Me, talking in my long-winded way about things that catch my eye.


Well, I think anyone that has seen the site used to cyber-bully someone will agree with me when I say it’s a load of rubbish. I think the original idea of a question-and-answer website was a good one, but there are multiple flaws with the site as it stands.

1. That you cannot block anonymous users: if you are getting spammed or bullied by an anonymous user and want it to stop, you can’t block them, because they’re anonymous.

2. There is no questions filter: You should be prompted to spell words correctly, and if a swear word or other cuss word is detected there should be a moderator checking that it isn’t offending the user that asked it.

3. There is an anonymous option: It makes it easy for the people that don’t like yo to insult you, resulting in anonymous profile trolls and spammers. Also, if you are not brave enough to ask them to their face, then don’t you think you shouldn’t ask them at all?

4. No-one reads the posting guidelines: It should be at least obvious from your profile how to get there, and users should be prompted to read them every now and then.

5. People don’t realise that if reported for repeated abusive behaviour, Formspring can get the authorities involved as you are responsible for anything you post, anonymous or not: same as above. Regular prompting and obvious placement of the link to the rules.

If everyone stuck to the rules there wouldn’t really be a problem with the site, but illiterate, ignorant “cool” people, especially teenagers it seems, don’t bother and therefore the site has been run into the ground.

Although the abusive behaviour is disgusting, some rather amusing situations can occur. Come on, seriously? If you’re going to insult someone, at least do it properly.


Gadgets Galore

Where would we be without technology, eh? If we had never advanced at all we would still be four-legged apes, loping around forests somewhere in the world. Without technology, I probably would have died when I broke my arm on my fourth birthday, and most people I know wouldn’t have made it to the age they are now, either.

Where would the people you know be without their cells or IPods? All the vain little things people don’t usually think about. If they weren’t there, what would you do? I’ll tell you what you’d do: you’d get angry and irate and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if we suddenly lost most of our tech. What you should do in that situation is get on as best you can, because to be honest, it isn’t the end of the world.

Of course, when we use our electricity we always have the comforting thought of temporary inconvenience, and batteries. I wonder what a Victorian person would have thought if they could see what their world is like now? I wonder. Would they be enthralled or disgusted? I think they would be damned confused for 99% of the time they were here, I mean, even us that have grown up with all these gadgets around us get darned confused at times. I own enough hand held games consoles to make your head spin, but then again, most people do. Whether it’s an Xbox or a PS3, Nintendo DS or Wii, most of us have some sort of games console. Whether it’s an IPhone, Blackberry or a regular chunky Nokia, most of us have a mobile. My parents didn’t get mobile phones until my sister coaxed them into it a couple of years ago, and my grandparents can’t even turn on their TV without someone’s help.

We’ve come a long way tech-wise in a very short space of time, and I don’t think any of us would want to go back. Unless you’re weird or old, that is. I certainly would never willingly go back to Victorian times, for example, except if it was to have a go on a Penny Farthing bicycle. By God I want a go on one of those.

When regarding the weather, most people tend to have a favourite type of it, and a favourite season in which this type of weather occurs most. Some people, particularly people that don’t drive, like snow the most and therefore spend the entire winter praying for the rain to freeze. Others enjoy the sun, so spend their summers wishing they were on some sandy beach somewhere hot.

Everyone has a favourite. It’s only human nature to take sides in things beyond our control, and curse our lucky stars when things don’t go to plan. We’re selfish. We only want everything to go how we want it to go, and if it doesn’t, it ruins our day.

I, of course, am as guilty of the above as I’m sure you are.

I find it rather strange, however, when someone that likes flowers and spring likes the sun and never the rain. Oh the moaning we have to endure from the people worried about their hair getting damp, oh the complaining from those that don’t want their makeup to run. It’s unbearable! But when the sort of person that would spend all day tending their beloved flowers tells me they hate the rain, I can’t help but double-take. How, pray, would their beloved flowers live without rain?

How, pray, would any of us live without rain? It’s all very well liking sunshine but how can one compare warmth to life itself?

All this weather favouritism is stupid, childish and in some cases very vain. Who cares if your hair will go a bit flat? Not me, that’s a given.

What’s my favourite weather? Well, I tend to stay away from the great outdoors. All that dirt and pollution is too unsanitary. Don’t you agree?

Graffiti by Banksy. Text reads "keep your coins, I want change"

The other day I was in the car on the  route from my mother’s house to my father’s, as you do every so often. It was a very hot day and there were people walking around in their summer outfits everywhere you looked. Of course, as there always is when it’s warm here, there was a massive traffic jam. Roadworks-related, I’m sure, but I was at a standstill all the same.

It was a pretty normal scene, until I noticed a rather sorry looking elderly man leaning against the lamppost on the passenger’s side of the road. His hair was a mess, he was in a green woollen jumper, his back was hunched over and at first I thought he was asleep, so I leant over to have a look at this strange man and it turned out he was awake, just moving more slowly than a turtle. He blinked, giving me the devil’s stare. I turned back to my seat just as the traffic began to move.

See, I wouldn’t have given any more thought to the tramp leaning against the lamppost if the man in the vehicle behind me stopped. I was halfway towards the junction, but as I wasn’t blocking anyone’s way, I decided to stop, turn in my seat and watch.

The man in the car unrolled his window, presumably to ask what he was doing there. The tramp turned and began to speak, following which the man got out of his car, held the tramp by the hand and walked him across the road.

I turned back and continued on my way, but I couldn’t help thinking that I knew no-one that would even stop to ask. I definitely wouldn’t have. If it isn’t in my own interest to be nice, I am decidedly not so.

Somehow, I don’t think being nice would suit me.

What am I like?

There is no good without evil.

Have you ever noticed that people tend to ask you “what are you like?” when they are disappointed or amused? If not, then it seems it’s only the people I know that say this on a regular basis. I thought, as it is my fourth blog, I ought to tell you a little bit about me, as I suppose people will wonder eventually.

Name: Daniel

Age: *censored*

Location: Wherever you want to imagine me.

Ethnicity: Caucasian (i.e. I’m rather pale)

Religion: Know ye not that ye are God’s temple and that God dwellth in you?

Hair colour: dark blonde. Halfway between being dark and being blonde. Yellowish grey I suppose.

Eye colour: Light blue or grey.

Right or left handed: extremely right-handed

Heritage: English, Welsh and Irish (that’s Eire, not Northern Ireland.)

Description of character: I tend to be quite socially and emotionally distant, preferring to think things over than to say them aloud to other people, partly because I am afraid they would reach for a dictionary at times, and partly because my internal musings are often too rambling to even be shared in the form of an online blog, let alone in spoken text. I prefer to be left well alone than to be in the company of one of my peers for longer than I have to be, and yes, to use a slang term I am a “loner”. I am a little paranoid and I am constantly attempting to better my knowledge of everything I can, paranoid as I am that I’m missing something important.

As I say frequently, just because I helped you this once, it doesn’t mean I’m not going to be spitting on your grave later. I hope that I won’t have to track you down to spit on yours.

I am not a religious man in the ways of practised sermons and prayers, rather I have my own views on this life and how we should live it, as well as life after death and the beginnings of all. Generally, on the aspect of morality, I agree with the Christians. Generally.

Secondary schools are a brilliant place for hatred to flourish. You see the same people almost every single day for five solid years, so relationships, good or bad, are bound to appear.

Most of the relationships you make in school are to do with which group you belong to. The rugby players and the sporty girls will have their own group, the players and the sluts have theirs, the chavs another and the nerds take the last. Of course, in every school the groups will be different, but in my experience those are the leading forces of stereotypical peer-warfare. There are always the go-beweens and that one person that seems to get on with absolutely everybody, no matter what. There’s always someone floating around in social limbo, observing the goings-on of their school with a particularly, well, observant eye, since they have nothing else to do.

I was one of those limbo-kids, always there but never really connecting with any of the groups. Even the nerds didn’t want me: they obsessed over looking and being perceived as clever, whereas I know what I am capable of and I don’t need constant patting on the back for it. Therefore, I assigned myself to watching, and watch I did.

I saw the way my school worked: everyone was convinced they were “real” and “hard” when actually we went to the next best thing to a private school in our area. I saw how we not only stereotyped due to where a person was from or by what clothes they wore, but by which school they attended, which I saw as utterly nonsensical. The rougher school that was just up the road, for example, was categorised as a “chav” school, when actually the people calling them chavs fit into that grouping better than they did. The local private, for example mark II, was stereotyped as “for nerds and snobs”. Need I compare? One of the lads from the private school I knew was cool as an ice-cube, if you’ll forgive the black ops quote.

I tried not to intervene with the goings-on as I watched, but there were always a few things I couldn’t let go, such as a fight between too extremely good friends, or excessive bullying. When things get bad enough for me to intervene, you can generally be sure it’s gotten pretty bad. Indeed, the worst cases of bullying tended to involve someone of the LGBTQ spectrum, but that’s another story altogether.

So, I conclude, stereotypes are misguided and school is a strange experience. I think you knew that already. Also, I am the perfect stereotypical creepy guy. I’m such a hypocrite, eh?


A lot of people will post the lyrics of songs as their facebook statuses, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I think that especially when the songs have rather self-decidedly depressing lyrics, they ought to think about what they are actually posting. They then proceed to be annoyed when people ask them what’s wrong with them, insisting that it’s just a song, just the lyrics.

I think they should take a good, hard look at themselves and figure out what draws them to these depressing songs. The sort of music you listen to, I believe, can tell you a good deal about yourself that you never knew, or rather, never wanted to know. Sometimes it’s painful to look at yourself, but it’s always good to know what other people see.

Be honest: is that “it’s just the lyrics of a good song” lark actually what you want people to see, or are those depressive posts a sub-conscious cry for help?