The Last Night

So last night I had an interesting experience, admittedly a bit bushed I climbed into bed around half ten, tired but feeling ok…and seconds later proceeded to have what I instantly thought was a heart attack/stroke.

…my chest felt heavy, my heart started beating faster and suddenly my entire right side went numb, then my whole body cramped and contracted in on itself involuntarily (extreme continuous Myoclonus – quite possibly the single most interesting and terrifying feeling I have ever experienced.

If I could have laughed I would have, as the first thing I thought of upon viewing the amazingly taut position of my fingers was an episode of House (Half-Wit) where a piano player experiences Myoclonic contractions in his hands.

Unable to even reach for a phone or call for help properly, I spent the next two hours (and boy it felt like a long and lonely time, but not a full two hours – I’m still surprised at that) fighting with my breathing to pull my body back into shape until finally I managed to calm myself down, un-cramp my right hand and call an ambulance.

Being that I live on the third floor of my house it was certainly a hilarious situation that I had to come down three flights of stairs and open the door for my rescuers to assist me (keeping in mind that I was paralyzed in bed and had to tenderly shimmy my leg muscles into action) – and even more so that they were acting annoyingly bored, and in no rush to help.

So a trip to the Royal Victoria hospital occurred after I insisted that at twenty three years old, this was a serious matter worthy of at the very least, an ECG (Echocardiogram) – and after a few blood tests, and other assorted screenings including a chest x-ray I was astonished to be told that I had a viral infection which (in my weakened state from having not had too much sleep and basically being run down) had taken the opportunity to play havoc with my immune system…which in turn decided to attack me. Coupled with the hyperventilation, a panic attack and the sheer shock that ensued it was added that I probably made the matter worse unintentionally.

Awesome…

Apparently the infection had been lying dormant within my system for a week or so, perhaps more, and that now I was “ok” – “take these antibiotics for seven days, get some sleep and you’ll be fine.”

To say I was shocked (had a lot of shocks during the night looking back on it) at the result is quite the understatement, as a mere six hours earlier I thought that was it – adios.

Thinking that seven days worth of antibiotics will sort out what I thought nearly killed me is strange, flippant even.

Well, at least it wasn’t Swine Flu.

Some Have A Theory

I’m as sharp as a broken teacup right now.

What a delirious seven days of random quantum entanglements with other particle groups…

It is highly probable that I will point back to this last week often in the future, using events from it as the base evidence on which wholesale ideas for the calm control of one’s inner self can be formed.

All This Nationalism Malarky…

Only in a world were the most arrogant species on the planet had the audacity to claim land for its own over its own kind, and that of others – thus creating countries – could the idea of being proud of one’s national heritage become such a political power tool of injustice.

I’m all for being proud of national events, such as in sport, or of a unified perseverance against adversity – however despite my perhaps flippant use of the phrase “I’m happy and proud to be from Northern Ireland” – which, I genuinely am in my own rather simple way – it matters little against the bullshit and atrocities that have been committed in her name.

I like being from here because of the people I know, the mild weather and our humour – not to mention the accent.

Our history has nothing to do with it, because it is not my history – and I can tell you now that it is not your history either. It belongs to your parents and their parents, and so on.

Much like the British National Party’s (name if you want to make a start somewhere) pride in their country – any nationalism could well lay claim to being the most utterly stupid use of broad stroke ‘community’ that ever has or will exist.

“Our country is a great nation because of what it has accomplished in the past!” – yes, I am sure it is.

Although (to generalise) every other country – for eternity – will disagree with you because the concept is fundamentally broken, much like religion, politics and public relations. We invented them long before we really knew what we were getting into.

…I feel like most people don’t realise that we, and not Earth itself, or some deity, drew all the little lines and borders all over this planet, and that they have moved drastically over the last two thousand years alone.

So who am I to truly champion if I were so inclined?

…certainly not Britain, nor even the Romans.

Perhaps I should just accept that the mess of drawn lines and stolen ownership we created in our innate greed so many years ago is just another example of our appetite for creation before understanding.

Being honest, I admire anyone who has the man-stones to stand up and speak their opinions on such a public forum as Question Time – for all his faults Nick Griffin certainly has passion; because he must have known what he was walking into. His passion however is not what people question him on, and with the volatile and corruptible filter that is ‘politics’ in the frame, I would have to question what Griffin’s true opinion started out as, and how far it has been guided and warped by that of the political forum.

…perhaps it was indeed driven by a want to improve the populace of England (let’s not be subtle here, the British National Party at its core is not thinking of Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales), bore from watching its economic and political decline on a global scale. I can understand that, despite disagreeing.

Or, it may just be that in a modern world there is still room for people who just dislike their fellow man. I can understand that too, despite thinking it disgusting.

Whatever the case, I do hope that people will make the correct choice – and vote for what they believe in.

Baste Radiation

A Plastic Rose helped re-open Belfast City Hall with a bang on Saturday night, driving home their energetic set to the young crowds with more than just a touch of panache.

It made me think of a utterly pointless yet fun question – if a baste drums in the woods, do all the other bastes still hear it?

It was a storming gig, and a brilliant weekend in total for the lads after Hard Working Class Heroes the day previous.

Kinds Words & The Like

This last week has been brutally exhausting, on many levels – which those closest to me will certainly understand.

I’ve had the pleasure of receiving many kind words, and during the course of the weekend discovered two things that are very apparent about myself…

…firstly that my enthusiasm betrays me. I can’t hide the fact that my threshold for getting excited far surpasses what most people will accept before it becomes annoying – as happens when too much of anything, good or bad, appears. Secondly but by no means less important – perhaps more so – I have a lot of love for a great many people, and that love is very genuine.

To take a leaf from the ethos of Frank Turner (at the expense of talking about him yet once more time too many) I am incredibly appreciative of the friends that I currently have, the work that I do and where it all may go. I hope they understand that they mean the world to me, and that every day I get to spend with them where I seem annoyingly excited, it is because that love does not diminish.

I used to think that a lot of the innocent vision that I had in the beginning was slowly, but consistently striped away by the general relationships we have over the years (and sometimes I don’t think we genuinely realise the emotional damage we inflict on each other – it pains me to see it, chipping away at people)…

…and then I met all the wonderful people I currently work with and understood that I haven’t lost my passion for life.

That whatever happens it drives me on, relentlessly.

It is human nature to impress thoughts and ideas on to others. An arrogant, selfish part of ourselves that is, always has been and always will be bred into us.

We are brought up with the understanding that if the dog bites us, it is in the wrong – even if we provoke it. It is that in-built arrogance (that unfortunately just cannot be de-programmed from our species as it is such an important part of our personalities – because it gives us both the best and the worst of ideas) that scares me the most – because quite simply, I have a lot of thoughts and ideas which I would like to present to the world. That I think it needs to hear.

Yet I don’t want to impose upon it. I hide it, fearing my own personality’s selfish nature.

In years to come I hope that someone can hold up my work and say something good about it…

I hope they say that I helped.