Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Poetry Corner #12: Buying Into.

Hey everybody, Poetry corner is back now that my brain isn't being sapped for every syllable it can think of by the pesky Ottoman Empire. That also means that you get two separate pieces of my terrible rhymes from out and about. Big one first, little one after the jump. And yes, they are *****mas based, I'm very sorry. 


Garfield probably made me think I was a cat person for a whole 2 years more. 

I strolled through a part of town less seen
In an attempt to make my Christmas chores faster.
But I stopped and stared at the scene
of a loud urban pastor.

He bellowed and yelled out the words of god.
It matters not which.
Those more devout than me called him odd
But I listened to his pitch

He talked of consumerism and corruption;
he talked of greed and sin.
He mocked that they'd allow such disruption
for trash we'd soon throw in the bin.

I realised I agreed with the preacher;
but for completely different reasons.
My view required no "teacher".
Just a multitude of parental treasons.  

As I walked away, the man shouted "Decadence".
A word that so often comes to mind
but I suppose it is easy to judge this world.
The positive much harder to find. 

Monday, 16 December 2013

Fine Dining at Vodka Revz and the eternal question about clubbing.

And I'm back, that took way too long, and way too much effort. But now it is the holidays, so my article output should increase, and hopefully the quality to boot. Though this article is actually just about how terrible British culture seems to be, so perhaps the promise of a quality increase is foolish. I'll need a few days to actually do things I enjoy though before I can start talking about that instead. Poem is up tomorrow, hold me to it.

Pictured, the famed "Vodka Revolution", colloquially known as Vodka Revz.
Universally acknowledged to be meh.  

So I think it can go without saying at this point that my enthusiasm for taking part in what can be called "standard university life" is pretty limited without significant intervention from my friends. Getting me to part with £20 to go for a Christmas Dinner at "Vodka Revolution" with History Society followed by clubbing however was surprisingly easy given how utterly weak that sounds. The primary reason was that I had been working for about 10 days straight at the point I was asked. My mental state was probably compromised, leading me to think that I was finally experiencing the university lifestyle and should consequently attempt the end of term party blow-out again.

I'm not actually sure if I was wrong, I'll spoil the article slightly by prefacing that I actually had an alright time, significantly better than I expected when I had finished the essays and then realised what I had signed myself up for. But some aspects of it were still...interesting, so lets do this.