After 15 virtual years I've finally found out how to think again

I'm writing this in my living room: I have the TV on, my laptop in front of me and my smartphone on the armrest. Please don't take one away from me. I need them. All of them - at once.

A month ago I left it all behind. 

On the last Sunday of August I set off from the west coast of Cumbria, at St Bees, with the intention of spending 12 days walking to the North Sea. I left the bay with around 65lbs worth of camping equipment, including my mobile phone charger, despite not having any idea of how I was going to refuel my surplus brainbox. I took a few photos - because that's the generation I'm in - and switched it off. Not on standby like you do when you go to the cinema so you can have a crafty look when you feel it vibrate. Completely off. I held the power button for what felt like the longest five seconds of my life, and watched it power down like a dramatic death in a war film.

Andy (my twin brother) and I were walking for around 12 hours a day - often in single file - so I was left with my own thoughts. It was intimidating and frustrating; I was walking with two spare hands, which were used to being wrapped around my iPhone, tapping furiously on Twitter, WhatsApp, Facebook, text, Instagram, Snapchat, Safari or YouTube.

What was I going to think about for 12 days? I'd get bored... of myself. 

As we lost sight of the sea and headed east, I started to wonder if I'd end up having awkward conversations with my mind. What if I did? - I wouldn't be able to escape! The best way out situations like that is a phone, which I had on me, but couldn't bloody use!

The first evening we ended up wild camping in a forest near Ennerdale Water in the Lake District. With it being late August, the evening was bright, and, bar cooking and rolling out a few sleeping bags, Andy and I had to chat... without our phones interrupting. There were no pictures to show one another; music to play out loud; videos to watch online; or friends to stalk on Facebook.

To cut a long story short (although we did make it to the east coast), I spent 12 long days with only my thoughts and Andy. It was a revelation. Fifteen years after getting my first mobile phone - with it's extendible aerial and actual buttons - I'd finally caught up with myself.

On the train back to Birmingham I turned it on to a myriad of notifications from all the apps under the sun. Not only did I need to trawl through the monotonous crap I'd been sent, the actually apps also needed updating - meaning more notifications to sort out. It felt like, after spending almost two weeks climbing through three national parks, the biggest hurdle - the tallest mountain - was in front of me. 

Two hours later I'd battled through it - despite knowing that in a few days I'd be going back to work with more emails to read. And that's exactly what happened: I returned home and to my old life.

It's now been 15 days since I arrived in Birmingham and I'm back in the rhythm of needing to be stimulated by at least two pieces of technology at once. For example, If I'm watching TV, I'm trawling through Twitter. And - it's hard to admit - but when I go to the toilet for a Tom Tit, I can't keep my phone in my pocket. In fact, around 75 percent of adults do the same thing.

How much has this contributed to childhood depression almost doubling in a few decades? 

I think technology and social media are wrecking kids' innocence and youth. Not only are these youngsters fighting the turbulence of their adolescent years, they're also managing their avatars, which are undergoing just as much scrutiny on Facebook, Twitter and all the other new sites that clog their minds and detach them from the real life happening around them.

Everyday life has been hijacked by technology, from people missing a live gig because they've spent their whole time in the arena filming it for their online friends, to taking selfies before funerals. Search it right now on Instagram: #funeralselfie.

Don't forget to hashtag you techno-Neanderthal.

In many ways the internet and social media have improved our lives in ways that we'll never comprehend. But, on the contrary, we've plaguing our days with screens and digital clutter, leaving a generation in search of eternal stimulation.

I'm pleased I had some respite in the English fells and found peace for a few weeks of my life.

Go ahead and try it: pick up your virtual life and put it in Trash or the Recycle Bin for a few days.

Why the 50 Shades movie really will be grey

Being male, you can probably guess that the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy hasn't popped up on the 'Recommendation' section of my Amazon account. On the other hand, for many women, all three books were purchased well before websites managed to calculate previous searches and estimate future purchases.

The reason I haven't read the books is because I'm not interested. It's that simply. I haven't got a problem with the salacious content or the hype that surrounds them. But, what I have a serious issue with is the upcoming movie, which today saw its cast announced.

My issue is with the affect the film will have on readers, past and present. 

The beauty of the books is the unique fantasy for each reader. Mr Grey (Christian, I've since been informed) is a different individual for every person who meets him in their mind; his features are built on experiences and preferences - from his facial structure to the sound of his voice. And that is what a real fantasy is - a dream, an ideal. It is why the book got the juices flowing for so many women - excuse the pun. 

A lot of people who read it said to me: "that would make a great film".

No it will not. It's a fantasy. 

Once again Hollywood is not allowing people to think for themselves. Film production companies are using a fat ladle to scoop up a big pile of pop culture and spoon-feed it to the masses. Do not think for yourself! Do not have an imagination - a thrill, a Mr Grey. Hollywood will provide that.

The books - 50 Shades of Grey, 50 Shades Darker and 50 Shades Freed, were the top selling books of 2012 respectively. The first edition sold over 10 million copies - five times that of the Hunger Games, which was the fourth bestselling book of the year.

Charlie Hunnam - cast to play Christian Grey

Your version of the novel, the imagery so personally to you, is about to be wiped from your imagination and replaced with a 'real' Mr grey and censored antics. When the film is released, the recently announced Charlie Hunnam will defeat your real desired fling - an even more ominous prospect for those who are yet to read the novels.

Arguably the same could be said for Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Shakespeare and any other classic turned Hollywood success. It is however hard to argue that any novel has ever had a reaction with its audience like the Fifty Shades trilogy.

I'm not trying to be a saviour of art and I'm certainly not against blockbuster hits. But, although I'm still a Fifty Shades virgin, I do know that you wouldn't Photoshop the Mona Lisa.

Protect your own imagination.

How being at the mercy of retailers has wrecked Christmas

I was awake – and so were the rest of my family. I sat down next to the Christmas tree and stared at the dining table knowing that in a few hours’ time, Mum will have transformed the bare wooden surface into an annual feast fit for kings who have traded their metal crowns for paper ones.

In walked my family – cuppas, cards and presents at the ready.

“Merry Christmas,” I said – more pleased that the preparation was over rather than that the day had arrived.

“Yes, Merry Christmas, mate,” replied my brother – probably feeling as enthralled as me. And that’s how it felt this year; more of a financial burden that’s been forced upon us by commercial pressure and social inclusion.

“We’ll open presents to a few festive tunes,” suggested Mum. With that she turned on the television, scrolled through to a music channel and sat back down by the tree. That’s when it hit me:

‘Our 60 per cent sale now on…’

‘The half-price sale begins tomorrow…’

‘Visit our January sale online…’

Here we were about to exchange gifts – many that were bought beyond our means – and still retailers were trying to pilfer our hard earned cash on products at a fraction of the price that we initially paid out for.

But what is it all for? Are we judged on our religious ceremonial purchases? Am I a worse Uncle for not spending as much as my brother on our niece and nephew? No.

When you’re unemployed, hard up or going through a career change, Christmas is without doubt an ominous few months – despite repetitive festival tunes trying to persuade you that ‘it’s the most wonderful time of the year.’ When broke, the prices of presents feel higher; the queues at the checkouts seem longer; the voice of Noddy Holder sounds louder; and the prospect of Christmas more daunting.

So what’s the solution? Do you bite the bullet and succumb to the commercial pressure of a religious festival in a secular state? How about throwing purchases on plastic and paying it off throughout 2013? Or do you cut off the friends and relatives that you only buy for because they buy for you? The truth is that you will not admit defeat; evading an immense bank statement is not an option. Retailers and marketing geniuses have been working hard all year so you have to spend, pay, purchase, buy, borrow and sell your soul to the devil.

And what about the endless intake of Christmas cards? – Arguably the most pointless exchange of well wishes by any atheist. They’re a mythical festive façade worth millions of pounds annually.

So the fear of present buying; the busy shopping streets; the endless wrapping; the buying for people who buy for you; the anticipation of missing a delivery; and the worn-out, battered, depleted bank card all come to rest on the morning of December 25 – like a couple about to give birth in a stable in Bethlehem.

And, within minutes, it’s over.

For me, this is when Christmas really begins; I immerse myself around friends and family, enjoy foods that only arise at Christmas, and drink fine ales – three passions of mine that not everybody has in life.

So next time somebody comes across as a ‘Scrooge’, take a moment to wonder if it’s a breathless bank card that’s playing on their mind. Or, just maybe, they've grown tired of a materialistic exchange that’s taken months to prepare for.

We’ll do it all again next December.

Happy New Year

Sex Factor: misogyny and the music industry

Almost 50 years ago, in 1963, the Beatles released ‘I want to hold your hand’ – their first Number 1 hit in America. The popular tune topped the UK charts for five weeks; it was rhythmic, innocent and romantic.

Notably, times have changed since the Beatles stormed the music world, with factory made singers being projected into the limelight via Saturday night television. However, the most pernicious change in the music industry has to be the growing misogyny and sexualisation of women - a growing problem embedded in the mainstream.

In 2000, the vulgar Iranian-Danish euro-dance producer, DJ Aligator, released ‘The Whistle Song.’ The club anthem opens with the lyrics, ‘blow my whistle bitch, open up and put it in, let’s begin’. Regardless of the misogynistic tone of the song, its catchy rhythm distracts listeners from the innuendo, which allows the abuse to go unnoticed in the public domain.

The highly criticised rapper, Akon, and international DJ, David Guetta, kicked the summer of 2009 off with a collaboration that dominated the club scene for months. Titled ‘Sexy Bitch,’ the chorus cites Akon’s frustration of ‘trying to find the words to describe this girl, without being disrespectful’. At what point do women’s features become so appealing that they can’t be described without being rude?

Rap music is renowned for gloating and glorifying guns, sex and drugs. The song title ‘Candy Shop’ by rags to riches rapper, 50 Cent, sounds innocent enough until you dissect the lyrics: ‘I’ll take you to the Candy Shop, I’ll let you lick the lollipop, go ahead girl don’t you stop, keep going until you reach the spot.’

The demeaning and forceful lyrics may be swept under the carpet within a nightlife environment, but that’s where they should remain. Disappointingly, through pre-watershed exposure, Candy Shop reached number one in America, the UK, Austria, Germany, Belgium and Sweden. The song was also nominated at the 2006 Grammy Awards for Best Rap Song and the video – which was extremely sexualised, was nominated for Best Male Video at the MTV Video Music Awards in 2005.

Two years later, Soulja Boy reached number two in the UK charts with ‘Crank That.’ The tune features the line: ‘Superman that hoe.’ According to the repugnant website urbandictionary.com, ‘superman’ is when a man ejaculates onto a sleeping woman, sticks the bed sheet to her back, so when she wakes up in the morning she has a cape.

  

Women who are striving for equality must surely detest Barbadian-born Rihanna. Some may consider her outlandish approach to music as doing wonders for women. Others may disagree with Rihanna’s skimpy clothing, raunchy videos and seedy lyrics.

Rihanna’s hit, S&M, which focuses on sadomasochism, bondage and fetishes, reached number two in the UK, yet her video, which was restricted to over-18s only on YouTube because of its salacious content, couldn't be broadcasted in the UK. The video shows Rihanna sucking a banana, imitating sex with a blow-up doll, and prancing around in white latex. Her lyrics are equally as crass: ‘Sex in the air, I don’t care, I love the smell of it.’

The youthful ears of the present generation have without doubt become desensitised to the sexist remarks made by artists who profit from offending and degrading women as an art.

The question is: are we concerned? A recent survey conducted by the Chartered Institute of Marketing, found that nine in 10 parents are worried about the vulnerability of their children to advertisement.  Despite broadcasters and marketers being forced to abide to strict guidelines regarding the commercialisation of youngsters, the vulnerability of children is left open to the influence of pop music.

Having said that, there’s no doubt that the music industry has always had an element of sex appeal. But what’s concerning is the concealed sexism, which is hiding behind upbeat tunes and catchy beats.

Women are being objectified with lyrics that are overpowered by the music. Yes, women are slowly nearing equality. But, the respect that’s being shown for women – in an age where obscene pornography is easily accessible, may be changing for the worse.

Tesco value - supermarkets sweep the law industry

It all starts when you approach the sliding doors. You have to make a decision, which you’ll more than likely get wrong. Do you choose a basket for bread and milk? – Or a medium sized trolley that you’ll overfill?

The supermarkets are better than most at enticing us with deals too good to miss, and discounts which many high street stores couldn’t offer. And on more occasions than we’d like to admit, we leave the shops with additional bags of treats, bargains and reduced produce.

The large chains now provide us with an arena where we can completely fulfill our needs. It’s a convenience, which is crippling the high street and local stores.

The worse thing about it is, we don’t refuse, deny or boycott the chains for what we know is right.

Businesses up and down the UK struggle every day for your custom, and many fail to get it. We’ve become subservient to the large superstores, which you can’t deny, know how to market and promote themselves.

I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve been wandering around Tesco at midnight, looking for a last minute present. Clothing, electronics, alcohol and entertainment is all on offer. My poorly managed diary has been saved by a supermarket – and not for the first time.

The large chains are convenient.

This week it was announced that supermarkets and banks are now able to sell consumer legal services.

This change in the Legal Services Act, has added to the concern that large supermarkets are monopolising the high street.

Already, small firms are struggling to compete against the stores that are placed all over the country.
In addition to the large supermarkets, the small super-chains are just as threatening.

In quiet villages across the UK, we’re seeing condensed supermarkets dominate the community. Rebranded shops with names like ‘Express,’ ‘Local,’ ‘Metro,’ and ‘Quickstop,’ are replacing convenience stores and budging independent businesses out of trade.

Law service firms have every reason to be concerned, with the UK being full of independent law companies who have held reputable positions in the community for decades. It’s an industry, along with many, which may end up on the shelf with the fruit and veg.

Small firms are continuously finding new ways to compete against the Goliath that threatens them, with marketing and PR becoming more important than ever.

Companies are now competing against huge organisations and need to discover ways to shine.
If a business looks deep enough, it’ll find something very unique within itself that will make an excellent press release and enter the news agenda. If they can’t locate what that is, then news can always be created.

Sometimes PR Can Unexpectedly Strike Gold

A lot of people believe that ‘no news, is good news,’ and to an extent, that’s a fair comment when discussing global disasters or financial nightmares. To a journalist, no news is a stressful day in the office.

PR on the other hand, works in mysterious ways. When the ‘obvious’ news dries up, a story you wouldn’t expect to hit the headlines will step forward and illuminate under the national spotlight.

One thing that has always interested me is the length of news, regardless of the content.

ITV’s News at Ten is a 30-minute news programme which editors and producers work tirelessly to fill. Some days the news flows into the newsroom like a torrent, and other days journalists bash frantically away at keyboards in search of news. If there’s no news, why isn’t the programme shortened?

When the stories aren’t there, the news has to be found.

Today is a day when the news seems rather parched, with bin collections leading on 24-hour news channels and a Marmite-flavoured chocolate bar having many news programmes discussing whether you’ll ‘love it, or hate it.’

It was that which got me thinking. Is some news only news when there’s an opening to shine?

It’s a moment in print and broadcast, which I like to call ‘PR serendipity.’ It’s when a story is distributed to the media with no expectations of great success, yet you find that an editor has decided to publish it, or hoist it up the news agenda.

This morning was a great example of PR serendipity.

To me, a Marmite-flavoured chocolate bar sounds intriguing, yet to others, the concept may sound grotesque. On the local radio station this morning, the presenters were discussing the chocolate bar and the studio phones were rammed with callers willing to air their opinions. The relaxed topic of conversation reflected the glorious morning’s weather and that Friday feeling.

Today was an excellent opening for Marmite to have their new chocolate bar on the news agenda, and to an extent, it was down to luck.

I thought of the reaction at Marmite HQ, being aware that the country was going to wake to their brand on the radio, only to find a tsunami had struck in Asia, or Colonel Gaddafi had been captured. Without doubt the topic of conversation around the UK would have been very different.

Marmite was very lucky this morning and the lack of breaking news allowed their brand to be discussed on air. Excluding advertisement, newspapers work with the same theory. It makes you wonder what news was left off the agenda when 9/11 happened. What else were we supposed to know that day?How would News at Ten have filled a 30-minute programme?

As you can see, news works in very odd ways. Some press releases are sure to receive excellent coverage, regardless of the day’s news, where some have to strike lucky.

Sometimes, when you think there isn’t a story, or the press release you want distributing isn’t strong enough to gain prolific publication, it may well come back and surprise you.

'Big society' - Britain is too fat

A thousand years ago, Great Britain’s major threats were simple: invasion and infection. Welcome to the year 2011, where small bottles of antibacterial gel found in hospitals and handbags, assist in the limitation of infections spreading; and Great Britain shares an aircraft carrier with the French. Yes, times have changed. The biggest threat to this country now, is our infamous ability to eat.

Last week, Great Britain was handed a treat from our coalition government; a little present to ease our lives; a gift for being good, taxpaying citizens – a fleet of robust ambulances for fatties. The new vehicles are equipped with wider doors, stronger stretchers and a winch to get those over-indulging, in and out of the ambulance with little strain on the staff. The new trucks are capable of transporting any patient to hospital who weighs up to fifty stone; a sympathetic gesture from David Cameron and his band of merry men who want to cut, cut, cut.

The ambulances are by no means cheap. A fully equipped ambulance – with the full range of obesity modified equipment, will cost up to £90,000. Buying a new heavy-duty, adjustable stretcher will alone cost £10,000. And a lifting cushion to help large patients off the floor will cost £2,500.

Last week it was announced that the Midlands has become the fattest location on the European map. This is why they’ve snapped up 10 new bariatric ambulances. Nigel Wells, an operations manager at the trust said: “it is all about safety for our patients and the safety for our crews. We now have a greater number of patients who are larger in size.”

Obesity is costing the UK over four billion pounds annually; that’s more than we spend, as a nation, on fast food. At a time where our financially strained NHS is facing cuts, more money is needed to deal with the country’s growing waistline – starting with the infrastructure of patient transport. Maybe we’re too lenient with our free healthcare. How about a fat tax? Would paying for treatment ensure that Britons would do their best to keep the weight off – just like America? Having said that, the US is not the best role model when equating obesity and the finance of health treatment, with one in three children born in the year 2000 set to suffer from diabetes.

The ominous epidemic that haunts the health service is getting worse. When will something change and see the country return to normality? When will bariatric ambulances be decommissioned and see a ‘normal’ ambulance fleet on the streets of Great Britain.

Maybe this is what David Cameron meant when he said the ‘Big Society.’