currently reading 'Carrie' by Stephen King. Was relating to a friend of mine the other day that I find if difficult to read anything 'deep' at the moment, what with the Police info-dump drowning my poor little brain. I just need a good absorbing page-turner. Plus, it reads well now with the seasonal shift.

Spent all morning doing housework (yes ladies I am fully house-trained), shredding old documents and watching the end of Syriana (I had to give up last night - I was falling asleep, not because it wasn't good, but because of said tiredness attack).

Shock-horror it's actually a nice mild autumn day and the washing is almost dry. Wow.

Bombs

'Bombs' by Faithless

Great new track & provocative video from their forthcoming new album. People think that 'intelligent dance music' is an oxymoron, but I beg to differ.

Faith in the system

I realise this is a real powder-keg of a topic, but I felt quite shocked upon reading the article this evening. Should the awful experience of some cases, and some victims, blur the view of others so completely? I realise to that as a male, and a police officer, I cannot really view this topic objectively. However, god forbid should such a terrifying and humiliating experience ever happen to said author in the future, I wonder if she really would reconsider her position? I find her views in the final paragraph deeply disturbing indeed.

Picture this

Phew, took long enough uploading, tweaking and annotating... But the Berlin pics are now online at my Yahoo! photos site.

I'm ready... Ready for what's next...

Until later this week/next when I get the best of the pics uploaded & captioned on my Yahoo! site, here's another for your perusal. I love the way the globe on the TV tower reflects the sun in the shape of a cross. Now there's symmetry for you.

Subtle reference to...

Berlin Dispatch #2

More random exerpts from my travel journal:

"Remember; leave journal and Lonely Planet highly visible on table to advertise that I am merely a hungry traveller and not that sad that I make a habit out of lone dining..."

"Spent a while contemplating the stark reliefs of the Holocaust Monument and some visitors' complete and staggering lack of decorum. It's a memorial to over six million dead - not a playground."

"Would have had a bite to eat there, but the prices seemed almost double anywhere else, and besides the opportunity to grab a Bison burger from this Canadian Deli I'd seen earlier seemed too good to miss. I mean, hey, when in Berlin..."

"Finally figured out Berlin's transit system. Forget anything you know from London. Virtually ignore colours and numbers for that matter, all you need to know is the terminus and all importantly whether it's an 'S' or a 'U'. Really, it's that simple it took me days to grasp."

"Kaiser-Wilhelm Gedachtniskirche. Try saying that after a few drinks."

"I thought, to be honest, that she was meeting up with me for dinner meerly to be polite. However, this clearly wasn't the case. The body language, the sparkling eyes and the fact that she actually seemed to be listening to me, and not just hearing, made for a wonderful evening. See, this is my problem though, I meet women hundreds, even thousands of miles away from home when I'm relaxed and actually at ease with myself. Never at home, when I'm probably too tightly coiled to notice anyone who dares notice me."

"Potsdam, like Berlin, was somewhat underwhelming on first impressions. However, at the end of a gorgeous clear blue day, having explored the old town and the stunning Schloss and gardens, the spell had indeed been cast."

"...Felt that was plenty of time, but of course Sod's Law meant that anything that could slow the journey to the airport down, probably would. So 3 U-Bahn changes, a bus transfer and several unnervingly stationary trains later I made it to check in with some 15 minutes to spare."

"Clouds freckle the landscape below and a haze threatens to blanket the gorgeous checkwork-pattern that is Western Europe from 37,000ft."

[This was uploaded at home. Back now. Bugger... Anyway, more pics to follow later in the week...]

Berlin Dispatch

Quick few exerpts from my travel journal scribbled thus far...

"Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be British... Like observing how we queue so enthusiasticlally for almost anything. We'd queue in an orderly fashion for Armageddon if someone asked politely. But then I see sights like this - flying out over the Thames Estuary on a clear bright day; England just slipped away into the sea like some glittering jewel. Simply stunning."

"This may or may not be a German Starbucks, I'm not quite sure. It's bang in the centre of Potsdamer Platz and the faux-ambiance is tuned to the right level of cheesy, so chance are..."

"To be honest it was less of a firework display and more of a laser-light show. This being Berlin they started blasting dance music out over the PA to the massed crowds, turning it essentially into one big rave-up. I mean, all we needed were some glowsticks and a little more room to start throwing shapes..."

"I may or may-not have a date for Friday. Sort-of. Problem is, it's been so long I've kind forgotten what they are."

"Didn't get going until late and in my infinite wisdom bought a travel pass for the U-Bahn. Daft idea and a waste of money really - seeing that when I travel solo I more-often-than-not end up walking the ass off any city I find myself in."

"Great to be met by someone at Arrivals for a change [old family freind] - it sometimes gets a little depressing wading through the sea of smiling faces when you know you're arriving somewhere alone."

From Luton To Berlin...

...In every disco I get in....

*ahem*

Right, I'm off for a week.

And not a moment too soon.

Be good.

Mercy

In these volatile times, this is a remarkable gesture.

Do Your Thing

Loving YouTube right now.

This song totally reminds me of last night - and I never realised it had such a great video!




'Do Your Thing' by Basement Jaxx

Release

Hooked up with some work colleagues and what I thought was going to be fairly average night yesterday. Assumed it would just be making polite conversation with people who I wasn't really sure that I had much in common with, but to my delight it turned into a really funky affair; deep into the night. Plenty of conversations about the course and the people from every conceivable angle threw up the realisation that half of the stuff I was worrying about - everyone else was too, and I wasn't the only person who was very aware that a certain clique had formed and was working against much of the camaraderie generated over our ten weeks together. All the usual suspects weren't out drinking, meaning some of us quieter-types got a chance to actually get a word in edgeways and shine. Didn't pull, hadn't set out to, but dangerously walked the line for a while with a colleague whilst their partner was otherwise engaged. Not one of my brighter ideas.

Anyway, it's the first time in a while that I've really let go since I've been down here. Forgotten. Unwound. I just wish I could stabilise my frame of mind though; these peaks and troughs aren't allowing me to settle in any sense of the word.

Ten weeks had brought us a long way (baby), but all of us have been gasping for air. One week off, and then it's another ten, with the pressure ratcheted up a notch.

Before I go. My hair. I'm fed up with it. It's short, mousy and far too fine and light to do anything with. I mean believe you me, I've tried gels, waxes and everything but I can't give it the volume or hold required. I'm seriously considering shaving it really close in the coming months. Is this another one of my not so bright ideas? I have at least two scars on my head and I hope woudn't look like some complete thug should I go through with it. I suppose at least if it looks completely ridiculous, it grows back. In theory. Hmmm.... Anyway, just a thought. Opinions please.

Other than that; t-minus 48 hours. Right, where's my rucksack?

Duck!

You may have seen this on the news already, but this is the slightly longer version with the amusing banter beforehand...

The journey, not the destination

One of my favourite childhood memories was that of taking the ferry across the North Sea to Sweden. Each summer our family would take the car over on one of the DFDS ferries from Newcastle or Harwich, in England, to Gothenburg in Sweden, a sailing of some 26 hours.

Only the other day I heard a journalist remark that people today seem to travel in time, rather than distance. Thinking about it now, a journey that takes 26 hours by ship is now flown by most in under 2.

Citing the usual depressingly familiar cost-cutting excuses of 'high fuel prices' and 'competition from low-cost airlines', I heard with great disappointment from my father this evening that DFDS have closed the England-Sweden ferry routes.

I know for a fact that this news won't even bat an eyelid with any of you, and I wouldn't even expect it to, yet upon hearing the news this evening I was absolutely gutted.

I spent countless carefree summers as a child visiting my relatives in Sweden, and one of the most enjoyable parts of those holidays was always the ferry journey itself. Boarding, finding the cabin and exploring the ship. Pulling away from the port, waving at strangers on the quayside, heading out to sea and watching the land grow ever smaller until the sky merged with the sea. The rhythmic pulsing of the engines, the gentle roll of the boat in high seas, the fresh clean air and wind upon my face when up on deck. Oil rigs twinkling in the darkness, way past my bedtime, and getting lost in the endless corridors of what at the time seemed like the largest vessel in the world to my little feet. Simple experiences I know, but to me these seemed like an incredible adventure.

The most magical part of the journey would always be the final few hours before we docked in Gothenburg; sailing up the Danish coast, rounding the tip of Denmark and the slow, precise navigation through the archipelago of islands on final approach into the port of Gothenburg. We'd stand up on deck on this mighty ship, sailing past the countless small rocky islands, some no larger than the houses that were built rather precariously upon them. Looking down into the water I'd see Jellyfish drift past; it always used to confuse me them being this far north, until my dad told me about the Gulf Stream... The memories roll on.

I know these things aren't lost forever; but that cohesive experience I will never be able to repeat or relive now, which came as an unexpected, crushing shame. I'd always hoped to take the ferry over again one day. It's like someone just stole a part of my childhood. I'd sort-of always expected it to be there, forevermore.

I'm taking to the skies again soon, in less than a week. But I need to learn to slow down, and take the scenic route once in a while. To enjoy the journey, not just the destination. The world can look beautiful from high above, but often it's even more so down there in the detail, and at a pace at which it can be truly appreciated.

Bits of kit

I've exhausted myself with moping, so here's something interesting to read for a change. Or not as the case my be, but indulge me anyway.




What you see in the picture is my utility belt and component bits of kit; what I'm now trained to use and can have at my disposal when we venture out into the big scary world on exercise or other duty. From left to right - autolock baton (extendable & nasty), small medical kit pouch, large 'miscellaneous' pouch, CS incapacitant spray (well, the holster at least, CS itself does not get issued until I actually go operational) and the rigid handcuffs (don't get too excited). Bit disappointed they didn't issue a Batarang, but nevermind.

Here's an interesting point though - at least three bits of kits on there are non-issue, namely, the bulbous baton-handle, the baton-holster and bungee-cord CS-holster. What we do get issued by the force 'does the job', but every second officer you meet strongly suggests you buy better bits of kit that frankly do the job better. Naturally most officers also tend to agree that it's astounding we don't necessarily get the best kit in the first place. "Well, isn't that the case in most jobs?" some ask "As in the better kit costs more?" Yes, but this job is a little more crucial than selling timeshares, c'mon now.

That's also my bedspread in the picture. Feel honoured.

Today the planned training schedule went out the window. We were ordered to take part in a inter-agency training exercise at a local military base. An interesting experience to see & hear the divisional chain of command working at all levels and actually enacting orders physically on the ground - namely stopping traffic and asking a few questions. It's amazing how cooperative people are when you put on your high-vis uniform and stand in the road firmly asking them to stop. There. Right there. Now. (Thank you sir/madam). Anyways can't say much more on that... Need to know & all that.

I'm an idiot, get me out of here

I have a week's off, next week (w/c 16th). So there's less than a week to sort things out, but lastminuting is half the fun. I did have one idea of where to go, but since that imploded so I'm praying that plan b won't do the same.

I really, really need a break.

Thought I was happy, springy & life was all groovy once more, but a flat weekend suffocated that mercilessly. So here we going sliding into another bout of depression.

Section me now.

I mean, I'm going to be policing your streets soon for crying out loud.

It's not just that work's tiring me out, that unsurprisingly is the case, but the fact that I'm fed up of being tired and lonely down here. Work just... Is. It's really starting to feel like there's little else to wake up for in the morning. I'm happy at work because... I'm busy. It's something to do. Outside of that? Bugger all going on. Television, books, making dinner, watching the wildlife in the garden and then coming on here and depressing the hell out of any reader. I mean, today was a fucking riot. Mowing the lawn, hoovering, ironing and I thought I'd pick myself up with an exceedingly cheerful movie (don't ask).

Anyone that gives a shit is at least sixty miles distant. I know that's like a blink to some of you, it's more of a metaphorical chasm I guess, but still. Fancy going for a pint? Oh fuckit, I forget it's 90mins drive to where you are.

On one level I'm doing fine, on another I feel I made a grave mistake - not with the job, but the location. It seemed a good idea at the time. But I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it, there's nothing else I can do for another two years. Peversely, I really looking forward to strange hours in the new year, keeping out of everybody's way (save for the complete idiot's who I have to bring in) and immersing myself in everyone else's problems out there, so I won't have to deal with my own.

Hopefully this time next week I'm be packing to go somewhere. If it's where I hope to go; a least one person knows my name there, maybe two if I'm lucky and they're in town. One of them is a very good listener, and I really hope I don't abuse that too much.

Travelling, if nothing else, always feels natural. Ironic that I often feel quite at home, hundreds of miles away...

Hidden Pleasures

Pottering about in town doing the usual Saturday stuff; getting the essentials, dodging mothers wielding buggies like chariots out of Ben Hur and picking up the paper from the newsagent down the road.

So I'm in a charity shop browsing through the second-hand books and casually ask one of the assistants if there's any other charity shops in town that might have a good range of books.
He in fact gives me directions to a second-hand store that I must have gone past umpteen times on my evening jogs around town. Looked scruffy and assuming from the outside, perhaps that's my it hadn't really caught my eye.

Anyway, find said place and end up spending over 3/4 hour in there! Could have easily become a whole afternoon. Fabulous shop. Run by a chain smoking grumpy old bugger straight out of Black Books and what I presumed to be his partner, a dead ringer for Marsha from Spaced - also surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke and hunched on the stairs apparently mesmerised by a sudoku puzzle. He was especially amused when I let slip that I used to work for the enemy (Waterstone's).

Books all over the place. Piles on tables, on the floor, obscuring the till...

"There's the shed out back as well if you want to have a browse out there..."

"Oh?"

Walk out the back alleyway and open to door to said shed. Flick the lights on and illuminate a cavernous room full of even more books; like a cross between The Tardis and one of those big secret warehouses that you used to see in The X-Files.

Actually only came out with one book

Endurance by Alfred Lansing

as I got a sort of book-snowblindness after a while.

Just goes to show what you can find on your doorstep if you open your eyes.

Bring it on! (gently)

I got a record card yesterday confirming I had successfully completed my Officer Safety Training.

Self Defence [X]

Rigid Handcuff [X]

Straight Baton (Autolock) [X]

Incapacitant Spray [X]

A few more vital ticks in the box then. The overwhelming majority of the public will come quietly, so I'm told, sod's law dictates I'll walk straight into that 5%.

I was describing to someone the other day, now with all the law input, I'm starting to get the picture that is this particular jigsaw puzzle.

Get a move on

'Get a move on' by Mr Scruff.

Love this track, love the animation... And, well, it just neatly sums things up right now. Even down to the startled-looking animated copper.

Now *that's* a blog

Anousheh Ansari

There's not enough hours in the day

I didn't expect my birthday to put the wind back in my sails to be honest. Okay, I'd sailed into another set of doldrums of my own making, but considering the amount of new and quite alien experience I'm having thrown at me of late, in a new and strange place with new and strange (but overall nice) people, I think I'm entitled to have a regular cyclical bout of minor depression every so often.

As you can tell I'd kinda tried to fly the birthday under the radar somewhat, but still felt compelled to mark it on here, however un-cryptically.

*sigh* I Dunno...

I'm 29, but I in no way do I feel 29, nor apparently do I look 29 (hurrah!). And, I'm quite happy to stay 29 for the foreseeable future thank-you-very-much. Next comes three-zero. I'm told thirties are the new twenties, forties the new thirties, but still it still seems like a slippery slope to me. The death of my youth anyway.

It was probably the contact with friends, old and new back up north, as well as the warmth of family that gave me a little shove back in the right direction. Realised for umpteenth time, after forgetting it;

"Perhaps, I can do this..."

The weekend back up north was great, caught up with old workmates - realised how much I'd changed, and how much I don't miss the place (though I do miss them, and the 33% discount on books). Also saw the mighty Tigers draw 1-1 with Crystal Palace at the KC Stadium. 18,000 people screaming their heads off can lift anyone actually.

Sunday I met up with friends, perused the Beverley Food Festival (organised by my good friend Matt it turns out, for which he can be immensely proud) and then hung out with two girl-friends of mine who as well providing great company were also a great source of amusement. See, they were getting progressively slammed as the afternoon went on, I had to stay sober as a judge seeing that I was driving back down to here. We've already vowed to do that again soon on a future Saturday back north when I can join in and drink my head off.

Also, just when I was beginning to get a little cynical of my course mates and a few little cliques forming, they've gone an organised a big meal for everyone on Wednesday at a local gastropub. Plus many texted me Sunday as well, so surprisingly more people seem to give a damn than I dared think.

Otherwise the fact that I'm being kept so busy down here now is probably a good thing too now; gives me less time to think and dwell. Evenings are fast being eroded by runs, dinner and studying so that I actually have to schedule myself an hour of TV just to break the night up.

Which reminds me, Spooks is about to start, eek!

It was twenty-nine years ago today...

(WIth apologies to The Beatles)