Percival – The Purpose of Knights

Around the 5^th Century AD the Roman Empire began to shrink and eventually collapsed. Most believe it had grown too large, attacked from all sides it became impossible to defend. In its dying years the Empire broke in half with two Emperors ruling the East and West, yet still badly governed. The people of Britain looked to Rome for reinforcements against the invading warriors, but help would never come. This was the time of stories about Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

The Dark Ages were named because of the lack of written material that survived, which in turn was largely because most Britons could not write. Early poems like ‘Gawain & The Green Knight’ or Malory’s book ‘Le Morte Darthur’, widely thought to be Arthur in his truest form, were not completed till the 14^th & 15^th century. Before this the legends of Camelot were told by word of mouth and possibly 1500 years later we still tell these stories to children. The stories themselves became a living, breathing thing; with each storyteller bringing a new and interesting message or spinning its tale to meet their own agenda. The constant in each telling are the values of bravery and looking after those who need our help.

When I was a kid, my Aunt gave me a book about the Knights of Camelot. My favourite character was Percival; he was not born into a noble house, instead raised in the wild forests of Wales by his mother. He was impulsive, angry, a nervous chatter. Percival was never meant to be a Knight he just killed a bully and robbed his armour. Here was me angry at myself with any failings, whether it be learning stuff or loosing a running race. Frustrated with all the injustices of the infant school playground. A little scrapper at times, a dreamer and often feeling out of my depth.

My parents divorced when I was about 3 or 4 years old and things were difficult for a while. My Dad moved to a flat in town and understandably we didn’t have a lot of money. My sister’s had to give up learning their instruments and clubs. We couldn’t afford to buy new things, but being the youngest this was normal for me. Life was still good - we had a nice house to live in and a little garden with tall trees that were good for climbing and for goalposts, so all the kids in the street liked to come round. Every Friday Mum bought us each a chocolate bar if we were good and Christmas we always had great presents from both of them. Books became a perfect escape, laying down in my tiny box/bedroom.

I remember the Saturday shop with my Mum, getting the bus into town and helping her with the bags. I doubt mine would have been heavy, I was about 4 years old, but I do remember the hill we had to climb which was pretty much vertical! So from being young I was taught that everyone around me had needs and life was not just about doing the things I wanted to do. I will always be grateful for the sense of grounding and purpose I learned as a child. As I grew older the books given to me of Knights and of Robin Hood offered a clear understanding of how to treat people, before I was drawn to the alluring world of computer games that didn’t take forever to load up. 

My favourite chapter of Percival’s life doesn’t involve a great battle or the rescuing of a lady from a gang of brigands. It’s a tale more human then that. Badly wounded after a fight, Percival stumbles across the hidden castle of Carbonek, where its master invites him to stay and heal himself. That night he sees a procession of men and women carrying the Holy Grail and the bloodied Spear through the castles’ corridors. The Knights had quested for the Grail for many years. He follows but looses them, instead coming to a room with a chess set and two empty chairs. As Percival sits down, a chess piece moves and he finds himself playing against an invisible opponent. Each night he returns to the room, but loosing every game he becomes more and more frustrated. Eventually he takes his sword and smashes the board to pieces. In his rage he does not hear the calling of a woman asking him to stop. But hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, he turns raising his sword to defend himself… his heart breaks, it is Blanchfleur a girl he had fallen for in the days before becoming a knight. In that moment when he sees her look of fear and disappointment, he knows he has failed his test.

Percival was not to be the one to bring the Grail to Camelot; the honour was to be given to a better man. Blanchfleur explains that since they met, her father bought her to Carbonek to be one of the keepers of the Grail. Percival’s part in the story would be to tell others what he had seen. One day he would help Galahad find the Grail, because only he was worthy of it. But Blanchefleur had never forgotten Percival and she would wait for him to come get her, when his part was done. 

I suppose I’ve never found it easy to promote myself as a person. I’ve started trying to recently but it never felt right, I know my flaws better then most. I’ve spent too much time in town hearing people talk about how good they are at stuff, bragging and saying how happy they are in their life. – You know the people that you just want to smack in the moosh! The stories I prefer to hear in the pub are the ones about the friend who leaves work early to coach maths and reading to kids at school. Or the girl who works in the café and smiles at everyone that comes in. She takes a genuine interest in all the customers who have time to chat. These people are more interesting to me and I bet they have met some great characters along the way! It seems a shame we often feel we can’t talk about these acts of politeness without thinking its taking something away from it all.

From the Dark Ages came an ideal that to my mind never really flourished as it should, when light (or the written word) re-emerged. It was the concept that everyone is important, no matter their standing. That those of us who are strong and have the most power in society, would uphold this truth no matter the personal cost. At least that’s what I read in a book when I was a kid.

8 Tips to Survive an Alien Invasion

If there is anything Hollywood has taught us, it’s that Aliens Hate us! They are not going to come all this way just to make friends. They want to kill us, capture us and experiment on us. They want to stick things up our butts and not even in a nice way  :(

So I know what you’re gonna say, you’re thinking with the vastness of the Universe, the nearest life sustaining planet is far too far away. Surely any intelligent culture will use up all its natural resources before it can discover a way to travel so far in space. You don’t believe it’s possible to achieve faster then light travel and this whole Einstein Rosen Bridge theory seems a little unsafe and uncontrollable. Well you are wrong! There is enough unsubstantiated anecdotal evidence to suggest Aliens have been watching us for some time now. So please check out my top tips to survive an imminent invasion.

1.)    Don’t Panic! Panicking gets you Killed. I like a nice Vanilla and Chamomile Tea… with ginseng!

2.)    Get Tooled Up: The first thing you’ll need is a can opener or better a Swiss Army knife. Food is going to be pretty scarce for a while so make sure you can get into it. You’re also gonna needs Guns, Knives and other stabbing weopons. I’ll be swinging my lucky crowbar – you never know when you’ll need to break open an Alien Death Robot and steal some technology.

3.)    Don’t stand near any National Landmarks. If you’ve booked a tour round the Whitehouse or going to see the Houses of Parliament you may want to give it a miss. Aliens will conduct extensive research in order to destroy us and are most likely to target half empty government buildings first. They’ll leave all the military basses and oil refineries till later.

4.)    No one gets left behind: Stay in small mobile groups, everyone can be useful so make sure no one gets left unless they are really annoying. When the Invaders eventually leave we will need to make lots of babies, so guys look after the women – especially the pretty ones!

5.)    Know your enemy: You can easily capture an Alien straggler by running one down in a car. Or you can ask a ‘Chav’ to go shank one. That way when the Alien is eating the over confident Chav you can just creep up behind and wack it over the head with a metal pole. Then you can mess your Alien up and find its weaknesses.

6.)    Take Your Vitamins: In HG Wells’ 'War Of the Worlds' the Alien invaders died out because they did not have an immunity to Earth’s germs. We should be so lucky! If an Alien captures you and sneezes in your face, you’ll be glad you took your Vitamins. Always grab any medicine when you can.

7.)    These Bombs are Da-Bomb! The internet is really great for learning how to make explosives out of everyday household chemicals. You can also try making the little ones that Kyle Reece shows us in ‘The Terminator’, however these are only good for knocking people off motorbikes.

8.)    Keep in touch: Get a Radio, both myself and other key members of the Resistance will be hosting a radio show everyday at 9pm.

So stay alive and fight hard, this is our Planet and I don’t want to get my ass probed!!!

#Oustanding!

Romance VS The Mobile Phone

I had been drinking in pubs for about 2 or 3 years before mobile phones suddenly became popular and affordable. Pub-life started to change before my very eyes. You could stand up and see people texting, playing games and comparing their phones with each other. Us guys got the run of the pool table and left the girls to it. The art of conversation just died around me.

Back then I was young, charismatic; a big name on the dating circuit at the time. But the dynamics of dating were now changing and those who thought themselves a ‘Player’ were about to get a crude, Vodaphone style wake-up call. The old excuses were no longer valid, ‘I’ve been away’ or ‘I didn’t get your message my machine broke’ these only worked for a landline. Every time I’m shocked when a girl grabs my mobile phone from my hand, saves her number then calls herself. Its terrible to think a previous suitor might have written down the wrong telephone number on purpose. I mean I‘m sure I never did that? I also learned the hard way, if a girl texts you and you don’t respond within 3 minutes – you better have a good excuse.

At the time I felt I had to have a mobile for work and other commitments and I hated people bugging me all the time. But there was no denying the benefits of having one. Easier to make plans to meet up with pals or know when people were running late. Women felt a lot safer being out on their own at night and now I’de never go out in the car without one. With that said I think no one goes anywhere without their mobile nowadays…. The unexpected message from someone special because they just wanted to see what I was doing. The mates that called me when I was living up north to check I was still alive.

I started out at a time when pretending to be interesting on a date was really hard. Now a quick trip to the bathroom and a bit of wifi and instantly you know tonnes about the band she likes or the book she is reading. Why not throw in a line unexpectedly from her favorite film (just don’t go to the loo too much). Advice: Be prepared for your date, friend them on Facebook or give their mate a call first and just like school, you can do the homework on the bus on your way there. Ok maybe a little underhanded, but in my defence, I love sitting down with someone and comparing mobile photos. Phone Apps are great for looking up the song she hears but doesn’t know the name or just finding out who is right about a fact before an argument starts.

Recently a bunch of us were having a drink and my friend Andy showed us an amazing App. You point the phone up to the sky and Google tells you the names of every star. Imagine that - you’re sitting in the garden, having a nice romantic cup of tea with that special someone. You can find out the names of the stars together and look up the Greek Myth that goes with it. Everyone likes a story before bed!  

So whoever said ‘Romance is Dead’ clearly had a Crap Mobile Phone

The Wedding at the Big House on the Hill

Rebecca and Bert's weddinging was held at ‘The House on The Hill’ just outside Austin. The house itself, a lodge with a big old porch that looked out into the valley below. There are guest houses, a swimming pool and a dance floor with a slanted roof. We arrive to see tables laid out on a gentle slope: leading to a jagged limestone waterfall where the ceremony is to take place. There is time for me to meet some of the family and friends before we take our seats, ready for the bride and groom to come out. Its about 6:30pm, weddings in Texas often take place later in the day to avoid the heat.

The pale yellow sun could only peek through the trees that surround us, it stayed in the sky long enough for their vows to be made then falls away behind the hills. The trees themselves are covered in lights and lanterns, with candles laid where the bride thinks best. The breeze plays in the branches overhead and although it is so quiet, it feels like there is something wild here.

The married couple run up the slope and the bridesmaids and best men compete in the traditional ‘who can do the silliest dance up the aisle’ dance. We eat our meal and listen to their friends tell stories of how they met and wishing them well. The lanterns above the dance floor are curious iron stars and planets, you could loose yourself for a moment just looking at them. In the music that follows, while we sit, I hear Snow Patrols’ ‘Chocolate’. It reminds me of driving round visiting people and I think of home for the first time this week.

After the bride and groom’s first dance everyone wants to get on the floor and even the young-uns are getting involved in a strange and sexy, booty grindy kind of Line dancing. A couple of girls try to teach me, but the Englishman shames his country big time. I give up pretty quickly trying to learn the steps, conscious that I look as clumsy and dangerous as Arnold Schwazenegger trying to stop a 20 dollar note blow away. (and Yes I just Googled the spelling of that man's name). Lucky for me any attention I may have had is quickly diverted to the groom. Bert has grabbed a microphone and is rapping to ‘Ice Ice Baby’ reliving the glory day of a 5th Grade Talent competition I am reliably informed. 

We go inside for the traditional cutting of the cake and I am pleased to see that there are two. One is a geometrically warped, two tiered work of art. The other an equally ‘art like’ Oil Rig with chocolate oil. As the perfect guest I feel obliged to eat both as surely doing this will afford the happy couple more luck for the future! The groom is no where to be seen, so Rebecca decides to do a little dance and looking so lovely in her dress it is enough to keep her ravenous cake-thirsty guests at bay. When they come together to cut the wedding cake I am surprised how silent the room is, nowadays everyone can take pictures of these special occasions on their mobile phones. 

I am made to feel so welcome by family and especially the young guys and girls. I’m guessing it’s not just that I’m the ‘stranger in town’ but my accent which is a novelty. There’s a group of about 12 of us who stay up late drinking and joking around, We enjoy talking about travelling and culture and the exchanging of new Cool words and Bad Swears. I make some great new pals, I do a lot of shots but I don’t do a Keg stand. I’m happy guzzling a few beers but not with a couple of guys holding me upside down – no way! The bridesmaids go get changed into their jim-jams and their husbands go to pass out somewhere in the dark. There’s a few of us that stay up till morning, I maybe grab a half hour snooze on the porch, listening to the birds and the water feature.... and the gurgling of the swimming pool filter as it chews up the candles that were lovingly laid there the night before. 

Rebecca and Bert wanted a very simple but very special ceremony. They wanted everyone to party and have a good time. I’m on my way home feeling jaded – imagine if I had met a funny girl and when everyone had gone to sleep or were playing Beer Ping Pong, we snuck off to chat. With the dance floor to ourselves she could have tried to teach me the two-step and I would have shown her some Swing moves. Kissing someone special and opening my eyes to discover the sun had come up. If that was real, it would have been a good memory to take home with me. 

 

Austin Texas

The drive from Houston to Austin only takes about 3 hours, even if you take the back roads through the Ranch lands. People say it’s been a dry winter, but then Texas is notoriously dry. The grass has burnt away in places and many of the trees are bare. They are withered, grey, skeletal with white branches. Its probably a 60:40 split with some trees already covered in greenery. Bluebells are starting to spring up on the roadside and every so often I see a small tree with striking purple follage. An expert will tell you soon there will be Texan wildflower of all colours. I feel a silent promise that this place will grow lush soon, despite being scarred by the  constant sun.

Cara and Richie say we need to stop off at Joel’s BBQ for some amazing steak and pickle sandwiches. Cara tells me this is a family tradition. Just before we get to Austin we drive through an area of woodland completely ravaged by a fire not long ago. Several firefighters died trying to bring it under control, I’m told the smoke and ash that drifted into the city was so intense that the public were advised to stay in their homes. Everything is still, peaceful in the absence of any breeze. Even the Colorado River looks surprisingly calm to this tourist.

Austin is considered to be the most diverse or ‘weird’ city in Texas attracting people of all kinds. Some of the skyscrapers are innovative, the most impressive is the Frost Building whose roof was designed to look like an owl. There are some cool things to do here, I get some great shots of the Capital building and a friend takes me to Austin Comic Books to appease my inner Geek. We look round the Bullock Museum where I learn about the history of Texas; known as the Lone Star state as it was once a Republic, seperate to the United states. We walk past the Alamo Draft House, an old picture theatre where you can watch a film and have a sit down meal at the same time.

It’s Spring Break and Austin is playing host to the annual South by Southwest Music festival (SXSW). Bands flock in from everywhere, globally, just to get involved. There are people singing and playing in what seems to be every bar, like a thousand heartbeats resonating through the city. The first event we visit is a stage set up in a T shaped alley behind some stores and a restaurant. We can buy cheap beer and listen to a couple of bands, this is ‘typically American’ the crowd say.

There are huge events going on with big artists playing. Friday night brings Green Day and Justin Timberlake to town. The atmosphere is great, SXSW has got so big over the past couple of years. ‘Dirty’ 6^th Street is packed full of people and we see some good up and coming bands in one of the bars. For those who are inquisitive and step out the back there is a smaller stage with more of a soul feel. We accidentally find Eric Burdon from The Animals, a big name from the 60s. To me House of the Rising Sun never sounded better then through his matured and slightly gravelly voice.

To end the night we go to the bar at The Four Seasons Hotel, to try and spot famous people. No such luck I’m afraid, but it would have topped the night. I’ve been told by new friends how they have gone out in Austin and find, after paying just $10, Chris Martin from Coldplay has come to do a secret set or maybe Linken Park. My story hasn’t got that enigmatic punch line, but good music is ‘good music’ and I have a really great time!       

NASA - Houston TX

Monday 9:30am, I’m standing in line at Heathrow and I’m looking nervous. I mean I don't look 'Terrorist nervous' surely… I should have shaved this weekend. Its just the case I have never been to Heathrow before and this is my first visit to the USA. Confused about where to go, have I done my Visa right? Have I forgotten something? I’m clenching onto my passport and travel documents like a helium balloon, I’m smiling at everyone but I think its just making everyone feel uncomfortable.

Don’t get me wrong, I love flying! As a teenager I was a cadet and lucky enough to fly in several RAF aircraft. A few years back I clocked up about 12 hours in a Cessna and I still remember the feel of the controls, learning to take off and land. I was also lucky enough to fly at night over my home town. Going through the cloud level the sky and the Earth looks completely different and I’m excited, tomorrow I will be visiting the Johnston Space Centre where NASA develops new technologies and trains its astronauts. I know many of its early test pilots were flyers in the Navy. Once you know the principles of flight and the basics to propulsion you may find that flying feels completely safe and natural. As we hit a pocket of turbulence the plane dips, I do my sexy voice and nervously giggle but luckily no one hears.

NASA in Houston is huge, it employees over 1400 staff. The look of it is just a host of commercial buildings, the streets have real names, from the outside nothing of interest. Except for the huge cylinders (about 25m by 10m) with warnings that they contain nitrogen and helium. The visiting centre has a range of exhibits and lots of games for the kids, but I’m looking after my friend's niece and nephew so its ok for me to play.

The main Astronaut Training Suite is as long as a football field. From the walkway above it is again filled with huge cylinders. But these are mock ups of the space station, where the crew can learn the feel of the controls and run simulations before their mission starts. There are space buggies laid out and a strange climbing frame structure that is used to simulate zero gravity. The lady conducting the tour also points out the Robonauts, robots that are being developed to take the pressure away from humans, by fulfilling dangerous or repetitive tasks. Their gold heads look like something from 70s SciFi and as someone points out to me some look a little like Boba Fett.

The International Space Station (ISS) is a joint scientific venture, combining resources and tech from the worlds leading space authorities. Its goals are far broader then I realised. A big factor in exploration being possible for humans is understanding how our bodies will be effected by long journeys in space. We learn about what life is like, how they exercise. The research into why people's vision deteriorates quicker when they are in Space for long periods of time. There are experiments being conducted into diseases, in conditions that could not be replicated on earth. The station itself acts as a viewing platform, not just to help us understand our planet as I assumed, but also to see the effects of natural disasters in real time and relay this information to those managing ground responses.

We see some rockets from the early days of NASA and the tour concludes with a look at the Saturn V rocket, all three sections laid out horizontally. It is spectacularly large and I have to take pictures of it in stages as we walk around it. Everything looks so Retro and I like reading about Gemini7 pilots Borman and Lovell who were the first to rendezvous with another craft in space. As interesting as the tales of the moon landings are, more so the engineering that went into developing a module that could operate in the moon's 1/6th gravity or no gravity at all. In getting those people safely home. Things have not always gone right, the staff of NASA wore black arm bands for a whole year after the fire that killed the crew of Apollo1 on the lunch pad. There have been a number of deaths that I have read about. Hundreds of people have been involved in finding out what went wrong and its sad to think of those who died having getting so close to fulfilling their dreams.

The day before, on the plane I remembered something very special. Those moments when you are a kid and you are sitting in the park or the beach and you look at the sun. Grown ups tell you its dangerous but if you just look for a few seconds you can see the curves of this tiny ball of flame. You learn as you get older it is actually a hundred times bigger then Earth and about a hundred million miles away. Scientific discoveries, pictures, data: we now have a better understanding of how beautiful and fierce our universe really is. We all come from the same place but there are men and women who have the passion, drive, knowledge and skill to be chosen as astronauts. They probably stared at the sun too. I admire the bravery of those who reach out into the sky as far as they can and grab whatever experiences they can find.

You Dancin?

Despite the number of lessons I have taken over the past 8 months, I still dance like a child that has discovered a puddle for the first time. To be honest the problem has been lack of commitment. I have missed classes due to illness or dropping a cabinet on my foot. Pub excursions and perhaps a confidence deficiency to go with it.

It was my pal Jess who first suggested I get into Swing, we were both trying to show off with some dance moves at a drunken, party / gathering, Friday night thing. Then I found out my friend Stuart had also started. I had never really wanted to go to a dance class before, avoiding invites in the past. However the genre seemed pretty Cool and so did the thought of throwing round and spinning girls in a safe and aesthetic manner.

So according to Wikipedia 'Lindy Hop' is an American dance that originated in Harlem, New York in the 1920s and 30s. It brought together elements of Charleston and Tap apparently. My interpretation was this was about trying new things. It is fast paced, unruly and amazing to watch. It began at a time when society was experiencing alot of change, young black and white people were coming together socially. The Lindy was itself born from the infusion of different cultures. Girls learn't to lead when their male partners went to war. What happened, quite naturally was the promotion of equality and diversity. All within a dance hall where you wouldn't even have to pay alot of money to make friends and have fun

Dance (like life) should be spontaneous, but there are mechanics I need to master before I can progress. Not just the moves themselves but the ability to lead my partner, pressure, counter balance, the ability to not think so much and naturally follow the 6 or 8 count. I was watching some of the Muhammad Ali fight recently against Cleveland Williams in '66. He use to boast that he was gonna dance around the ring and his opponent couldn’t catch him. I can kind of see what he meant, he practiced his foot work all the time. The speed of his movements and roll of his body showed complete confidence and decisiveness. He moved efficiently around the ring, quickly on his toes with a downward motion, not a bounce.

I am going dancing a lot more regularly now and I’m genuinely feeling progress. I may even be enjoying it and looking forward to getting confident. It’s a well known scientific fact that a persons ability on the dance floor is improved directly with the more alcohol they consume. I barely have enough time for a whiskey at the bar with Stu before the class starts. So maybe next time I’m in the pub and a girl mate wants to dance, I won’t be so hesitant. Or maybe I’ll have another drink first…