Lo Reid’s Hypnotist Show: Low indeed

 

Hypnotism has always been a rather strange phenomenon to me. Although I usually pride myself on not eating up all the junk that my nearest television set throws at me, I’ve been all over the issue of televised hypnotism like a tramp on chips. 

From childhood, I remember shows where hypnotists would conveniently forget to break a spell that they have cast onto unwitting members of the public, resulting in tragic, hectic, but ultimately incredibly humorous effects. Of course, I’ve since realised that hypnotism doesn’t revolve around magic or spells of any sort, and that it is merely the power of suggestion combined with incredible concentration. Be that as it may, hypnotists still receive relatively negative press, even when their doings are not being sensationalised to almost-Daily Mail-esque proportions.

Being a psychology student, I know that stereotypes aren’t healthy, so I jumped at the chance to see Lo Reid, one of Europe’s most famous and prolific hypnotists, in a show at Teesside University on the 23^rd of February. 

After a couple of speeches from a bunch of ex-servicemen who had somehow arrived in Middlesbrough with absolutely no money [and without the necessary camouflage and ammo to defend themselves from the chavs in the area], Lo Reid took to the stage; the room filling with expectation from past show-attendees, and bewilderment from skeptics such as myself.  Dressed from head to toe in black leather, a look that suggested she was also available to hire as a low-budget Debbie Harry replacement, Reid attempted a quick stand-up routine to warm up the crowd. By ‘attempted stand-up’, I of course mean that she delivered a tirade filled to the brim with F-bombs and downstairs body-parts, held together with a few genuinely funny punch-lines.

After successfully sourcing 20 volunteers who met her rather stringent criteria [of not being idiots, too drunk, or on medication], the hypnotism finally began. To my dismay, she did not carry a pocket-watch to hypnotise participants with, but insisted that that they had to stare at a specific spot on the wall and relax whilst listening to her instructions. At this point, the audience was told to be as quiet as possible, as this would affect the concentration of the volunteers on stage. While true showmen and show-women, even under these circumstances, would not turn their backs to the audience, all I could really see was the back of Lo Reid’s aging-blonde hair style, and the dead cow that sacrificed its life to provide the skin to make the bulk of her jacket.

Once all of the volunteers were all ‘under’ [and at this point, they were not the only ones feeling ‘veerrrry sleeeeepy’], they were all made to subconsciously act out several scenarios, including being a goldfish, being a train, and somewhat bizarrely, being in their favourite sex positions; a command that resulted in one girl flopping back on her chair and not moving a muscle, and one man roughly grabbing the hypnotist and attempting to mate with her. From this moment on, the show seemed to repeat jokes over, and over again, exposing the crude humour that this country has sadly succumbed to in recent years. Candidates running for NUS Presidency ended up taking their clothes off at various points throughout the show; students hope that this is the only time that they’ll be caught with their pants down.

Other skits included volunteers acting out an Indian Jeremy Kyle sketch [which some called racist], certain participants forgetting the existence of the number 7, and volunteers dancing to Beyoncé’s hit “Single Ladies”, seemingly of their own volition. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten most of the events that occurred in the rest of the show, proving that I’ve either got a talent for repressing painful memories, or proving how forgettable Lo Reid’s show really is. 

Sadly enough, I’ve seen more highlights in my roommate’s latest hairdo, and the ticket didn’t seem to be worth the paper it was printed on. Duller than a digestive biscuit, and dryer than the desert, the show may be heading to a Student Union bar near you –avoid it at all costs. Lo Reid’s Hypnotist Show is exactly that: low.

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Three cardinal sins of the student kitchen

Recently, in an attempt to become even more of a skint-flint, perhaps even impress my peers, and maybe even seek out an alternative career path, I’ve attempted to spend more time in the kitchen. As a teenager who has grown up in the ‘microwave era’, I’ve been used to limiting my cuisine to several three-minute wonders, including those infamous Chicago Town pizzas, macaroni and cheese from Marks and Spencer, and some items from Iceland that I am still yet to identify, and can still feel clunking through my digestive system one year later. After getting sicker and sicker of the limited choices in the microwave aisles of several supermarkets, I decided to pluck up the courage, and pick up a frying pan. Of course, as many will say, practise makes perfect, and through my many attempts at dinner and lunch, though still being far from perfect, I have learnt quite a few kitchen clues and cues.

Sin one: Acting like you’re on the BBC

Come on, admit it- we’ve all done it at some point. Whether it’s in the style of Jamie Oliver, Gordon Ramsey, or even the legend himself, Ainsley Harriot; you cannot deny that, at least once in your life, you have pretended to be the host of a cookery show, dancing around your kitchen. I must admit that I, too, have been partial to attempting some sultry Nigella-esque looks-to-camera, but I realised my mistake when I recorded myself and realised that I only looked as sexy as her father.
All in all, talking to yourself or a pretend audience, when making your din-dins, is a recipe for disaster- not only do you look like you may have a couple of disorders, but you take the risk of allowing your creation to slowly burn to the point of cremation within your oven, as you deliver a heartfelt monologue about how the recipe was handed to you by a relative on their deathbed.

Sin two: Loving experimentation more than a fat kid loves cake
Don’t get me wrong- experimenting and goofing around in the kitchen is always welcome, and can often result in some spectacular combinations and concoctions. It can’t be denied, however, that there are some things that are best left on the separate sides of the kitchen. I would recommend, for instance, that you strongly avoid trying to mix marmite and ice cream, and fight off the urge to become Britain’s Ben’n’Jerry; combining several wacky flavours that could easily end up putting someone in the intensive care unit of the local hospital.
If the thought of severely endangering someone’s life is not enough to stop you from such mad culinary experiments, I’d like to remind you that success is not a guarantee of a great reputation. For example: milk is a great ‘invention’, and is something that we use all day, every day. We would most likely be unable to hold our lives together without it. But the question does still remain: what was the man who first milked a cow actually trying to do!? While your kitchen adventures may not carry the same disgusting undertone as a bestiality attempt gone-wrong, they could still leave a bitter taste in the mouths of the eaters.

Sin three: It’s all beans
Baked beans have long been the staple cuisine of the red-faced student, and can often be spotted in the lower-left cupboard that occupies a vast amount of their habitat. However, while they may seem to be the only item that may serve as prey for the ravenous higher-education attendee, this is a massive mistake.
This final sin consists of a plea, and that is a plea for you to diversify your cooking, even though you’re probably scared of setting off all of the fire alarms in your student accommodation block, engulfing the building in flames, and burning food to the point of it being a carcinogenic crisp. Just a new ingredient here, and a new cooking method there will allow you to create some fabulous recipes, and you could even take the opportunity to create some dishes that you never thought you could ever make. The main lesson here is to have fun. Cooking’s not all about enjoying a nice meal- it’s about enjoying the experience, and learning skills that will turn you into great house-owners in the years to come.

Take these lessons with you, and you’ll be cookin’ on gas.

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TechTalk: Exploring the social networking undergrowth

If you’re a keen follower of this blog (which I somehow doubt), you’ll know that it’s my (frankly, rather pathetic) attempt to cobble all of the things that I’m passionate about into one place, whilst earning a few pennies on the side (yup, those ads, unfortunately, aren’t decorative). Recently, though, you’ll have noticed that I’ve put several joules of energy into writing about social networks, be it Myspace, or Facebook. While one’s dead, and the other’s continuously adapting to make sure it survives against a challenge from Google+ or Twitter, it got me thinking: are there any more social networking sites out there?

Of course there are. To use a metaphor: just because Coca Cola and Pepsi are market leaders in the cola or (at the risk of sounding terribly unfashionable) “fizzy pop” it doesn’t mean that a person can’t choose to drink one of the smaller brands. Of course, there’s Tesco cola, Sainsbury’s Cola, and (if you truly want to slum it and risk several forms of infection) Lidl Cola. In the same light, there are some social networking minnows out there, some with some truly fantastic ideas, and others which, unfortunately, will probably cause the same effect as the Lidl Cola- but mentally, of course. Here, then, is my guide to three social networks that you might just’ve missed out on…

1. MyYearbook.com

We all remember Myspace, and we’re all familiar users of Facebook and Twitter. However, what would you think of if I asked you to picture a social network that looked to be the baby bastardisation of all of them?

MyYearbook looks pretty damn close to that image. It seems to have combined the “like”, “comments”, and overall blue-tinged colour scheme from Facebook, and the character limit from Twitter (which actually is rather infuriating on this site). This particular site, though, unfortunately, bears an overwhelming resemblance to Myspace. The “myspace whores” have returned, and they’ve struck this site with a vengeance. While I’m sure that most of the people on the site mean well, many of them struggle to type simple sentences correctly, and it’s jam-packed full of annoying guys asking lewd, rude, and downright nasty questions to girls who, it seems, can’t figure out how to put their ample cleavage away. Add to that the plethora of dating games, and an incredibly bad user experience and you’ve got yourself a truly shocking result.

If you’re into blurry pictures of girls in bikinis and can be bothered to learn a whole new version of chatspeak (where, it seems, users have attempted to type words with their foreheads and knees simultaneously), then this could just be a hit with you. I wouldn’t bet on it, though.

2. Yuwie.com

Unfortunately, at the time of writing, Yuwie has been put up for sale. Going to the site will only, unfortunately, show you the site’s logo, and tell you that the asking price is $15,000. So, then, it’s up to me to give you the premise of the site.

Yuwie seemed to be too good to be true, when I had first heard of it about four to five years ago. Basically it was a site that (and you can re-read this slowly, if it doesn’t click the first time) PAID people to social network. I, obviously, being a sucker for a quid or two (may I remind you again of the ads?), joined up.

The site itself was, unfortunately, miserable. While the user experience wasn’t that bad, the place was deserted. I had convinced a (now ex-) girlfriend to sign up so we could raise a bit of dough together, and other than each other, it seemed like the place was emptier than the inside of Jodie Marsh’s brain. Of course, while getting paid to talk to people was a very attractive proposition, the fact that it was based on ad-revenue probably caused several would-be users to return to the book o’ face. And I don’t blame them- I checked my earnings from the site last year, and I had made barely a penny.

I’d be lying if I said that I missed the site and its red colour scheme, but being paid to network is still a rather attractive proposition, not just to me- but also many others. So watch this space and see if Yuwie ever returns.

3. Dailystrength.org

I can’t help but feel that, at this stage, I’ve been overly negative in my reviews of these plutoed social networks. So here, then is my good deed and positive part of this post, and it comes in the form of dailystrength. I was debating about putting this in because I wasn’t sure about whether it was classed as a forum or a social network. It is, in essence, a site where people can receive crowdsourced help for their problems, whether they’re psychological or physiological, via online support groups. Think of it as a Yahoo!Answers site for almost every ailment you could think of.

The people seem to be incredibly supportive and keen to help, and if you’re in need of some support from experienced people, this is probably one of the best places to go on the internet.

Obviously, these sites will probably never threaten the dominance of the “big three” of social networking. But if you’re looking for a bit of a change, and don’t mind learning new interfaces and enjoying (or, indeed suffering) the company of new people, these could just provide some boredom killers for your time on the internet.

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TechTalk: Social not-working: Facebook’s numerous GUIses

Like a group of teenagers with their fads, or a woman with her clothes, social networking giant Facebook has suddenly changed again. If Mark Zuckerberg hadn’t asked his loyal and numerous users to master enough user interfaces already, another one has come along to baffle them and question why they use the site.

We were all used to the Facebook of yore. It had a nice and uncluttered interface, and only had one news feed on the homepage. Now, all [or, as I have found, most] of the users have an extra, mini “news ticker” on the side of their main feed that displays all of your friend’s actions as they do them. Several friends of mine have preferred to call this a “mini-feed”, but I just think it’s an item that can cause more privacy invasions in 10 minutes than a Murdoch journalist can pull off in an entire year. Give it a few days, and this fast-flowing friend feed will be able to publish your visits to the loo- and not only in quantity and length, but probably in consistency and quality, too. For me, this little news feed is a terrifying thing, and could just be a change too far.

Change, in general, though, is a much needed thing in social networking. Much like animals and humans, social networks must compete and adapt to survive and thrive. Both Facebook and Twitter have applied several tweaks to their sites recently, both to improve the user experience and also provide extra revenue, as (and let us not forget) social networks are businesses after all. When social networking sites don’t change, they quickly fade away into the pages of our mind. There was a time when Myspace was the social networking king, and had over 100 million accounts. However, it didn’t change much to the eye; and both the “myspace whores” and casual users posted their last bulletins and picture comments, and left quietly through the back door. Now its disgraced name rests in the same pit as the other casualties: Bebo and Hi5, and is now the realm of indie-kids and retro-geeks.

There is no doubt that Facebook’s constant changes seem to be more applicable to the song “Hot 'n’Cold” by Katy Perry than they are to any viable business strategy. These changes aren’t exactly being loved by users, either. A friend of mine, with a string of non-repeatable words, told me of her disgust for the new site, and the disapproval of the users was even covered by international news network CNN. This isn’t the first time that users have verbally rebelled over changes to the site, and you can count on the fact that it won’t be the last. While some of these changes are incredibly infuriating, Facebook is still the free and convenient way to get hold of all my friends- especially when I, a poor, struggling student, can hardly afford to top up my phone. So for now, Facebook has won this battle- but if they keep ringing these changes, I’m hoping that they’ll lose the war.

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TechTalk: "MySpace Tom" is now just "Tom".

Years ago, when you first logged onto the then social networking hotshot Myspace, you would have had one friend. It wouldn't have been a friend that you knew, a friend that you necessarily cared about, or a friend who impacted your life. It was just a caucasian guy, sitting by a scribbled-on whiteboard in an office somewhere, smiling at the camera in his dazzling white shirt.
That guy was Tom. Throughout the years, he's been known under several pseudonynms, including "Tom Anderson", "Myspace Tom", and "Tom from that old website... um... what's it called again?"
While you may think that he has stayed with the company, and slowly declined with them thanks to their Murdoch purchase and the rise of Zuckerberg and Facebook, it seems as though he, like everyone else, has deserted the struggling and sinking social network, saying that he doesn't "like using it anymore", and that he "is not a fan of what the new guys have done with MySpace". In fact, examining his post on Facebook, which can be seen by anyone thanks to the site's new 'Subscribe' feature, allowing users to see the posts of someone they're not friends with in a Twitter or Google+ type of way, it seems as though Tom Anderson left MySpace in 2009. Strangely, though, he still uses the same profile image wherever he goes... though I suppose that that picture seals [or rather 'is'] his brand identity, which has been posted on other sites, such as Google+ .
So now we know the truth: Myspace Tom is no longer Myspace Tom. He is, instead, "Plethora-of-Social-Networks" Tom. I'd include something speculative on whether we'd see a "Myspace Martin", or "Myspace Martha"- but frankly, there's no point in predicting a pirate for a sunken ship.

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Book Review: One Day [+ A film too far?]

The Book Bit
It's not often that one can read a book that perfectly condenses life, warts-and-all, into 464 pages of paperback perfection. Most authors tend to capture a wonderfully two-dimensional perspective of life. It's either usually too happy, too sad, or too damn boring.
David Nicholls, however, has managed to flesh out the emotions to a tee, making the characters of his lengthy and emotionally dense tail an become immaculately believable in the mind's eye of any reader.
The main characters themselves are perfect representations of the genres that pertain to their gender: Dexter is a lad-lit author's dream, being higher class, rather attractive, and the boy-about-campus who doesn't mind a party or seven. Emma, in a strange yet fitting contrast has popped straight out of a chick-lit novel, with her staunch feminism, 'unconventional-cute-looks' and her permanent and unfailing strength to protest for something or other.
Strangely enough, these two opposite characters find themselves together in a hotel bed on St Swithin's Day, just after they've both graduated from Edinburgh University. While Emma has crushed on 'Dex' throughout the years at university, he is trying to plot an inconspicuous escape from the bed- but both are starry eyed and rather perplexed as to what lies ahead, with their vice chancellor ensuring them that the doors of opportunity are 'flung wide'. To Dexter Mayhew, thinking ahead too far forward in the future is terrifying, being one of those fashionable 'in-the-now' males.
As always, though, the heart-to-heart can't last forever, and we sadly see the pair go their separate ways- thought they vow to keep in contact. Dexter jets off around the world visiting far flung lands across the globe, and Emma keeps her feet on the ground in Britain, starting off by working for a community theatre company along with a closet racist and a definitely-not-closet exhibitionist. Both Dexter and Emma write to eachother furiously; staining pages with messages that tug on the heart-strings and convey that they like eachother just that little bit more than they're letting on. Dexter, too, rather surprisingly offers several poignant letters, showing magnificent care for Emma- though, of course, it could have been the exotic alcohol talking.
Throughout the book, where we see the pair's communications and meetings every St. Swithin's day. Dexter's career runs about as high as the emotions in the book, as he becomes a British television star. Emma's, however, sinks. After the community theatre stint, she ends up working in a cheap Mexican restaurant in North West London, and every day, slowly but surely, becomes another painful chore; serving customers several varieties of tortilla, and having to socialise with Ian Whitehead, a colleague and part time stand-up comedian who just can't find the off button on his 'humour'. Through this time, jealousy floods from the tale like a river flooding from a broken dam, almost to the point where the reader can taste it in their mouth. It seems as though, despite the main characters' blatant hankerings for each other, their paths will never cross in the same way again, as Emma gets involved with Ian, and Dexter gets involved with anything that moves and may have drugs.
Slowly but surely, as in real life, the characters change and adapt, and the emotions they create suddenly create a huge dark hole within the reader, matched only by the voraciously addictive nature of the book. At times, David Nicholls' bracing wordcraft creates massive moments of hunger, with the reader praying for the mental and romantic torture to end as he plays with the lives of Dexter and Emma, bringing them within touching distance of each other, but always, somehow, leaving them miles apart.
The book itself is incredibly well written, and as emotions run as high as the Alps and as thick as treacle, the plot compliments it perfectly, offering several twists that always leave the reader wanting more.
Rating: 9/10

The 'Popcorn Post' Bit
Assuming that you don't live under a rock, you'll probably know that One Day has been adapted into a movie. Living in London, it's hard to escape that fact, with a theatrical poster being cheaply applied to almost every bus in the capital.
For a book that was wonderfully expressive, and left high expectations in the mind's eye, the movie [or the trailer, at least] seems to be desperate and disappointing. While I am an Anne Hathaway fan, and am in awe of her various talents, her casting has been a big problem for me, and her 'Yorkshire' accent sounds like she took cut-price diction lessons from Kate Middleton.
In my mind, I would have preferred a home-grown, English cast to play the major roles, something that worked beautifully in an adaptation of another of Nicholls' books, 'Starter for Ten'.
It's safe to say that the film is a massive let-down, especially when compared to the most graphically pleasing media player in the world: the mind. Whether it ruins the reputation of the fabulous book, however, remains to be seen.

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Clues of the World: Was the closure imminent?

After the intense rollercoaster ride of allegations into the News of the World's phone-hacking scandal, News Corporation and Rupert Murdoch have made the decision to pull the plug on one of Britain's best selling tabloids. A memo was only passed round to staff and press members today, but given the pasting that News of the World has received in the past week, one must wonder if the closure was imminent.
On several blogs and forums, word is buzzing that the domain name "www.thesunonsunday.co.uk" has been bought by News Corp, fuelling speculation that the News of the World will be replaced by a Sunday edition of its sister red-top, The Sun. Indulging in a quick examination of "thesunonsunday.co.uk"'s WHOIS file, being a helpless nerd, I found that the domain was registered two days ago, on the fifth of July. While it's feasible that this was merely purchased as a contingency plan by the ever-business-savy Rupert Murdoch, who must've been no stranger to the backlash towards his publication on social networking sites and the backlash of companies who buy advertising space in his paper, the whole plan seems to be almost directly comparable to that of a pilot who wishes to ditch his plane after the first signs of turbulence. In fact, it could even be likened to a criminal hurriedly fleeing the scene of a crime.
As this sorry affair drags on, with News Corp leaving the corpse and ghost of a popular publication behind, the phone-hacking scandal lives on within it, much like a set of worms devouring the body from the inside out. The closure of the News of the World will do nothing to muffle the scandal, and the disgusting conduct of the journalists and editors in question will continue to be scrutinised. All being well, this will also cause a shakeup to the profession, and will also push for some improvements to be made to the Press Complaints Commission, who are regarded by most papers and their editors as a toothless tiger in the wild world of journalism.
Of course, I feel sorry for everyone who has been hacked in these malicious events. When it was Hugh Grant and the Queen, it was bad enough. But to see that the News of the World hacked the telephones of abductees, bomb-victims, and even the relatives of people who died for our country, is simply sickening. However, a thought must also be spared for the workers at the red-topped rag who had absolutely nothing to do with this affair. Once again, Murdoch has managed to bite the hand that feeds him. The working class are the main target for the News of the World, but as the printing presses whirr to a stop on Sunday morning, several working class people will be stripped of their livelihoods; victim to a scandal that has been triggered by the big-wigs and the editors at News Corporation. Editors such as Rebekah Brooks [or Rebekah Wade as she was once known], who somehow have managed to escape from this incident scott-free, can continue to live lavish lifestyles, despite being at the centre of this scandal.
It'll be a sad day for journalism on Sunday. Although I've never had much of a fondness for the gutter press, red-tops, and tabloids, it's definitely a sad sight to see a publication draw to a sudden halt. But whichever way you look at it, it seems as though the News of the World's card was already sneakily marked.

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