The Fault in Our Star Wars

I was 11 years old when I had my appendix out. The year was 2001, so at this point there were only four Star Wars movies but a fifth was on the horizon. I received the diagnosis of appendicitus at about 6:30pm on a Tuesday 5^th March. I remember the trip to the hospital as every speed bump bought about a sharp pain to my abdomen. Six hours in A&E later, a surgeon named Alex said that 12:30am was no time to be doing operations and the procedure had to wait until the following morning. Flash forward twelve and a half hours and the whole thing was a success. Life without an appendix had just begun! I remember everything about the whole misadventure, from diagnosis to discharge, vividly.

There are some childhood memories I have where I am unsure wether I remember them at all. One of my earliest “memories” is playing in a paddling pool on the patio with Emma. I was about two and a half. I don't know if I actually remember this or wether I simply remember the dozens of photos of that particular day. Memory is a strange thing.

Picture the Scene: 1996. I am seven years old. The Saturday afternoon ritual of going to Moonlight Movies, our local video rental shop, situated on the same roundabout as Hepworth's Fish and Chips is well established in the Bateman household. One fateful afternoon, we rented Star Wars and I was introduced to the world of Luke Skywalker and friends. I have no recollection of watching it at all. I have no memory of watching the second Star Wars film but I know for a fact that I have. Unfortunately, I never got around to renting Return of the Jedi.

Flash forward to 1999 and Star Wars: The Phantom Menace was released. I saw that one at the cinema but remember very little of the experience. However is that the video game tie in was nothing short of incredible. Sure, It had a few annoying bugs and it was actually possible to save the game whilst dying which meant if you loaded the game you would be greeted with a game over screen. As for the difficulty, it was incredibly stressful and I never got to the end. In fact, I don't know anyone who finished that game. The point being, most of my Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace knowledge, the characters, plot and setting, come from that game and not the actual film.

There were two other Star Wars films made after that but I have no emotional connection to either of them or the circumstances in which I saw them.

My friend Chris made this in 2006. I never fully understood it. That's me on the left.

Star Wars is everywhere. This reminds me of my paddling pool story from earlier. I have seen most of the films but I do not actually remember watching them. Miraculously, I have managed to cope. It is impossible to exist alongside Star Wars Fans without absorbing tidbits of trivia via osmosis. That is not enough. One cannot be a fan of Star Wars fuelled by second hand memories and hype. It is not enough to know that Admiral Gial Ackbar's most famous line is “It's a trap” without experiencing it firsthand for yourself. I've spent most of my teenage and adult life not even sure if I actually like Star Wars.

Then the new Star Wars film was announced. A lot of my friends were excited but unsurprisingly I was fairly nonplussed. In the build up to the release of The Force Awakens, I finally found time to watch Return of the Jedi this year and it was a good film. I was surprised that, despite being friends with thousands of Star Wars super fans I had no idea how “The Whole Of Star Wars” ended. Shrugs all round.

I made a conscious decision to go see The Force Awakens on my own. Being a fairly contrary fellow I figured that other people would influence my decision. I would rebel against the general consensus for the sake of controversy. I was so confident in my mind that would be the best approach, I even dreamt I saw it on my own. One can't argue with prophesy. I would pay my money, watch the major motion picture on my own, and my opinions would be pure, untainted. I didn't watch the trailer, I didn't read anything about the film, I didn't even know the names of any of the new characters. I avoided everything I could as I was determined to discover, for myself, wether I actually liked Star Wars or not.

Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens is 137 minutes long and is really good.

O Holy Night

My choir experience is finally over. It all happened last night and quite truthfully, it was incredible. Simply put, it has been an emotional roller coaster from start to finish. So, before I go into the details of the night itself let us take a trip down memory lane to figure out how I got myself into this mess in the first place.

On October the 23^rd I received a Whatsapp message from one of the worship leaders from church that simply read “Choir this year?” followed by some music note emojis and I cautiously obliged. A mixture of excitement and unease filled my being as I was not quite sure what I had let myself in for!

I turned up to the first practise not really sure what to expect. As has been mentioned the whole affair was a source of profound confusion from the very beginning.

As the weeks passed I became more and more confident with the idea of being in the choir. My family winced as I practised at home, bellowing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen at any given opportunity. Slowly but surely, I was beginning to be able to hit the notes I needed and navigate my way around the dozens of pages of sheet music that had been given to me.

Then, came the darkness. Having missed a practise session the week previous due to a preaching commitment I began to feel a little bit behind. The following Sunday, after a busy week, I found myself tired, groggy and feeling a little ill. I considered not going to practise for a second week running. I then remembered that I was unable to make the next week's practise too. I agonised about going to bed but something inside me spurred me on. I was going to be in the choir and no-one could stop me.

The King's Centre Choir 2015

Flash forward to the real thing: I was on stage, dressed in a bright red jumper (choral uniform apparently) feeling sick with nerves. Seven members of my family, who don't make a habit of going to these kind of events, came to watch, occupying a whole row right in the middle of the church. The administration elements of being in the choir overcame me as I constantly dropped my music and turned to the wrong pages. In some cases, I had managed to lose the words and had to mime a song or two. The whole thing certainly was a baffling ordeal.

But I did it. We did it. I loved it. The whole thing has meant a great deal to me as I've done things I never thought I would ever do. We sang in unison, we sang harmonies, we even sang with a live band. And people loved it! Lots of people were uplifted by it and were able to share in the joy of Christmas because of an unlikely group of singers all with different stories, backgrounds, proficiencies and abilities banded together to sing praises to Jesus. Beautiful. 

Cryptic Christmas

A colleague of mine once received a set of coat hangers as their secret Santa present. The incident is fairly famous at work as among one of the biggest secret Santa disasters.

I've been through several Secret Santas and each experience has taught me a little something about the human condition. Here are a few reflections to help you survive the festive merriment.

You Are Not That Interesting 

While we can all dream of a present that is a playful yet thoughtful reference to one of your most lovable quirks, the laws of probability states your gift giver probably won't have a relationship with you that allows them to be privy to those kinds of insights. After all, you are probably not as interesting as you consider yourself. Consumables like bath soaps, chocolates or upmarket fudge are all fairly safe bets. If you're getting these than you can assume your gift giver doesn't really know an awful lot about you, but fortunately they wish you no harm.  

It Is More Blessed To Give Than To Receive

I hooked that one straight about of the Bible, and it is kind of what Christmas is about. One year, I struck gold with my random allocation and managed to get the perfect present. The recipient loved their gift so much they posted a picture of it on Facebook and it got about 10 likes. My gift on the other hand was a little bit disappointing. I received an alcoholic beverage, which was no use to me as I average about two drinks a year.  I was so cross about the whole thing I proudly told my colleague that I had bought her the gift she loved so dearly. Just because you got someone a great gift, doesn't mean you deserve one - doing good things with a sense of entitlement is terrible and bad.

Secret Santa Is Not The Place To Try Out Your Comedic Talents

This one is fairly obvious. If someone in the office was hospitalised by a boar in October, a cuddly pig is probably not the best choice. Unless you have a great relationship with the person and you know they're cool with whatever aspect of their character you're subtly mocking steer clear of anything comedic. I've never known anyone to be upset by a box of country fudge. I am also yet to see nipple tassells go down well. Some free advice there.

Have Fun And Don't Be An Idiot

The gift you receive probably isn't a deep insight into what people think of you as a person. Because people like to receive nice gifts they also tend to avoid giving intentionally bad ones. Secret Santa is not designed to be a baffling ordeal but is designed so everyone you work with might get a present, have a laugh and enjoy Christmas a little bit more.

In case you are wondering, I received some chocolate this year, which falls into the giver probably doesn't know me very well so got me a safe gift and that is okay category. Maybe I'll get the Bulgarian Phrasebook next year....

Life in HD

Online Thesaurus Shopping

This week, I had a enthralling conversation with a colleague about a new book I had purchased. I was incredibly animated about The Usborne Junior Thesaurus. Declaring it a "game-changer" I insisted the school needed to order about 30 copies of it. The response was a bemused:

"Your head must be a wonderful place to be, Batman"

As it happens, it is.

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain is one of the most important books I have ever read. In it, she talks about how naturally quiet or introverted people tick. As it turns out, we have super reactive brains.  People who fall in this category have "rich inner personal lives" but also have trouble switching off effectively.  Always and constantly working, noticing things.  I read every single sign I see. I can listen to multiple conversations at once. I am afraid of firework displays. The best way to describe it is Life in High Definition

Sometimes these things are awesome sometimes it makes life a baffling ordeal because it is absolutely exhausting. By four o'clock today I could barely string a sentence together and it was bad news as I had to deliver a Bible story and lead an assembly style thing with the kids. My situation wasn't helped by the fact I got in at one o'clock this morning having been to see Anna Von Hausswolff perform in some hipster bar in Hackney.

But, there's a way to overcome the exhaustion caused by stimulation and that is do things you are passionate about. I was surprised at how I managed to survive the afternoon (I shouldn't be surprised as we had prayed beforehand!)

Reading a half reasonable explanation on how my brain may or may not work has helped me to look after myself. I know that if I'm feeling down for no particular reason, it may be overstimulation. I know not to do too much or face exhaustion. But switching off is incredibly hard, so I'll just write 350 words about needing to switch off rather than actually do it.

11 days until I sing in a choir.

The Dark Playground

DISCLAIMER: Many of today's ideas come from a really helpful blog on procrastination by a guy called Tim Urban on his website Wait But Why - You can read the particular blog entry I make reference to  here.

I used to have a really bad procrastination problem but we will talk about later.

Never before has life been so busy. Friends demanding our time and extra curricular activities demanding our attention. In the space of the next 10 days I've got two Bible talks to give, two Bible studies to prepare, replace my rear view mirror, learn a Romanian funeral dirge on the violin. I also need to go to work and do other adulty things.

We also live in a world where it has never been so easy to find entertainment. Apps, on-demand television, social media and the Internet in general.  Long story short; procrastination has never been easier.

This is where Tim Urban's notion of The Dark Playground is so helpful. Playgrounds, in their very nature, are fun. But what if, every single swing, roundabout and climbing frame in the playground was tinged with sadness, paranoia and regret? The swings don't go as high as they should, the slide doesn't go as fast as it should and the view from the top of the climbing frame is frankly disappointing.

A lengthy to do list yet I still find time to play Castlevania

Where am I going with this? Imagine you need to hoover the house.. It is a job you hate with a passion. It is dull and it is a hassle. You're also on the last episode of Season 2 of Homeland. The series has had you gripped from start to finish and you cannot wait to find out what crazy escapade Damien Lewis and Claire Danes are going to get up to next. It is a tough decision.

You opt for the season finale which, admittedly does excite you with its twists and its turns, but the experience is somewhat tainted. It has been tainted by the nagging feeling that you should really have been doing something else; something more important. You, my friend, have just spent the last hour in The Dark Playground. Just how much better would that show have been had you nothing else to do? You would have been able to enjoy it so much more.

We enjoy both our work and our leisure time when we get our priorities straight. When we do things in the right order. For, and the Dark Playground teaches us this, rest is not an absence of work but the completion of work. Not only has this mindset helped me get more stuff done, it has also enabled me to enjoy the things I love doing in a far more satisfactory way.

Living The Dream

About two and a half months ago, my life changed forever. My best friend got married.

The night before the wedding, we stayed up late watching videos on YouTube and listening to bad hip-hop together. There was a tinge of sadness in the air as this was the last time we would ever be able to do this ever again.

This also seemingly spelt the end of our band 'Ghosthorse.' Ghosthorse was an in-joke that had gotten way out of hand. Originally designed to be a thought experiment regarding music that probably should not exist- the project became a vehicle for many, many other things. Countless in-jokes, borrowing a trombone from the Salvation Army and the constant fear of being sued by Tiokasin Ghosthorse with whom we share the same Spotify page.  

"Do things you love with people you love" - Me

The day came and went and I played my part perfectly as The Best Man - I put a hole in some rental trousers and gave an encouraging and uplifting speech but one of the more poignant moments of the whole thing was a conversation with Olivia where she made me promise that her husband and I would still make music.

Last night, I went to their new pad, equipped with cables, laptops and a microphone and we made a song. All three of us.

It's a reflection on how Jesus isn't just any man but he's accomplished great things for His people in his death and resurrection. Ashley plays some of the synthesisers on this track and Livi lends her voice to the climax. We all had a lot of fun making it and I am super grateful for friends with whom I can do this sort of stuff with.

Lyrics
Behold this man upon a tree
God's great wrath for all to see
Behold, the man, crucified
Behold the King, glorified
The Empty tomb brings forth our song
He has righted every wrong
Behold, behold, behold, behold
Now stand amazed before his grace
Exalted in the highest place

Mila Rodino

My name is Michael

I work in a school and I spend a lot of my day trying not to run down corridors as I travel from classroom to classroom. Yesterday, a boy of about seven or eight saw me approaching at speed and stopped to hold a door open for me. This boy was one of the many Bulgarian speaking children that attend my school so I decided I would try and impress him by thanking him in his mother tongue.

"Благодаря,"
"Pardon?" came the confused response.
"Never mind...Thank you."

The encounter didn't go at all how I had planned. There was no surprised look of "how does he know that?" nor was there the response of "Няма защо" I was desperately hoping for.

But I wasn't to be defeated. Later that day, another of our Bulgarian students passed my classroom. I spotted her and beckoned her in.

"Can you come in here, please? " I asked, very politely. "I want to ask you a question."
"Okay," she nodded.
"Как си?"
She shrugged.
"Добре съм" I reassured her.

An explanation for my sudden interest in the native tongue of Europe's 16th biggest country is probably needed. My school has a big Bulgarian population and I work with many of the students who are still learning to speak english. In addition to this, I had spent a lot of the previous weekend of YouTube watching a video series called "Learn Bulgarian In Three Minutes" - featuring a lovely Bulgarian woman called Iva who talked me through the formalities of saying hello, asking how people were and asking how 'vena' a small coffee cost.

For a brief second, dedicating a lot of time to learning Bulgarian seemed like a good idea. Images of myself frolicking in the Black Sea, asking for directions and giving my phone number (having learnt the numbers едно through десет!) to my new Bulgarian friends raced through my mind. However,  those blank and bewildered looks from my Bulgarian students has taught me that no matter how much time you spend teaching yourself something in your bedroom, nothing can prepare you for actually doing it when it counts. It takes more than a weekend of YouTube videos to learn Bulgarian.  And the children's reactions taught me this. Perhaps, they were shy. Maybe my pronunciation was a little off.  Personally,  I think that my interest into their mother tongue felt like a bit of an intrusion, and I can hardly blame them.

But it's not all doom and gloom... I decided to test out my newly found language skills on a third Bulgarian pupil later that day. три times the charm, right?

"Добър ден"

He smiled.

"Sort of. It's okay. Keep going"

Learn, Practise, Apply.

Also pictured: FIFA 11 and International Cricket 2010

I have always been really interested in the theory behind learning new things. Modelling, scaffolding, zones of proximal development etc. Given my vocation as an educator to children this is no bad thing. Critically analysing the way we learn things and the way we practise things can make our learning more effective. In a busy world, we need to be smart about how we learn things to achieve the best possible results. Here's what I came up with and how I applied it to learning how to read bass clef and playing it on the bass guitar.

Learn
This is the boring and tedious part. I sat down with a piece of paper with a huge scale on it. It covered about three octaves, from the lowest E to the highest D on the bass guitar. All I did was look at the piece of paper and play along. Up the scale and down the scale.It is a dull process. It was also very easy. If things are easy it is possible to get complacent, so definitely don't

Practise
In my experience, learning works best when I do something little and often. If I had a spare ten minutes at any point, I would try and get some quality bass clef time in. To practise, I picked up random pieces of music and went through them, writing the names of the notes above the crotchets, minims and quavers. When I had become familiar with reading them I tried playing them, using my notations as help if I got stuck, while trying not to rely on them too much.  I can already read the alphabet, that wasn't the point of the exercise!

It is important to remember that repetition is not always the answer. Yes, smart practise requires one to do things over and over, but it can be super unhelpful if you're making the same mistakes over and over again! Don't do that. Zoom in. Micromanage the things you find hard.

Apply
This is the tricky part. It is okay to be able to read and play notes in isolation, but playing them in the context of a piece of music is  a whole different animal. I had to give meaning to my learning! This is where the original baffling ordeal came in to play. The choir. I used the sheet music, intended for singing practise, for bass practise. Thus bringing the two together! Not only was I able to get to grips with the tunes I was meant to be singing, but I was able to reinforce my bass clef sight reading. This is what we, in the business, call efficient practise.

I'm by no means an expert and still need to carry on practising as not to undo last weeks work. However, I do feel more confident in both singing and playing which can only be a good thing. If not for me, but for those who will be listening to me and the rest of the choir in 27 days time!

Back to Basics

32 more sleeps until I sing in a choir.

I settled down to practise for the festive sing-song this evening and ended up opening a whole can of worms. I got my music out and stared blankly at it for a few moments. As a tenor, all the parts I'll be required to sing are all written on the bass stave. Despite having played bass in my church's music group for about 6 years I cannot read bass clef. This is a classic example of me 'not quite finishing the job' -This needs remedying.

I own many, many instruments; guitar, glockenspeil, violin, erhu, mandolin, ukelele but the bass guitar was my first foray into the world of music. As a teenager all of my friends were getting electric guitars and starting bands. I reasoned that, as it is a less glamorous instrument, bass players would be in short supply and high demand. All I had to do was learn the bass and I would be the most 'in demand' kid in school.

As it happened there were plenty of good bass players in Year 10 at Glyn Technology; Ben, Lewis, Nathan and Tom being the "Big Four" of four strings. Being the worst bass player at school wasn't really part of the plan so, as a result, the bass guitar got put into a cupboard never to be seen again.

Years later I discovered there was a shortage of bass players in my church's music group. This was a good opportunity to get the bass out of the cupboard and finally be of use to someone. This time the goal wasn't to get good at bass guitar so I could be popular, this time the goal was to serve the Lord by helping his people worship him in song... only I never quite learnt how to read the music.

Our first baffling ordeal is to finish learning how to read music and try to apply it.

He Has Overcome

Sometimes I finish things.

See me in the club, dwelling on my own mortaliy

One of my biggest hobbies is making music. Despite the fact I cannot play half of my instruments to an acceptable standard I sometimes manage to get a tune out of one or two of them.

In 6 years I have recorded six albums under my own name. I've covered many themes in my writing; fear, wild nights out, rejection, ghosts, europhia, the art of George W. Joy, existentialism and the Illuminati.

Here's something I actually finished this weekend. I've been toying around with the idea of including vocals in my stuff for a while but have never actually plucked up the courage to pick up the microphone.

In an attempt to sing about something meaningful I've decided that my faith was a pretty rich topic to talk about. I believe that no matter how many times I mess up, there is nothing I can do to separate myself from the love that Jesus has for me.

It's called Mountains (He Has Overcome)

An Inevitable Beginning

Corn maze. 2015. A baffling ordeal.

I got wiring loose inside my head
I got books that I never ever read

Porcupine Tree – Blackest Eyes

I've done a silly thing; I joined a choir. I consider myself to be a competent singer. Singing is fun and singing is enjoyable. The whole thing is proving to be a baffling ordeal. During one of the trickier passages I turned to my friend and said “It's impossible. It can't be done” - and therein lies my problem. It is is possible and it certainly can be done.

While wild exaggeration is probably my favourite thing, giving up is probably a close second. These two characteristics have created a deadly cocktail in which I've never finished anything.Unlearned instruments litter my bedroom. Harry Potter is doomed to never finish wizard school. Films remained unwatched. Some of the CDs are still in their cellophane! My upcoming novel has more production years behind it than chapters. Something must be done about this.

Just how many ideas, thoughts and experiences am I missing out on with my 'always say die' attitude? Many of my philosophy lecturers at University often talked about human responsibility in the arts and other disciplines as taking ideas as far as they possibly can. I believe this but I simply cannot do it so we are going to do it together. Me and you. You and I. Some of these things will be worth the wait; some of them will leave me wondering how I lived without them and others will simply be a complete waste of everybody's time.

The choir is performing on the 20^th December and I'm determined to get on that stage and belt out those festive tunes with an admirable amount of gusto. Here's hoping it won't be the baffling ordeal it currently poses itself to be. The build up to the performance will serve as the main story-arc in the opening stages of what will be an eye opening, if self indulgent, journey.