Indeed I will make no bones about it, I am a big supporter of the Olympic Games. Even though it has become a fully professional games and we will see a second Wimbledon tennis tournament this year with most of the same players taking part, it is still a great sporting occasion and one that Britain has a very decent track record (no pun intended) over the years. It is probably best that it is virtually all professional now and that aspect is out in the open. For years the USSR and DDR plus other Eastern Bloc nations would show up and win loads of medals through a mixture of ‘focus’ namely they were state sponsored full time athletes, gymnasts, weightlifters and so on, or through blatant cheating by using performance enhancing drugs. Over age ‘college’ kids from the USA would sweep up the other medals and everyone would shrug their shoulders and accept it. Great Britain would produce the occasional super performers like Daley Thompson, Steve Ovett, Sebastian Coe as well as fantastically talented and unassuming amateurs like Mary Peters and David Hemery.

Anyway I digress! For me the Olympics are fab. This year, and every four years there will be an army of volunteers who will give their time to help run the games and welcome all the visitors from overseas. But I have read reports that the volunteer army have been given strict instructions by the IOC (International Olympic Committee) on how they can and can’t use social media through the games and this has to be a really suspect decision.

Before we call for the head of Lord Coe, who has not only proved himself to be a truly world class athlete, but has run the whole enterprise with an amazing sense of professionalism and passion (much like his running ability), we have to look at the Olympic organisers, the IOC. Much like FIFA they report to no one bar themselves and make decisions without fear of consequence. And they are based in the tax haven of Switzerland, just like FIFA.  It is the Olympics themselves that have put this dictate down.

So imagine that you are one of thousands who will give up their time to help most likely nowhere near any sporting action, and you are told ‘no Twitter, no Facebook, no communication’ during the games please. Instead of encouraging thousands of volunteers to let their friends know what is happening, good or bad, direct from the coal face and in the process generating millions of Olympic tags, you snap that off at the source and introduce dark ages rules that will only irk those who are giving up their time for the honour of helping out. Seriously the IOC need to reconsider their position and do that rather quickly.

This sort of backward thinking would have been perfectly accepted at the Bejing Games of 2008, after all China does not really like the World Wide Web, preferring the Chinese version.  But as for Britain being complicit in this outrage, well it is astonishing, out of touch and just plain wrong. We have not seen this sort of totalitarian approach to information control since Henry VIII broke with Rome, although Murdoch has had a pretty good go at playing his own special hand in recent years.

Outrageous and out of touch. Dear IOC, for the sake of your own reputation please reconsider your position on the issue of social networks for this year’s Olympics or suffer the heat that will inevitably rise as citizens reject your nonsense rules. Higher, faster, stronger in everything, thank you.

George McDonald

And we weren’t scared. Not tonight.

Not of the amazing flood of colour into the white sky this evening.

I didn’t take a picture, I just wanted to remember how it looked forever. People in the office drawn to the window; for once not by a noise of a skirmish or a nosy, but instead drawn to the amazing arcs of pink and orange and dusky red, bleeding openly, profusely; into a swirling, inky sky.

A lava lamp over LS5.

Kirkstall Brewery silhouetted like a cut-out velvet dress pattern against molten gold.

As soon as the sunset arrived, it departed; leaving trails of suset fingers dipping into the violet black of a January night.

I didn’t have a camera to hand to capture it, but I wanted to remember how shocked I was at how shocked I could be by something that has happened every day since forever ago and will continue to do so forever again.

Twitter exploded into its own sunset of sunsets shortly after night fell. Some people had caught it in part, but almost everyone said that no photograph could do it justice. Here are some of my favourites:

Magical.

All photos via Twitter.

The Measure in the Guardian remains to be convinced, but I reckon this hue definitely has legs. Not quite subdued enough to be one of spring’s hot pastels yet not bright enough to scream summer holidays, it’s an unassuming, subtle hue that is already finding its way into graphic design, interiors and fashion.

Tangerine Tango reminds me of something that Mailchimp would use on their website (which, for the record, I adore) and a pair of jeans in this colour would be the perfect item to add a bit of lift to my winter wardrobe.

ASOS call these jeans ‘peach red’, but they’ll do for now until I find the pair I want. The ones I love are currently available from Dylan George but just not online.

I’m on board.

Granted, it’s not the most eloquent thing I’ve ever tweeted but it felt good to have it included in a blog that I look to when I want an interesting or an inspiring read.

Did you watch Charlie Brooker’s (well, Jesse Armstrong’s…) Black Mirror? What did you think to it?

I’ve really enjoyed the project and have met some amazing bloggers through it. Whilst I know it’s not going to carry on with the same momentum, I hope people keep blogging, especially Ian (moaner. Funny moaner), Pete (one a day poppa), Nick (one sentence film reviews) and Ben (awesome, awesome drawings); all of whom keep awesome blogs in very different ways.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 17,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

I don’t really go in for resolutions, but I definitely resolve to write more for pleasure this year. Will you carry on blogging in 2012?

via Review of my #oneaday blogging efforts.

So to kick off – I’ve not run QRSS much recently and so I decided that I should give it another go.  I switched my QRSS labs 40m kit on at shortly after midnight on day #364 and was able to find a good trace from the Pensacola Snapper in Florida later in the morning.

G6NHU QRSS on 40m to Pensacola

(click the image for a larger version)

The trace highlighted by the two brackets is my transmission and you can clearly see it from switch on when it warms up and drifts down by 25Hz or so.  My signals were readable in Florida up to around 10:00z.  It still amazes me how far such a low power signal can travel, the 30m QRSS station we have running at the Martello Tower is regularly heard over the whole planet and it’s running around 100mW.  I left my 40m QRSS transmitter on for most of the day so therefore I didn’t use that band at all for QSOs on day #364.

I first spoke to EW6DX, Igor on 15m.  I’d worked Igor before on 10m and 12m so to add another band, we QSYd to 18MHz for another QSO.  After that I spoke to UP20BEW, Alex on 15m and VU2RBI in India on 12m. I called CQ for a while on 10m and worked M0HKB, Kieron who’s not too far from me in Felixstowe.  There were lots of band changes today and I next went back to 15m and spoke with HZ1FI, Tom in Saudi Arabia. I then changed back to 10m and spoke to HS0ZIN, Paul in Thailand and RA3DQO, Eugene.  I band changed again to 15m and worked UP20LWZ, Jana.  One more band change later to 17m to work CT2IOI and then it was back to 12m to talk to CO6LC, Ori and UT/F5RAV, Luc.  I ended up the evening by talking to YT3PL, Lui. on 20m.  Lui was the very first person I worked this year at just after midnight on the 1st of January so it was quite a coincidence to talk to him again right at the end of the project.

Day #365 was a busy day.  I really did some of everything on the final day of QSO365, I worked every HF band that I have capabilities for and I managed pretty much all modes that I can comfortably run.  I woke up really early (it was just after 06:00) and started off the day on 40m JT65 where I worked EA7GDC, Manuel.  I then went back to bed!  When I got up properly I first spoke to YO9HP on 20m followed by IK3ABY/P, Stefano on the same band.  I moved to 15m and spoke to Z30U, Alec and then managed to get through a pileup to work 7X2ARA/P5 in Algeria.  I also worked IZ7DOK, Marco and SV3FUP/M, Aris on the same band.  After that I changed to 20m to speak to EA3PT, Jordi and then moved to 15m in order to work ER1VS, Vic.

After that I had three QSOs using PSK31 on 20m, I worked 9A4KW, Kiko, UT9LI, Sergio and SP3NGI, Met.  I stayed on data and used RTTY to work UA3DDT, Alex and then changed to ROS16 to have a quick QSO with OH3FZQ, Juha.  I then dropped onto 40m for a sked with my brother, G4GHU, Terry and after that had a long chat on the same band with G7BXU, Steve in Reading.  Keen to work more modes, I called CQ on 10m FM and spoke to George, SV9IOM.  I moved to 12m and spoke with A71AM, Saif in Qatar and then worked Pablo, EA3EVL on 17m.  I realised that I’d not used 30m yet so changed to that band and saw PA9CC calling CQ using JT65 and he was such a big signal that it was an easy QSO.  The next one wasn’t so easy though, it took a while to get through the pileup to talk to KP2/SM4KYN, Anders on the US Virgin Islands on 10m.  An easier QSO was with VA3ZDX, Greg on the same band.

I knew I wanted to work someone using AM and had tried a few calls on 10m on 29.000MHz earlier with no response.  I’d seen a couple of DX Cluster spots for my friend John, G3YPZ using AM on both 10m and 15m so I followed him onto 15m and heard the end of a QSO he was having.  The other station QSYd down 5KHz so I was straight there and called him without even setting up the amplifier so I was just running 5 watts.  He heard me and so I had a nice QSO on 15m AM using 5w with Dan, W1UR in New Hampshire at a distance of a little over 3,200 miles.    I had to put the amplifier on for the next QSO though as there was a massive pileup.  I finally got through to work KG2A/VP2, Kei in Bermuda for a new DXCC entity on 15m.  After that I had another sked, this time it was a very easy one – I worked my son, David, M6DHU on 15m for the first time.  I then switched to 20m and had a couple of contacts, I worked IW7DKS, Gil and 7Z1SJ, Suli in Saudi Arabia.  I finished the day and therefore the QSO365 project by working K6YRA, Allen on 17m.

I decided to take part in this one a day posting challenge in order to increase my creative output and I think it’s worked quite well. Despite all the ruminations on how to play the blogging game and the occasional whine about readers, I knew what I was writing was never going to set the world alight. Really, how could it? I’m 26 years old and as far as I’m concerned I’m still learning a lot about the creative process. My writing improves on a daily basis and the only reason I can say that is because of this blog. Perhaps one day I’ll write something truly great, something worthy of critical appreciation or perhaps I won’t, either way it doesn’t matter. I’ve obtained a greater sense of enjoyment through writing for this blog and that’s been invaluable.

Let’s get personal. Before I started the project a lot of what I was writing was driven almost exclusively by existential angst. I was in a dark place, and the only way I felt I could make sense of this meaningless existence was to leave my mark on the world. Not just on my close friends and family but wider than that; to be remembered for something. By writing every day, I thought, it meant I could finally craft the speck of talent I had for writing into something powerful, useful and remarkable.

That’s changed.

Writing has always come naturally to me. When I cleaned out my Mum’s loft earlier on this year the report cards that we found which were from my primary school years spoke highly of my writing ability. It seemed that those teachers thought that my skills were beyond that of my classmates and that my mathematics skills were stunningly average. The latter hasn’t changed, but has the former? I’m loath to say that I’m a good writer, or even a better writer than the average person but I do get immense enjoyment from both writing.

Having spent Christmas with my family, my Gran and my Mum were eager to tell Jennifer of how I used to be able to name the make and model of every single car I could see in the street. They said this was because I used to read Auto-Mart constantly as a child. Apparently there are even a few photos floating around of me sitting reading the newspaper when I was two years old.

So perhaps the ease I feel I have at expressing myself through writing comes directly from that. Who knows.

I suppose I’m getting away from the point a little here. I’ve struggled to feel as though I’m a competent musician from the moment I picked up a guitar on my 17^th birthday. Writing lyrics was easy, writing music was hard. I neglected writing for a while, dallying with nonsense poetry and rubbish prose. Perhaps somewhat fortuitously, starting university, studying literature and my band breaking up all happened around about the same time in 2010. When I heard a friend was going to do a one a day blogging project (he didn’t see it through) I thought I’d do something similar to not only enhance my writing but to perhaps also apply the knowledge of literature I had begun to learn in university in a practical way.

The stars seemed to align, as it were.

Over at the Daily Post, they’ve asked us to look back at our blogs and to reflect on our blogging in 2011. The first question is why did you started the post a day/week challenge? so I think I’ve just answered that pretty comprehensively above.

The second is Describe the state of your blog the time your started the challenge? well, when I started the challenge I had two blogs, one for creative writing and one for more critical, journalistic writing. I binned the latter and dumped everything into the this one. Before that, Brain Echo was simply a creative echo, a collection of rubbish creative writing (bar the odd decent flash fiction/fragment). That actually ties quite nicely into question three, “how did your blog evolve over the course of the year?” Well it had a bit everything, really. I started with a schedule in mind but I never really followed through. It just became a mash of fiction, poetry, articles, mixtapes and the odd video or two. It seems this blogging strategy worked well for me, although it may not have necessarily have done so for the readers of this blog…

Did I post as often as I’d hoped? Well, given that I’m on the final day I’d say yes. Well, that’s a lie. I didn’t post as often as I’d hoped because recently I’ve had no internet connection, thus making it difficult to actually post something. I missed two or three days but it couldn’t be helped.

I probably wouldn’t do anything differently if I started again, purely because this blog has been a voyage of discovery, a way for me to push my own creative boundaries. In that sense it’s taken me places that I’d never thought I’d go.

The thing I’m most proud of accomplishing this year is almost certainly having some poetry published in From Glasgow to Saturn. Without the drive this blog has given me, it wouldn’t have happened.

Now here’s the question I really wanted to answer: what surprised you about the challenge? The difficulty of it. Challenge is definitely the correct term. Although I’ve already said that writing seems to come naturally to me, there’s still an immense amount of work involved in creative writing. Rarely does an idea hit the page fully formed. Editing and redrafting are definitely the aim of the game.

On a similar note, the study of literature is very much about the dissection of books, their themes and their impact on society. When I was in school I used to think that we were looking too much into books, and that all the imagery, metaphors and deep textual analysis was essentially just trying to find something that wasn’t really intended to be there by the author. However, when I started studying literature it dawned on me that many authors and poets actually do intend to layer their work with meaning. Yet, this opinion changed again when I started studying creative writing. Most authors take care of plot and characters first before adding in that extra layer. In fact, it appears that a lot of that extra layer stuff is added subconsciously by many authors.

It seems that a little of both is involved; on one hand the author sometimes intends to imbue their work with many layers and sometimes they just do it subconsciously. That’s really what makes textual analysis of novels and poems so exciting.

The hardest part of writing for me was doing that. Many people can write pretty words, but it’s very hard to write pretty words with multiple meanings or with fantastic imagery and that works on different levels. I’m not sure I’ve succeeded yet, nevertheless when I’m writing I tend to keep these things in mind.

Creative writing is not an easy thing to do and you have to work very hard to be any good at it. No one just spits out genius on the page, not even the absolute greats. So perhaps, above all, that’s what this blog has taught me the most – even if it is hard work, as long as you enjoy it, the effort is worth it in the end.

What advice would I give to bloggers who want to blog regularly? Have a theme in mind or a goal, but don’t beat yourself up if you go off topic or stray from the path towards that goal. I’d also so say just do it. When you make the commitment make sure you’re entirely aware of what it entails because a lot of the time you might be too exhausted to post. If that ever happens, post about it. Just write every day. It helps, trust me.

Truth be told, I never really did play the blogging game in the end. Between uni, work and creativity the only blogs I came across are the ones who came across me first. If you’re following me and you’re reading this, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read whatever I had to say. I didn’t start this in order to have a legion of regular readers however the fact I have just a few really is tremendous and I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed it. My gratitude to you guys is eternal.

For 2012 I’m going to blog less, maybe only once or twice a week. Instead what I hope to do is focus on writing a whole lot more. You place a great deal of pressure on  yourself when you’ve agreed to blog every day for a year, often meaning that you’ll end up posting things which could use a little more work just so that you have content for that day. That’s what I’m looking forward to the most; the pressure of having to post something but without the daily timeframe. More editing, more redrafting and more writing for 2012 with the goal of creating work which surpasses anything I’ve done so far.

Oh dear, I seemed to have rambled now for nearly 1600 words. I’ll wrap this up then, shall I?

Personally 2011 has been a pretty poor year. For my closest friends, family and I this year has been pretty grim. Creatively it’s been great (with very little of the creative output focussing on the events going on around me) so hopefully it’ll get even better next year.

With every ounce of my being I thank you for reading this. I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed reading my blog as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Tonight, a chapter ends but the book is still being written. I hope you stick around in 2012.

As 2011 draws to a close we find that many of our favourite music websites or magazines publish their end of year lists, vaguely detailing in less than 100 words per record why these albums deserve to be called the best of the year. It’s an interesting procedure, to distil the reasons one feels the way they do about a record into an orderly list. There’s something very clinical and calculating about it which is the contradicts everything music is about. We don’t experience music in a top 10 or top 20 lists. Even us reviewers find it hard to say anything of any real merit in less than a hundred words, so I’m asking why bother? I’m not sure we experience music in this way and here’s why.

At the start of November I was fortunate enough to persuade some person in some PR company to let me go see Rise Against, Polar Bear Club and Tom Morello for free. All I had to do in return was do a little write up about it and since that’s primarily what I do on this Daily Dischord, as well as being something I happen to enjoy, I was more than happy to oblige.

In many ways that concert summed up the reasons why I enjoy writing about music whilst paradoxically highlighting a few of the things which make writing about music difficult. The creation of rock music comes from a primal, emotional place, providing an experience which is difficult to convey in words. Similarly, the performance of music, even those which are highly choreographed, comes from that same place and by attending gigs we are expected to identify with what’s being felt on stage, usually because the band we’re saying create music which speaks to us in some way.

The best rock music is vitriolic and passionate, soaked in a miasma of emotions that resonates with the listener in a variety of ways. That’s what makes writing about rock music so difficult; be it a good album or a bad one, a great live performance or a shambles, we’re attempting to distil the cataclysm of feeling and intent into one space, trying our very best to articulate why we do or do not identify with what we’re hearing. As I’m sure you’re aware, the best write ups on records or concerts are ones which convey a nuanced sense of excitement about what the artist has tried to achieve with their performance, subsequently judging whether or not they were successful in getting that message across. Even a highly polished rock record has an energy about it which is unquantifiable and really quite unexplainable. Almost as if you can feel the electricity on the disc or music file leap off at you before you hit play. A good write up gives you just a hint at what kind of experience you’re missing out on. That’s why we music writers enjoy doing what we do. It’s a challenging thing but my god is it one we relish.

Rock n roll music and all of its exponents, from black metal to math rock and everything in between, is an all about an emotional connection. Some reviews articulate the importance of that connection pretty well and some of them don’t but all of them try.

This is what made the aforementioned Rise Against show an interesting experience for me. Rage Against the Machine’s Tom Morello is responsible for not only one of my favourite records of all time, but one of the most important records of all time and that rarest of things: a perfect debut album. Rise Against on the other hand, up until recently, were probably one of my favourite bands of all time, having released four records which really got me into punk music. Polar Bear Club have also just released one of my favourite records of 2011, a record which is filled with such pure melodic goodness that it demonstrates that one need not emulate Jimmy Eat World in order to craft brilliant earnest punk rock.

Three generations of music were represented that night, demonstrating just how important that emotional connection was to their legions of fans. After the show had finished, I realised that I’d lost that connection with Rise Against and truth be told, that was pretty sad thing no matter how inevitable it was going to be.

These days my tastes are squarely of the punk rock persuasion; very much a genre of music which is raggedy, shambolic, cathartic and often messy and directionless. It spits at you, it bleeds, it’s chaotic – it’s brilliant. Of course, mere words are not enough to express exactly what it is, but that’s about as close as I can get. You’d need to listen to the records to get an understanding about what it is.

So as the end of the year rolls around music publications of all shapes and forms start to compile and publish their end of year lists (or if you’re Q magazines you’ve probably just spent the past 12 months compiling magazines of lists about any number of things) and yet there is definitely is something undeniably scientific about this. Compiling a top 5, 10 or even a top 50 list is cold, analytical, and almost surgical. It demands a ranking of artistic quality in an empirical way. It is a process which is so restrained that it is the antithesis of everything rock music (in all forms) means.

Perhaps more fundamentally though, it is not the way we experience music. We do not experience music with a cold precision; it is an art form which kicks and screams at us. We experience music in an uncompromising way yet an end of year list tries to boil down a year’s worth of records into a couple of lines, giving us no sense of the passion or feelings of the individual who’s written it. No matter how well written the list is it tells us nothing about the way the writer has experienced the music they’ve categorised. The majority of us find music and experience it in a way which is important, impassioned and energetic. To attempt to quantify that any more than we have in reviews throughout the year is unnatural. We shouldn’t do it. So why do we feel we have to?

Every day a piece of ourselves is lost
when we move a little, shed a little, dust a little.

Dead cells tell a story;
our whole lives could be replayed in the dust that fell

to the floor when I was down cleaning on hands and knees,
and memories of the past came floating back.

From the fight in ’07, when the wind was howling outside,
I thought we’d never see the end of it until you held me close and sighed,

To the day you graduated in ’09, when we drank until we couldn’t see,
and fell home drunk, glad that the silly black flat hat signalled the end of your degree.

Or that time when you dropped the ashtray
and it shattered on the floor, causing the neighbour below

to bang on the ceiling, disturbing the dust some more.
The events of our lives are distributed amongst our possessions

with a fine layer of grey which chronicles the passage of time,
little bits of dust, fragments from a life before.

Dust is where we came from
Dust is what we become

Dust is perhaps where we belong.

It was quite good working Norman because I’ve spoken to him under his own callsign a few times this year, 5B4AIF.  Norman did a really good job of working his pileup, one of the best I’ve experienced.  Firstly he was changing his split frequency to keep people on their toes and it was on one of those changes that I worked him.  He asked me if there were many UK stations calling and as he’d been ‘spotted’ on Twitter I said that there were.  He then proceeded to tell the pileup that he wanted to work ten UK stations before moving back to working the rest of Europe and made sure that he did.  At one point he said that if anyone outside the UK were to call him, he’d increase the number of UK stations he worked so it would take even longer to get back to working anyone.  It eventually worked and the EU ‘zoo’ quietened down.  It quietened down far enough that even my lad, David, M6DHU was able to work him on just ten watts.  Well done, Norman, you did a sterling job.

On day #362 I first worked EO20X, a Ukrainian special event station and YO9ICT on 15m before QSYing to 20m and talking to S56KZ, Beno, EA7ISH, Frank, RA0ACM, Serge and SP9YFF/P, Jan.  I then spoke to LY2PX, Willy in Lithuania on 15m and IK0GDG on 40m.  Later in the evening I worked a nice run of JT65 stations on 40m, they were OZ1AXG, UR5XFQ, VA2DC, IN3ACW, RN6AM, KA2AEY and IK2DJV.

I had two QSOs on 15m JT65 to start day #363, firstly I worked LU2XPK, Oscar in Argentina via long path and then DM3VPJ, Uwe.  After that I spoke to VK6ANC, Rich in Perth on 10m followed by EO20UU, Bob on 20m.  I moved back to 15m to work RV9YP, Alex who had a huge pileup going, US1GCU, Leo and VU2CEO, San in India.  I then spoke to EK6TA, Hovik in Armenia and CU1EZ, Costa in the Azores on 12m.  After that I went to 15m again and spoke with CO6LC, Ori in Cuba, VK2IZI, Neil near Sydney, N2MM, Carol and VU2XO, Patel in India.

I’ve been hearing about the ‘ROS‘ datamode recently and wanted to give it a try.  I downloaded and installed it and after some messing about I managed to make it work and work quite well it did.  My first QSO was with VK6GWM, Glenn on 15m running just 20w.  I followed that up by also working UA3EKK, Anatoliy on the same band and UX1LW, Andy on 20m.  Although ROS seems to work well enough, I’m not sure it’s a mode I’ll use much.  It’s very wide bandwidth at over 2kHz and that in itself is good enough reason for me to steer clear of it as that seems a dreadful waste of space.  A little later in the day I spoke to M0MCV, Bob on 40m to wrap things up.  I often work Bob when I’m at the Martello Tower operating our contest station so it was nice to work him outside of a contest environment.

“I think this man needs a-“  Edward tried to call for help but then he too started coughing. All around him people started falling to the floor and Edward found that he was not only negotiating tables and chairs but also fallen bodies on his way to the exit. Finding it increasingly difficult to move, Edward attempted to cross the room to the door but failed to get very far. He felt his chest tightening up whilst he struggled to take a breath. Falling to his knees he caught a glimpse of the man in the black suit who had attracted his attention before. Bodies crumbled to the floor, people panicked and attempted to flee. People were falling over one another convulsing; some of them attempted to scream yet it was all in vain, screams replacing with frustrated gargling sounds. In the middle of it all was this man standing with the same morose look on his face, people now clawing at his legs as he advanced through the throng towards the exit. The identity of this man dawn on Edward as he released what his presence meant  and it became clear to him what he had to do.

With every single ounce of strength left his body, Edward pulled himself up, blood dripping from his mouth, attempting to control the convulsions that were threatening to pull his body back down to the floor. The man turned to look at Edward, shocked that he was able to stand given his condition. He looked around him and noticed that it was only he and Edward who standing in a cafeteria strewn with bodies. Edward launched himself at the man and pulled him to the ground, both men falling to the floor on a blanket of corpses. It took the man a moment or two to register this and by the time he had tried to fight Edward off, it was too late. Ivins was now singularly focused on one task – to kill this man, to stop him from committing such atrocities elsewhere. Using all of the remaining strength he could gather Edward wrestled with the man, fighting his way on top of him, screeching and clawing at him as he spat and coughed blood, bringing his hands around his neck and squeezing as tight as he could.

The man tried to fight back but to no avail. Despite his weakened state Edward seemed to have an almost supernatural strength, squeezing the man’s neck as hard as he could until his body slowly gave up fighting and his eyes rolled back into his head, a look of terror on his face Edward held on as long as he could, spluttering and squirming as he straddled the man’s now lifeless body. Eventually he gave into the convulsions and collapsed on top of him, keeping both hands around his neck.

As the light in his eyes faded, Mr Edward Ivins thought of his daughter and those dice cufflinks, eventually coming to realise that no plan in the world could ever have accounted for this. In a place where order and routine reigned supreme, at precisely 13.23pm on Wednesday April 20^th 2011 Mr Edward Ivins broke from his schedule to save the world on his lunch break. The world has never been the same since.

And so we reach the conclusion of Edward Ivins story. I enjoyed writing this, even if I have perhaps overwritten the end a little. I’m sure this’ll be sorted as I redraft it further. enjoy!

This was a great year for me. I want 2012 to be a year where I shape and focus the potential energy from 2011.

Bye for now.

Part three of Mr Ivins’ story. Enjoy!

Nevertheless, he decided to press the girl a little more. For a moment he wondered if she might be attracted to him, the thought made his stomach flutter a little. The allure of someone else was exciting, and he thought he’d see if there was anything in it.

“So, what about right now, are you late or early?”
“Well, if it’s 13.08-“
“13.11, actually.”
“If it’s 13.11, then I’m early. Although I said to my friend that I’d get her outside the library at around 20 past 1 so I’ve got some time to kill.”

The girl said “13.11” almost mockingly. Regimented and with a smile. Ivins liked it.

“What is it you do, Eddie?”
“Eddie?”
“All Edwards are nicknamed Eddie.” Said Ariadne definitively. Edward couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh Eddie, is it? That’s a new one.”
“What? Hasn’t anyone ever called you Eddie before?”
“Not since high school, no.”
“Not even your wife?”

She was observant. Edward was surprised by that; another thing he liked about her. He was beginning to warm to her, her uncoordinated sense of style, the way she tilted her head back when she laughed, her lack of timekeeping and the way her life appears to be unbound by schedules were all attractive to the regimental Mr Ivins. It was an idle attraction though; he was a happily married man. He had children. She was younger than he was, or so he presumed, nevertheless it was fun to feel that spark of attraction. Not even his wife called him Eddie. He hated it.

“No, not even my wife.”
“How long have you been married for?”
“Oh, a while, y’know…”

This made him uncomfortable because he didn’t want to talk about his wife to this beautiful girl. Even her name was beautiful. He just wanted to find out more about her.

“Are you married yourself?” he said,
“Ah, no. What age do you think I am?”
“Mid 20s? What age do you think I am?”
“Mid 30s?”
“Ha. Close. 41.”
“You look great for someone in their 40s.”

Is that a compliment? Should I ask? Is she flirting? All of these thoughts occurred simultaneously in Edward’s head.

“It’s the scheduling.”
“The scheduling.”
“Oh yes, I have a schedule I must keep to every day. It ensures stress free living.”
“But what if things don’t go according to the schedule?”
“The schedule is moderately flexible, so it allows for things going wrong.”
“I see. Did your wife come up with that?”
“Oh no. Heavens no. She hates it.”
“And does she look older than she should because of that?”
“Well, I…”

The girl suddenly started laughing. It took a moment for Edward to realise that she was joking. He blushed and looked bashfully down at his screen. When he looked back up she was smiling again so he laughed, partly at his own reaction and partly in relief.

“She looks good, I suppose. I certainly have no complaints.”

Her eyes flashed as she took a sip of her coffee. Was that doubt? He had no idea. She was still smiling.

“That’s good. Happy marriages are good, aren’t they?”
“Indeed.”
“Anyway. What time is it now?”
“13- er, 1:14”
“Okay. Well, I must be off then. It was nice chatting with you Edward. Maybe we’ll cross paths again sometime. I know so much about you now that I could probably stalk you if I wanted.”

She winked and flashed a playful smile. Edward had no idea if he should be alarmed or elated.

“Yes, quite. It was nice to meet you too, Ariadne.”
“Bye then.”

And with that she was gone. Edward watched her walk out of the library. It was almost as if she’d never been there, as if she were some kind of dream. He thought perhaps he was attracted to her, but it had been so long that he’d forgotten what new attraction felt like.

Allowing himself to be distracted for a moment with thoughts of this mysterious girl, Edward noticed a chap in a black suit weaving in and out of the tables, pausing periodically and placing his hand on a chair before moving on again. An entirely unremarkable looking gentleman who by all accounts looked dressed for a funeral with neatly cropped hair and some rather fashionable looking stubble. After doing a circuit or two of the room he retreated to the far corner to sit at the very last table next to the window. Ivins gaze followed the man to his table where he sat with his head down for a moment. The man then reached inside his jacket and produced what appeared to be a small vial, opened it and necked the contents. He then started to slowly scan the room as he if were looking for someone, before resting his gaze on the door. Irvins had no idea why this man had drawn his attention, perhaps it was the funeral attire or the morose look on his face, either way he shook it off and returned to his work only to be interrupted by someone coughing loudly behind him. Wary of catching something, Edward moved his chair to the left as loudly as possible but the coughing only grew louder.

On day #359 which was Christmas Day I knew I wasn’t going to be on the air much so I’d mentioned on Twitter the day before that I was going to spend a short time on 40m if anyone wanted to work me.  I fired up the radio and amplifier early afternoon and tweeted that I was on the air and the frequency I was on.  It gave a few people who have been following the progress of QSO365 the chance to work me and get in the log.  I worked M0EAO, Colin in Boston before I tweeted and then had a string of twitterers call me.  I spoke to G8NWC, Graham in Spalding, G7UVW, Dave in London, G0BVD, Phil in Great Torrington, G3SED, Mike in Southampton and M6PAP, Pete in Chichester over a period of about half an hour.  Around mid afternoon I had one quick 20m JT65 QSO working K2AK, Jeff.

We traditionally spend Boxing Day which was day #360 with the rest of my immediate family so before we went out I had my spell on the radio.  Because it was still tuned to the 20m JT65 frequency from the previous day I first worked OE7GJ, Rudolf and then changed to SSB.  I spoke with YO7KVE, Vali on 15m and then OD5PY on 10m followed by SV9JI, Manos on the Island of Crete.  After that I moved to 20m and spoke to SP5DZC, Jan and S57UN, Renato.  Just before we were about to go out I had a phone call from Tony, G0MBA asking me about JT65 and so to go through it with him, we worked on 40m using that mode.

Day #353
KJ4QXC, Dan and UA1ZFL, Vladimir.

Day #354
W2BT, William and KJ4FEC, Andrew.

Day #355
W0JG, Jack and N7BPA, Jackie in the morning and then a few more that evening. F5SYQ, KA1ERL, PY3ED, F6CEE and W5ADD.

Day #356
W0KIT, Douglas, IZ0MIO, Armando and IK4UXA, Stefano.

Day #357
SP5USL, Mario, UX1LU, Igor and IK2GXE, Guiseppe.

Edward finished consuming lunch at 13.03 giving him enough time to go over the Edinburgh accounts before heading back to the office. He had noticed that table space in the café had become sparse, so was not entirely surprised when a young lady asked if she could join him at his table.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”
“Not at all. Please, go right ahead.”

In Mr Ivins’ opinion, the woman that had taken the seat across from him was particularly pretty. He attempted to pay her close attention without making it seem like his eyes were straying from his computer. Her attire was a rag tag mix of blues and greens and reds, clothes seemingly chosen at random, he thought, with no sense of coordination between colours or patterns. Her long dark green overcoat had a warm, Christmassy quality and her red scarf did nothing to dispel this feeling. She rounded off this unordered mix of clothing with a blue hat which had a bird shaped broach attached to it. Analysis complete, the Edinburgh accounts demanded his attention and he looked back at his laptop. It was 13.07 and he had merely 20 minutes before he must be back at his desk. He could afford no further distraction, mentally chided himself for this and also for looking at another woman when he was a happily married man of 15 years. No, no, this kind of disorder could not do, he thought.

“You don’t happen to have the time, do you?”

Edward was aghast, surely this woman had a time keeping device? Even mobile phones have clocks on them. What was the meaning of this? How could one live their life asking others for the time?

“Er, yes. It’s 13.07. Oh no, it’s 13.08 now. My apologies.”
“Thanks. I guess I should buy a watch one of these days…”

Irvins smiled at her; that would definitely be a good idea.

“Quite.”

He returned to his work, yet at the back of his mind he could not escape the thought of someone existing without a time piece. It was quite the distraction, and Irvins could restrain himself no longer. He had to ask;

“Excuse me, Mrs…”
“Miss, actually.”

She tilted her head and gave him a warm smile. He noticed her soft blue eyes were beautifully framed by two streaks of blond hair which protruded from underneath either side of her hat.

“Er, yes. Miss. Sorry. How do you-“
“I don’t like that old, do I?”

She let out a silvery laugh which seemed to shimmer in the air, the kind of laugh that could get a woman into a lot of trouble in a library.

“No, no. No. Not at all. No! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Oh, it’s fine. It doesn’t happen often, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

The girl held on to the “fi” in “fine” for a while, extending it a little as if it were a tick. She smiled again as Edward blushed. He wasn’t used to her forward nature.

“I’m Ariadne, by the way.”
“Edward. Edward Irvins.”
“It’s nice to meet you Edward. You were saying?”
“Ah, yes. Sorry. I was just wondering…how do you get by without a watch? Don’t you have a phone which keeps the time?”
“Nah, I don’t have a phone. I don’t like the idea of someone being able to contact me whenever or wherever I am.”
“That seems fair, but if you don’t own a watch-“
“I know what you’re going to say – how am I ever on time? It’s not like I don’t own a clock or anything. Plus there are clocks everywhere, I just make sure I leave one place in plenty of time so that I can get to where I want to go in enough time.”
“But…what do you do if you’re running late due to unforeseen circumstances. Like if the bus is late or something, wouldn’t it be handy to have a phone in case of emergencies?”
“Yeah, maybe, but I’ve been fine so far.”

Ariadne’s smile acted like a full stop, almost as like punctuation that ended the conversation. Ivins was still confused and the thought of a schedule-less life was one he could not comprehend.

Mr Ivins polished his shoes every morning. He liked things shiny, clean, and presentable. Ivins also liked time or perhaps more specifically he liked to be on time. He liked schedules and kept to his own regimentally. He was, by all accounts, a creature of habit. All of this explains why the immaculately presented Mr Ivins had lunch at the same time in the same place every day of his working week. Today was pink shirt day, a day which consisted of a steel grey pin stripe suite, a purple tie and cufflinks in the shape of dice. Ivins was not a gambling man, but he liked the dice cufflinks his daughter gave him purely for the reason that they came from a loved one. Gambling and the concept of luck didn’t sit well with Edward, if anything his nature was fundamentally against it, reasoning that if things were planned out perfectly then one can ensure that chance only has a small say in how his day goes. With enough foresight, he thought, one can plan for anything.

This Wednesday was set to be like the many other Wednesdays that had occurred in the life of Edward Ivins. His freshly polished shoes clicked on the shiny marble floor like a metronome as he exited the bank. For years Edward had taken his lunch at twelve thirty and this because most people took it at 13.30. By taking it early, it meant he could enjoy lunch undistracted and free from nonsense chit chat. He arrived promptly at the sandwich shop adjacent to the bank at around 12.34. Monday to Thursday was generally salad roll day, something he enjoyed without a condiment so that there would be no excretion from his roll to stain his shirt or tie. Edward was well aware of how variable the queue in the sandwich shop could be, and scheduled for this appropriately, giving himself as much as five minutes lee way should the queue be extra-long. Upon receipt of his food he would walk a couple of blocks to the Starbucks on the corner arriving no later 12.41. Today he arrived at 12.40 and ordered his usual coffee in the usual manner, a manner which dispenses of the (in his words) silly names these corporate coffee shops assign to their drinks; a cappuccino with extra froth. Lunch order complete, he made his way to the library. On Wednesday 20th of April 2011, Edward Ivins arrived at the library around the corner from his bank at 12.47pm, sitting in the café at a table next to the huge two storey high window that allowed sunlight to engulf the square space. Ivins was drawn to this place not only because he could eat and work on his laptop undistracted but because he liked the shape of it. He admired the order of the café, the way people queued in an orderly fashion for their food; how the tables and chairs were arranged in straight lines from the left hand side of the room to the right; he liked the way the sun gave light to all corners of the room through the window; his awe at the glass mezzanine which jutted out like a square chin from a lovely granite effect wall; everything about this place represented order. Even the pictures on the wall were all of perfectly right angled buildings with swish modern blockish industrial architecture.

On that day he noted that the library was unusually busy, but nevertheless proceeded to take out his laptop and work through lunch. Ivins didn’t really see this as working through lunch however, because he wasn’t in work. It’s amazing what a change of scenery can do.

Yeah so we’re nearing the end of 2011 and thus the end of my challenge. More thoughts will follow on that, however I’m actually looking forward to not blogging every day so I can focus more on creative work without a deadline. I think I’ll do a post a week though.

Maybe.

Anyway, this is based on a real conversation. I tried to remember as much of it as I can, so there’s hardly any fiction in it but what it does do is give little suggestions and insights into the character of the narrator. It’s a monologue and yes, the conversation really was as one sided as it appears.

Taxi Driver (Sans Bickle)

So, how’s life? Ah’m pretty good maself. Ye sorted for Christmas, aye? Nice wan. Aye, it’s pretty cauld innit? Well me n wife ur aff tae Spain in two days; Spain fur the Christmas holidays. Lookin forward tae it. A damn sight better than here in the cauld fur Christmas ah kin tell ye. Wis jist a wee cheap deal we saw in the windae eh that Barrheed Travel oan Oswald Street. Thought it’d be nice tae get away fur Christmas tae the sun. It’s jist me n the wife ye see, aw the kids huv flown the nest so aye, that’s us, aff tae Tenerife fur ten days. Ah heard oan the radio that its tae be right cauld later oan in the week so ah’m glad tae be aff tae Spain. 60 degrees ere there, so it is. Just workin a wee bit extra fur some spending money tae take ere. Ah started at 12 and ah reckon ah’ll stay oan tae about 7 or 8 o clock the night. Ah wis gonnae start earlier but ah hud tae take me wee grandwean tae the school this mornin ye know? So aye, ah took him doon there an went back tae the hoose an that’s when the wife says tae us that we’ll need to go doon tae her brother’s the night. Ah was like why? An she wis like, cause we’re aff tae Tenerife for Christmas so ah’ll need tae gie him his Christmas present afore we go so that was like fair enough. Ah picked the wee yin up fae the school again at aboot 11 an dropped him aff at his maws then ah went doon tae the taxi rank tae talk tae some eh the drivers fur a bit an then ah decided that ah’d come oan fur the day at 12. Ah’ll tell ye man, that brother eh hers pure scunners me. He asked us tae get him 60 fags fae the duty free oan oor way back. Fur his Christmas like, y’know? The guy cannae afford them like cause he’s no workin. Husnae worked for years. He’s on that disability benefit cause he’s only goat wan leg. He’s got diabetes tae like an he was telt that if he did nae stop smokin he’d lose his leg. Did he listen but? Did he hell. He just kept oan smokin. Ah tell ye son, if somebody telt me ah was gonnae lose ma leg ah’d have stopped smokin right there on the spot. He’s a stubborn bastard, y’know? So aye, he asked us tae get him 60 fags but ah telt him naw. We cannae afford that for his Christmas plus ah didnae want tae encourage his smokin like. He’s a bit eh a plonker, just sits oan his arse aw day watchin the telly. Him and his brother, ma other brother-in-law, hate each other. He lives in England noo like. Don’t hink they’ve seen each other in years. They used tae be in the RAF thegether ye see, but stationed at different barracks’. That younger wan, the wan wae the leg, he used to borrow money aff eh loads eh folk in his barracks then no pay it back. Eventually he moved tae another barrack an when his brother moved intae the barracks he used tae be in aw the squaddies wur like, your brother owes us money an he said aye, ma brother does. No me. Ma brother. Whit ye want me tae dae aboot it? So ever since then they’ve hated each other. He even telt him tae stop smokin tae. He’s a surgeon y’know, so he knows whit he’s talkin aboot. Ah mean, what’s an aeroplane fitter gonnae know aboot amputation? Shoulda listened tae his brother cause he wis a surgeon, knows whit he’s talkin aboot so he does. Mebbe if he listened tae him he’d no be such an auld crabbit git. So aye, that’s ma night sorted efter ma shift. Crimea Street eh? Is that just next tae the MoD building aye? Just aff Brown Street aye, aye, ah know where ye ur. Ah’ll get ye there awright. Nae worries at aw son.

On day #352 I first spoke to a special event station, TM100SP, Francois on 40m before giving JT65 a run on 15m working some nice DX, RW6AB, UA4ATB, JH3XYP, JE2TLZ, JH4BTI, JI3CJP, VK4BL and UN7EN.