A random blog post

So there’s a weakness in my recent “I am going to blog more frequently” plan. Uhm; what to blog about. I’m not doing anything very exciting at the moment. (I am mostly teaching myself Adobe Illustrator at the moment but I trust that won’t fascinate anyone?)

I have a theory though. The only answer to a block is to start doing it anyway: play with your materials, whether they be paint, words or musical notes. What results might not be brilliant but it will gradually break the paralysis. I still needed a subject though so I turned to the internet to tell me what to write about. I googled ‘random blog topic generator’ and lo, there are such things. I opened the first three, here, here and here.

The temptation, indeed the instruction on one of the generators, is to keep pressing the button until you get something you fancy writing about but I thought that might be a bit dangerous. It might not go on infinitely; the generator might suddenly emit a big sigh and stop producing ideas because nothing could please me. So I decided I’d press each of the generators once and then I’d have to choose from one of those topics.

The first one gave me: “One of my favourites is Bagels.” One of my favourite what? And why the capital letter? Is Bagels a place I haven’t heard of? I let out a big sigh and clicked the next tab.

The second one was: “Aristotle’s philosophy” Oh dear. This is somewhat shaky territory. In my dim and distant past is a classics degree. So dim and distant that I can remember almost nothing and Husband has been petitioning me for years to return my degree certificate to the university. Today, though, I search around in my head and ‘Nichomachean Ethics’ appears; my mouth goes dry and I feel a bit faint. I go and have a look at Wikipedia. After consideration I’ve decided that I haven’t forgotten it, I’ve actually suppressed it and for very good reason.

I move on to the third randomly generated topic: “What do you think of your children?” Crumbs. We’re on really hazardous ground with that subject. What I think of my children is that they know how to find my blog and that’s all there is to say on that subject.

Still, I’ve written a blog post huh?

On truths and history lessons

We went to see Clash of the Titans over the Easter weekend. We’d missed the 3D showing but yeaahhhh, it was okay; I didn’t look at my watch... Our expectations weren't high as we’re not getting out much as the moment with the Red Shirts causing all kinds of chaos throughout Bangkok.

Sam Worthington, Perseus in the film, has been widely quoted as describing it as a movie about "… a guy on a winged horse in a skirt with rubber swords battling monsters.” It is, he said, a "fun, boisterous popcorn movie. We're under no illusions, it's not a history lesson."

In spite of this, watching the film took me back to 1985 and my interview at Hull University. I spent the whole of the train journey to Hull reading the myth of Perseus. I was preparing to persuade the Department of Classics to give me a place on their degree programme based entirely on two holidays in Greece and my father telling me Greek myths as bedtime stories throughout my childhood. Oh, I had A’Levels too, just not in anything very relevant.

At my interview, Dr Hilton was lovely, asking me lots of questions about my A Levels, what I was doing with my gap year and what I’d seen while on holiday in Greece. (One of these excursions had been a school trip where we HAD seen all the important sites – the other was a beach holiday!) Then as we finished up, he said “Did you come up by train? Did you see the bridge?” I didn’t know what he was talking about as I’d spent the train trying to cram myths into my head so I could talk knowledgeably to my interviewer but I kind of felt this was important. His eyes sparkled; it was the way he said ‘the bridge’ that gave me a clue, more like ‘The Bridge.’ ‘Yes’ I said, hoping for a bit more information. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ Dr Hilton said. ‘Very,’ I said, nodding.

Anyway, bless them, they gave me a place and I knew I was going to love it there.

I got back on the train at Hull Paragon station to return to London and with no more pressure to cram, sat gazing out of the window. Into my view came a bridge. The Bridge. It got bigger and bigger and bigger as we passed right by it.

 

The Humber Bridge held the world record for the longest single span suspension bridge for seventeen years. Its presence crossed the last major unbridged estuary in Britain. The towers were 155 metres high and its span 1,410 metres and a total of 480,000 tonnes of concrete were used to build it.

Phew, thank god for the bluff.