Book Tag

Another week; another set of questions from Sunday Stealing.

This time its all about books – an interesting subject that I don’t usually cover that often. I guess there is always a first time.

Let’s dive in shall we?

Who is your favourite author?

That’s a tricky one because I like and have liked lots of authors. Here are a few.

Stephen King, Iain M. Banks, Dean Koontz, Dan Simmons, Robert Ludlum, James Herbert, Stephen Baxter, Peter F. Hamilton, H.G.Wells, Bill Bryson, Bryan Lumley and many more.

Generally if I really like a book I will look for others by the same author.

What was the last book you read?

The last novel I read was “Dust” by Hugh Howey, the third novel in a science-fiction trilogy set in a dystopian future.

The last non-fiction book I read was “How To Be Right … In A World Gone Wrong” by broadcaster James O’Brien. If you want to try to understand why the world is turning to shit and how to trap people into thinking about their horrific views based on spoonfed lies, this is the book for you.

What book reminds you of your school days?

“The Invisible Man” by H.G.Wells.

I hated English Literature because we were forced to read classic drivel and then write critical essays on them. For example, I was forced to read “The Mayor of Casterbridge” by Thomas Hardy, a novel written in 1886 that  was as boring as hell.

Worse, I had to suffer Shakespeare – plays written in a form of English that was routinely spoken in the pubs and palaces in 16th century England but means nothing today at all. Reading Shakespeare is like reading a book in your second language – except the plays are utter claptrap.

If you have read this blog before you will know my thoughts on Shakespeare so I won’t rant too much about him.

The one blessing for my English Literature O-Level exam was that we could select a couple of books to write essays about and I chose “The Invisible Man” – a classic novel by an amazing author.

I had such fun with that book.

What book releases are you looking forward to?

Nothing in particular. Stephen Baxter has written the official sequel to “War of the Worlds” called “The Massacre of Mankind” but that has been out for a year or two. I intend to read it soon – so I shall say that.

What movie releases are you looking forward to?

I love superhero movies and sci-fi so here are a couple due for release soon.

Joker

Godzilla versus Kong

Wonder Woman 1984

There will be other that are less sci-fi and superhero of course but I will judge them when I see the trailers.

What 3 books are you planning to read?

As mentioned above, I am planning to read “The Massacre of Mankind” by Stephen Baxter.

I also enjoyed “Sapiens” by Yuval Noah Harari so I plan to read the follow up, “Homo Deus”.

Nothing else leaps to mind so I shall probably go for a trashy sci-fi novel after my current book.

Have you ever damaged a book?

Not only have I damaged a book – I have damaged a human being with a book.

When on holiday once, I dropped my current novel into the swimming pool. I tried to dry it out but it was ruined.

The poor human being was a passenger on an aircraft. He was sitting in the aisle seat and, as usual, I walked up and pointed to the middle seat and said “I’m there!”. As he unbuckled his seat belt to let me through, I decided to throw my 1000 page paperback science fiction space opera onto the seat. I somehow missed and hurled it straight into the poor man’s face, cutting the bridge of his nose.

Thankfully, it was only a minor cut and he accepted that “accidents happen” as he tried to stop the  bleeding. I was so apologetic and apologised so much that he ended up more angry with my apologies than being socked in the face with a heavy book.

Worse still, it was a long haul flight to Beijing so I had to sit next to him for over 12 hours.

I have rarely been so embarrassed and angry with myself.

How long does it take you to read a book?

It depends on the length of the book, how much I am enjoying it, or whether I am on holiday or not.

Books you haven’t finished?

Only one – and it was so bad that I can’t recall the author or the title. By the time I finally threw it away (yes it was THAT BAD), I didn’t give a hoot about whether the characters lived or died. The only thing I cared about was whether the author was going to write another book and inflict the same pain on other people.

Popular books you didn’t like?

As I said above, anything by Shakespeare. When people sing the praises of his plays, I immediately think of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”. I don’t understand the appeal – at all!!

Is there a book you wouldn’t tell people you were reading?

Yes – any self-help books. I have read a couple out of interest and actually found them quite useful. But if you admit to reading a self-help book and you are a bloke in the UK, you will be ribbed mercilessly by your mates.

How many books do you own?

I have owned hundreds but have been accused of being a hoarder by Mrs PM. So I have given them away to charity shops – but only if they are fiction books. This is one of the reasons why I have forgotten a lot of the books I have read.

I keep all of my non-fiction books.

Now I have a Kindle, I can keep as many as I want.

Are you a fast or slow reader?

I think I am pretty quick.

Do you read better in your head or out loud?

It would annoy Mrs PM immensely if I read out loud. Therefore I read better in my head – just like everybody else.

Weird Books

I’ve always wanted to write a book - a novel, a travelogue or something that is loosely based on the inane crap you are reading at this moment. If I manage to get something published, one of the first things I will have to do is give it a title. You can rest assured that it will be decent title, an appropriate title or a vaguely amusing title. It certainly won’t be in any way weird, inappropriate or even offensive.

Yet some people have actually written either books with strange titles or with wholly unsuitable, politically incorrect or just plain bizarre titles. Worse, the contents of the books, I imagine are equally tasteless and improper.

I thought it would be amusing to share some of the books I have found on the internet with you.

How Green Were the Nazis?

Adolf Hitler plunged the world into war, destroyed half of Europe and committed genocide on a scale that will cause tremors of horror for years to come. He is the most hated man in history. But, hey – I’m sure he loved his plants and when he ordered his marauding armies across Europe, I’m sure that he avoided destroying forests as they killed innocent people. I wouldn’t know – I haven’t read the book.

How To Survive a Garden Gnome Attack

There’s a house down the street that had a single gnome in their garden just five years ago. Now there are over thirty of the little buggers. They are massing for attack, I tell you. I’ve been down to the house and put notes through their letterbox warning them about this. Surely they know that gnomes are a war-like species that hate humanity and breed like rabbits. I’ve never seen the owners of the house. Maybe they are giant gnomes. Unfortunately I don’t know what to do if they decide to rise up and invade. I haven’t read the book. 

Old Tractors and the Men Who Love Them

If the gnomes do attack then a tractor might be a good weapon to crush the little blighters underfoot. Therefore if you have an old tractor, it is best to make sure that it is in perfect working order and to do so you need to find an old tractor enthusiast to help you. It might just save your life. How? I don’t know – I haven’t read the book. 

Learning To Play With a Lion’s Testicles: Unexpected Gifts from the Animals of Africa

Let me just say this: there are no creatures on God’s earth who own testicles that I would like to touch let alone play with. If I were so inclined (and I am not – I AM DEFINITELY NOT), then a lion would be WAAAAYYYYY down the list of animals whose plums I would want to fondle. Imagine the gravestone? “Here Lies A. Nutter. Savaged By An 800lb Lion For Groping His Balls”. It makes me wonder whether there is a way to sneak up on a giant man-killing cat. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t read the book.

Does God Ever Speak Through Cats? 

If my cats are anything to go by, the answer to this question is easy – NO! My cats treat me with no respect – unless they want food. If indeed God really is speaking to me through my cats then he is telling me that I am a slave, an oaf, a huge scary mad-haired ape, the source of all his food and an insignificant moron. I would guess that one thing a cat may say is "Do not ever ever EVER play with my testicles." Did the author include this? I don't know - I haven’t read the book.

My Darling My Hamburger

You would be forgiven for thinking that this is the story of a pervert who is in love with a Big Mac. Apparently it’s just a love story for young adults – although my mind is boggling about where the hamburger comes into the tale. My mind is boggling about the concept of “playing with your food” in this context. But I wouldn’t know – I haven’t read the book.

Natural Bust Enlargement With Total Mind Power

I now have a black eye because of this book. Why? I asked Mrs PM to buy this to see if it really worked. It was a simple enough question and her response was a violent punch in the face. I feel like writing to the author, suggesting that he writes another book called “How To Get a Black Eye With Autosuggestion” using his previous book as a tool. Mrs PM now thinks the remaining 90% of my mind is a cesspit of pure filth. Is this true and does the author warn against such speculation? I wouldn’t know – I haven’t read the book.

Teach Your Wife To Be A Widow

Given that I was lucky only to get a minor injury from the last book, perhaps I should have suggested this book to Mrs PM instead. Mind you, she probably knows – especially since the moment before her spontaneous and unexpected moment of extreme violence, I received a factor 8 look (if you don’t know what I am talking about, read this). I think she knows how to be a widow already. I don’t – I haven’t read the book.

Reusing Old Graves

Call me mad but when I finally do shuffle off this mortal coil I don’t want to share my final resting place with anybody else - apart from Mrs PM of course. If ghosts do exist then the previous occupant of an old grave would be totally angry if he or she suddenly had a squatter hanging around after decades of solitary bliss. Perhaps the sequel to this book would be “How To Deal With Grave Squatters” or “How To Share a House With Somebody Who Died In The 19th Century”.  Does the author even consider the possibility of forcing a grumpy old bastard like me into their afterlife? I don’t know – I haven’t read the book.

What’s Your Poo Telling You?

Call me weird if you like but if I had just answered a call of nature and I heard a gurgling voice from beneath me saying “You shouldn’t have had that chicken madras last night” then I would be out of that bathroom like a rocket. Worse, this is another book title that is likely to lead to violence. Imagine walking up to a woman in a bar and saying: “Hi! My name’s Dave. What’s your poo telling you?” I wonder whether the book mentions the risk of being beaten up? I don’t know – I haven’t read the book.

And finally…

Rest assured, dear reader, that when I finally pull my finger out and write a book, the title will be not be as bat-shit crazy as the ten above. 

Actually, that might not be a bad title: Pull Your Finger Out. 

What do you think?

Stop Feeling Guilty

Today I’m going to talk about a subject that really irks me and has made me rant a lot over the years.

The idea comes from a comedian called Dave Gorman, a very funny and clever man. On his latest show, called “Modern Life Is Goodish”, he discusses the term "guilty pleasure”, used by just about everybody, myself included, to describe something that you really like but that you feel guilty about. In fact, I have written a couple of posts about my own musical guilty pleasures that took some doing because, in it, I mentioned songs that I felt embarrassed about. These songs are in my musical collection and I love them, despite people laughing at me or deriding me because of them.

I’ve also discussed the pseudo-intellectual, a person who mocks people like me for not appreciating high-brow items across a variety of disciplines. These people utter complete bullshit and show faux-emotion with feigned enthusiasm about their subject matter, dismissing normal everyday folks for being too thick to appreciate where they are coming from.

There are lots of examples.

Imagine a conversation between such a person (PS) and myself.

PS: I’m currently reading “Dystopian Attitudes To Philosophy” by the renowned philosopher Archibald St-John-Smythe, a professor of applied philosophy at Oxford University. It was reviewed very positively in The Sunday Times last week by the acclaimed critic Theodore Rymplethrope. It is a fascinated read. What are you currently reading?

PM: I’m reading “Alien Immortal”, a science fiction novel by Dirk Prawn. It’s not well known and is about an alien invasion in the near future just when …

PS: Let me stop you right there. That’s your guilty pleasure. It has to be because otherwise you would be ashamed to admit to reading cheap nonsense like that! You need to challenge yourself cerebrally and a cheesy sci-fi novel is no way to do that!

PM: Pardon?

PS: St-John-Smythe discusses the possibility of the existence of an alternative reality, where we are canine beings being held captive as pets by super-intelligent felines and the relevance of this alternate concept to the thought paradigms … Where are you going?

PM: To read my cheesy science fiction book. It’s more interesting than talking to you.

Do you see what I mean? There are certain people who deem themselves to be far superior to the likes of me who say that I should be utterly ashamed about my choice of book, movie or music, my hobbies, the art I like to look at and my lifestyle choices.

If it has not been positively reviewed by a well-respected critic in a high brow newspaper then it is simply a guilty pleasure that you should feel ashamed about admitting to loving.

These are the kind of people who will read anything by Salman Rushdie and criticise those of who don’t as beneath molluscs on the evolutionary scale. They try to make me feel guilty about reading a cheesy horror story over a book that is critically acclaimed by a famous book critic.

I started a Salman Rushdie book once then put it down - it was absolutely dreadful.

These people try to make me feel guilty about choosing to watch a Superhero movie over an Oscar-winning snooze-fest.

They try to make me feel guilty about choosing to watch The Big Bang Theory over a documentary about the evolution of contemporary art in Western Europe in the 20th century.

They simply cannot understand why I would choose to buy a progressive metal CD instead of a critically acclaimed CD by a singer-songwriter that gets a five star review in a high brow newspaper and is advertised on television as “the greatest album you will hear this year”.

I say this; never ever answer the question “what is your guilty pleasure?” with anything other than:

“I don’t have any guilty pleasures!”

The truth is they are simply “pleasures” and there is absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.

Why should you feel guilty?

Is it possibly because you are effectively admitting to being guilty of dumbing down and are too ashamed to admit that you are an avid fan of the latest soap opera and much prefer it to a critically acclaimed series about how opera music changed the style of classic music in the last two hundred years?

It is nobody’s business but my own whether I choose to “dumb down” and watch tacky television.

I like what I like and I don’t care whether it is considered stupid, immature or dreadful by the pseudo-intellectual or those who think they are superior in some way to us all.

By way of research, I just asked Mr Google to tell me about “guilty pleasures” and one of the first things I found was an article with the title “Celebrity Guilty Pleasures Prove Stars Are Just Like Us!”

How dare they? How bloody DARE they imply that so-called celebrities are somehow above the rest of us. It’s almost as if the tabloids and newspapers are implying that in order to evolve, you need to become famous. And when you are famous, the way you connect with the plebeian class (i.e. the rest of us) is by letting your guard down and admitting that you have guilty pleasures in common with them.

One of the so-called celebrities actually surprised me with his answer to the question. It was Russell Brand. He said:

 “I don’t have guilty pleasures. If something gives you pleasure, don’t feel guilty about it as long as you’re not harming anybody else!”

I totally agree with that.

To summarise, dear reader, my message to you is this:

Stop feeling guilty!

Stress Relief

Over the years I have been a victim of stress sometimes and while I still occasionally confront the demon stress-monster, these days I can usually vanquish him with casual and relaxing punch in the face.

Most of my stress comes from my job, something I think is true the world over. It amazes me that we as a society can allow ourselves to wind ourselves up at work to the point where it actually causes physical symptoms. You often feel like you really have been in a fight with a monster.

Something like this happened to me about seventeen years ago and I vowed that I would declare war on the beast that threatens to destabilize my life. These days we spar intermittently with me almost always coming out on top.

I have a few techniques that work for me to deal with stress. Some are obvious, others may seem rather unorthodox. They work for me and usually manage to keep me in control of the demonic beast at both a professional and a personal level. Here they are:

Hypnosis

Before you slap a label on me as a crackpot, let me explain. In a previous post, I started out attacking hypnotism as a mystical load of old bollocks for gullible people. That is until I tried it, in the name of research. 

You can read about it here.

What I discovered was that if you lie back in a darkened room and listen to a hypnosis tape for a while, you actually do start to de-stress. I would never pay money to go for hypnotherapy and on a couple of occasions I have tried it to relax with a lot of success. Try it - YouTube is full of them.

I am still sceptical about it – particularly when people start talking about past life regression and nonsense like that. I can’t imagine for a second that I have lived before, let alone suddenly find that under a hypnotic trance that I weirdly have access to these past lives. That is plain ridiculous.

Beer With Friends

Some foreigners may think that the British tradition of sitting in a pub with friends and/or family at the end of a hard work is a bit strange. The truth is that there is no better way of unwinding with good company, good ale and a bellyful of laughs. The stress monster is never invited to such shindigs.

Listen To Chill Out Music

Music is very therapeutic and it is a very important part of my life. There are numerous songs in my collection that are gentle, peaceful and soothing and usually invoke a special memory like lying on a beach in the sun with the waves kissing the beach and Mrs PM next to me as we sip a cold drink. 

Here is an example of a stress melter:

Playing With Cats

I have three cats, all of which have different personalities. They are getting on a bit at the moment yet I can entertain myself with each one of them, either gently stroking them, or baiting them with string, toy mice or my own hand (which is risky, particularly with the hellcat who has the capability and the will to induce more stress; having to go to hospital can be quite stressful itself).

Ask Yourself “What’s the worst that can happen?”

I am afraid of public speaking and the first time I had to really face my fear was when I was asked to travel to America to give a course. Beforehand, I spent about a month beating myself up about it to the point where I actually decided that I was going to just refuse to go. However, I am professional and I decided to take the bull by the horns and go for it. I asked myself “What is the worst that can happen?” and I answered my own question. Nothing, even the sack, would matter – I would bounce back even from that. In the end, I was nervous but I completed the course. And since then I have given courses in Russia, Switzerland, China and South Africa. I still hate it it but I don’t allow myself to get stressed about it.

Go for a Long Walk

My days are generally split into two when working. I endure the morning period and then at around 12:30, I pick up my iPod, leave the building and embark upon a walk of just over two miles with my music as a soundtrack. Not only does this get me away from my desk, it also allows me free thinking time where I can drift into my own imagination and even reignite my creativity. And of course, my mind wonders away from the pressure of work for half an hour or so.

Go on Holiday

Whenever work starts to grind me down, I look at my calendar and remind myself of my travel plans. Sadly, I don’t get enough holiday to travel anywhere near as much as I want to, which is frustrating but at the same time makes the trips I take very special. At the moment, I have two holidays to Europe booked and a weekend break next week in Barcelona. The stress is fading just thinking about it.

Play a Video Game

You may think that I am a little too old to indulge in childish pursuits such as playing games on a console. And the truth is that I am. Yet when I decide to pick up the joystick and play a football game or become a nightmarish villain in a surreal city or even fight zombies and monsters in a scary labyrinth, my imagination runs amok and once again I have a victory over worries and tension.

Read and Write

I may not be a good writer, but putting down my thoughts on paper is a fantastic way of winding down. Whenever I put myself at the mercy of my imagination, I usually have fun, even if it’s writing a simple blog post, a plan for one of the many books in my head or just my thoughts. Whether anybody reads my words is totally irrelevant – it’s great to just get them down.

Alternatively, there are few things more enjoyable than immersing yourself in a decent book. Stories are wonderful things and I always imagine myself as the constant companion of the heroes of the story, watching them as they struggle, lose and ultimately triumph (though not always). It’s a great way to forget about your own woes.

Listen to Hard and Heavy Rock Music

This may sound a bit weird, but when I allow myself to totally succumb to stress, which does happen, albeit infrequently these days, I simply blast away the negativity with a good dose of noise. It may seem wrong to unleash loud and heavy music when in a mood like that but for me at least it totally works. At the end of a heavy tune I feel a lot better – something like this:



R.I.P Lemmy

Spend Time With Family

Letting off steam to Mrs PM and family generally can be therapeutic because ultimately they will listen to you and offer words of encouragement. Of course, simply chilling out with family is equally good. There are few things I like better than spending time with Mrs PM and/or my two lads.

And Finally …

Over to you, dear reader.

How do you cope with stress?

What techniques have you for winding down and beating back the stress demon?

The Meaning of Life - What a Waste!

If Mrs PM had her way, she would clear our house of a lot of my stuff. To her, I am a hoarder and my stuff is surplus to requirements and therefore needless mess that should either be sold or thrown away.

We’ve discussed this and the bottom line is that it simply is not going to happen.

However, the difference between our philosophies on the subject of household clutter has got me thinking. Over the years, we all buy and collect lots of things, some of which we hang on to for years – in some cases most of our lives.

Take music for example.

I have a large collection of CDs but I also have quite a few old vinyl records. The problem is that I don’t have a record player and I don’t intend to actually get one either. My records are really my own family heirlooms.

I still have the very first single that I bought with my own cash, earned from my very first job as a newspaper delivery boy, purchased at the age of 13 years old. That single will never get played again, unless I sell it to a record collector.

When I see it, I see a piece of my own childhood. I am reminded of a spotty bespectacled blonde kid running all the way home from Walsall town centre back home full of enthusiasm and excitement. Nowadays, I buy CDs online and I feel that same buzz of excitement when I get home and find the parcel on the floor.

Every record and every CD is like a milestone in my life and I simply cannot part with them – just yet anyway.

It’s the same story with books, although sadly Mrs PM has had her way with those. I now only keep reference books. I’ve allowed Mrs PM to purge my paperbacks because they don’t really mean that much to me. Besides, I have a Kindle and can keep them all electronically.

Earlier this year, my mum moved from her house to a flat, mainly because she is getting a little frail and a big house is too much for her. Consequently my sisters and I had to have a big clear out for her.

It was amazing. She’s now 76 years old and she is definitely a hoarder – or should I say was a hoarder. As she’s got older I think she has started to care less about all the trinkets and keepsakes that have cluttered up her house.

My sisters wanted to be ruthless but I was the voice of reason and tried my best to check with mum what she wanted to do with things. I was surprised when she said “I don’t want that now. I’m surprised I still have it.”

She kept the things most dear to her and the rest was discarded. She now lives in a small clutter free flat and I swear there is a spark in her eye that has been reignited.

When I looked in my old room, I found lots of battered old books dating from the 1930’s and 1940’s that my grandad passed onto her. I remember devouring them as a kid and it was really weird reading them again. In fact, as a child, I had defaced a couple of them, scribbling in the corners. There were worthless and falling apart, yet a part of me wanted to bring them home to Manchester and put them in the loft.

Mrs PM would never have allowed that.

I also found a few old things of my own, including school books from my sixth form and notes my university course. I made an exception with those and chose to bring them home, where they now reside in a cupboard in the back room.

I may never use them again (they are so out of date) but they did spark great memories of that time back in the early 1980’s. In fact, when I look at the maths notes, it’s almost like they are written in a different language. There are pages and pages of handwritten formulae, theorems and their proofs, equations, derivations and graphs and I wonder now how I managed to get my brain to understand them.

I must have been very clever in my youth as an undergraduate. I’m certain that if I spent some time revisiting them I might well make sense out of them again. I have no plans to do that at the moment; it just reminds me of what a bright kid I was.

Mrs PM, on the other hand, is as intelligent if not more so than I am – but she disagrees with my need to keep my notes. To her they are rubbish and she has discarded hers and sold all of her university books with absolutely no remorse at all.

She’s happy with her choice but I think it’s sad.

One day I may think differently and change my mind, just like my mum has.

For now, I will bask in my stuff and enjoy it – even those embarrassing CDs I bought in the 1980s, containing songs like this:

I don’t care what you think – I love it.

How about you dear reader?

How many keepsakes do you have buried in yourjunk drawer or in your loft?

Are you a hoarder who can’t bear to part with things?

What worthless trinkets do you have that reignite your nostalgia?

Am I Cultured?

The Sunday Times is a huge British newspaper that is published every Sunday (obviously) and takes approximately a month to read. You need to have worked out at the gym for months to be able to carry the bloody thing home.

And when you get home you open it up and it consists of section upon section of news, business, sport, money, fashion and many other subjects.

One of those magazines is a newspaper in its own right called “Culture”.

I always try to read this magazine – mainly because it has details of what is on TV over the coming week. However, there is a lot more to it than just TV listings.

The “Culture” magazine has articles on the latest books, music, movies, art, ballet, opera – you name it, “Culture” probably covers it.

Nevertheless, the subjects are genuinely more high-brow – or “cultured” if you like.

Take the movie reviews, for example. You may have read my last post about movies, in which I sang the praises of superhero films, comedy films and action thrillers. Such movies barely get a mention in the Sunday Times; the reviewers opt to cover more cultured movies – for example Lincoln, a film I absolutely slated in my previous post.

And this leads me to ask the question – am I cultured? Or am I just a boorish philistine with shallow views who scoffs at profound and deep meaning in books, music and entertainment in general.

You might agree, if you are a regular reader. I have insulted opera, Shakespeare and modern art in this blog and I can imagine that a “cultured” individual, who loves opera and cries whenever he sees a rousing Shakespearean speech while appreciating a vomit stain on the walls of the Tate Gallery, might roll his eyes, shake his head and dismiss my, in his eyes, shallow views on such erudite art forms.

As far as films are concerned, I know what I like and to be honest I don’t really care whether people think I am a philistine for preferring movies that don’t bore me to sleep.

The same goes for books and music. Many years ago I was intrigued by the fact that Salman Rushdie had had to go into hiding because of a book he wrote. Somebody offered me the chance to read one of his novels, some years after that. It wasn’t The Satanic Verses, the book that got him into so much trouble. I can’t recall which one it was – I think I have blocked it from my memory.

Why? Because it was awful.

Now I am sure that people regard the books of Mr Rushdie as cultured but I hated my one and only foray into his imagination. The same can be said about other books that are meant to be magnificent works of art and “must reads”. I have tried a few and been completely bored with them.

Does this mean I am a philistine? Does the fact that I would rather read a Stephen King novel make me an uncultured barbarian when it comes to literary (so-called) masterpieces?

As regular readers know, I despise and detest contemporary art and the insipid pseudo-intellectual arguments like “it is breaking new ground” or “it’s not been done before” to justify an absolutely horrific load of shit masquerading as art hanging on the walls of a modern art museum. So-called cultured people fawn over these pieces of excrement describing them in the most colourful words and phrases that in reality mean absolutely nothing.

The fact that I do not believe the words they are using to try to describe what the artist was trying to achieve makes me, in their eyes, an uncivilized savage compared to them.

And what about music?

Such people love the fact that I listen to rock music and sing its praises because it confirms my standing as an uncouth monster that lacks any intelligence or taste.

Except I don’t lack intelligence at all and I love to prove this to pseudo-intellectuals whenever I get the opportunity.

In my view, progressive rock is the new classical music. Such music is technically brilliant and comes from the minds of geniuses. The instrumentation is perfect and the songs are mini symphonies. Take another genre I am currently enthralled by: symphonic rock. Artists such as Nightwish prove that orchestral music and heavy metal can be made to complement each other.

Here is an example which proves that what is essentially a heavy metal band can produce a wide range of musical styles, in this case an instrumental orchestral piece. Even if you hate heavy metal please press play – because this will surprise you and hopefully amaze you:

So am I cultured?

If being cultured means being a pseudo-intellectual making up bullshit about a pile of bricks in the middle of a room – then no!

If being cultured means buying and reading a book by an author who is vastly overrated and only gets reviews in the Sunday Times – then no!

If being cultured means pretending that I like a film like Lincoln because it won Oscars – then no!

If being cultured means not buying the music I love because “heavy metal” is the music of thugs and savages – then no!

If being cultured means raving about Shakespearean actors performing Hamlet in Stratford-upon-Avon – then no!

If being cultured means sipping an expensive wine instead of my favourite pint of bitter – then no!

I hate modern art; I prefer Stephen King novels to boring Sunday Times bestsellers; I love my no-brainer action movies and not boring Oscar winning nonsense; I buy the music I love whether it be heavy metal, pop music, progressive rock or classical symphonies;

And Shakespeare is STILL rubbish!

I personally think that culture is an individual quality. If you are happy with your opera, Shakespeare, Rushdie or even framed vomit-stains on a wall in a museum full of junk masquerading as art – then that’s fine by me. Just as long as you don't pretend to love them just to appear cultured.

I regard myself as cultured – and you are too (unless you are a pseudo-intellectual in which case you are a pretentious arse).

Do you agree, dear reader? 

Do you think I cultured or am I a philistine?

Do you think you are cultured? 

If not, why not?

A Book Meme

I found this book meme whilst travelling through cyberspace, so I thought I would have a go.

As usual, feel free to steal it if you want – I did.

1. Favourite childhood book?

I’m sad to say that when I was a kid I used to read a lot of Enid Blyton books. It’s hard to pick a favourite but the one I particularly recall is The Adventures of Mr Pink-Whistle, a strange creature that hates unfairness and strives to put things right; a weird version of The Equalizer, if you like.

2. What are you reading right now?

I’m currently reading my third Lee Child book, called Tripwire, featuring Jack Reacher, the ex-military policeman who drifts from crisis to crisis and uses a combination of investigative powers and brute violence to sort things out.

3. What books do you have on request at the library?

Sadly none. It’s been a couple of years since I last visited the library.

4. Bad book habit?

I don’t know whether this is a bad book habit or not, but I have to finish a book even if it is diabolically bad. And I’ve read some dreadful books I can tell you.

5. What do you currently have checked out at the library?

Nothing. See the answer to question 3.

6. Do you have an e-reader?

I have a Kindle which makes me a slave to Amazon.

7. Do you prefer to read one book at a time, or several at once?

I like to concentrate on one novel at a time but I have been known to read a couple of non-fiction books at the same time. As well as reading Tripwire (see question 2) I have The QI Book Of The Dead perched on my bathroom window sill for comfort reading while answering a call of nature.

8. Have your reading habits changed since starting a blog?

Not really. I have tried drifting into other genres but, like a moth to a flame, I am drawn back to my comfort zone.

9. Least favourite book you read this year (so far?)

I’ve enjoyed them all but arguably the worst is Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, the inspiration for Dexter the TV series. It is not a bad book at all and I really did enjoy it; the rest were just  better.

10. Favourite book you've read this year?

The Fall of Hyperion by Dan Simmons; space opera at its best.

11. How often do you read out of your comfort zone?

Not often enough. I should read much more non-fiction and expand my fiction horizons. Perhaps I should force myself to read one book that is completely outside my comfort zone out of every three.

12. What is your reading comfort zone?

Science fiction, horror, thrillers, fantasy, comedy  or a combination of all of them.

13. Can you read on the bus?

Definitely. Reading saved my life in the days when I didn’t have a car and had to spend an hour or two on the bus to work every single day.

14. Favourite place to read?

On a beach with the waves lapping against the shore – or in bed.

15. What is your policy on book lending?

Since buying my Kindle I don’t lend books. However, I have borrowed books in the past so I think it’s only fair to return the favour.

16. Do you ever dog-ear books?

You can’t dog-ear a Kindle. In the past I have tried not to dog-ear books and mostly succeeded.

17. Do you ever write in the margins of your books?

Only text books or work related technical books

18. Not even with text books?

See previous question.

19. What is your favourite language to read in?

I am fluent in English, American and Australian so it has to be one of those.

20. What makes you love a book?

A story has to be intriguing, scary, thrilling and the characters have to be constantly having a bad day; either that it makes me laugh out loud.

21. What will inspire you to recommend a book?

I will recommend a book if I am disappointed that I have finished it.

22. Favourite genre?

With my hand on my heart, I have to say horror fiction.

23. Genre you rarely read (but wish you did?)

Any factual non-fiction.

24. Favourite biography?

That’s easy: I am Ozzy by Ozzy Osbourne. It is the funniest book I have read in years.

25. Have you ever read a self-help book?

I’ve read a couple and one or two have helped, particularly those that help me cope with workload, such as time management. I haven’t taken everything to heart but in a book full of advice, you can pick up a few gems and make them habit.

26. Favourite cookbook?

I have never read a cookbook and I have no intention of reading one.

27. Most inspirational book you've read this year (fiction or non-fiction)?

Probably my bathroom book The QI Book of the Dead, simply because I have learned a lot about several famous and fabulous historical people, facts that I had no idea about, as well as being introduced to some really crazy people I have never heard of. I haven't finished it yet either.

28. Favourite reading snack?

What a daft question.

29. Name a case in which hype ruined your reading experience.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown was hyped to buggery and I succumbed. I thought it was distinctly average and sadly I tried some of his other efforts too  - and they were so disappointing. I can’t believe he is so popular. I won't read any more of his books, that's for sure.

30. How often do you agree with critics about a book?

I don’t read what critics say about anything.

31. How do you feel about giving bad/negative reviews?

Personally I don’t care. If I read a book and don’t like it, I feel annoyed that I wasted my money buying it. And if it saves somebody else spending their cash on, what in my opinion, is a disappointing book then so be it.

32. If you could read in a foreign language, which language would you choose?

Any one of them.

33. Most intimidating book you've ever read?

No books have been intimidating but The Dark by James Herbert scared me half to death.

34. Most intimidating book you're too nervous to begin?

I’ll give any book a go.I can't imagine anything worrying me that much - unless it is a factual book about Satanism.

35. Favourite poet?

I hate poetry.

36. How many books do you usually have checked out of the library at any given time?

None (see above). I have taken six out at once in the past for a three week work trip to Russia in the middle of winter. I was 40km away from Moscow in an isolated hotel and the temperature ranged from -20 to -10 degrees. I was totally bored and those books saved my life.

37. How often have you returned a book to the library unread?

Once or twice but only because I didn't read them quickly enough.

38. Favourite fictional character?

I like Harry Keogh, the hero of the Necroscope series of horror stories by Bryan Lumley.

39. Favourite fictional villain?

There are so many villains in the books I read and I love them all. One leaps to mind: Randall Flagg from The Stand by Stephen King – but if you ask me tomorrow I will have a different answer.

40. Books I'm most likely to bring on vacation?

Any books in the genres mentioned in question 12.

41. The longest I've gone without reading.

I never go for more than a day without reading.

42. Name a book that you could/would not finish.

Fifty Shades of Grey. Mind you, I wouldn’t even start it.

43. What distracts you easily when you're reading?

Music. Music and reading do not go together.

44. Favourite film adaptation of a novel?

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harries was a pretty good adaptation.

45. Most disappointing film adaptation?

The Jason Bourne trilogy by Robert Ludlum. Don’t get me wrong, The Bourne Identity, The Bourne Supremacy and The Bourne Ultimatum were fantastic films and I loved them. The big problem for me was the fact that the only thing they had in common with the books was Jason Bourne, the main character.

I would dearly love to see a proper adaptation of the three book based extremely closely to the books. The Bourne Ultimatum ranks as my favourite Robert Ludlum book and it is absolutely nothing like the film at all.

46. The most money I've ever spent in the bookstore at one time?

Probably about £20.

47. How often do you skim a book before reading it?

Never – unless it is a technical text book.

48. What would cause you to stop reading a book half-way through?

Somebody setting fire to it.

49. Do you like to keep your books organised?

No. Mrs PM makes me get rid of them. However, now I have a Kindle I can keep them all in alphabetical order on my device without interference from my beloved.

50. Do you prefer to keep books or give them away once you've read them?

I prefer to keep them. Mrs PM prefers to ditch them. I have a rule that I will refuse to break though. Comedy books and non-fiction must be kept (as reference books if nothing else).

51. Are there any books you've been avoiding?

Only books I have no intention of reading. Why avoid a book that you want to read?

52. Name a book that made you angry.

The Dark Tower by Stephen King. This was the pinnacle of a seven book series that supposedly rivalled The Lord of the Rings and when I finished it I was so disappointed that I almost threw the book into the swimming pool (I was on holiday at the time). I actually ranted to Mrs PM about it and she watched me blank faced because she had no idea what I was raving about.

53. A book you didn't expect to like but did?

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K.Rowling. I ended up reading all seven books as a result.

54. A book that you expected to like but didn't?

The Dark Tower by Stephen King.

55. Favourite guilt-free, pleasure reading?

A huge multi-volume space opera full of madness, monsters and mayhem.

The Hoarder

I am a hoarder.

There I’ve said it. I didn’t need to go on the Jeremy Kyle to tell a bunch of strangers who like car crash TV. I didn’t tell the world that I have come to terms with my problem because of some weird personality trait dictating that I should wash my dirty clothes in public.

Instead, I confessed it in a blog to a handful of readers, a lot of whom I have never met, most of whom probably think that I am some kind of eccentric oddball.

I feel much better now.

Mrs PM knows that I am a hoarder and she hates it. She is transient by nature and devotes all of her attention to whatever takes her interest during that fleeting period.

Take music for example. At the moment, she is devoted to The Black Eyed Peas and Lady Ga Ga and she will continue to be so until she gets bored of them. And then she will ditch them. Not only will she ditch them, she will also dispose of any evidence that she was remotely interested in them. The CD’s will find their way onto Ebay and into the hearts of any crazy fool dumb enough to buy them. To Mrs PM, she has lived for the moment and that moment will be well and truly over – so she will obliterate them from her life with absolute maximum prejudice.

This is her mantra: “It is so over!”

You may have heard me quote that mantra before when I have had to deal with her desire to throw out my clothes.

They say that opposites attract; in the case of hoarding we are poles apart.

As far as I am concerned, if a band enters my radar and I love them, I will buy the CD and I will keep it – forever. It has earned its place in my affections and therefore deserves a place in my life and in my cupboard. I will never, ever get rid of it.

I also have the same attitude to other things too. My collection of books, rock magazines, clothes, gadgets, university notes, football programmes, DVD’s – anything that I like.

Mrs PM hates it.

I have already told you about how, when we got together, she annihilated my wardrobe, throwing out all of my shirts and leaving me without clothes.

“You need to buy new clothes,” she said.

“How? I haven’t got any clothes to wear to actually go and buy anything. Do you want me to walk around the Trafford Centre in my underpants?”

“Not THOSE underpants – they’re SO over.”

Thankfully, she allowed me to wear some unfashionable jeans and a T-shirt in order to buy a whole new set of clothes.

I allowed her to get away with it, simply because we were in the honeymoon period and I wanted to impress her. She clearly didn’t feel the same way I did. I was a formless blob of plasticine to mould into the man she desired.

Of course, needless to say, I rebelled, as I usually do and revisited my hoarding past. It was a dirty hidden secret that I relished.

And this is where the problems began.

You see it is really difficult to hoard without keeping it a secret. My collection of CD’s outgrew the shelving that accommodated them. My wardrobe was only a finite size and every new shirt that I bought had to be crammed into an ever decreasing amount of free space. I bought yet more books and, like the CD’s the number grew too large to store on a bookshelf.

Mrs PM discovered my dirty little secret. She was pretty good about it.

“Let’s have a massive clear out. You can start with your wardrobe then you can move on to those paperbacks. And when you’ve finished with that lot we can look at you CD’s.”

“You ARE joking!” I retorted.

“No!” she replied.

Thus our power struggle began.

I know where my tendency to hoard comes from; my mother. She is the world champion at hoarding. Why does she hoard?

I have a theory about that.

My parents were both born just before World War II and this, as you can imagine, was a very difficult time in terms of acquiring basic necessities. Even after the war was over, the British government continued to ration supplies. People ran out of everything and consequently began to stockpile even the most fundamental bits and pieces.

As a child I remember all four of my grandparents telling me that I shouldn’t waste anything. If there was a use for it then it should be kept. My mum told me the same. It was a mentality born out of rationing. Few things were available so when something passed your way, you kept it.

I remember when my ex-wife’s grandmother died at the age of ninety six. She had lived a fabulously long life, surviving two world wars and more than her fair share of hardship. When the time came to clear out her house, she had hoarded all sorts of things; she had boxes of brown paper bags; bags full of paper clips, elastic bands, pens, pencils, notebooks, thimbles, cotton, plugs, fuses, cutlery, plates, books, newspaper, cotton, plasters, plastic containers, toothpicks, matches, kitchen foil, string – you name it, she had it.

And she wasn’t alone. When my mum’s parents died, we found money in boxes scattered in hiding places throughout the house, under steps, behind skirting boards. My grandfather trusted nobody and hoarded all sorts of junk. He built his own shed and it was literally overflowing with nails, screws, tacks, tools and all sorts of hardware. He could have opened a shop. His wife, my grandmother, was similar. Like my ex-wife’s grandmother, she kept bags and boxes of everything that we take for granted.

The mantra was “You never know when you might need some string” or in fact anything that could conceivably be useful.

Unfortunately my mother shares this mantra and her small house is overflowing with junk. I spend a lot of time telling her that she can and should get rid of some of her stuff but she repeats her mother’s mantra and looks at me as if I am a particularly stupid primeval swamp creature.

One day, I visited her and she said “I’ve bought a new fridge.”

“Fabulous,” I said. “I think you needed one. That old one was falling apart and it was too big for your kitchen.”

I walked into the kitchen to look at the new fridge and saw it standing there, nice and shiny and absolutely full of food. Next to it was the battered old fridge.

“Didn’t they take it away?” I asked.

“No – I’m keeping it.”

I opened it and, sure enough, it too was full of food.

I was speechless. “You’ve got enough food here to feed the British Army and have some left over for the Americans.”

“You never know when it might come in useful,” she said.

This happened two years ago. My mother is also the most stubborn woman who has ever lived and she still owns two fridges full of food.

I am desperate to go there with the world’s biggest skip and have a massive spring clean – but she is prepared. She won’t let me in the house unless I sign a declaration in blood stating that I will not remove a single thing from within her walls.

It’s ridiculous.

Mrs PM thinks that I have inherited this hoarding gene.

She is wrong. I do hoard but the things I keep really are necessary for my life and my sanity. I refuse to discard any CD’s and the vast majority of my books, as well as many other things.

Take my scruffy old leather jacket, for example. It is a masterpiece. I have worn it for every single rock concert that I have been to since 1985. It is twenty five years old and still going strong (though Mrs PM will allow me to wear it if I am with her). That jacket has character and is part of my history.

Here it is:



It’s a beauty isn’t it? It’s seen some of the biggest bands on the planet: Rush, Deep Purple, Alice Cooper, Queen, Bruce Springsteen, Deep Purple, The Foo Fighters, Metallica, Judas Priest, Guns’n’Roses… the list is endless. How could I possibly get rid of it?

Mrs PM thinks I want to keep it because, like my mother, I am stubborn.

Despite cementing my feet to the ground and refusing to budge, Mrs PM has worn me down over less important stuff and I have ended up having a massive clear out over the years.

However, I am wise to her motives.

Her “clearouts” are getting more and more frequent and she is trying to shame me into giving things away to charity, accusing me of being a heartless self-centred oaf when I refuse. I have started to give in and, with tears in my eyes, sorted out massive piles of stuff, filling bags and lugging them to the local Oxfam shop.

What she doesn’t know, however, is that I have quite literally started to hoard junk. I keep magazines, newspapers, flyers and all sorts of old tat. That way, when she wants a clearout (which are now becoming so frequent now that they are every two weeks), I simply throw away the junk that I have hoarded and have no emotional attachment to. I fill bags full of crap that I really do not want and then the stuff I really do want to keep is saved to live another day.

My fiendish plan is working. Please don’t tell her. I couldn’t bear to part with my beloved leather jacket.

Soul Searching on Planet Earth

Sunday 21st March is the second anniversary of “The Plastic Mancunian” blog, you know, that inane, weird and foolish drivel that escapes from my brain and somehow finds its way into cyberspace for all and sundry to read.

The blog started out as a nebulous pile of bullshit and now it has been refined into a more focussed kind of horseshit.

As strange as it seems, I have changed in that time too. Believe it or not I have become more mature.

“Oh yeah,” I hear you cry. “Didn’t you recently write about sick and sordid things that have happened to you and other people? Didn’t you come up with a fictional “confession” that was pure gobbledygook? How is that “becoming mature? You’re a middle-aged git – you should already BE mature.”

Well let me tell you how I have matured – a little at least.

I recently wrote about procrastination and how useless I am at concentrating on necessary tasks, or even doing something that I want to do, like write a book. As a result of that post I started to examine myself.

I don’t mean that I stripped off naked, stood in front of the mirror with a magnifying glass scrutinising all of my numerous physical flaws. I have no desire to examine myself in that much detail I can assure you – I scare very easily.

What I mean is, I did a little soul searching; I kind of stepped deep into my own mind and took a look at where I was going, what I wanted to do and how I was going to achieve it.

Don’t worry – I didn’t turn into a bizarre kind of spiritual freak. I simply asked myself a few questions, opened a couple of creaky old boxes in my subconscious mind and let the contents fly around a bit to get some air.

It’s a weird thing, exploring your soul and in many ways its fascinating examining what you have achieved, where you are now and what you intend to do in the future. It’s also a little disappointing.

I can imagine what you are thinking; “AARRGGGHHHH!!!! He’s having a mid-life crisis!!”

I promise you I’m not – I had that several years ago and paid the price with a divorce.

What I mean is that although I have led a reasonable life, I think I could have done things in a different and probably better way. That said, it is not necessarily a bad thing. I am quite proud of some of the things I’ve done – even the stupid things – and I wouldn’t be the person I am today had I not made mistakes.

Looking at my life now, I am a very happy chap. Sure, I give the impression that I am a grumpy middle-aged troll with my opinionated rants about what is wrong with the world but overall I am quite content with life. There are things that make me unhappy, notably the rat race and the inexorable journey through working life, but despite that I now try to direct myself towards the positive things in life.

And believe me, life really is wonderful.

However, as fantastic as life can be, there are still ways in which I can improve the journey and make myself even happier in future. Such was my aim when I wrote the post about procrastination ( which you can read here)

As I wrote that post, I realised, in a sense, that I was holding myself back a little and finding excuses to simply not do what I wanted to do. Hence I declared war on this negative aspect of my existence.

And, surprisingly, it has yielded positive results, albeit slowly.

After a failed attempt at writing a non-fiction book I decided to scrap that idea. I wrote around 6000 words and when I read it back I wasn’t particularly impressed. It was directionless and unfocussed and I couldn’t justify continuing it. After all, if I don’t like it, I wouldn’t expect anybody else to like it either.

So I thought I would have another go at a novel.

Progress has been slow (mainly because I am being too much of a perfectionist) but I am now almost 9000 words into it. My head is buzzing with the plot at the moment and I am slowly but surely chipping away – more so than any previous attempt at writing a novel. I simply need to sit down and write the bloody thing. In a sense this is where procrastination is fighting back. That and the fact that I am busy at work and end up being on call too much.

I didn’t say it was going to be easy.

I remain positive and enthusiastic and I am prevailing in the war. Moreover, other aspects of my life are improving too.

Mrs PM surprised me last month when I talked to her about it; she said “Yes – I have noticed that you seen more driven in these past months – and you are happier too.”.

That was good enough for me.

Of course, I still rant and rave, act like an idiotic child, say and do stupid things – that is part of me and it won’t change.

I don’t want it to change.

But what of “The Plastic Mancunian”?

The blog has opened new doors and without it I wouldn’t have embarked upon exploring my own soul. I wouldn’t have done so without it. When I start writing about the weird thoughts in my brain, I actually enjoy it – even the utter bilge that doesn’t make it to the blog itself.

It has become part of my life and it will remain so. I have no intention of giving it up.

Furthermore I have decided that I am going to publish my two travelogues online in blog form, in due course.

The first one records a trip to China. In 1999, Mrs PM and I embarked on a two week trip to that immense country, armed with fear and enthusiasm (the fear came from me) and I wrote a very amateurish “warts and all” account of our adventure, mainly because I wanted to remember it all. I called it “The China Chronicles”.

The second records a trip to Hong Kong, Australia and Singapore from 2005, with Mrs PM and her mum and partner. I foolishly called it “Koala Kebabs” and it was meant as a gift for Mrs PM’s mum’s 60th birthday (which was why we were going in the first place), so it is more like a diary than a travelogue.

I will of course post a link for anybody with a morbid curiosity who wants to read my attempts at being a poor version of Bill Bryson.

Moreover, I am going to start travelogue number three later this year; we are visiting the west coast of Canada and America for two weeks in May with Mrs PM’s father – so that will be fun.

So, what of me, after this little bit of soul searching?

My goals are still the same:

To win the lottery, quit the day job and travel the world write about my experiences.

To continue to drive Mrs PM up the wall with rock music in the hope that she succumbs and embraces it.

And to continue to be just the way I am but this time with the added bonus of standing triumphant over the bloodied corpse of procrastination.

And, most importantly of all, to remain happy!

Thanks again for reading the blog (even if this is the first time you have stumbled upon the crap I write) and I hope you come back to read it again.

Cheers

Dave

Procrastination - The War Begins

I have declared war on procrastination. Let battle commence.

“What is procrastination,” you may ask.

This short video sums it up perfectly:



Basically procrastination is the inability to perform tasks on time (if at all), preferring to defer them until later. For example, I have been planning in my mind to sit down and write a book. Each time I sit down at my PC, I become distracted with email, games, music, looking at my feet, polishing my desk, reading about the effect of rainwater on gravel and end up spending an unproductive hour wasting my time doing anything but writing.

The word “procrastination” comes from the Latin “pro” (for) “crastinus” (tomorrow), i.e. put off until tomorrow and that’s exactly what I do. And tomorrow never comes.

For me, it is not just writing a book; I know that certain other tasks need to be done but instead of getting up and doing them, I find something else to do, something mundane, something pointless, in fact anything but the task at hand.

Recently I’ve been asking myself why I procrastinate and, quite frankly, I simply cannot answer the question. I am utterly clueless. Why do I sit down at my PC with the best intentions, yet five minutes later end up playing my fourth game of “Bejeweled”? Why do I mentally prepare myself to write a chapter of a book and end up watching repeats of Blackadder?

I’ve even sat there tidying my desk. Why would I do that? Am I insane?
I don’t suffer from this annoying affliction all of the time. When I’m at work, I almost always achieve the deadlines imposed upon me and attack problems with gusto and professionalism. I am commended for it. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I am a workaholic (far from it) but I do achieve what is expected of me; if I were to procrastinate at work I would suffer – so I don’t.

Yet when I get home, I will sit and watch TV rather than start my blockbuster. Why?

It’s not as if I have a deadline. I’ve not told myself that I need to write a book within a year. I don’t have anybody telling me that I should sit down and write the bloody thing. I want to do it for fun. I want to do it as a hobby. I’m not even sure that I will get as far as trying to publish it. The book is for me and me alone.

So what is wrong with me? Here are a few other things I procrastinate over:

(1) Mrs PM and I decided two years ago to take up dancing. Have we done it yet? No!

(2) I convinced myself after a visit to France that I wanted to retire there. Mrs PM speaks very good French. My French is pretty bad and I need to improve a lot. I decided a year ago to enrol in a French course in the centre of Manchester. Have I done it yet? No!

(3) I haven’t done any real exercise for four or five years now. Two years ago I decided to cycle to work at least twice a week during the Spring, Summer and Autumn months. The distance from home to work is approximately 5 miles. It would keep me fit, save petrol (and therefore money) and reduce stress. Have I done it? Once or twice. ONCE OR TWICE!!

What the hell is wrong with me?

I’ve had enough. The only thing that I have managed to keep up outside work is the maintenance of this blog. For some reason, I actually look forward to writing drivel for people to read, criticise, comment on or even ignore. I need to capture the feeling I get from blogging, merge it with the drive I have at work and then apply it to those areas that fester or die due to procrastination. I have done some research and I think I understand the problem. Here are the main culprits:

(1) Disorganisation and bad time management - I am totally disorganised. At work, I keep a “to do” list and manage to maintain it. At home, however, I keep no lists at all and I do not set myself deadlines.

(2) Distraction - I am easily distracted. If I start surfing the web for research, I will invariably stumble across a blog that interests me that has nothing to do with what I am doing. I will spot a game that is just dying to be played; I even end up reading stupid articles about how to take over the world armed with a cat, a pitchfork and a bag of sausages. If Mrs PM is in the other room watching TV I will actually strain my ears to discover what she is watching. I have even stooped so low as to abandon writing and researching to watch Gok Wan on TV. How utterly stupid is that?

(3) Fear of failure – I’m writing a book for myself, not for anybody else. So am I going to read it and then say “Well that’s a pile of crap, Dave!!”

(4) Feeling overwhelmed – Writing a book is not easy. I know – I’ve read books about it. Part of me feels like I have to climb a mountain with a blindfold in the middle of a hurricane.

(5) Indecision – If I am a true Libran, how can I decide what to write a book about? Do I write a horror story or a massive science fiction space opera? Do I write a thriller or romance novel? Or do I write humorous observation?

(6) Low frustration tolerance – I easily become frustrated if something is not working for me – and then I end up swearing and ranting and taking out my frustration on innocent people worldwide by trying to annihilate them on Mario Kart. But I can’t because I’m crap and that makes me even more frustrated.

(7) Paranoia – Will people like my book? Will I like my book? Will people talk about me because my book is crap?

Reading that list back makes me feel really stupid. Do you know why? Because each of the causes above can easily be overcome. I cope with this at work so why can’t I cope at home? Honestly, I feel like a wretched idiot who is making up excuses to feed the procrastination monster within; he is so full of pathetic excuses that he is obese and can barely lift his fat bloated body.

So here’s what I am going to do. I am going to declare war on that fat, ugly bloated monster within me called “The Procrastinator”. The first assault has just begun – this blog post. I am going to tackle each of the problems above as follows:

(1) Disorganisation – I will set myself deadlines and a list of things to be done by certain dates and I will try my utmost to stick to them.

(2) Distraction – I will reward myself for meeting my deadlines by allowing myself to do bits of fun stuff like getting my arse kicked on Mario kart. I will plan football matches into my schedule as well as Mrs PM time and other fun stuff. I will not allow myself to be distracted until a task has completed.

(3) Fear of failure – I am failing by not writing a book. My book is for me – if nobody else likes it, who cares? I will have achieved something even if it’s the worst book in the world ever.

(4) Feeling overwhelmed – I have a superb book about how to be a writer with tips about how to plan your work, so I am going to follow the advice in it. That way I will be able to tackle the huge amount of work by breaking it down into bite size chunks. There is no time limit on my book (I don’t have a publisher to drive me) so I will take my time and conquer the beast slowly.

(5) Indecision – I have an idea or two, so I will allow myself some time to decide and then simply go for the best option at the end of that time period.

(6) Low frustration tolerance – I appreciate that walking away from a problem or a mental block can be therapeutic. However, rather than yet another Mario Kart grand prix I shall go for a walk with my camera and then return to the problem at hand, hopefully refreshed and not frustrated.

(7) Paranoia – who cares if nobody likes my book? If I like it, that’s all that matters. If I don’t like it I will write another one.

So, dear reader, that’s it. Let battle commence.

If you have any tips or tricks to help me, I would be delighted to hear from you. Have you overcome procrastination? Do you suffer from it yourself? Please share your thoughts, no matter how trivial or pointless you think they may be. Every wise snippet will help (as will any funny ones).

I will let you know how the war progresses – starting tomorrow.