The Coin.

I'm one of those people who only really look at coins when I'm bored. Coins aren't that interesting, you wouldn't necessarily look intently at a coin before you hand it over to the impatient cashier in your local corner shop. But, alas, I rummage through my pocket whilst waiting in a shop and see something peculiar in my 50p coin. I'm no coin expert-- certainly with no qualifications to make such conclusion but there was a sort of cartoon in my coin...

To this, my brother's initial reaction is to shout out "It's fake!" in a public place. Of course. Upon looking closer, I realise it's the 2011 coin.

My first logical thought was that I had somehow time travelled to the next year!

No, I had not.

But the 2011 coin is still awesome, I have a future token.

The Travesty.

While strolling around the streets of Walthamstow, with my phone clutched securely in my hand, I think of how a traditional Christmas should be spent. I mean, the word 'traditional' itself contradicts it's own meaning because it would be different for everyone. I thought I would make something a bit more 'Christmas'-sy.

[it's safe to say I'm completely obsessed with the hipstamatic app, forgive the profuse amount of visuals]

So, here's an actual article from the New Yorker which was... very interesting.

An analysis of more than a hundred thousand documents recently leaked by a disgruntled elf has revealed several surprising facts about the North Pole’s most famous citizen.

· Santa and several top elves colluded to circumvent a ban on Chinese-made toys, despite pressure from the North Pole community to deliver only toys made locally.

· Santa has, over the years, acted to undermine potential successors, privately disparaging one of his nephews as “lazy,” another as “not really committed to the whole Christmas thing,” and yet another as “incapable of growing a beard of the appropriate size, if you know what I mean.”

· Senior North Pole officials were astonished when an elf in Santa’s cabinet proposed halting a long-standing program monitoring pouting and crying. “For years, we’ve been telling people that they’d better not do this,” one said in a confidential cable, “and now we’re removing all restrictions? What’s next? Decriminalizing the failure to watch out?”

· After Santa suffered a serious hip injury, in the late seventies, the Prime Minister of Norway offered him access to several chimneys to conduct entrance and egress exercises.

· A reported mixup in 2004 that brought eleven-year-old Jack Keller, of Seattle, a book of math games instead of a football was not accidental: Santa was sending a message.

· During home visits last Christmas, Santa spied on the C.E.O.s of several Fortune 500 companies, and collected personal data including but not limited to credit-card and frequent-flier numbers.

· The song “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” has more basis in truth than was previously thought; elves worried for years about Santa’s philandering, which began to decrease only recently, after Mrs. Claus discovered an illicit text message from an Arizona school-board member.

· Santa doesn’t enjoy going to certain St. Louis suburbs. “They just give me the creeps,” he told one top elf.

· Most cookies left out for Santa end up being fed to the reindeer.

· In 2007, Santa suppressed the delivery of gifts to more than a thousand residents of Los Angeles as a result of his displeasure with the movie “Fred Claus.”

· Just this year, Santa accepted a payment of twelve million dollars to keep Charlie Sheen on the “nice” list.

· A potential environmental disaster was kept secret by the North Pole in 2008, after a large bag filled with painted blocks from Vietnam fell from Santa’s sleigh into the Anglezarke reservoir, in Lancashire, raising fears of lead contamination. Elves with scuba gear and flashlights were sent in to retrieve the blocks under cover of night.

· Contrary to popular belief, Santa cannot really tell when you’re sleeping or when you’re awake, but he will fly into a rage if his ability to do so is questioned. ♦

SOURCE

Merry Christmas.

The Mental Health Concern.

While music plays a major part in my life, listening to the same song 233 times is certainly worrisome for me. What if Lykke Li has hidden some subliminal message in this song that commands people to do evil things, therefore, allowing her to take over the universe with her awesome music? I'd be no use, but others should be warned about this abomination.

The Flight of Icarus

A long time ago in ancient Greece there lived a famous mechanic by the name of Deadalus. On a visit to the island of Crete the king of the island King Minos became very upset with him and ordered him locked up in a tower that faced the sea. Daedalus managed to escape from this tower with the help of his son Icarus only to be caught and imprisoned once again! Several times he tried to bribe himself onto a vessel and escape but every time he failed, as King Minos had a strict edict for all ships to be carefully searched upon departing from the island of Crete.

Deadalus's spirit however could not be subdued and the genius artist said to his son, "The King may control the land and the sea yet he does not control the sky, we must escape from the sky!" Deadalus told his son to collect all the gulls feathers he could find from the beaches around Crete and bring them to him. Deadalus then melted wax forming the skeleton of a bird's wings to which he would attach the feathers. He then took all the feathers tying the large one's to the skeletal structure, and pressing the small one's into the wings.

When Deadalus had completed the wings he placed them on his back and oh to his surprise! Deadalus rose high above the ground and as he flapped his wings he soared through the heavens. Deadalus then quickly made another set of wings, smaller than his own for his son. His son's wings though smaller were constructed far better and appeared more elegant, they were fitting for the son that he so dearly loved.

On a clear day Deadalus decided it was time to teach is son how to fly. He told the boy to mimic the birds in their actions, to be graceful and to not beat the wings too heavily. As Icarus put on the wings he sailed far out above the sea flying up high and then diving low above the sea like a child with a new toy.

Deadalus watched his son with concern as he knew that the wings were far from a toy. He called on his son and as his son returned he told him, "Son, it is time for us to attempt our escape, you must stay by my side, never venturing far away, as if you fly to low your wings will become damp from the fog, if you fly to high the wax on the wings will melt from the sun." Icarus smiled at his father and told him that there was no reason for him to worry.

Soon Deadalus and Icarus flew high above the land and the people of Crete watched in amazement as they thought they were witnessing the flight of Gods. On occasion Deadalus would look back towards his son making sure that all was fine with his son. As they flew above the sea they came upon Samos and Delos to their left.

Icarus became excited feeling the wind run through his hair and he began to beat his wings wildly which made him go higher and higher. Deadalus yelled at his son, "Stop, you are going to high your wings will melt!" Icarus was to far from his father and could hear nothing his father said, instead he beat his wings faster and faster going ever higher into the sky. Deadalus tried to follow his son but alas his wings were far heavier and would not allow him to soar as high as his son.

The sun began to beat down on the wings of Icarus, and slowly they began to melt. Icarus noticed the wings coming apart, but in his joy kept on beating the wings faster and faster bringing him ever further towards the sun. Soon all the feathers had fallen from the wings of Icarus and the boy plunged down into the Aegean Sea.

Deadalus looked for his son, but he was nowhere to be seen. He then looked down at the sea and his heart broke as he saw the feathers of his son's wings floating on the sea. Deadalus dove towards the sea snatching his son's body out of the water but alas it was too late. Deadalus carried the body of his son as both their feet dragged on the sea below, as a result of the great weight now placed on his wings by the two bodies they now supported. Deadalus took the body of his son and buried it on an island called Icaria in his son's memory.

Deadalus then flew for one last time to the island of Sicily. In Sicily he made a temple to the God Apollo, and in the temple he hung the wings as an offering to the god never to fly again.

SOURCE

Hey, It's Snowing.

The Train of Thoughts

By the time a person reaches a certain age, their thoughts and words are limited. The things they longed to explore like pirates and zombies, robots and unicorns slowly dissipated until fully being deteriorated. The person starts thinking more realistically and calculating things that would surely benefit them in the future. Things like being an astronaut or climbing up the Empire State Building to re-enact that scene from ‘King Kong’ are halted because they are completely unachievable.

Right?

The Epicness.

In the 27th of November, 2010; A 15 year old boy stands up and delivers one of the most thought-provoking speeches I've ever heard in my life.

MUSIC DOA.

Music is dying.

Music is dead!

It's a friday afternoon, last period. My English class is almost empty, so empty that only three tables had people sitting on them. Everyone is tired. Exams are finishing. There is no point in this lesson. Everyone complains; students that just had exams; students that just spent the whole night revising from the exam they just had; the teacher who had to run her way frantically from the other side of the building to find a mere amount of students uninterestedly waiting in her classroom.

It doesn't seem like a lesson will take place.

One, bright student with short blonde hair and spectacles stands up and suggests that we watch a movie instead. Everyone groans. I bury my face in a tattered copy of 'To Kill A Mockingbird', reading the same sentence for the third time.

Another student, makes his way to the computer and starts playing songs that have repetitively tortured the human race in the radio. The teacher grumbles about the fact that music is dying. Is this what you kids listen to these days? I was under the impression that everyone in the 70s listened to 'The Ramones' and smoked any plant in sight but I would guess this assumption is inaccurate.

The Blackeyed Peas' rendition of 'Time of my Life' blasts through the room and it certainly looks like the teacher is about to rip the speakers apart. It's like no one knows what 'Rhythm and Blues' stands for anymore. I was under the impression this has changed steadily into 'Rhythm and Beat.'

A few minutes later and the student with the short blonde hair and spectacles is back, clutching two DVDs in her hand. There's only two. The first one was 'Little Miss Sunshine' and I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming, because it's one of the best films I've seen in a while. The second option is 'Grease'. I have no idea what the second film was about, the extent of my knowledge is that John Travolta is somewhere in it. The teacher explains how she hated 'Grease' because it was 'all about sex'.

Everyone voted to watch 'Grease.'

Music itself can't be categorised into one thing exclusively, as everything evolves and progresses, a lot of newer genres are created. 'Grease' itself could be considered controversial for it's time.

But, we all need to remember, Rocky Horror Picture show came out before Grease.

The robot that walked into a bar.

"Hey! I want some drink!" It bellowed in a completely blatant computer generated voice. The audio quality was very good, I give it that much.

The Bad Christian.

Isn't it more 'blashphemous' to go to church against your own will than not go at all?

Today, I realise that a lot of people (including myself) treated the church as a musical. An ongoing musical that goes on every single week and tells us a small portion of Jesus' life. Then there's the singing.

I am in no way mocking the church, catholicism or christianity. I've learnt in school that the building itself isn't the church, but rather the people that congregates to celebrate God and even more to take part in a Eucharist.

But as I decided to look very carefully, around the church and to the people that surrounded us. How many of them actually wanted to be there? Not just as a favour to the church or because they wished to be confirmed and, therefore, decided to show their faces for a few Sundays. Not just the children who are being dragged by their parents every morning as a sort of ritual from fear of going to hell. Not just for the crying babies or the loud ringing of phones.

Upon realising I have no answer, I've concluded that I am a bad christian.

The Principles of Snow.

Ice + Ground= Disaster

Ice + Ground + Utmost Concentration= Alive

Ice + Ground + Utmost Concentration + Distraction= Slip + Alive (*Sob*)

Goldilocks.

I was totally going to revise, thus, I open my doodle book to do some complicated mathematical equations. However, upon opening this I find a story I wrote about a year ago. I can't even take ANY credit for this at all. There are several (if not everything) characters of which I do not own. This is basically a mash up of different stories. I wrote this for my own entertainment, and yes it still does entertain me.

Goldilocks had that whole blonde phase going on. Well, logically speaking that "phase"would be her life so far. Such a narcissistic stage as Goldilocks kept admiring her golden locks (get it?) in every shiny surface that she would encounter. However, the superficial fascination got gradually replaced— or directed— towards monkeys. And not just the Curious George sort of monkeys— I'm talking about a cross over between King Kong and Godzilla.

Dumbest thing to be fascinated with, really (with the exception of vampires) because it's quite hard to gain access to those sort of monkeys (or any monkey). So she just decided to pay a visit to the local zoo. Upon realising she was broke, unemployed and homeless she became a governess for some mysterious guy's kid in Thornfield Hall with such things that she found quite peculiar.

The mysterious owner however was not just the safe, creepy stalker kind of weird. He doesn't go out in mornings and he's usually up by midnight. Perhaps he was allergic to the sun? Or suffering from a really bad jetlag...

So, one day she chose to confront him and ask what his deal was. Creeping up slowly from the not too big/ not too small bed (that really belongs to the little bear) she glides ungracefully down to the scary, dark hallway of the house. Each step of her bare foot against the creaky, wooden surface of the floor creating an-angry-machine-gun-going-berserk-like noises. Goldilocks felt sad that she couldn't give that super swift ninja impression she had wanted to give out.

BAM!

Goldilocks collided with something— or rather someone that she lost balance, and gravity did its things that sent her crashing on the creaky wooden floor.

Then that totally awesome thing happened, like in the movies with the camera slowly pans and reveals the mystery person ever so slowly, making you bite your nails in anxiety or bury your face in the pillow waiting for the loud shriek... Dun, dun, dun...

It was that-guy-who-was-totally-in love-with-Olivia-from-Twelfth-Night-but-not-Duke-Orsino-you-know-that-other-servant-guy-who-wore-yellow-tights. She gasped, squinted for a few seconds and kept walking when the dude started to freak her out.

***

He stopped thinking about it. He had absolutely stopped thinking about it. Except he was thinking about it. Couldn't take it anymore, the words felt like they were bubbling up, sneaking their way to the tip of his tongue like a bad after taste from a garlic based dish.

"You have lettuce stuck in your teeth."

And he said it. It was painful and he knew he could never take those words back however much agonising nights her would spend in his bed hiding under his blanket; the hurt look on that lettuce-stuck-on-teeth-face made him feel like a bad person.

This has nothing to do with Goldilocks.

***

So, anyways, Goldilocks is skipping in the forest merrily when suddenly there was a resonating growl from somewhere. She stops, because that's the smart thing to do in these sort of situations— oh my gosh! A cheetah jumps on her!

It was actually a dream because she's suddenly sitting up on her not-too-big/not-too-small bed that belongs to the little bear— I think we need to skip this bit when I'm describing her bed, I don't have enough paper-space. Oh, back to Goldilocks.

She doesn't feel happy because she really, really wanted to know the mysterious owner dude's secret but she has to wait for another night because he's never truly awake in daylight.

So she spent the morning contemplating on how to approach him. Also, with some daydreaming on the side, but mostly the approach thing.

Whilst she strode around that cold, damp day it didn't seem like any eventful things was to happen. Nope, just another normal day of pretending to be working when people are looking. And then so more daydreaming. But mostly the work thing.

Goldilocks felt like she was kind of stuck in that half awake/ half not awake kind of sloshed feeling because she zones out completely.

ZOOM!

A flash of blue and some other colour in her peripheral vision. I know it's quite shocking and unpredictable right now that the things that has the primary colour of blue and quite literally zoomed right in her face was non other than out favourite super awesome, super hero which is... TURN TO THE NEXT PAGE TO FIND OUT THAT IT'S——

the end.

I hold the tickets and you pay the fines.

"I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall."

I feel like I shouldn't like this song at all, but I love it so.

Fireworks

Unbelievably-ear-shatteringly-extraordinarily-breathtaking

Fantastic.

Colloquialism.

Aliens vs Dragons.

ftw.