CALL TO ARMS - EMERGENCY MEETING OF 'SCARF'

From the Liverpool Echo's site:
http://www.liverpoolecho.co.uk/incoming/gallery/everton-goodison-park-7051684

Right folks, enough is enough. As if Liverpool losing 5-0 to Man City and Everton getting stuffed 4-0 by United over a month ago wasn't enough, just this weekend we've had The Reds being done in by Spurs, 4-1 (at their supposedly 'cursed' Wembley ground), and Everton slumping to a 5-2 defeat at the feet of Arsenal, preceding their manager's exit. This is too troubling to let slide!

I propose an emergency meeting of 'SCARF' - the Scouse Association for Remedying Football - which will have powers to call upon the government to inject millions of pounds into our footy funds, ready for the January transfer window. In addition to this, we will have the initiative to try and bring sanctions against all other clubs, especially the Mancunian ones, for deliberately lacking a sense of humour and 'winning too much'.

Football is a rich and varied sport, full of fantastic athletes, scenes of high drama and, ultimately, families of fans just wanting to enjoy themselves. SCARF will try to fix the current, woeful situation of madness on Merseyside, and bring back some of that 'score goaling' I've heard so much about in other clubs' games.

SCARF president, Maggie McCartney, has commented, "Scousers have often had a different outlook on life, from the rich diversity of cultures that the docks and universities brought into the city, to the way political ideologies - especially those of Mrs Thatcher - have bred a sense of outsiderness in England. Our outlook in football is no different. For many years, Liverpool - especially - have been, if anything, overly concerned with winning. This year, we are seeing a fresh and beautiful expression of playing well and getting no results. It seems, however, that other clubs are stubbornly rolling along with outdated ideas of 'trying to put the ball in the back of the net', ultimately for three points. My organisation will seek to level the playing field any way it can, and, with a little luck, get Scousers back on top."

Theresa May has yet to expand on her earlier comment, "What is a Liverpool?"

Just As Well

You know the drill: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Martin-Palmer5

Sorry blog friends, I'm ill again and not up to producing my usual high standard of blogcraft. I just got over a cold earlier in the month, and had hoped that I had at least enough antibodies to keep me healthy for, oh, I don't know, maybe a bloody fortnight at least... And to top it all [or 'bottom', really], I've just had another session of surgery on my toe nail. It's been pretty painful this last couple of weeks, and I'm sure you'll thank me for not sharing a picture of all the discharge I've been dealing with. Anyway, now that I've completely annoyed and sickened you all with my moaning and disgusting truths, I'd like to take the time to assure that, despite the current situation breeding a 'f*** it' kind of atmosphere - one in which I'd really rather like to crack open a bottle of something strong and unwind in front of an action film - I am still sober. I was even offered a taste of two new beers from Tiny Rebel that came into the shop yesterday, but I turned down even the possibility of spitting it out after tasting, just in case I accidentally swallowed any. 

There was another great opportunity to sling a couple of beers down my neck on Monday, during the Liverpool game against Man U, but I didn't take it. It's interesting, especially since I've talked before about how I perceive alcohol to change the passage of time, that I think the pace of a game [even a big one like that] seemed the same, despite being on Beck's Blue shandy [I had a bottle of the stuff recently that tasted like vomit - yes it was in date - and I wanted to try it with lemonade to try and avoid that awfulness]. The first half seems to go quite slowly. Especially in a game where you are waiting for someone to burst the dam and let the flood waters free, I think. But then the second half rockets by, until about seventy minutes in, then eighty minutes crawls as you're checking the clock to see how likely a goal could be at this stage, to see how long a substitute has to change the game [giving Origi four minutes wasn't inspired. He's a decent enough player to be given longer, but hey, it is what it is now], and whatever else.

I suppose the biggest difference between the drunk and the sober game-watching is probably emotion. You get more vocal when drinking, usually, and of course you can 'forget yourself' a little bit and can get even more absorbed in the game because you're not conscious of so much of the stuff you're usually worrying about. The big thing with the drink is the fact that it's a depressant and, come win, lose or draw, you can find your mood dip after leaving the social circle you've just been enjoying. But I don't want to get too far into this, being as though I find the same thing happens when I'm sober after playing sport [I always assumed it was as the endorphins wore of], or even just on a quiet day one can go up and then very down. That's depression for ya.

It was a tense affair [though some have said 'turgid'], one where efforts by either side to be more proactive in attack could've left spaces in the defense that might've proven a weakness. Had it been a six-goal thriller, I could easily have, without thinking, had big gulps of a beer and ended up drinking lots, so it's just as well the result was goalless. Had Liverpool won, I would've been tempted to celebrate, had it been a loss I might've wanted to drown my sorrows.

Now, if you were to ask me if the result was fair, I'd probably say it was justice. Well...

Day One

Last request

Pictured is the last beer I'll have for a month. It was lovely. Floral and fruity hops zinged, it was cold and refreshing and OH MY GOD I'M THIRSTY AND I WANT A BEER!!! 

Nah, I'm alright really. I didn't force myself to 'make the most' of my 'last night' by getting really drunk, so I didn't wake up with a hangover this morning and things are just normal.

I have to say, this stint of abstinence does feel different to other ones though. Let me explain... I was watching Liverpool play today. I was in my local pub, in my shirt, everything was as it usually is when I go to watch football. Everything but the booze.

I genuinely enjoyed my two colas, I have to say [normally I find one pint is the limit for sickliness, but today I managed two no problem]. The problem was that the lights on the T-bars were shining brighter than usual, the pump clips were all singing their songs of taste temptation with great gusto and the medication I'm taking to reduce exaggeration continued to fail. I was looking at every lager, every ale, and wanting the bitter tingle of hops to sate me down to my core. Then I remembered that I couldn't. And it kept happening... I thought about toasting a Liverpool win with a whisky, but I couldn't. When I normally take a break from alcohol, I'm not troubled, but today I was.

Still, there are many positives. I had a lot of shopping to do after the game, and that wouldn't have gone so smoothly with four pints sloshing around inside me, so that was good. Saved a few pennies, of course [which I'll add up and put toward my JustGiving total at the month's end]. The main thing I want to point out, though, is how generous people have already been. £59.20 so far, and it's only day one! I'd like to say thanks to all the donors so far [I won't name them, in case that makes anyone feel uncomfortable. You know, for Sermon on the Mount reasons]. It cheered me up no end to see your generosity, and it gave me motivation to resist those delicious pints earlier - I won't let you down!

Peace out folks, and here's that link again: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Martin-Palmer5

Haiku a Day - Just A Few Lines

I know I said I wasn't going to write a load of posts about my latest 'annual project' [this year I'm writing a haiku a day. Last year was ‘a line a day’, the year before that 'diary a day'], but I don't think one update will tip anyone over whatever edge they may be on. After all, we have knocked through, rather inelegantly, into the second half of the year already, so it’s the perfect time for a neurotic person to take stock.

I'm still finding that there are some days I don't bother with the regime, and there has been a recent stretch of just over a fortnight where I was behind. Every time I fail and I write about it, I hope that putting my finger on the faults will stop them happening again. That's not happened! The greater wisdom, though, is to accept upsets are inevitable, and, though I wish I wrote 'perfectly' [both in the act of doing and in the words themselves], I have to realise that's just silly isn't it? Suffering comes from wanting things that are impossible, and wanting to change things that are inevitable. So there.

What I'm finding quite exciting is my engagement with 'haikuism', that is, what is a haiku, what are they to me, what makes a good/bad one etc. To me, a haiku isn't strictly the strict 5-7-5. I have tried to write at least one of these a day, before usually going on to do more in a less restrained and, hopefully, more intra-natural way, whether it be traditional or more 'pop-y'. After all, as Kerouac said in American Haikus [1959], it's unusual to think that the structure used in one language should be the same in a different one. Then you have the considerations of nature that are usually found in the traditional ones. I can see their original function, but first off they strike me like rhymes - clichés, wastes of space on the page... Secondly, nature isn't always natural in our lives today. When writing about a street fight, it may be lit more by streetlight than the moon. And maybe the colour of blood is more intriguing than the yellow buzz of halogen. And that's it, you know, I never believe you have to stick to this or that rule. You do what's right for the work. I remember having a conversation about this with someone who said, “'Yeah but it's good to follow the restrictions,” to which I say “It can be” [and we need look no further than OULIPO to make this point]. I mean, hey, sometimes you express something great in fewer syllables. Is that not worth applauding? Since the whole essence of haiku is to be essential, why stick more syllables in just to conform?

The other thing I was on about was what makes a good/bad one. The bad ones I've written are those where, put simply, there's no movement in it, no soul or energy or life or whatever you want to call it – it’s been bent by human hand, not living as if created cosmically. They're just 'this stuff happened, line break, this stuff, line break and this is the end'. Maybe that's over-simplistic, but here's a bad example of mine, from April 2nd:

Red Men keeping lead

'gainst Spurs, what a great result!

then Lovren gifts Kane...

As you can see, it's just exposition. No 'heart' or 'soul', really. I mean, there is a bit of humour. The exclamation mark suggests a finality that is ruined by the curt last line. But it's not good. Here's one of my favourite all time ones by Jack Cain:

 empty room:

one swinging coat hanger

measures the silence

What do you think of that? I think it’s really evocative. It's not just the image that is there in my head, as if I was already thinking about it without reading anything, or maybe even feeling like I'm there, but it's also the 'emotional connotation'. I always got the sense of the loneliness in the room, and it made me feel melancholy. Have I just missed something? Or [this has just come to me] has someone walked out on me? Anyway, that's great in my view. And here's one of my own that I think has turned out alright, just to balance things a little:

ocean's opposite sides:

pensioner waves, baby guggs

and bus rolls on

If you were to ask me about the effect of this year's 'project', I wouldn't speak about it too highly, but there are lots of little positives. It gets you to put pen to paper, it gets you to engage with your surroundings, it has a 'no pressure' [or little pressure, at least] thing about it, y'know, 'ah it's only three lines', which makes it accessible. And you learn a disproportionately great amount about poetry in general from those three lines [although I'm saying that having written hundreds of them...]. You can learn about sounds and rhythm, wordplay [linked heavily with where you 'turn' and also line breaks in general, but also ambiguous words/synonyms], form [more through the restrictions rather than the freedoms, i.e. you might think how you'd do it without the 5-7-5 syllables, or even if there's any point to it, y'know. It's like the mind examines the poetics of it once you're down in the rabbit hole] and, perhaps above all, focusses on the hygiene of what you're doing, the weight of each word, how it holds up after cutting out this and that.

So these aren’t earth-shattering revelations, but I remember the point where I'd written a few and thought 'hey lots of these are shit. All I'm doing is writing, essentially, diary-tic exposition, but breaking the line after five syllables, then after the next seven. It's not haiku, it's practically prose'. And then I started to bring it back to the basics, and asked myself 'what's the image, how's the mood and where's the opportunity for play'? Also, I found that I was beginning with this scene-setting [expositional] line every time, and actually, if I swapped the final line [which was often explanatory/illuminating] for the first, more curiosity was created. It wasn't clear what was going on, you know, there was an ethereality to it, a gas to walk through to try and feel through. And what I found then was that I sometimes wanted to delete the clunky line, and write something that didn't make everything so obvious. Not necessarily intentionally ambiguous, but just shining a light on part of the memory of what I was writing about, giving a fuller flavour of the situation I was in.

Again, it sounds basic, but sometimes I get so far down the road with, say, visual poetry, which, without going into detail, has different focusses than, say, lyric poetry [sorry for the simplicity of this...], that I get amazed all over again at the foundations of another genre. The unifying experience of most poetry I’ve worked on is how you can treat language like a material. Cut it another way, drape it over the back of a chair while you move the rest of it about, then stick it back together in a different order. What I'd like to do is move more towards the 'modern style', where small, mundane things take on an effortless gravity. It's just really cool. The last example of mine [above...] was a bit too self-consciously grand in theme. But we'll see what happens. I'm getting light headed here... Better lie down…

NaNoWriMoWeUp4

Day Twenty-Two: 1,314. Still not doing well to recover my lost average, but this wasn't bad. I would've stuck with it, but I've got an early dentist's appointment tomorrow.
   Almost thought I was going to start in the evening, rather than at night, and then I wouldn't have had this problem, but it's an ongoing process... I'm trying to find consistent will power [or a way of living that'll support whatever sleep cycle I want would be nice!], so fingers crossed.

Day Twenty-Three: 3,543. Nice! Two big bursts [steady now...] have seen me take a chunk out of my deficit [still euphemistic?]. Did the wine help or hinder? Is this the start of better, prolonged practice?
   Who knows!

Day Twenty-Four: 2,042. A bit 'meh'. I was treading water for a bit, struggled for motivation halfway through and had sneezing fits just as I was finding mojo...
   Still, not bad. Only about seven and a half thousand words to go now. Seems the end is in sight...

Day Twenty-Five: 540. More done on the bus. Not ideal.

Day Twenty-Six: 937. I let football take precedence. I feel that going ahead so early with my word count has diminished my drive, which is exactly what I didn't want to happen really.

Day Twenty-Seven: 2,169. Despite a lovely trip to Liverpool [hopefully more on that to follow], found time to crack out a decent amount of content. Hey ho.

Day Twenty-Eight: 376. Wrote with TV on and a phone game being played... It's no wonder I felt like I was banging my head against a wall [please don't try that at home kids. Or anywhere else for that matter...]. Now have to write over my original daily aim [1,667 words] each day to reach the overall goal.
   Down to the wire!

Conspiracy Blown Wide Open

Me trying to add George Harrison's 'It's Johnny's Birthday' - a major piece of evidence in the McCartney cover up - to my Facebook timeline.

You all laughed at me when I told you that Paul McCartney's dead and, in fact, has been since November 1966. Well here's more proof for you; when I tried to share a death clue on Facebook THE CORRUPT ILLUMINATI FREEMASONS IN THEIR IVORY TOWER ORGANISATION BLOCKED ME FROM DOING SO! Why wouldn't they let me put it up? Something to hide, maybe? It's all so clear now...

I can only hope that my superior hacking skills will allow me to publish this post and get past Google's vast network of shadowy McCartney agents that are trying to cover up the truth.

Remember: he never wore his shoes we all know he was dead.

Peace out.

Oh No! It's Another Update Post...

I've got no choice, I had to write this because I was annoyed at myself for doing it again. No, I'm not making a vague Britney Spears reference, I'm talking about my 'line a day' commitment. I've had a couple of patches of leaving it to pile up. Yes, only for three to four days, and yes I caught up easily enough, but why can't I just do it properly? I can't come up with any reasonable excuses for not being able to write one measly diary-style line in a little book each day. I guess it comes down to apathy, more than lethargy or anything else. I've been busy of late, sure, and 'over-indulging' in certain things, but it's my choice at the end of the day [literally at the end of the day, I'm not just wasting words here] when I say 'sod it, I'll do it tomorrow'. Has anyone achieved success by doing that, outside of the field of Procrastination? Ah well. It's been logged and analysed now, so I suppose I can move on.

Other than letting that slip, production's been up lately. I've written a number of poems, including one about kicking a ball, a short story, about unwitting cannibals, and seemed to be on a roll until I tried restoring some papers of mine that were damaged by a leaking radiator [when I say 'restoring', I just mean trying to fathom out what the words were before the ink was washed away]. By sheer luck, the papers affected weren't completely full of writing, so I've not lost a whole book or anything, but one had an interesting and dark short story on it, and the other was part of the Sci-Fi novel I'm working on, so they're important enough. I've found it hard going so far, and may even go into it in further detail later, since it's been an interesting process, but I'll carry on with it after writing this and hopefully get it out the way.

Reading-wise I'm still finding time here and there. Currently enjoying Calum Kerr's wonderful worlds of Flash Fiction - all from his collection of collections The 2014 Flash365 Anthology.

One thing I didn't mind myself indulging in was the latest Storm and Golden Sky, the Liverpool reading series. While in the city, I went to The Bluecoat, visited one of my favourite pubs - The Swan Inn - and found one that had been recommended to me by a Liverpool Museum volunteer that time I went to see the dazzleship at Albert Docks. The pub she said to visit was 'Ye Cracke', just off Hope Street, and lays claim to being where John Lennon set up his 'other band' - The Dissenters - who never played a note. Picked up a copy of The Skinny to read while I had a pint there. Good times.

But the poetry itself was even better. Natasha Borton was reading her work, and I usually rather like it, so there I went to hear her pieces inspired by the tragic intentional flooding of Capel Celyn. Such a wonderfully provocative collection, covering ideas and themes from all angles, going into the history of the town, the post-history [after 'Capel' had been changed to 'Llyn'], the emotions, the images and the sad, sad music sung by the place and the events that happened there. The second reader, John Redmond, was less well known to me, but, as always at SAGS, I was more than merrily surprised by the quality of his work and performance. Fruity babies indeed! Everything seems so right in there, even if the poetry's dark or challenging, it's all groovy. Love it, especially when I get to catch up with some ol' uni pals, and general poetry pals.

I still don't have a job and am running out of savings, so if you have an opening at your place I've got skills ranging from proof reading and editing, through to original content and creative collaboration [as well as boring stuff like pulling pints and making customers happy...]. Still not got my website up and running and, whilst I'm under no illusions that it's going to instantaneously solve all my problems, I still hope it'll create some interest in who I am/what I do [in a career sense].

A bientot, friends!

Impressions of Storm and Golden Sky Seven

Can't believe this has been the seventh SAGS meeting already (sounds a bit Tolkeiny if you lexicise the acronym like that...). I've not been to all of them, but have enjoyed the ones I've gotten to and can say that so far they've succeeded in their aim of creating, "a literary experience felt in your bones as juxtaposition and surprise correspondence." I'm sure they'll continue to do so too. Anyhoo, on with the impressions...

First off, Eleanor Rees read a poem with Welsh flavour in honour of Sophie McKeand's presence. I hope Tom Jenks wasn't upset that a Manchester poem wasn't read in his honour! Joking aside, I very much enjoyed Eleanor's piece. In some ways I'm biased towards poetry that has the sea/seaside as its focus (same goes for whisky. If you want to buy me a bottle, Oban 14 please!). Being from Morecambe, things that genuinely evoke the uniquely harsh beauty found on a shoreline is very poignant for me. Bias aside, her poem's existential themes and delicious sonic qualities added up to make an objectively positive poem.

Next, Mrs McKeand. As something of a linguist, I'm fascinated with language and was impressed with her work. What struck me about her poems was the way they struck hard at the root (please pardon pun) of linguistic ontology, but in a natural way, that is to say, not dryly academic. I would say 'it wasn't stuffy', which is true, nonetheless, but I prefer 'natural', which is more in keeping with the breathing soul of poetry than the textbook. Anyway, I'm going round in circles here... Her use of the Welsh language was subtle and created a compelling conversation on hi/story/-ies.

Next was Mr Jenks. Y'all should know him from his work at The Other Room. His Twitter-based poem demonstrated a more processually experimental bent than the other poetry on offer. I don't know how much I should say, since some of the poetry hasn't been published yet (that's another reason for all of you out there to go to your local readings - new and exclusive content, everyone's dream!). First off - ab-solutely hi-larious. I was actually crying with laughter. I've not done that since... Well... I don't have a soul so I don't normally laugh at anything, apart from perhaps unspeakable evil. Or Matt Baker's one-liners.

Jenks' symphony of surreal imagery, deadpan delivery and sparingly rattly sounds made for a thoroughly entertaining treat for the open mind, a pleasure for the ears and a workout for the yuck-muscles ('yuck' as in 'laugh', not as in 'urgh'). Maybe (well, almost definitely) it's just because I'm a massive fan Beatles fan and went sightseeing around the Cavern Quarter right before going to the reading, but I feel compelled to compare Jenks' part of the night to 'Octopus's Garden'. We were submersed in a colourfully strange world, both comforting and threatening (remember "below the storm") and warmly amusing. So yeah, like 'Octopus's Garden', if it had a social-comment edge possibility, and was actually good (only joking Ringo! Love you really. Ringo?).

Peace and love folks.

Just About

I noticed that twenty people looked at/clicked on my last football post, and that was all I needed to blabber on again about the same topic!

So: Liverpool v Notts County...

We were ahead 2-0 at half time. I was worried we'd switch off. We switched off. They scored, then they equalised.

It's The Capital One Cup, so to extra time we went.

We (finally) scored two more to make it 4-2. We just about made it.

Hard not to make Sturridge man of the match, though many of Gerrard's passes were so sublime he's a close second. Rogers' subs didn't make as much impact as I'd have thought they would, to be fair, but hey, we won.

Well done to Notts County for sticking it to us - we really had to "dig deep" to pull our fingers out our arses and win.

Cancelled Out

Got to see my first game of the new Premier League season today (well, technically yesterday now...). Not a Liverpool game, but I was excited because it featured two top-four heavyweights: Man United and Chelsea.

I didn't think they played at their technical best, nor at their highest tempo, but they definitely made up for it with application. There were a handful of very risky tackles (three or four of them were certainly dangerous fouls - high-speed slides that caught the man first), but apparently there's a new 'emphasis' in the rules that means you get more chances to cripple someone before you're carded. Unless you touch Van Persie, in which case it's a direct red.

Yeah the passing could be quite slow, and, where it was quick, moves seemed (and I stress the word 'seemed', it's not like this slug of an author could ever be an expert in these matters) to come off by accident. That being said, some of the moves came off well with relatively end-to-end play and plenty of scrappy, tooth-and-nail, who-wants-it-more kinda action in-between, where hunger somersaulted over clinicality (apart from RVP's 'Marseille roullette' on the edge of Chelsea's box in the first half) to produce a decent amount of entertainment.

Neither keeper was too busy, Rooney was clear man of the match and a draw is a very fair result. Done.

Liverpool are next playing Notts County in the Capital One Cup, 27.8.2013 1945hrs.

See you in the pub.

Luis Suarez Greatest Hits Collection

New from Troubled World-Class Footballers Productions, the company that brought you such blockbusters as Zany Zidane's 'Nutters Paradise', Eric Cantona's 'Tie My Opposition Fan Down, Sport, That I May Unleash A Kangaroo Kick on His Posterior' and The Balotelli Boys' 'The Fireworks, Anti-Bullying, Failing to Put on a Bib, Silly Car Paintjobs, Chameleon HairJobs, Silly-Trickshots-Not-Coming-Off-With-Rapid-Substitution-In-America, Why Always Me? Album', 'Luis Suarez - Greatest Hits'.

• The collection has all your favourites including:
• Bite Me Baby One More Time
• Put Your Hand on my Balls
• I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Negritoes
• Golden Boot, Pewter Face
• Yellow Card (Is it Me You're Looking For?)
• You've Lost That Respectable Feeling
• What Could I Possibly Do Next?
• Twat Out of Hell
• Scarborough Fair
• I'm Having an Off Day But Will Still Find the Back of the Net (12" Version)

And, who could forget

• If I Could Cheat Back Time

Yes that's right, get ready for a big bloody Suarez fest, right in your ears! Be careful they don't get bitten off by Mr Suarez or his new buddy Mike Tyson. He's one of the world's best footballers and hi-jinkers, so lets forget the controversy and just focus on the good bits: his music.

RRP: Your soul.

Patricia Farrell and Andrew Taylor Reading

I'm so excited for this. I may be more excited for this than I'd be if Steven Gerrard offered to suck my toes. This coming Saturday it is. I've heard both Patricia Farrell and Andrew Taylor reading before, and they're both great. It's an interesting mix as well, in the sense that they're quite different, so it'll be nice to seem 'em together.

Anyways, I'm rambling on. The event is being held in The Ship and Mitre, Liverpool (133 Dale Street, L3 2JH). Saturday 23rd of this month, 1400-1600hrs. Hope to see you there, you'll like it I'm sure.

If you want to read a bit about the poets and their work, as well as more info on the event, check out Robert Sheppard's blog Pages.

Here be The Ship and Mitre's site, looks like a cool place (and not just because of the real ale and rum). It doesn't actually have the details of the event (that I can see) but you've got the link to Pages for that.

The poets are also mentioned on the writing group Written Inc's page here.

Ta-ra!

Free Flowing, They Said. Free Scoring, They Said...

Being doomed to have work shifts fall on just about every Liverpool game this season, I was as excited as an American at a gunsmiths to get the chance to watch some of the African Cup of Nations today. When I saw Tunisia were playing Algeria on ITV4 I got giddy and imagined all the blistering pace, stunning technical ability and goals that were about to float my boat. What a let-down. Very reminiscent of having sex with me, in fact.

There was one goal, saving it from being the worst game I've ever seen, but that came after ninety-two minutes of football. Yeah not every African nation can be the Ivory Coast, but I was incredulous at how sloppy the play was. So many passes either failed to find their man or were hit way too hard. The level of awareness was shocking too, incisive passes weren't even tried because players seemed over-keen on either going it alone or passing to someone a metre away. I just wondered if they were actually scared of scoring, since simple forward movement was eschewed for small side-to-side or backward passes. This is very different to, say, Liverpool's play. They focus on keeping possession and keeping the ball on the ground, but when they pass backward it's (sometimes) snappy, so the opposition are chasing ghosts. I'm sure to get plenty of hate now for using Liverpool as an example of how to play good football, but hey!

Sure the referee didn't help the game's case. The players fell over at slight touches and he bought it completely. That's excusable because he can't help that people are trying to dupe him. What really took the biscuit was giving a foul for basically every time two players challenged for a ball in the air, whether there was serious contact or not. It seemed at times the game was stopped more than it was actually going. If you added up the stoppage time properly, I think it probably came to about another half.

Anyway, I'm sure the rest of the tournament will be great. Didn't get to see the Togo v Ivory Coast game but I hear it was much more exciting.

Next I'll probably get to writing something awesome, that you might actually want to read. I had a couple of friends saying they wanted to read something dark I wrote a long time ago, but I'll have to do a bit more soul searching and drinking before I do...

Peace out.

Ooookay

So, not much to write about today (why bother then) - who said that? Erm, yeah I've been really busy with uni work and also had to cover a shift at work yesterday meaning I had even less time. I think I'm on track though... Have had to sacrifice a night out with friends to be on the safe side (oh boo-hoo) - seriously who keeps doing that? As I was saying, I'm trying to be sensible so everything's done in plenty of time. Turns out my post '+ve' is all a lie too, so that's a little disappointing (aww diddums) - hey! Stoppit.

Good stuff... good stuff... Oh yeah, Liverpool beat Norwich 5-0 today, pretty impressed by that. Didn't get to see it of course... but hey. I guess that's the power of football, I still felt good about the score and the way we played just by reading text commentary (you only like winning because you're such a loser) - cut that out! Seriously, don't make me come down there.

Also feeling good about going back to uni next week. It's a very good place to be. Some good events coming up, looking forward to the next workshop, so that's pretty groovy.

Yep, that's about it. Feel free to unsuscribe at any point by the way. I don't want you to but, y'know, I can't force you to carry on...

Catch you later folks.

Nice One!

Liverpool 1 - Manchester United 1

What a bloody brilliant game today! Despite a goalless first half and then a draw at the end of it, I think the overall match was great and very entertaining. We deserved to win, to be fair, and it was surprising that we didn't but, as Stevie G said post-match, to get a point from the champions of the league is a decent result.

Liverpool dominated in every aspect but, as seems to be an unfortunate trend sometimes, the scoreline. Possession, shots and more were in our favour, but still it was a 'well worked' (and not at all jammy) header from United's Javier Hernandez that denied us our rightful three points. You could argue that Steven Gerrard's free-kick goal was a bit soft, but all I can say is that if you can't get the basics of a wall right (i.e. stick together so you actually block the ball from the keeper), then you don't deserve to have won the Premier League... The way we continue to be treated by referees is, as usual, disappointing but (after the mention of two or three hand-ball decisions being ignored in the box, our goal kick being given as their corner - which they scored from - and a missing yellow card) the less said about that the better!

I think Stevie G deserved man of the match, but Luis Suarez was in with a good shout again. He seems tireless and nearly found the back of the net numerous times. He has such a natural talent, I just hope he realises that and doesn't beat himself up that he hasn't scored. I feel so giddy! The heartbeat of LFC back for ninety minutes, scoring his first goal of the season against the old enemy was simply amazing. The usually underrated Dirk Kuyt had a fine chance too, and the fact he didn't score is more a credit to United's keeper De Gea than it is a discredit to Liverpool.

Keep it up lads, YNWA!

P.S. A long overdue shout out to Matt, hope your own Merseyside team is inspiring you as much as mine is!

Yes, Man!

I've been feeling lately like I'm stuck in a rut. Stuck in some superglue whilst putting together a model of the Millennium Falcon. Stuck, perhaps, in some chewing gum I just sat in on public transport. However and wherever I was stuck, I've felt like needing to shake things up a bit, to stop sitting in the gum and run forward until the sticky gum tendrils snap and I am free.

So yesterday I had a full day at uni, but instead of sitting back and relaxing after this, I went forward. Though it wasn't part of my course, though it wasn't free, I said a big 'yes' to the opportunity to see past Edge Hill Short Story Prize winners read out their work at the Bluecoat in Liverpool and have a discussion on short story writing. The two prize winners to attend were Graham Mort (Touch) and Tom Vowler (The Method).

Unfortunately, Mr. Vowler had to drop out due to illness, but Graham more than made up for this by reading out some of his poetry in the first half. I think the thing that struck me the most was the rhythm of his poetry. I appreciated the considered approach and how his exploration of an image groped forward to an interesting and thought-provoking point. His short story 'The Lesson' (from Touch) was very evocative in a sensual way, with focus on sexual relations, pervading pungent smells, the caress of the sea and so on. It made me think of life as a series of strings, leading to and from a person, so fragile and hardly noticeable that secrets and turmoils are almost necessary (at least for the characters in the story).

All in all, a fantastic experience to see such a master at work again. Imagine where I'd have been if I'd said 'nah, too tired tonight'. Stuck on a sofa with so much gluey crap feeling sorry for myself. Say 'yes' more, embrace life, you only get one!

For the Love of Liverpool!

I've been through this post a few times in my mind. There is, after all, a lot to say about Liverpool's performance against Spurs today. It has, however, come to my attention that there's really only one way to express the latest trip to White Hart Lane.

We had six yellow cards (a few of them baffling) versus their one - despite them having nearly double the fouls -, two of our players being sent off and none of theirs, our bewlidering lack of ability to maintain possession, run with the ball (instead of passing back) shoot, pass etc and, 'more importantly' their four goals against nil. Despite the well-earned credit I give to Tottenham today, the only way this reds fan can sum up the action is with this picture:

Liverpool's On Fire!

Liverpool FC, that is. Today they cruised comfortably to a 3-0 win over Newcastle, though their performance was not perfect, it must be admitted.

The first goal came thanks to Newcastle defender Danny Simpson's deflection, otherwise Tim Krul would almost definitely have saved it. The second goal came thanks to Luis Suarez going down pretty easily under pressure from Mike Williamson in the box. Penalty awarded, Dirk Kuyt continued his fine form by totally beating Krul and finding the back of the net. To be fair to Suarez here, though, he had 'good' opportunities to dive that he didn't take, so well done for being a sportsman. The third goal came from the aforemention Uraguayan after Dirk gave him the chance to score from up close.

One lad who'll have plenty to say about this is an ardent Newcastle supporter and close personal friend Arran who has just started writing for a NUFC blog. Check that out at www.nufcblog.co.uk

Peace out!

Liverpool 5 Birmingham 0

The score says it all.

Power!

Haha yes, my friends, POWER! 'The man' has recently been trying to screw me for nigh on £400 for water (H2 flipping O), of all things. What did I do? Roll over and pay? Not on your life. Ask to be billed for a greater amount? Hell no! Eat the bill with a sauce that is a cross between Marie Rose and Hollandaise sauce and a side order of curly fries? Well... No. Sounds quite nice though...

Yeah so I've saved a helluva lot of money from these fatcats.

Liverpool had a fantastic last match. It was a Dirk sandwich as Andy Carroll made an excellent contribution with two goals, the first and the third, and the dutchman netting the second of the night with trademark reliability. Carroll got man of the match, but I certainly think Dirk Kuyt was on the shortlist, always putting in at least 110% every game. Still, well done Carroll and also John Flanagan who made his Premier League debut on the night.

The rest of today's gonna be good, doing a lot of reading and writing so all's well. Things are so awesome I've had to listen to Verdi's 'Anvil Chorus' to calm me down!

Adieu!

P.S. Hi Jess! xxx