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.

Back to the Steel City.

Everything's going so quickly. Christmas and New Year went by in a hazy blur, as it always does, and I've found myself back in Sheffield already in a bad sleeping pattern and in dire monetary need. On top of all the work I gotta do, I got a smörgåsbord of films and television shows to watch INCLUDING - Every single episode of 'The Wire' & 'Band of Brothers'; as well as 'Rec', 'October Sky', 'Flashbacks of a Fool' and a million others. It's pretty fucking awesome to know that they're there for me to watch depending on what I feel like. 


The other day I watched 'I'm Still Here'. It's a mockumentary detailing Joaquin Phoenix (the bad ass motherfucking emperor in 'Gladiator') and his transition from an actor to an aspiring rapper. The whole things a satire of entertainment business, Joaquin and partner in crime Casey Affleck take everything that's known about the business and spit in it's face. Here's the thing. I was reading the reviews for the film, from critics and audiences as well, and I was mega, mega puzzled. Are people really, really fucking thick? Everyone seemed to think that it was real, that Joaquin was actually an amalgamation of everything that's wrong with modern celebrity. Did they not watch the same film I did? The one where Joaquin sniffs coke off a prostitute's boobs? The one where his best mate takes a dump on a him when he's asleep? The one where, at the end of the film, it says 'WRITTEN BY JOAQUIN PHOENIX'? People are crazy man. Watch it, it's interesting, clever and funny.


I've been busting my way through the Millennium Trilogy films and thus far can't recommend them more. 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' is totally badass. The first of the three films, it tells the story of a journalist who's aided in his search for a woman who has been missing -- or dead -- for forty years by a young female hacker. Whoever sorted out the casting did a stellar job, every character's believable and has depth that isn't really seen in an action / drama like this. The sequel 'The Girl Who Played with Fire' has a story that's a bit more far-fetched but it's still worth seeing. I'm yet to watch the third, but I'll let you know if it's hot or not. The series was all shot in Sweden and makes the place look awesome (and bloody cold). It's one of those films where those locations and settings really add to the story and help add to a proper sense of realism. 


As I said earlier, I've got a film to make by the 9th, so when it's done I'll pop it up on here and whatnot. In the meanwhile, here's a video of my one true love singing sweet, sweet lullabies with her band She & Him. Seriously, Zooey could be covered in syringes and bees and you'd still have to knock me out to stop me from kissing her.


P.s I redesigned this blog, let us know if you think it's crap. 

Freddy P and birthday tunes.

Here's the dealio. This past Friday, the 14th of January, was my good friend Emma West's birthday. Being poor in wealth but rich in ideas, my brother Fred Proud and I concluded to create a CD of covers to give to Emma. This here is the result. Fred did all the mixing and did everything in his power to make it sound as though it was not recorded with an awful microphone in his living room. He also played all the fancy guitar bits and sang and set all the stuff up, the lad's a machine. We'd like to know what you think, if you've got any questions or opinions or whatever, write it in the comments section below. Enjoy.

P.s If you liked those, below is a song we recorded many years ago with musical genius Jonno Lloyd. 

Notorious XX.

So some genius made this album, mixing together rap legend Notorious B.I.G and mercury prize winners The XX. Listen to Dead Wrong Intro and tell me you didn't shit your pants. The guys who made it can be found over here, and you can download the album here.

It's worth doing.

A thousand goosey ganders.

Click me.

Thanks to you stupendous people, my blog has now had over 1000 views. It might not seem like many, but I'm a sentimental old bastard and I'm totally madly grateful. As a reward here are some pictures of me as an adorable child. Gnarly!


P.s I posted a link for an article in my Christmas blog which told the story of a good Samaritan. The response on the website it was posted on was massive and as a result, they posted this. It's nice to know sometimes that there is good news and good people once in a while.

Nick Drake.

Nick Drake committed suicide in the November of 1974. He was a singer-songwriter from Warwickshire and also he was awesome. 

I don't want to say too much, just listen to this and close your eyes.

His albums - 1, 2, 3.
His life - 4, 5, 6.

Pixar.

I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how wonderful Pixar is. For years now they've been making creative, charming and funny films and shorts, ranging from tales of monsters to stories of birds. What you may not know is that before every feature film, Pixar show a short film they've made. These vary in length and content but all are as sweet and enjoyable as the films that proceed them. You can buy a collection of all of Pixar's shorts (as of 2008) in this here fancy DVD. It comes with loads of extras and commentaries and shit, it's real interesting, you'll bloody love it.

Being a big company and whatnot, it was almost impossible to find any examples of the aforementioned films on the internet, but after much research and googling I found this.  Watch it in full screen and enjoy it as much I did. 

Ebert and Limbo.

It's not often I get the opportunity to prove someone wrong, but I think today I might well have found the perfect chance to do so. I was sat in my room, avoiding work as usual, when I came across as an article by a man named Roger Ebert. Roger is an acclaimed film critic and screenwriter who I'd heard about from someone or something so, when I came across this article I was immediately intrigued and ever so slightly enraged. The piece speaks about how Ebert believes that videogames, in all their shapes and forms, can never be art. I don't want to have to go into detail as to why he's wrong, the thousands of comments at the end of the article by disgruntled gamers sees to that. Rather, I'll give an example. Microsoft (makers of my dear Xbox 360) recently had a Christmas sale, the headliner of which was arty arcade game Limbo. On release the title had been praised and admired and adored by critics, with review collator Metacritic giving it an overall rating of 90 out of 100; so I picked it up to have a wee gander.


 It's kinda difficult to put it into words but Limbo's creators description adequately portrays the game's somewhat ominous tone - "Uncertain of his Sister’s Fate, a Boy enters LIMBO" (capitals were their choice, not mine). Put simply, you're a little boy running around in pitch black and everything is trying to fuck you up. The whole thing is an intense, atmospheric, shit-scary experience. I played the thing in the dark, on my own and jumped more times than I care to remember. The game's engaging, clever and consistent throughout; and even though the narrative simply provided a setting, the game somehow managed to be emotive as well. It's titles like this that prove Ebert wrong; videogames aren't just for bedrooms and lazy people anymore, they're for galleries and intellectuals as well.


P.s If you thought Limbo was pretty you might want to check on some of these - 1, 2, 3, and lest we forget 4.

2011 - Thus far, excellent.

I've had a few interesting New Year's Eves. I remember once spending that special midnight at a train station in Leatherhead. Surreal doesn't even come close. Another year I spent at my house with my family and friends during a stage where my dad had a particular infatuation with Sean Paul. Inevitably, the night played out with us getting drunk and enduring 'Like Glue' on repeat. I spent another at my friend Hal's where his family made my friends and I an awesome meal but then somehow played out with us all wreaking havoc on the green at the front of his house. However; in spite of all past events, in spite of all that's occurred and happened before, last night may well have topped it. 


Festivities took place at Lottie Markworth's home in Brighton. I'd like to state prior to the rest of this story the conditions in which Lottie lives via some brief examples. Over the course of the day we created a game named 'Razor Challenge!' in which you stand in the tiny, tiny shower and try and pick up a razor from the floor. It is of course impossible without dislocating your arms and legs. Example two - 5am, whilst trying to get to sleep on the floor with my sweetheart Paul Olney, I could literally see my breath above my head. It was that cold. Lord knows how that girl manages to live there, I'm really manly and I wouldn't last.


We spent a few hours drinking at the house prior to us going out and as a result ended up being as unstable as toddlers on crack on unicycles. My memory is a hazy mess, but from the pieces I can stick together it felt like Brighton was a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I've never in my life seen so many people crawling, falling over, chundering and crying simultaneously. And that was before midnight. Our group, being the special bunch we are, ended up split up in different bits of Brighton. Some of us went to Jam, a club which busted out the retro tunes and charged £7 for a a double vodka and redbull. Others spent their time on the beach; with chips, fireworks and hundreds of floating paper laterns. I was lucky enough to experience a bit of both and then get lost. Luckily, the drunken people of Brighton were surprisingly accommodating and pleasant. After a short hour and a half walk, during which I definitely didn't throw up over myself, I made it back to the house. The whole thing was very exciting really.


If the rest of the year continues as this has begun I can safely say that this'll be a good year. I can't think of people I'd rather spend my time with or a place I'd rather be with my life than where I am now. To whoever's bothered to read this, I love you. Happy 2011.