Saturday, 7 March 2009

Here piggy piggy...

Well, this the first time that I write a second entry in such a small period of time, but as you will see further down there is a reason why.

We are all aware of these new “cool” screamo bands, with a lead singer looking like a girl and screaming like he is being penetrated by an army of stud-horses. You know the ones that wear real tight jeans and believe with passion in Jesus Christ and Christianity.

Worse than hearing a 20-something year old guy with long hair, who before every song mentions the name of Jesus Christ like he’s met him, is watching kids on youtube trying to imitate the “abilities” of the "singer" by doing what they call “pig squeals”.

Believe it or not, a random guy, that thank god I don’t know or I’ll ever get to know, posted a video as a challenge towards his “breed”. Apparently, being able to do that, a good pig squealing noise, requires some sort of a talent.

I can do the sound of a running horse, the sound of a duck, the sound of a cat, the sound of a cat in heat AND I can make loads of fart noises using my mouth and my hand or my hand and my armpit. Do I have a talent?

Now I fully understand what a musician that I interviewed as part of my course, meant when he said “as some people shouldn’t cook, some others simply shouldn’t make music”

Is it alright if someone punches one of these guys or P.E.T.A will go crazy and come after you?




And if you found the previous video distrubing...here's something funny..just look at the guy's face.

Thursday, 5 March 2009

A death a week...or so I think.

On Saturday, 8th of February, a man got stabbed around 3 times in the center of the city I live in. Just the idea of getting stabbed is scary, but what occurs to me as scarier is the fact that something similar happens every month or every other month.

Someone will be found dead in the river, someone will jump off the bridge or even worse someone will get stabbed or die in a fight.

While having a cigarette with one of my house-mates I mentioned to him my concern about how everyone is keep dieing in this town, and he answered that this happens in every city in the world, any time.

Don’t get me wrong here, I do know that people are meant to die and I believe that I have comforted myself with that idea; but I have comforted myself with the idea of death from natural causes and not by a knife or jumping of a high bridge.

I heard about that man getting stabbed from a friend of mine who was on a night out in town, so I thought to confirm what I heard, by looking on the local newspaper’s website before I start writing anything on here and being inaccurate and make a fool of myself.

Well, after a short research on the newspaper’s website I found out that I was not being irrational for worrying about that.

Here are the links to the pages where you can read all about it and as you can see it’s only a month or so that separates the “stabbing events”.

7 January 2009: http://www.sunderlandecho.com/news/Man-stabbed-as-he-sat.4850319.jp

16 Febuary 2009: http://www.sunderlandecho.com/news/Man-charged-after-double-stabbing.4983564.jp

Here’s another one that only happened yesterday, not in Sunderland but close enough, Newcastle.

5 March 2009: http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/north-east-news/todays-evening-chronicle/2008/07/04/man-in-court-over-double-stabbing-in-newcastle-72703-21268177/

I decided to expand my research and check for same events on other cities in U.K and as it seems, stabbing people here is more like a monthly tradition.

Some might say that it is the cultural difference that I don't understand or I'm scared of; but I’m not worried about the English beer, English accent, manners, music, or food because from what I’ve seen until now all these things are fine and every person I’ve met have treated me with respect and really friendly; what I’m worried about, is that weird "stabbing thing" that is going on, that I like to call “monthly stabbing tradition”.

If two months go by without someone getting stabbed I quit smoking and I start going to church every Sunday. My cigarettes and "God" as my witness.