I basically am Bear Grylls.

So as you may or may not know, I've been up in Sheffield for the first part of summer. My job hunt has proved to be less fruitful than Chicken Bar and I can't stay inside in my pants 24/7 so some friends and I have started adventuring. With a little help from a certain website, both with my handsome pals and by myself, we've visited various locations all around the city. Here a few pictures I've taken whilst doing so, there are bound to be more in the future. Click on them for a better look.

Choosing To Die.

Forgive the bluntness of the title.


I suppose I have to preface this with another story. I must have been about thirteen the last time I cried from watching something. In the years since then I've watched some of the most emotional films ever made. Schindlers, Pianist, Diving Bell etc etc; but none have had the effect of that first and only film to make me weep. What film was it I hear you eagerly proclaim? 'Deep Impact'. No shame. Not a particularly good film, not a particularly bad one either. The film, from what I remember, is all about a bunch of people basically running away from bloody big meteor. That's the gist of it at least. The one bit I remember, the one bit that sent me, takes place on a beach. The big old meteorite is on it's way to Earth and is on course for crashing in an ocean. Thousands are likely to die, everyone's looting and trying to reach their families and so on and so forth. A father and his daughter, about 50 and 20 respectively, are sat on the beach. They've realised that given their situation, there's no way they can escape the impact. Together they head to the seafront to await their somewhat inevitable fate. In the distance a humongous tidal wave approaches, a result of the meteor reaching it's destination. The daughter takes her dad's hand, looks to him and says something along the lines of "When I was 10 I took thirty dollars from your wallet." He looks to her and replies "Once, when you were a baby, I dropped you on your head". The pair laugh and smile, then look forward as the wave crashes down above them. That was it. I remember leaving the room (I was watching this with my fam; highly embarrassing), and then heading to the bathroom to clean my face up so that I didn't appear to be such a emotional mess. That was the last of it, I haven't cried at a film or programme since then. I'm not saying I've not been affected by anything since then; in fact I'm positive I've seen things that are far superior to 'Deep Impact' and yet none have had the same emotional outcome for me. That is, until the other day. 

Terry Pratchett, renowned author and beard-owner, has Alzheimer's disease. If you're not sure what Alzheimer's is, it's a form of dementia; main symptoms including language breakdown and memory loss. Pratchett has been very open with his condition, working closely with the Alzheimer's Research Trust and documenting his illness with hopes for broadening the public's knowledge on the disease. In 2009 Pratchett spoke in this article about his intentions to commit assisted suicide (though that's not a term he likes). Fast forward to today and Pratchett has worked in conjunction with the BBC to create a documentary about assisted suicide; the decisions that go along with it and the laws & regulations behind it. The resulting piece is some of the best television I've seen in a long, long time. With Pratchett's own thoughts and condition at the heart of the doc, his interaction with those with intention for suicide is poignant and insightful. He talks to a number of different people, with a number of different conditions. Assisted suicide is not legal in the UK but is legal in Switzerland. Dignitas, a Swiss organisation dedicated solely to assisted suicide are at the heart of the film; culminating with  Pratchett travelling to their base with a motor neurone disease sufferer to document his passing.


At first glance it seems that the documentary is bias, promoting assisted suicide as a basic human right. However, as the piece progresses we see the less pleasant side of things - the legal complications, the costs and perhaps most importantly, the effect of one's death on those left behind. The film concludes with death of Peter Smedley, the motor neurone sufferer; with his death filmed as it happens. It's difficult to watch of course, but with the added factor of his wife being sat next to him it's damn near impossible. For essentially the last fifteen minutes of the film I was full on weeping. And you know when you say to someone "oh yeah I cried about it" I mean I cried about it. Like an audible, visual, snivvelling mess for a quarter of an hour, probably more. But don't let me discourage you. It's difficult to recommend the film in that it's not a pleasant watch; you won't have fun whilst watching it. But, having said that, it's a unique and important piece that brings to attention a serious issue that needs to be discussed and addressed. The film, as to be expected, gave way to mixed opinions - an interesting insight to viewers thoughts can be found here.


The piece was originally aired on the BBC on the 13th June 2011, but due to the BBC's iplayer having an awful 30 day restriction limit it has since been removed. Luckily, after some excessive Google searching I found a copy of the film, watchable below or click here for the option to watch the film in full screen. Let me know what you think. 

Let's play catch-up.

I've been neglecting you and I've never been more sorry. However, in fairness to me, I have been busier than you could possibly ever imagine. I've got all my deadlines in this week, I've been making films and reading books and going places and doing things and causing trouble and being good. This year is going at an absolutely unprecedented pace and I am so not ready for it to do so. Plans are being made for summer and next year and the lives ahead of us already but for me it feels like Christmas was last week. 

Speaking of Christmas, I got a neat little camera as a gift and I've been taking pictures of some of the stuff I've done and the wonderful things I've seen. I'll post my favourites below as well as some of the new films I've been making. The black white video is called 'Morning' and it's a type of composograph (essentially something intricate being recorded and edited to create a rhythm or beat). Big thanks to Owen Jones for crawling out of bed and using my toothpaste. The second video is a short documentary made with Owen Jones (producer), Jonny Harrold (audio) and Dave Galloway (visuals); I was editor and director. I think it turned out nicely, please, please, please let me know what you think, we're grateful for any feedback. For now I bid you farewell, but I'll back, and sooner than you think. Be good to each other.

P.s Click on any of the pictures below to see them big and shiny. 

It's watch-a-load-of-stuff day!

Every once in a while there comes opportunity for a day of rest. Everything kind of lines up for you - no ties or commitments; just time to yourself. Today was one of those days. The weather was shitty, I had no money so I couldn't go out and I had (and have) an entire backlog of films and t.v shows to watch. What with the BAFTAs just gone and the Academy awards fast approaching, I figured it was time for me to make my way through this year's frontrunners. 


I'm just guna put this out there - I hate Colin Firth. I hate that whole snivelling, bumbling English buffoon facade put across from him and Hugh 'dickface' Grant. 'Bridget Jones' is a horrendous, sexist, degrading piece of matriarchal propaganda (that may or may not be an exaggeration) in which, men are made to look like either bigamists or dopes. I hate Colin Firth. I hope I've put that across adequately. So it was with furrowed brow and nervous constitution that I approached 'The King's Speech'. The film tells the story of George VI, played by Mr Firth, and his struggle with a speech impediment. He teams up with therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey 'holy-fuck-is-that-Captain-Barbosa' Rush), in an attempt to overcome his affliction and find his voice (in more ways than one). You can see why it's been nominated and praised the way it has. It paints 1930's Britain in a beautiful hazy light. The whites and blues of spring in Scotland; the reds and golds of Royal premises, the browns and grays of the middle class. The past never looked so pretty. The cast is stellar, it seemed to be very much a team effort. They all sort of work off each other with Mrs Burton and Peter Pettigrew consistent as always; providing a backdrop for the forerunners of Firth and Rush. It's nice to watch really. I know nice isn't really the most exciting of adjectives for me to have used but I think it fits. It's nice to see George develop, it's nice that there are moments where we laugh with the characters, it's nice there's a start and a middle and an end. It doesn't come across as pretentious or trying too hard or over-the-top. It's simple, charming and well-made. 

'Boy A' came to my attention on release in 2007. The film tells the story of Jack Burridge, a young man newly released from a prison sentence for a murder he committed as a child. It sort of went under the radar, an independent movie that never really got a lot of recognition, in spite of positive reviews. I didn't get the chance to watch it back then so I kinda forgot about it up until recently. Andrew 'soon-to-be-Spiderman' Garfield, was for me, the best of the bunch in Fincher's 'The Social Network'. So after watching his performance in that a couple of weeks ago, I looked up what he'd done before. Sure enough, his handsome mug was the leading role in 'Boy A' so I looked that little fella up and downloaded it. It's pretty dark, I'll put it out there. Our boy Jack seems to have alot of issues. The whole thing's filled with flashbacks of his youth and what occurred in the build-up to the actual incident, as well as his somewhat unpleasant experiences in prison. It all sort of piles up on top of the poor lad, who seems to just want a fresh start. It's difficult to place yourself as an audience member. We never really know whether we should sympathize with him; it's difficult to know what to think when your protagonist is a murderer. But all that sort of works in the film's favour, it's up to you to decide what you think of him, up to you decide what's right or wrong. Empathy seems to be key here; if you put your feet in Jack's shoes, you'll appreciate the film alot more than if you don't. 


I fucking love American television. Sorry England, 'Dr Who' is great, but 'The Sopranos' pisses all over the tardis. After committing a billion plus hours of my life to the likes of 'Six Feet Under' and 'Dexter', next up was always going to be 'The Wire'. The critically acclaimed show follows the Baltimore drug scene, seen through the eyes of both drug dealers, and law enforcement. I've only just watched the first season (of five) but thus far I can honestly say that it is most definitely the dog's bullocks. It's deep, it's clever, it's engaging and perhaps most importantly, it's consistent. Watch it, but be warned; you will lose many, many hours of your life.

The word of Dawkins.

This picture is not relevant.

I feel like I'm wading into something that precedes me by both years and by knowledge so bare with me here. The debate between atheists and seemingly everyone else has come to prominence of late, and in amongst it came this article by comedian Ricky Gervais. It's difficult to say where to begin. I grew up in a church-of-England-esque house; nothing too serious. We'd go to church at Christmas, my dad would say a prayer before meals on special occasions, my sisters and I have all been christened. Nothing was ever rammed down our throats, I've never had to read the bible, I've never been to been to a Christian summer camp and I don't wear a cross. Things seemed to have died down now, it's only really my dad who still goes but I don't think of that as being a bad thing. There are elements behind Christianity that I wholeheartedly endorse - the good will to all men side of things couldn't be better. Offer the other cheek, do unto others, don't murder other people, the awesome hymns; all that stuff's fucking great. 


This is where things get tricky. There's a plethora of videos and blogs and articles on the Christian debate - if you type in 'Christianity vs' into youtube there are over 5000 hits and that number's only going to grow. Here's my opinion. There is no heaven, there is no hell. When we die that's it, you're done, you don't get a second go. It's a horrendous thought to think that people aren't living their lives to the full because they think that they get another go at it. Someone wiser than I once said that when you die, your thoughts and what you're thinking at that very moment; that's your heaven. Thoughts of the people you love, thoughts of people you care for and the good things you've done. I think that's a nice way to put it. I don't want anyone to tell me that because I don't to go church, or because of my sexual preference, or because I believe in something different that I'm guna spend eternity getting boned by the devil or being tormented by my past. I don't need people like this trying to tell me what's right or wrong. 


I think I'm pretty lucky. I've grown up in an environment where there's been no pressure on me and I have at no point felt obliged or forced to believe anything. That can't be said for everyone. I'm not gay, I wasn't brought up in bible-belt America, I don't have a whole bunch of friends who are strictly religious. I don't believe in God or Allah or whatever anymore than I believe in ghosts or aliens or the Loch Ness monster and I don't have reason to. If a spacehip came down from the sky tomorrow and tiny green aliens came busting out with ray guns and long fingers then of course I'd believe in aliens. Just like how if I was walking down the street and motherfucking Pikachu popped out of a bin, I'd believe in pokemon. But that's it, that's the missing link for me, I haven't seen it myself. It hasn't been proven to me, I haven't been made to believe from scientific evidence before my eyes. That's not to say I don't believe in faith. Faith is an idea, faith is a feeling and I have no problem with people who have faith. I have faith. Faith that there's good in the world, that there's good in people, that there's always something to look forward and aspire towards. Faith that problems can be overcome, faith in love and in people and in ideas. There's more good in this world than there is bad, of that I'm sure. One person's good may be different from another's, but it's good nonetheless. I don't think we're brought into this world to find flaws in others beliefs or preferences but instead, to enhance and hone our own. 


I don't wana get into the whole evolution side of things, there's so much that's been said and argued already I feel like it'd just be another drop in the ocean. What I can say is this. There is unrequited, undeniable, unavoidable beauty on this earth which can be seen everywhere, everyday. It's in the colour of someone's eyes, it's in the grass we walk on in the summer, it's in those annoying fucking birds that sing outside my window at 5am. Everywhere. It's a stretch to believe that all these things, all this beauty, was a coincidence; a series of actions and changes that just so happened to work out. But surely it's more of a stretch to believe that it was all created by one being? I don't want to have to be grateful to one idea, to one concept, to one belief. I want to be grateful to and for everything and everyone. I have more reason to believe in evolution than I do creationism because I can see it for myself. I can go to a museum and see fossils, see skeletons and see other evidence towards that theory. That's what's weighs down the scale for me - simple, scientific evidence. 

Also not relevant.

The problem with the internet is that things are exaggerated. People who might be mice in real life can be lions on the forums and comment sections of the web. It's easy to get the mad ramblings of a clearly insane pensioner confused with the thoughts of an entire religion, especially for those who are unfortunate enough to not know any better. However, there are those who provide brief, memorable moments of clarity in amongst the storm. Richard Dawkins views may well be a little more pronounced than mine, but they're calculated sensible ones. In the first few minutes of this here video he puts across his atheist viewpoint poignantly without raising his voice or resorting to petty name-calling as many have before him. It's these very characteristics that have put him to the forefront of the atheist community, providing a voice of calm and of reason. If you haven't read it, his book 'The God Delusion' is worth a read, whether you believe or not.


As far as gay marriage and abortion are concerned I can answer with the same thing. No person, no religion and certainly no god has any right to stop anyone from doing something they want to do (obviously excluding murder and kidnapping babies and whatnot). I'm not just bunging these two together and saying they're the same thing; of course every single case is circumstantial, but a person's rights aren't something that can be infringed by religion.


I hope this hasn't come across as me ranting or being totally biased; I just wanted to write down my thoughts on something I found interesting. I'd love to hear from you, whether I know you or not, in the comments section below or on my Facebook. I like differences in opinion, I like hearing what other people think. Apologies if anything I've written is poorly worded, I've been off and on researching and writing this since about 4am and it's now 8. Finally, I just quickly I thought I'd share this with you guys - the following video happened to be the top result when I typed 'Christian' into youtube. If it doesn't tug on your heartstrings, I'm sorry to tell you but you are dead inside. Try not to cry.