It’s so close I can taste it in my spit: The Return of the Apprentice

The Apprentice starts again this week. It is both one of my favourite TV shows and the one that makes me the most frustrated.

When I was studying accountancy, one of my tutors suggested watching the show to learn about all the mistakes that businesses can make if they are run by idiots. I think that is a fairly good assessment of what happens in the show. I watched the series that was on and then became immediately hooked and started watching through all of the other seasons which had been on before.

I applied to go on the show around 4 years ago. It was a very weird experience. I was unable to make the London date as I was at a festival, so I ended up getting the train to Birmingham whilst reading Sugar’s book What You See Is What You Get, in the vague hope that it would somehow help my chances of getting on the show.

I’m not really sure I wanted to be on the show, but I knew that I was much better than half of the people they had on who are basically complete chumps. I spend half of the time I’m watching the show telling whoever will listen that I could do it better and pointing out all of the mistakes that they had made. So I figured, why not give it a shot. It would be a fun day out and I might end up with fame and fortune.

What it actually amounted to was a hotel full of men in suits and women in power suits who waited for around an hour each to then be ushered into a room with 9 other contestants, asked to speak for 30 seconds about yourself before then dismissed.

The assumption is that they are intentionally picking people who would provide interesting TV. This seems logical and my experience of the two of three they picked to go on to the next round are they went with the ones that seemed instantly the most pompous.

So instead of progressing to the next stage, I went to Starbucks and read Four Four Two whilst waiting for the train to head home to my normal life of not being shouted at by strangers. I think it probably worked out for the best. I’m not keen on being shouted at.

As a footnote to my experience, this was the second year that you had to come up with a business plan rather than simply getting a job working for Sralan. One of the losing finalists stole my idea. I remember chatting about our ideas with some other contestants, although I can’t remember if the fluffy haired one who had the same idea was one of the people I talked to. If he was, I feel his uppance came when he was booted off first out of all the finalists. Especially as it was a crap idea anyway. At least if you’re going to steal something, try to steal a good idea.

Toot toot, Thomas

Today I have renewed my annual rail ticket. This will mean that I have been commuting to London for a whole year.

I never intended to become a commuter. It happened by accident. I was looking to move to working for a not for profit organisation and opportunities were limited in my home town, so I started to look further afield.

Before I began commuting, I had certain opinions on what it would be like to be a commuter. I knew a few people who did it before I started and had chatted with them about their experiences. I thought that I would feel important heading into the city every day, I thought that my work would feel much more important and poignant working in the nation’s capital). I imagined that the train would be bustling and lively with a sense of camaraderie as we would all be doing the same march to the Big Smoke each day. I think I had a rose tinted view. I also thought that I would be able to spend the additional travel time reading, learning and generally broadening my horizons.

On the downsides, I thought that the travel would be quite draining and that I would want to go to sleep around 7pm every day (I’ve always been quite a tired person and I imagined getting up earlier would make this much worse) and that a massive chunk of my salary would now be spent getting to work when I had previously been able to stroll 15 minutes to the office.

I thought that one year in is a good time to review what the reality is of my commute and whether it has met my expectations.

At over £6,000 a year, I would have thought I should expect a good service. My annual gold card should allow me certain perks. Such as upon arrival in London, Boris Johnson personally greeting me in a helicopter and taking me to my onward destination. Or if that is too much to ask, perhaps a friendly Network Rail worker to give me a high five and a coffee as I step off the train.

Unfortunately this is not the case. What my gold card does entitle me to is unlimited travel to and from my destination, as well as stopping off at any point along the way. As my destination is broadly defined as London, and there are a number of possible routes in, this actually allows me to travel to almost anywhere within my local vicinity. This is a nice perk. And the fact that I can get to London for free whenever I want has also been nice. I’ve done a bit of sightseeing and it has also reduced the cost of my travel when I’ve gone on holiday, especially as I can get discounts for anyone travelling with me.

The service has worsened since I started. This time last year, my train would be a six carriage train which would combine with another six carriage train for most of the route, meaning that there was almost always enough space for everyone . This has now just become a single six carriage train and so is often standing room only. When there are cancelled or delayed trains, it starts to become much little a chicken coop.

In my head, when a company gets more people travelling, it is getting more revenue and therefore should be able to buy more carriages. I have pointed this out to SouthEastern on several occasions, along with the fact that they made £12m profit last year despite being voted the worst rail operator although it looks unlikely that we’ll get extra carriages any time soon. It is almost enough to make you want to stop travelling by rail and, along with the fact that I am just contributing to London’s overcrowding problem which has pushed rents sky high and started to force people out of the city, has led me to consider finding something else closer to home.

As an operator, SouthEastern tend to be too defensive and not open to suggestion or discussion. They reply to comments on Twitter only when asking from help. If you email them, they send long replies largely missing your point. They have Meet the Manager sessions but largely at inconvenient times and locations for commuters. They appear to have taken the ostrich approach to customer service.

You can easily see why they are the worst if you go on another operator. Even though others may not be amazing, you can still tell the difference with what you are getting for your money. HS1, which I get every day is quite clean (although poorly designed for when it is overcrowded). Any other part of SouthEastern is in comparison, really quite unpleasant. It is different in other parts of the country, Virgin for example, is quite a pleasant experience in comparison. Even our local buses are more pleasant, now including wi-fi and aeroplane style comfortable seats.

First class on a SouthEastern journey – other than HS1 which doesn’t offer this – might cost you over twice as much but basically gets you nothing extra. Having sat in First Class when a train was overcrowded (an onboard manager – ticket inspector for anyone who hasn’t traveled on trains recently – told me to. I wasn’t being naughty), I can confirm that the experience is no better than a regular seat in any discernible way and is definitely not worth splashing out on.

As expected, I have been getting up a lot earlier than previously, and this has had a knock on effect on how tired I have been especially by Friday evening after a week of travelling. My stamina has been increasing slightly but it is still a drain. I find it difficult to sleep while I’m travelling as I’m paranoid that I’ll miss my stop, so I’ve been looking for alternative ways to get a little more sleep. A couple of weeks ago I bought an amazing breakfast caddy which allows me to prepare my breakfast the night before and eat it on the go. This has been getting me 15 minutes extra in bed each morning so far with the plus side of making me eat a little healthier.

The camaraderie – which I’m not sure why I expected – doesn’t exist at all. If you’re the first to the platform, you’re almost certainly not going to be the first onto the train. The British appear to no longer be as good at queuing as we once were. Everyone seems to think that they have the right to be the first on the train despite the fact that we all pay the same extortionate price. There was even one occasion when a fellow passenger used his bike to barge me out of the way to get on first. The one exception to this is the chap that always gets on the same carriage as me first thing in the morning. Whichever of us is at the station last will very politely offer to allow the other on first. This sense of politeness seems to dissipate the closer you get to London. From this I conclude that living near to London makes you grumpy and rude.

I did start to feel important for the first few weeks of being a commuter. This wore off quite quickly though. It can still be exciting when you arrive in the city and it is quite bustling and it does give you a bit of a lift but this is only temporary. To increase my feeling of importance, I like to smash my way through both of the double doors as I exit Westfield to make myself feel as strong as the Incredible Hulk (whilst knowing deep down inside that they are intended to swing open quite easily).

Walking through Westfield is fine in the mornings before the shops have opened but I get quite annoying at hometime when it is full of shoppers. Actually, shoppers are fine. It is the dawdlers, the people who don’t pay attention to where they are walking as their head is in their phone, and those that walk in groups taking up all of the pathway or those that stand still and make no allowance for the fact that people might need to get past. Then out comes my inner rage as I mutter inside my head about how bad mannered and impolite they are.

Another poor thing about the service is the communication when there are delays. There is an announcement of the delay with an automated apology along with a vague reason why it has occurred but often no indication of when it will be resolved. There will occasionally be a message advising that you can use your ticket on alternative London stations, although the only time I’ve attempted to do this, the length of the tube journey to the alternative station plus the additional time of the journey meant that I would have been home earlier had I waited for the problem to be resolved. One of the reasons I didn’t wait was due to the fact the announcement and apology of the delay was being repeated every minute and was doing my nut in.

When you are delayed, you do get to claim delay repay if your journey is disrupted by at least 30 minutes. I have managed to accumulate almost £90 of vouchers which will be going towards a discount on my season ticket, which is a shockingly high amount of time that I must have spent waiting for trains, especially when you consider that my standard voucher is £5.50.

The longest I must have been delayed when walking to work would maybe have been a minute attempting to cross a road. I previously walked 15 minutes each way to work. I currently walk 15 minutes to and from the train station each side of my journey. With a train journey of 46 minutes if there are no delays, my total time spent travelling each day is now 152 minutes. Let’s round it up to 160 to include time waiting for the train each way and I’m spending 2 hours 10 minutes longer to get to and from work each day than I was previously. I know I was fortunate to live so close before, but this puts things into perspective and makes me realise that long term, I want to be working closer to home.

Another thing that you soon get to grips with is that as soon as you get outside of central London, connections become much poorer. The company I work for has several offices. The one nearest to me as the crow flies is in Sidcup but the rail network is not designed to allow me to get there easily and it takes me at least twice as long as my regular commute (at the best of times).

Reading has been the main thing I’ve appreciated about being a commuter. I’ve read 66 books in the year that I’ve been commuting. There are downsides. Sometimes it is difficult to get into a book so early in the morning or being so braindead on the way home that it’s too difficult to focus. Or if you have people who decide that talking on public transport before 9am is an acceptable thing to do. Generally, it has been good me time that allows me to relax and plow through the massive pile of unread books that I have accumulated.

Another enjoyable thing is the se_tranes parody account on Twitter (formerly se_raleway) because if you can’t laugh at how much you’re being screwed over, then you’re going to get really rather grumpy about it. To conclude, commuting is alright if you can deal with it, keep your sense of humour and sanity and if the rewards are worthwhile. Otherwise, it can be draining and demoralising and just add more misery to your working day.

My Darkest Hours: 4 days without a phone

I was without a mobile phone from Monday until yesterday evening. Whilst I try to stop it from controlling my life, it did feel as if I’d travelled back in time to the dark ages. Initially I thought it would be great to be free from being tied to it. That I would no longer feel tempted to look down and check Facebook or Twitter or e-mail every 30 seconds but instead to enjoy the moment in which I am living.
I didn’t realise just quite how reliant I am on my phone. Even the simplest things have become much more difficult without it. Let’s talk through the difference that it has made to my daily routine.

My phone has for many years been my alarm clock. It has ensured that I wake up early enough so that I don’t miss work. Admittedly, my body almost always wakes me up before my alarm goes off (damn you, body!) but there are instances when this doesn’t happen and so I need to have a mechanical fall back for this purpose. I had to work out how to set my alarm on my bedroom clock and also to remember to set it every night (without my phone to remind me to do so, no less!)
I then have around 40 minutes every day when I am walking to and from the train station. Usually I’ll be listening to a podcast and blocking out the noise of the traffic and pedestrians. My phone has provided this purpose for the last 2 years after my 10 year old iPod gave up the ghost. Now I hear the traffic and the pedestrians. This in itself isn’t too annoying – the sounds of nature can be quite pleasant – but I like feeling productive and spending the time learning what is going on in the world. I’ve been listening primarily to sports and politics podcasts which fills the time nicely. I’m starting to feel slightly less up to date having not been able to listen to anything since Friday.
Then there is my sense of direction. Google Maps on my phone is the reason that I’m not stuck in a field in the middle of the West Country after getting lost attempting to find my way home from a trip to Yeovil 8 years ago. My sense of direction is bad. Really quite bad. Yesterday, I had to visit an office in Westminster for a meeting. Without my phone, I felt worried. I studied the map and directions on my PC for about 10 minutes prior to leaving, as well as printing them off for good measure. I made it fine – it was only a 5 minute walk from the tube – but it was touch and go for a while.
There are several apps that I have become tied to. I’ve been trying to eat more healthily and lose a little weight, so I’ve been using the MyFitnessPal app to help me monitor my calorie intake, ensure that I do enough exercise and also get enough vitamins and iron. (Side note: I’m pleased to say that it has helped me lose around 10 pounds so far, and that this is weight and not sterling).
I’ve also been trying to learn Spanish. This is an ongoing item on my bucket list. A couple of months ago I started using the Duolingo app which I am addicted to. It reminds me when I should be practicing, I’ve got a daily goal and it works out what areas I’m weak at and helps me to go over them. In short, it’s the first way of learning that I’ve been able to get really engaged in (having tried books and CDs as well as an online course) and therefore the first that has helped me make any real progress. It also told me recently that I’m 43% fluent which is clearly a load of poppycock as I don’t even know how to say “well, that’s clearly a load of poppycock” in Spanish yet.
I use my phone as a shopping list. When I get to the supermarket, I stand no chance of remembering what it is I actually need. I’ve got a poor memory. What I do have is a good sense of planning. When I run out of something, I add it onto my shopping list app. When I decide what I’m having for dinner, all the ingredients go into the app. Then when I get to the supermarket, I don’t have to use my brain at all as my phone is my substitute memory.
There are workarounds for all these apps, however the reason I use them is because they’re very convenient and because they work. Not having them has made my life that little bit more complicated.
Another issue that I’ve encountered is that I don’t know anyone’s phone numbers. Except my parents as that has been the same for the last 20 years. Communicating with anyone else therefore presents issues.
I’ve also had to go back to the old school method of arranging to meet people. I will tell them where and when I will be and then trust that they will be there with no issues. I’ve got so used to being able to check plans via text, or to drop someone a message when I’m on my way, that I had forgotten that we used to do this all the time. It’s more exciting to wait and see if the other party will actually show up.
General communication has become more difficult. Social media allows me to get in touch with people whose phone numbers I don’t know (ie everyone) but it is not the most convenient method. Not everyone checks Facebook messages regularly, and I am only able to do so now when I’m at a computer.
I know that in the grand scheme of things, it’s not much of an inconvenience at all. However this experience of living without a mobile has taught me that, as much as I like to think that it isn’t, my phone is in complete control of my life. The machines have risen. The end is nigh.

No va va voom: Why I gave up my car

A year ago, I made the decision to give up my car. Well, the decision was sort of made for me. The car had a whole host of minor issues which added together made one big issue and would have cost about five times the car’s value to fix. As I was about to start working in London and would be travelling to work on train every day, I decided give my car to the nice WeBuyAnyCar man and not replace it with another which would be sat outside my flat almost all the time.

Not everyone will be able to give up a car. Some people are in secluded locations and/or may need to make journeys that aren’t well suited to public transport. Some people might need the flexibility or freedom for their job.

I don’t mean to be evangelical or to tell other people that they should do the same as that’s not my thing. My circumstances may change and I may want to get a car again in the future. I just want to share my experience of doing so.

The reaction to giving up my car varied considerably from “You’re crazy” to “Good on you” to “How are you going to give me lifts to football now?”

I felt liberated. I’ve never been a great fan of driving and can never feel relaxed or enjoy it as much as some people seem to be able to. Spending my life on buses and predominantly trains I am able to enjoy the journey a bit more, to read a book and zone out whilst someone takes me where I need to go.

There are added pressures – one of which is that I am always worried about missing public transport so usually turn up far too early. As soon as I’m on board though, it’s time to relax.

Living without a car has prompted me to walk more, which can only be beneficial. Except when it’s raining. Then I get a bit grumpy. The weather has not really been an issue though. I’ve not got completely drenched at any point and I’ve learnt to deal with a bit of drizzle.

Financially I am much better off. I estimated the costs of insurance, road tax, petrol, MOT, repairs and purchasing a car to be around £120 per month for the journeys I was making. Most of my journeys were those I could have walked and I was only driving out of laziness. When I make the same journeys now, they are either on foot or bus, with the bus journeys I make costing under £5 each.

One main issue is doing my shopping. I had to change my mindset and my habits. At first I went into the supermarket and put as much in my trolley as I would have done previously. I then struggled to carry four bags of shopping home. Now, I am visiting the shops every other day, buying less in one go and often having more fresh food. It would be nice to be able to get a big weekly shop all done in one go but the change isn’t too onerous.

There have been occassions when I’ve needed a car. I’ve been insured on my dad’s car since I gave up mine, and also on my girlfriend’s more recently. I therefore have access to one when I really need it (assuming I can borrow one without imposing). These instances are infrequent, though. I am lucky as I live in a small town and almost anywhere I want to go is walkable in under half an hour.

The environmental impact of not owning a car also allows me to be a little bit smug about not harming the world whilst also benefiting myself as well. And I quite like being smug.

I may not have convinced you to give up your car, and as I stated, that wasn’t my aim. But think about this: If you have no car, there’s no chance of getting caught in Operation Stack.

What’s in a name?

I was named after Rod Stewart from the popular beat combo The Faces. However, my dad decided that Stewart rather than Rod would be a more appropriate name. I am inclined to agree with him.
I’ve often thought that if I had children, I’d want to name them after a literary character. There’s some sort of romantic part of me that thinks entwining your child’s name with that of a literary character will somehow magically endow them with all the good qualities of that character or some sort of cool mystique. However, unfortunately Atticus does not go well with my surname.
The Royal Me

I imagine that they would feel some sort of attachment to the book that they might otherwise not feel, and therefore live their life virtuously and treat the literary character as a role model. Having said this, the first time I had consciously sat down to listen to Rod Stewart’s music was the start of last year and I imagine my child would be as lazy as me and not get around to learning about their namesake until they are in their 30s.
Stewart can also be spelt (incorrectly) as Stuart. Unfortunately the misspelling is also the more common name. When my brother was considering calling his new born child Emaline, my dad criticised him for thinking about giving his child a name that would always be misspelt. I started coughing at this point with my father protesting that when he gave me the name he didn’t realise it could be spelt another way.
I am quite proud of the way my name is spelt. There are not too many others of us (Stewart Lee and Stewart Downing being two examples) but I think we’re fiercely proud of the way the name is spelt. It’s a common enough name but with a unique twist.
It amused me greatly in my old job where my email address was my full name that people would have to spell it correctly to find my email address and then start the email addressing me as “Stuart.” I think this is probably the reason why I pay extra attention when writing someone’s name because it always makes me feel a little bit more special when someone gets mine correct.

I get a bit annoyed when American TV shows have characters called Stuart on them. The way they pronounce the name is horrid. It’s like “Stourt” or something. I find it painful to listen to. Stewie from Family Guy is fine though. Not only does the pet name suggest that he spells his name correctly, but in the first couple of seasons he was a ruthless genius and this is something I aspire to be. I have a couple of items of clothing with Stewie Griffin on them. One is a baseball cap which I was wearing on holiday in America. A musician who wanted me to buy his CD yelled out to me “Hey Stewie!” It took me a good few seconds to work out how he knew my name.

One great thing about my name – and it took me 25 years to realise this – is that, when shortened to Stew, it can replace you in any song. Every singer in the world is then literally singing about me. Stewart Lee worked this out too, but is more subtle naming his shows things such as A Room With A Stew.

Once you get past the major problems of having a name with an uncommon spelling – never being able to get novelty mugs with your name on being the biggest one – it becomes more of a badge of honour having to put up with misspellings. After the age of around 6, I accepted that I would often receive birthday cards with someone else’s name on and I learnt to deal with it.  I think the disappointment of this put me in good stead for disappointment later in life that would be caused by the performance of the England Footballs Team.
I have always been told that Stewart is the Scottish way of spelling the name. This suits me and seems to be a way of connecting with my heritage as legend has it that my great-great-great-grandfather Anderson was originally Scottish and sailed down via Ireland before settling on the Kentish coast. However, when I went to Edinburgh Castle earlier this year, we found a sign with “The Royal House of Stewart”  and whilst getting a photo of me in front of it, one of the members of staff informed me that it wasn’t actually the Scottish spelling. I have just found the below on Wikipedia:

Stuart is a traditionally masculine given name as well as a surname. It is the French form of the surname Stewart. The French form of the surname was brought to Scotland from France by Mary Stuart, in the 16th century.
As we all know, Wikipedia is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so I think that settles that matter. Further internet research suggests that the Mary Queen of Scots changed it from Stewart to Stuart to ensure the French could pronounce it correctly as they would usually render “w” as “v”.
Be proud of your name, no matter what it is, especially if it is unique. It makes you special.

We are sailing…

 Last week I went on holiday to Scandanavia with my girlfriend and did possibly the coolest thing I will ever do in my life. We were part of the crew on a Viking ship.

Other people sailing far at sea
When I say crew, I might be exaggerating slightly. It’s not as if we were hired and paid in plunder. We weren’t recruited by a fearsome leader for our brute strength and ruthlessness. What happened was a little more mundane.
We got to the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde (pronounced Rosh-kill and more commonly known for the music festival which I had previously thought was called RockSlide) after a circuitous route through the town. Getting to the ticket desk, the enthusiastic Danish man asked us if we wanted to go on the Viking sail boat for 95 krone. He was so enthusiastic about it that I instantly thought “Of course I do!” but I looked at Jo to see if she wanted to spend that much money on it. She looked at me to see if I would be comfortable doing it despite being unable to swim and being terrified of drowning. After a while we concluded that yes, we both definitely wanted to do it and we booked our time slot.
Check out the glee on my little face
So we joined around 15 other tourists at the appointed time for a safety briefing with the captain of our ship. I don’t think that was her official term but I’ve forgotten her name. She told us that we’d all be wearing life jackets but they probably weren’t needed as no one had fallen in during the 25 years they’d been open which reassured me. It’s quite odd – I’ve got a fear of water that I’m able to give over after about 10 minutes on a boat. I’ve been on narrowboat holidays where I’ve been clambering around the outside of the boat, jumping assure and pushing off and jumping onto a boat, yet I still have an initial fear that I’m going to fall in and drown.
The captain also told us that we would need to do some rowing which excited me because it felt like a more authentic experience, and it excited Jo as she is a rower and it was a chance to try out rowing in a different boat.
As we were excited, we were the first ones onto the ship and we got to sit at the back of the boat which has a technical term that I forgot in my excitement. This meant that we were rowing what Jo has told me is called stroke, meaning that all the other rowers should follow our pace.
Having never rowed before, it took me a little while to get the hang of what I was supposed to be doing. During this learning phase, we went slightly off course and almost crashed into some moored boats at the side of the harbour. Reading this and knowing that the other rowers should be following my pace would suggest that it was my fault that we nearly crashed. I would like to submit my case to the jury thusly:
The woman behind me was rubbish. I had to repeatedly stop rowing as our oars would hit eat other. She was clearly not following my lead as she should have been. The only time my side of the ship were in time was when I looked back to see what she was doing and to follow her although this synchronisation was brief with her soon falling out of time again. It frustrated me a bit. She never would have made it as a Viking. She didn’t even have the beard for it.
Jo with the win through her hair and a sail in front of her
After a while we were out at sea and go to hoist the sail. As we were in the prime position, at different times myself and Jo both got to do important rope holding tasks. I was excited by this. Even though it mostly consisted of just holding a rope for about 10 minutes, there was a period at the start of pulling on the rope and at the end of slowly letting it out. As you can tell, I am easily pleased.
I was also selected by the captain (it may have just been that I was the nearest but I like to think that I was selected) to lower the sail. I got a bit confused by this as I thought if I lowered it, that it would fall straight into the sea or onto people. I had forgotten that this probably wasn’t the first time that they had lowered a sail on a Viking ship and they probably had a tried and tested method for doing so as I marvelled as the sail lowered itself perfectly between where the crew was sat.
Whilst we were sailing, the captain was warning us that we might have to row back in. I was really hoping we would get to do so as, whilst sailing was neat, we wouldn’t get the full Viking experience if we sailed straight back into port as they were doing later in the day.
As I have mentioned, this is perhaps the coolest thing I will ever do in my life and if you ever get the chance to visit Roskilde (just half an hour from Copenhagen on train), I urge you to do so. The rest of the museum is fun too – you can care your name in runes, paint a shield or sword and many other activities that are probably aimed at children as well as see the ruins from 5 Viking boats that were recovered last century.

Review: Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

There is something quite romantic about creating a beautiful piece of art and then refusing to create anything else.

This appeared to be what Harper Lee had done with To Kill a Mockingbird until recently. The 89 year old author’s second published novel has had some controversy surrounding the circumstances of getting it published. It has been claimed that she is being taken advantage of in her old age to go back on her promise to not publish any other work.

The sequel, Go Set a Watchman, was actually written prior to To Kill a Mockingbird when Lee was asked by her editor to write something about the earlier lives of her characters.

It seems that this release could have done with a bit of editing prior to release. Not only are there obvious errors (such as constantly switching a gender of a teacher) but blatant inconsistencies with Mockingbird – most notably the outcome of Tom Robinson’s trial which is mentioned in passing.

Whilst it could be claimed that you shouldn’t be reading it as a sequel as such, it is difficult not to do so when the book contains the same cast of characters along with elements of a shared universe, and this is probably something that HarperCollins should have addressed before letting the book loose in the big wide world.

Whilst the theme of race relations is central to Watchman’s narrative, the elements of Mockingbird that made it so engrossing – the trial, the events afterwards involving Bob Ewell and the qualities of Atticus Finch as a good man in a bad world – are all missing.

Whilst the book is enjoyable in general, I can’t help but feel that where it not be for Mockingbird, this book would never have been released and is not even in the same ballpark in terms of quality and emotional depth.

Vader is Luke’s father and thoughts on spoilers

Last week, the internet vomited a storm of hatred for anyone who posted anything indicating things that might possibly have happened in the final episode of the current series of Game of Thrones.

I don’t watch Game of Thrones and therefore I didn’t care. I do care about wrestling though. On the same day, I had been avoiding the internet until I was able to watch the latest pay per view, Money In the Bank after I’d got back from work.

Initially my thinking was: can’t all the people who are getting upset about Game of Thrones spoilers just stay off the internet for a few hours? I know some people need it for work, but the likelihood is that they are just so attached to checking their phone every 30 seconds that they can’t stay away from it.

At the end of the week, though, I changed my mind.

I found out what happens in the latest episode. I didn’t intend to as I really don’t care. I overhead two people at work discussing it and I discovered who dies. It is so easy for people to spoil things for others and blaming the victim is just as wrong here as it is anywhere else. It is symptomatic of a culture where people aren’t as considerate of others as they could be.

When I’ve been spoilered previously on wrestling sometimes it’s been my own fault because I’ve Googled something such as “How old is the Undertaker” and accidentally brought up headlines about the event I’m watching. Partly it is because of dicks. I intentionally unfollowed all wrestlers on Twitter as they are the most likely to be tweeting about an event before I see it. Then a guy from a band I posted about the result of the main event. Hence my now self-imposed social media blackout on Mondays after a pay per view.

I have also recently finished playing Season One of the excellent Walking Dead video game. Just before I did, I was in the process of recommending it to a friend and I was about to send the link to the Android app when I realised it had a massive spoiler in one of the reviews. Seriously, dude. Do you not think that someone who might want to play the game without knowing what happens might want to read a couple of reviews? I can’t even fathom the mentality of someone like that.

I get the need to talk about things you enjoy. It’s human nature, especially if you want to discuss the art you have experienced. But a bit of consideration is required.

There is also a weird culture of self-spoilering by reading TV guides which tell you who is going to die in Eastenders (or whichever other soap). I always found this confusing. Why would you want to know what’s going to happen in something before you watch it? But then I’m not the sort of person who watches soap. Just the male soap opera that is wrestling. With wrestling, I do sometimes read websites which predict results of Pay Per Views, although this is mostly because I want to see what other people think will happen as I don’t have many people to discuss wrestling with in real life as most of my friends have actually grown up.

I’m wondering if there has been a slight change in the way things have happened recently. Netflix have started releasing entire seasons of shows in one batch, and this perhaps makes people realise that not everyone is watching it at the same stage.

The new series of Orange is the New Black was released a couple of weeks ago but I’ve not seen anyone say anything about it yet. This could be because it’s got weaker since the first series, it could be because not many people have made it all the way through yet or perhaps because it is easy to understand that not everyone would be at the same stage in their viewing due to the way it has been released.

There is though the question of when is it okay to talk about something. I’ve recently been listening to Richard Herring’s Edinburgh Fringe Podcast (or as all the cool kids are calling it, RHEFP) where he was discussing how someone was annoyed at him for giving away something that happens in the 1970s TV series Colditz. The implication is that enough time has passed that if you haven’t seen it now, then you clearly don’t care enough to not get spoilered.

This goes back to the point about understanding that not everyone is at their same stage in viewing something, though. It may well be that someone has just only just discovered a show. The issue is that if we were always avoiding talking about something for fear of spoiling something for someone, then we would never be able to discuss art at all.

I think a balance needs to be struck though, and the situation where two colleagues were discussing Game of Thrones is not quite as I described it. One of them did ask the other first if they had seen the final episode. And herein lies the crux of the matter. You need to understand who you are talking to about the issue and whether and innocent bystanders are likely to get caught in the cross fire.

In a work situation, there are maybe one or two people nearby and you will probably know if any of them care enough for you to need to avoid talking about it around them. This happened in my previous job – you knew that everyone watched The Apprentice (partly because we had a sweepstake on it) so you made sure that everyone in earshot was up to date.

The problem is that the internet is international and social media is a platform that anyone can send stuff to, it is so easy to accidentally see a snippet of information that gives the game away. There is also no possible way for you to ensure that everyone reading your message is up to date with the show you are watching. In fact, it is probable that not everyone is up to date with it, and therefore the best thing to do is to be considerate and not post something that clearly gives away what is going to happen.

A number of people have learnt to be more considerate now, although you will always have people who haven’t themselves been spoilered and learnt the lesson of not telling everyone what happens. Sometimes a website will give away a spoiler and that is exceptionally mean. No websites, that’s a bad websites. I can understand reviewing an episode but not writing stories with big headlines about what happens.

Maybe I’m just over sensitive about this in a way. I’d like to think that I’m not overreacting but then I am the sort of person who avoids watching film trailers as I like to watch a film knowing as little about it as possible. I think though, if you’ve invested a lot of time in something – for example watching five seasons of it – you would be pretty justified in being annoyed at having it spoiled for you.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, wherever possible, try to avoid mentioning when talking about something openly a piece of information which would spoil the enjoyment of someone watching it if they knew that piece of information.

And it might be petty but if if someone does it to you, reply with “Vader is Luke’s father” and they might just change their ways.

Why the deficit is good

I had considered writing a weekly post in the run up to the election. I didn’t do this because I didn’t have enough time to do so and there are hundreds of other people writing who are much smarter and much more clued up about politics than I am. So instead, I did a lot of reading and tried to learn a lot more about how the political system works and what is going on. There is one thing that has been bugging me which hasn’t got a lot of coverage and that – as a qualified accountant – I’d like to think I understand and have some handle on.

As I have woken up early on election morning, I figured it is something I would get off my chest, even if there is minimal chance that it will persuade anyone to vote differently. I think it’s fairly obvious from other things I have written that I lean to the left. I’m not trying to persuade you to vote that way. I just think it’s more important for you to make an informed decision which is quite difficult in among all of the hyperbole that you get whilst the electioneering process is going on.

The thing that has been bugging me is George Porgey and Davey Wavey’s (and some other parties) obsession on getting the deficit down. They have done this by the measure called austerity, which is effectively just cutting spending. However, it is worrying to me that our chancellor appears to not understand the concept of leverage.

Debt is actually good. Companies have what is called a gearing level. This is the ratio of debt to total debt plus equity. It is essentially shows what percentage of a company is funded by debt. Debt for a company is actually cheaper than equity. Banks generally want a lower return on a loan than an investor would want on their equity (for example 5% against 10% – these figures have been plucked out of the air but are probably in the ball park). Therefore, it is cheaper for a company to repay a bank loan than it is to pay dividends on equity. It will also mean not selling off a large portion of your company.

A great example of this in practice is Duncan Bannatyne. Ages ago I read his book “Anyone Can Do It” which explains his business model. The model was just borrow some money, buy an ice cream van, borrow some more money and buy another. And then move on to more profitable businesses. He will be getting himself in more debt, sure, but his business empire (and you can be sure a man like him must call it an empire. I know I would. It would make me feel Star Wars-y) was growing at a phenomenal rate. I’d recommend reading it if you want to see it in action, even if you hate the guy. I can lend you my copy.

There are other examples of good debt. A number of you, may have a mortgage. This is a loan which you are using to get yourself something you couldn’t afford initially. You believe that you will be able to make the repayments and you think that the cost of the interest payments is worth the long term goal of being a home owner, something that D-Cizzle is very keen for you to do. (Too much so in my opinion – we need more social housing rather than right to buy, but that’s another debate).

Another version of this is a student loan. You don’t think you can afford university now, but you can see the benefit of going and believe that you will be able to repay it in the future. You are not even taking as much of a gamble with this as you don’t pay it back until you reach certain earnings.

The principle should be the same with our economy. It is not doing great, so we need to borrow money (increase the deficit) to be able to do more things that will make us more money in the future (through taxes) in order to be more prosperous now.

It is my opinion that this obsession on the deficit is a fallacy and that the way out of our economic problems is not austerity but more spending now on things that will make the Kingdom more prosperous and allow us to raise more taxes to pay off the current borrowing.

As mentioned before, I am not as clued up as I would like to be and am happy to discuss this with anyone. I now await my fellow accountants to rip my argument apart as it’s been at least 5 years since I studied any of this stuff. Please be kind. It’s 6am and my brain doesn’t switch on until at least 10am.

The Case of the Mysterious Telegram

Starring:

Bassim El-Wakil as Sherlock Holmes
Stewart Cork as Doctor Watson

from the diary of Doctor John Watson MD


Thursday April 9th, 2015

It was when I was partaking in my sandwiches in the canteen at luncheon that I received a telegram from Holmes:

Holmes cryptic commands
The knocker on which I knocked thrice

This message  puzzled me. Why would Holmes ask me to check on his house without leaving me a key to do so? Surely this couldn’t have been an oversight on his behalf. And why would he command me to deduce? Something was afoot! I wondered if perhaps he had been kidnapped and that this cryptic message was a clue to help me find and rescue him.

Then I realised he probably knew that I would set off the alarm and not have any idea about how to switch it off, This would be why there was no key. But something about the telegram still troubled me. Something didn’t quite seem right. I must venture to his residence and check immediately!

My cunning disguise

I arrived at Holmes’ abode and strode up to the door and knocked on the knocker not once, not twice but thrice. From the lack of answer I managed to deduce that no one was home. Curious!

Walking around the side of the house, I discovered that Holmes’ carriage was there. I know from experience that Holmes is lazy and wouldn’t go to Ireland by foot which made me more suspicious.

I found a comfortable secluded spot to sit and watch the house and donned a disguise and hid from sight. Nothing happened so I went home to dinner.

Not a clue

I noticed upon leaving the gardens of Holmes’ abodethat the house next door was called Oakhurst only the U was a V.

Was this a further clue from Sherlock Holmes to test my deductive powers. Had he somehow managed to alter the letter?

V in roman numerals is five – was he away for five days? But he had advised he would be back Sunday which was only four days away.

It struck me that the residences around Holmes’ were rather old. This was not in fact a clue but was a sign created before they invented spelling. Drat! I shall return tomorrow to continue my investigation.

Friday April 10th 2015

Holmes’ first clue: Nemo

Having had no further communications from Holmes despite my telegram to tell him that his house still existed, I set out to his home in search of further clues.

I concluded that there must be a mystery waiting to be solved, for without leaving me his keys, Holmes had basically asked me to go and look at his house. Why would he ask me to do that if there wasn’t something for me to see there? And the use of the word “mind” in his telegram… surely that suggested he wanted me to use my mind to deduce something. But what?

Me puzzling until my puzzler was sore.

I stumbled upon a clue that Holmes had subtly left me which I had not noticed upon on my first visit. Perhaps I had previously been caught up in taking him at his word and I had literally just trying to check that “all is good.”

The first clue I found was hidden in a little plant pot. A little clown fish. As any child will tell you, these are more commonly known as a Nemo, which is derived from from the popular moving picture, Finding Nemo. Aha! Holmes wanted me to find him! He was Nemo! I was onto something. But I needed more to go on.

Donning my cunning disguise, I waited to see if anything would happen. As it was a windy day, some leaves blew about but there was nothing suspicious.

I puzzled and puzzled and then I puzzled some more. I puzzled and puzzled ’til my puzzler was sore but sadly I made no progress in my investigation.

Instead of worrying about it, I went to the local public house to see if I could lubricate my brain in any way.

Saturday April 11th 2015

I lubricated my brain sufficiently, however my powers of deduction were unfortunately not increased. In fact, this morning, they appear to be slightly worsened. I can only conclude that this must be the effect of ageing, but at an unprecedented speed. Perhaps there was some mysterious toxins in the air which made anyone age rapidly. Perhaps Holmes had somehow been turned into an old man and was calling for help? Ah, no, wait. Alcohol gives you hangovers. I must remember that one in future.


I had set up a cunning trap the preceding day. I had a small blue skull to return to Holmes from a board game and so put this in an envelope addressed to him and put it through the door, however only pushing it through part of the way so that it was still possible to see it through the letterbox.

When I returned this morning, I discovered that my envelope was still hanging in the letterbox and thus there had been no one in to collect it and also no post this morning.

Had Holmes abandoned his house and diverted his post? This seemed like it might be the case. Otherwise, surely there would have been a barrage of communication requesting his assistance in cases, or at the very least, the paperboy would surely have delivered his copy of The Times.

I discovered a plate with Aladin, Jasmine and the genie on it. Was this a sign from Holmes? I wondered if he had been taken off on a magic carpet ride. Ah, magic carpets are but in the realm of fantasy. This could not have happened. He must instead be referring to the song – A Whole New World. The new world, as we know, is a term for America and Holmes had recently mentioned a desire to visit LA. Perhaps that is where he was? But why would he say he’s in Ireland?

Then I recalled – Holmes had been exasperated that everyone hadn’t realised he was in LA last week. So he has just returned from there, I deduced! This is a clue about where he has been, but what about where he currently is? I struggled with this conundrum but made no progress and instead went to get my eyes test.

Sunday April 12th 2015

Aha! I have solved Holmes’ cunning riddle! He has gone to Ireland for the wedding of his sister! I deduced this because he told me it in the car the other day! It was all a cunning double bluff rouse. Holmes is such a cheeky scamp! Fortunately he is home, alive and well and back ready to solve crimes. He has confirmed to me that the wedding was “great” is as unimpressed as ever at my lack of detective skills.