Hello!

Remember me? A delay in posting just means I've had loads to do, so there's more to end up posting about, y'get meh? I've been snapping away and doing loads, and there's an update on the way if not tomorrow then certainly before the weekend. As a stopgap, here's the first picture released so far of David Tennant in character as the new Doctor Who:

Absolutely lovely!

Laters
Marko

Aaah, that's better.

Let's see if I can get through an entire post without being a sulky drunken wanker then, shall we? Shouldn't be a problem- it's been a really nice few days. First and foremost, on Friday night Laura and I went to the closing party for the BT call centre that we both used to work at (and where we first met, incidentally, when I began my calculated and cynical campaign of stealing her from her then-fiancee, HA). As anyone who's worked in a call centre will tell you, it's a fucking awful job. Anyone who's worked in one for four years will also attest that after awhile it really impacts on how you live your life- even now, a year after leaving the place, I can't hear a town name without instantly reciting the county it's in. Anyway, it was a far better night than anyone was predicting- caught up with lots of old workmates and had a pretty grand night. Laura was the most gorgeous girl by far, of course, for at least two reasons, hehe.
The weekend got even better with a night out with Harri and James, who were up for the weekend. It was a rare treat to see them both, and good to see that James has finally ditched the Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen look for a nice, manly crew-cut (LOL, ROFL, et fucking cetera*). Things didn't stop there, though- on Sunday, Laura and I were barbeque tourists, having been invited to two different houses for smoky, meaty treats in the sun. Both were a lot of fun, with Bez and her husband Pete being predictably lovely hosts at their home and with Colin having the king of all games consoles at his (by the way, if you want to see what Bez gave birth to a month ago, click here for severe and gratuitous cuteness). So, a no-messing fun-as-fuck weekend then. I'm having no joy on the job front, however, although I'm waiting on an application I put in to a school in Newport and am checking the net every day. I actually signed on this week because I'm broke as fuck- if I get no joy from the 'port I'll cast my net out and start looking for some non-teaching stuff, because we're moving to Cardiff at the end of next month and as much as I'd like 'em to, landlords don't tend to give out properties for free. See you next update!

(* photos taken without permission from http://Harri80.blogspot.com)

Truth

This is my blog, isn't it? This is my personal little bit of webspace, yes? This is the place to pour it out if I need to... isn't it? Okay then. Forget what the time says at the bottom of this post, it's 05:33 by my watch. I've been up all night drinking and thinking, and I keep coming back to the freaky-as-fuck fact that I'm terrified of the future. Petrified. My fear is holding me back. Fear. Of what? What the fuck am I scared of? What's stopping me from dropping the ballast and flying? Why can't I exist on my own? What's forcing me to cling to redundant relationships that suffocate my growth? Why do I still feel so fucking weak after I've proved myself stronger than I ever thought I could be? Click "publish" and be damned, Lewis.
EDIT: Let this be a lesson to you all- posting to the internet while drunk ruins lives

WTF???!?

This summer seems intent on getting madder and madder- this week I won two VIP passes to the Tribal Gathering festival in Luton next weekend, in a prize draw on Radio One that i didn't even realise I'd entered! I don't really know what to expect or whether I want to go or not, but free VIP passes sounds too good to turn down... The line-up looks alright and it goes on until 0600 on the Sunday, so I'll have a mental time, no doubt... Looks like it's back on the crazy train next weekend, then! In other news, Orla Keighly addict and couture fetishist Harri is up this weekend, which'll be lovely as I haven't seen her since leaving Gav's. Things are pretty sweet really, eh?
Lewis
x

Amsterdamage.

Wanna hear all about my holiday? I think you do. As anyone who's gone there will tell you, coming home from Amsterdam isn't a pleasant feeling. It's now Thursday, I got back on Monday and I'd still go back in an instant. Well, next year, eh? Okay, it's travelogue time. First, the airport. We had something like a five-hour wait to check in because we... wait a minute, I should first explain who "we" is.
This is Rob J, who you saw last a few updates ago. We were going to be going with his other half Kara, but it ended up with just the two of us. Anyway, a five hour wait at Birmingham airport means your fun is limited for a few hours (hence this sort of malarky), but we got there soon enough, fucking tired and grotty. See, fatigue isn't a luxury we could really afford, because that very night we had tickets for Grand Buffet and Sage Francis at the Melkweg, so we had to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed cuz we'd been looking forward to this one for months. No fucking worries, though- as soon as we got our smoke on and got to the club it was just uproar all the way. I've never been to such a superb, intimate venue- for hip-hop it was perfect, you could hear, see and feel everything. Grand Buffet were on first, and they were fucking awesome- like a two-man Beastie Boys, but with a sense of humour and a shitload more energy- these pictures give you some idea of the size of the venue- there's no zoom on them at all, and that was squeezed against the back wall. They're so damn blurry because the fuckers wouldn't ever, ever keep still- this was kinetic, high-energy rap, hilarious, well-observed lyrics and loads of audience participation and ass-shaking beats. The fact we'd been up for thirty-or-so hours meant shit at this point cuz we were buzzing like flies (cool note: Grand Buffet were hanging out after the show as well, Rob and I met them, got our shit signed and chatted for a while, which is a very cool way to handle yourself indeed- I want these guys to get huge, they fucking deserve it). Next up was Sage, who devastated the room (again, apologies for the shaky pics), with his Rasputin-style beard and gown, spitting fantastic tracks from A Healthy Distrust and making each member of the audience feel involved- no shit folks, this was a superb, underground and hardcore evening. Rob and I felt like hardcore soldiers, man, underground cross-planet travellers, soldiers in the truth army of beats, rhymes and life. Well, we were pretty fucked up by this point. A little word about where whe stayed. I've been to 'Dam each year since '01, and each time since '02 I've stayed here, the loveliest campsite in the whole world. No pressure, holidaymakers from all over the world, cheap, basic and clean cabins, really close to the tram terminal... perfection. What makes it for me, though, is the fact that it's right next to a half-pipe and a local graffiti spot- each year I've gone back the art has gotten better and better, and this year it was astounding- I mean, check this shit out. Intricate detail, wide, sprawling works, humour... Just superb, all of it. We had plans to see Nine Inch Nails later in the holiday, but we spent such a lot of time getting wrecked and boozing in as many places as possible that it never happened- I'll live. With_Teeth was pretty mediocre in retrospect, and the forty-minute train ride to the German border just didn't appeal.
The last few hours of the holiday were spent in the traditional all-out smoke-off, desperately nailing as much quality skunk as possible to get rid of it all before the plane- we succeeded, of course. So, here I am, back in blighty. I've got a few weeks of summer-school teaching lined up next month (thanks to a tip-off from the resouceful, helpful and generous Miss. Cope), but right now all I'm doing is taking stock and watching my tan fade. Same time next year, I think.
My thanks for reading this far, and here's a last holiday image for you:

Good times man, good fucking times.
Laters
Marko
x

Hardcore Uproar

In a few hours I'm off on holiday, just thought I'd post some pics of last night, on the piss with some fellow teachers for the last time:

(not sure what I'm pointing at there^)

Me and the unstoppable John Sherringham

Ended up having a smoke with some total strangers. Love it.
I got a big, fat "A" grade for the coursework I was stressing over last month, and my tutor had some really nice things to say. I'm over the moon, in short, hangover or not.

An Ending.

Okay, so it's over then. I've been delaying writing here because I didn't want to give any glib, stupid responses to a really important two weeks that, by and large, I pretty much ballsed up. After getting back to Gav's afer Easter I was just pushing toward the finishing line- I got a really positive assessment from my visting tutor, I had a last rehearsal or two with the Heroin Lies crew and had a week to go when it got too much to deal with. Not just the course, but everything I've been pissed off with since it started- two buses and a lift every morning, feeling isolated, being tired, am I sounding like a whining little bitch? Not sure I care. It got too much. I missed most of the last week, and that's tantamount to flipping a finger at the department that I've been in for the last four months. I don't think I've done anything that'll stop me from passing, but I've certainly burned a bridge or two with my tutors at my placement school, which I am quite gutted about. It's nothing I'm going to go into here, but I enjoyed my time at that school and there are at least two reasons why the Drama department's as good as it is. Seriously, that school is pretty rough, but pupils who cause mad havoc in other lessons chill the fuck out in Drama, and have done for me as well as the established staff there. It's an ace example of a school that takes the subject seriously.
I've seen Batman Begins and Sin City by now, as well as
fucking Star Wars Episode III (three times, two in the cinema and once with gav on dodgyvision), and I feel really spoiled- I mean come on, look at the year we've had as media consumers- Nathan Barley (fuck you, Cook'd and Bomb'd, I loved it), an amazing new Doctor Who (both kisses at the end floored me), new Batman, Sin City, Star Wars, Hitchhikers... I don't know, hollow treats with soft centres maybe, but it's been a good year thus far.
I'm off now. I'll post before my holiday, but if anyone wants to post a casting idea for the role of The Joker in Batman Begins II I'd love to hear it. What'll they call it? Batman Carries On?

Unwinding.

So, that was half-term then. It feels so strange to think that I've got just two weeks to go of this course, two weeks of teaching before I leave Tonypandy, leave Gav's house and move on to the next step, whatever that may be. Another two jobs in the area have come up and been applied for, but to be honest I'm not half as worried as I have been about not walking straight into a teaching post- as the mighty Harri says, grabbing the first job in panic will just lead to despair in the long run, and I'd much rather get something else in the meantime (or even temp, for fuck's sake), if it means I can take my time and find a place that's right.
"But Mark", I hear no-one ask, "how did you spend your half-term"? Well, the highlight was spending three days with Rob and Kara at their new house in Llanfuck-knows outside Aberystwyth. They told me the location was remote, and Christ they weren't joking. Hayley and I spent ages looking for the place, although it was worth it- the surroundings are remote, yeah, but when this and this is the view from your bedroom window, stress becomes a memory. It was Rob's birthday, so there was a lot of drinking, horseplay and general fun, along with another old and really good friend of ours, Stotty (whose band Captain are well worth your listening time). Altogether a lovely week. I'm unwound and chilled, and I get to finally see the Sin City movie tomorrow, after refusing offers of bootlegs to wait for the whole cinematic experience. A fanboy's life is fraught with self-sacrifice and denial, but the payoff is always sweet indeed.

At ease.
x

'Bye Tatum!

I wish I had the intellects of Einstein and Hawking combined. I wish I had enough knowledge of physics and space-time to be able to answer the question: "why the fuck is this day dragging so badly"? There's nothing different about today, technically there's nothing's changed about the orbit of the Earth and the working of my chronometer, so why is it only second period when my insides tell me I've been here today for about a fortnight? Oh, wait, that's it- It's the last day of term. On another note, there's been another Drama student here for the last few weeks, and today's her last day so if you read this Tates- I honestly don't think I'd have hacked it these past weeks if you hadn't been around to lift my mood, so thanks for that and I hope the rest of your course goes superbly, which I'm sure it will. Bye!

The abyss gazes also into you.

Oh fuck, all I want to do is QUIT. The only thing I've ANY desire to do right now is to just. Fucking. QUIT. There's less than three weeks of teaching left, but I feel as though I never want to do another day, another lesson. It'd be a terrible and inexcusable shame to pack it in now, when the year is close to being over... But it'd almost be worth it just to be able to let this out in one totally self-destructive way or another. I am on the ground, a twenty-six year old man in front of a keyboard on the verge of tears. I know I'm the melodramatic sort, I know my language is full of hyperbole and I often come across at totally full of shit, but I'm being as cool and unemotional as I can right now and still, my confidence is in tatters, I'm tired, my head is spinning trying to keep track of all the things I'm supposedly shit at and I recieved another refusal letter in the post this morning. There is no incentive, no point, and little future left because if not this, then what? Where now? What the fuck am I going to do? I'm writing this as rhetoric, I'm getting it off my chest, these questions aren't intended to be answered. These are just feelings. This is my page. Turn it if you wish.
EDIT: I've been home for a few hours and I had to add to this post now that I've calmed down and straightened myself out a bit. It's not as bad as all that. I've come up with some changes to the lesson that went so badly today, I've got another application on it's way to me from a school in Bristol, It's the last week of term, things could be a shitload worse. And I am aware of the fact that I'm learning while all this trauma is going on- yes, my mentor isn't shy about letting me know when she think's something's shit, but my planning has improved, I've seen a lot of good teachers at work and I'll be as ready as I'll ever be come September (assuming there's a job and I don't yet fail- as seen above, when people told me about the stress they weren't fucking lying). Anyway, sorry for the rant. I'd delete it, but I don't want to start self-censorship as it goes against the point, don't you think? More tomorrow.

Ch-ch-ch Ha-ha-ha

Friday the 13th, then. Everything was in place for a shitty day at about 0600 this morning- had an assessed lesson fourth period (and we all know how they've been going), woke up feeling like dirt, dreading the lesson. Ironed a shirt, got my ass on the bus, things weren't looking good... But the F13 curse didn't work on ME today, no sir! Not only did the lesson go really well, through email and telephone conversations during the day I've sorted out my holiday to Amsterdam on the 23rd of June! That's like, six weeks away- my good friend Rob J and I (of whom I really must post more) have tickets booked to see the legendary rapper Sage Francis at the motherfuckin' Melkweg on the night of the 23rd, from there we're hoping to bag tickets for the Rockin' Park festival, where we'll see Queens of the Stone Age, Jimmy Eat World and my final, ultimate, dream-ticket band: Nine Inch Nails. Stick it up your bell-end, Jason, this Friday the 13th rocked. By the way, first person to explain the title of this thread wins a fantastic prize.

(NB: No actual prizes will be awarded)

Accidental magic

One of the coolest things about owning a digital camera is the freedom to snap and snap without worrying about print costs. The long and short of it is, if you keep snapping, eventually, totally by accident, you'll catch the most beautiful images without even trying. This is exactly what I mean. I was only twatting around, but that's one of the loveliest pictures I've ever taken.

Hmm.

I'm really fucking really disillusioned today. It seems as though the teacher I'm working with is slating every lesson I take- today, after a lesson I thought had gone really well, my teaching was called "boring" and the lesson I'd put together was ripped apart even though each pupil, from where I was standing (which was in the middle of them, actually teaching the lesson), was well into it- they asked loads of intelligent questions, all performed the task I gave them well, there was no real misbehaviour, I got through my lesson plan okay, only to have the entire thing ripped to shreds afterwards, just like always. Other teachers have commented positively on lessons I've taken, I've had some good results with some difficult groups, but officially I just get ripped up. I can't remember the last good thing she had to say about a lesson I've taken. Way back at the start of this placement, I remember her saying that her last student left really disillusioned and worn down, and I'm starting to see why. It feels like I'm working my tits off for fuck all. On the positive side, congratulations are in order to my brother Alan, who's just achieved QTS after years of learning on-the-job. Nice one, bro.

Moral Dilemna....

Is it right to lie and pretend to be a Catholic when applying for a job at a Catholic School? Would they start hitting me with loads of Christ-centric questioning? Could they sue me if I got the job, then got busted? Is my ticket to hell booked yet? I think I'm going to go for it.

yadiloh knaB

72 hours. Seventeen thousand words. My coursework is complete. The new NIN album is superb. I feel weird. nuf rof sknil kcilC.

What a lovely sunny day.

I just wish I didn't have to squint at it through a hangover. I'm in Aberystwyth this weekend, sequestering myself from distraction and ploughing on with my coursework in the most picturesque setting I know. The deadline is next Tuesday, so expect some disjointed stream-of-consciousness panicked ramblings between now and then. Other than that, things have been steaming along apace. Auditions are Thursday for the show I'm co-directing in school, now a totally contemporary and hard hitting look at drugz, and how they can, like, wreck your head grandma. It's gonna be totally nineties. Okay, off I go. Ooh, before I do leave, though, those lucky broadbanders who give a stuff should check out this spoilerliffic clip of next week's Doctor Who- Aaargh! Dalek!

Turn on, tune in...

... and fuck you. Look, you can't expect regular updates when I've got so much coursework on. I'm in the last two months of teaching practice now, the verdict is close and I genuinely haven't done anywhere near the amount of work I should've, so forgive the test-card and the feedback and the echo where an update should be, but you don't get called "sir" for nothing and I've got work to do, mo-FO. A quick update, though- year eight lessons have been lots of crazy fun this week as we're studying the holocaust. Cue Mr. Lewis, in character as a PERSECUTED JEW CALLED KARL, spending an hour at a time chatting about how I'd seen my wife shot before my eyes, how I had to work at gunpoint and how, despite the teachings of my father the Rabbi, I still hated the Germans with all my soul for the suffering they put me through. Fucking hilarious. Trying to keep a straight face while telling a room full of kids about how I weed over my best friend while we were in capitivity.... almost too much to bear. Other lessons are going basically okay, I just can't believe how quickly things are speeding by. I'm going back to Aberystwyth this weekend to have a few hours of solitude so I can hammer at my keyboard without fear of distraction, from myself or others. Now though, it's time for Marko's one-word film reviews, and this week it's The Ring 2. Here goes...*ahem*..... RUBBISH. I'm serious, it really was dull. Memo to Hollywood- WATER IS NOT SCARY, YOU FUCKS. BLOOD is scary. ZOMBIES are scary. AN ALIEN ORGANISM THAT PERFECTLY COPIES WHATEVER IT TOUCHES WHILE KILLING THE ORIGINAL TO AVOID DETECTION, that shit is scary. Some damp mouldy lass from out of the telly who makes your bath run crooked? Ce n'est pas effrayant! In short- fuck The Ring 2. Fuck Samara. Fuck cash-in remakes of quality J-horror! Long live Sadako! As you were, you fucks.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Normal service will be resumed shortly.

Brainlock

Quickest of quick updates-
I have too much work to do and am genuinely worried that I might not make it. I know that only action can slay the dragon of doubt, so that's why the updates are quick and sporadic.
Harri is a clever girl and has sussed out how to define her own background for her blog. I said she was clever, and absolutely not a nerd. Now she needs to teach me how to do it so i can Batman-up this page.
Remember my mentioning Aphex Twin earlier? If you've heard him and you're a fan, you'll love this- a die-hard fan has composed an acapella version of one of his tunes, Flim, and considering the fact that Aphex's stuff is so busy and dense, it's an absolutely crazy achievement and made me grin my face off.
I don't want to go back to school :(

Better late than DEAD

Hey-HEY! I really am enjoying the Easter hols, y'know, as you can probably tell from the lack of updates. Loads has been going on, and I'd post pictures if I hadn't left the lead for my camera at Gav's place. Later, maybe. So, I'm home for a few more days of blissful tapping away at the keyboard. Evening drinks, the seaside, no stress and my final two terms of student-teacherdom to look forward to. The only stress has been an imploded boiler (and a cold, smelly wait for the useless fucking lazy-ass plumber), a whole heap of coursework and wondering who to get pissed with next. A lovely visit from Harri started the holiday off, and since then the fun just hasn't fucking stopped. Caught up with my old compatriots Mia and Sarah who moved away to Bristol ages ago (another story for another update), had an accidental night on the old "illicits" (and that's all I'm saying) and now I'm just doing my best to get the work done before term starts. I'm dragging my feet a bit, but fuck it, doesn't everyone?
Check this shit out. Chris Cunningham is a genius, in the scariest possible way. The news that he and the mighty Aphex Twin are collaborating again on a film just excites the fuck out of me. If neither of these names mean anything to you, do me a favour and get the fuck off my blog, now. Still here? Good :)
Hasn't Doctor Who been fantastic so far?
Okay, I'm dry. Check yourself, don't wreck yourself.
Marko
x