My Favourite Christmas Present 2009

What did you get for Christmas? Was it good? Yeah, but was it as good as the greatest present in the world? Because I got that. That's right, I got an AZTEC Mini Fan/Light!

You can see some of the cool features below. My left thumb covers the on/off switch for the 12 x LED light, whilst on the right you can see the switch for the fan, complete with variable speeds of off, low, and high. More like off, excellent, and amazing!

The product itself has a heavy rugged feel to it, and it could easily be used to incapacitate a bear. I would recommend not carrying the AZTEC Mini Fan/Light more than a few feet, as you are likely to be overcome by exhaustion from the weight, but if this does happen, it comes with a handy built-in fold-out stand so you can be both cool and well lit while waiting for help.

Here is me enjoying the AZTEC Mini Fan/Light. I find the extreme brightness pleasing.

But what manner of magic is needed to make such a gadget work? Mere regular batteries will not suffice, surely they do not provide the awesome power needed for the unnatural combination of two of natures greatest elements. We must look then to the battery of the gods, the mighty Duracell Plus D Cell!

And not just one, but six! Six D Cell batteries? We see now that AZTEC Mini Fan/Light is not a toy, not even a casual gadget, but a weapon, a force for good or evil, whichever it's master chooses, with its six D Cell batteries, twelve LEDs and variable speed fan. These are not forces to be trifled with.

I stare at the AZTEC Mini Fan/Light, considering the havoc we could cause, the damage we could wreak, together, ruling over the lands, unstoppable, given enough spare batteries. I have become consumed with the power, my ego inflated beyond reasonable bounds, my heart burning with desire for all the things my AZTEC Mini Fan/Light can bring me.

But what's this? The AZTEC Mini Fan/Light is turning on me! It doesn't want to be used in this way. I have been given the choice between good and evil, and I have chosen wrongly, so I must be destroyed.

But the AZTEC Mini Fan/Light is forgiving. It shows me the light, and blows air towards me at two different speeds until my soul has been cleansed. I begin life anew: A true Christmas miracle.

I love you AZTEC Mini Fan/Light.

The Da Carrickfergus Code

The place? Carrickfergus. An ordinary looking bus stop. Nothing to give away its potentially world-changing significance.
Everything looks normal, right? Exactly as they wish you to think. But lets take a closer look:

STOP SUSPENED

What ancient language is this, that warns us of events unknown to man? Could this be a clue, heralding forbidden knowledge, but only for those who seek it? Could this be part of the fabled Da Carrickfergus Code?!

My journey leads me to North Street, where a bakery sign hints at hidden meanings:




The word "Special" obviously indicates we should read this sign in a special way, and the air quotes mean the words are ironic or subverted in some way, there must be an ulterior meaning, not to mention the special significance of the mysterious triple-quoted pound.

 'fREsH' 'SANdwiches' 'froM' 'ONly' '''£1  00'''

I shudder just reading it. It would take a foul man indeed to even think to defile a house of cake with such veiled and perverted truths. I am still no closer to uncovering the secrets of the Da Carrickfergus Code, and I fear my constitution is not strong enough, nor my will brave enough to follow this fools errand through to the end. But the darkest hour is yet to come. Imagine my horror as I pass an Indian restaurant on West Street, and see this:

Could this be it, have I stumbled across a meeting of the Illuminati cabal? The signs all fit, the signature is the same. TO NIGHT WE ARE CLOSE FOR TacKNICAL Tecnical PROBLEM Suspened.  'fREsH' 'SANdwiches'. Tecnical PROBLEM. This must be it. But how to infiltrate such an evening? I decide that anything head-on is too risky: I'm already attracting too much attention with my photography. I leave the town centre via the subway underneath the main road. That's when I noticed a message on the wall, perhaps from someone else like me, someone who wants to know the truth, someone who is also searching for the secret behind the Da Carrickfergus Code: Alas the writing is obscured, so I don't know quite which YouTube video contains the answers I seek. Lil Ghestow Joicel? The mystery only deepens. Is this just a false lead planted by the Illuminati Cabal to put me off their track? Or are there really other truth-seekers out there like me? I've been trying to watch all the videos on YouTube, desperately hoping I'll happen across the right one, but so far I have only seen amusing videos of cats. Are they key to decyphering the triple quoted pound? I post this here in the hope that someone else will have better luck than I, and perhaps together we can discover the secret, the secret of THE DA CARRICKFERGUS CODE.

Mike and Aaron's Christmas Banana

To celebrate the launch of this, my new blog, I've decided to give you all a present, and upload my Christmas album, "Mike and Aaron's Christmas Banana", available online for the first time ever!

Comprised of Aaron Marshall and Michael Barkley, "Aaron and Mike's Christmas Bananaband" existed for just one short afternoon in the winter of 2008. Many agree this was for the best. There have been further musical collaborations between the pair before and since, but none so worthy as to wear the Bananaband name. The exact origins of how this moniker was decided upon have been lost to the mists of time: a seemingly unsolvable mystery, given that bananas do not feature heavily, or indeed at all, in the bands oeuvre.

The album itself is a meagre 16 minutes 41 seconds long, although most listeners agree this is much too long. It is the perfect antidote to the saccharine overproduced festive songs often heard this time of year. Some might say it fulfils this role too well, and is actually an unlistenable mess, a hideous repetitive smorgasbord of disgust and despair that barely qualifies as music. This makes it an ideal gift for friends and family.

Feel free to listen online, download, or perhaps just burn it to a CD and put it on loop to scare away the cats from your garden.



Liner Notes

01 - Christmas Warning

So often, once we grow up, Christmas loses that magical edge, and can sneak up on us without warning, much like other holidays such as May Day, Hanukkah, or the birthday of a loved one. Christmas Warning seeks to remedy this. This is your Christmas Warning. Christmas is approaching. You have no excuse now. The alarm-like synthesizers reinforce the symbolic theme, whilst the irregular melody on the ukulele represents the unknowable nature of the future: Christmas is approaching, but who knows exactly what it will hold in store.


02 - Yule Log

The laughter of children; a cheery folk tune beside the rustle of a roaring fire, this track is the personification of all that a classic Christmas has come to mean.


03 - Funky Christmas

What would Christmas be without a party? The funky bass line itself however is taken from the game "Toejam and Earl 2 in Panic on Funkotron" for Sega Mega Drive, so whilst at first glance the party may seem like a social occasion it is not. The child is playing videogames, the parents are elsewhere: technology has caused a total breakdown of the traditional family unit, even at during Christmas, when it is supposed to be strongest.


04 - Rudolph the Rattlenosed Dolphin

Waiting for Santa can be a stressful experience, even the smallest noise can be misinterpreted. The child drums impatiently, trying to sleep, but also ready to scream, before finally dropping off to sleep.


05 - Christmas is Coming

The insane delirium of pre-Christmas sleep, as the minutes tick by, tortuously slowly. Will it live up to expectations? Only time will tell.


06 - Christmas Surroundings

Christmas morning, and the dream becomes real. Life is a blurry haze, everything is familiar yet foreign, like a visitation to an alien planet. Has the intruder left presents? There is excitement, but also unease. The impatience returns. Finally, the presents are opened.


07 - Missing Christmas

The camera is set up. The presents are opened. The camera was not on. The moment is lost forever.


08 - Jazzy Christmas

The stress over, now the fun can begin. A mixture of traditional themes and individual variation highlight how each Christmas is unique, whilst still retaining some core elements from year to year.


09 - Medieval Christmas

Christmas fatigue has worn in. Relatives must be visited. The drudgery of commitments looms near. Efforts are made to be festive, but they are too little to lift the mood.


10 - Christmas is Coming

Christmas may be over, but boxing day is still to come. There is still turkey. The decorations are still up. Christmas is not yet over. Christmas is coming again.


11 - ELP Christmas

A sped up version of yesterdays fun. Everything must be crammed in. It is no longer enjoyable, just going through the motions.


12 - Christmas Holiday

Finally a chance to relax, put the feet up, and do nothing. Christmas is finally over, thank goodness.


Note: the above liner notes have been fabricated after the fact. No care was taken to include any kind of symbolism in the album, it was merely a collection of random sounds in a random order. The above descriptions were an experiment by me to see if I could come up with a pseudo-plausible sounding reason for the madness, much like reading too much into modern art. You can judge for yourself how well I've done.

My winter trip to the doctor

So lately some of my toes have been sore; they were red and swollen, and I had no idea why. I did some internet searching, and decided that I probably had something serious and impressive sounding, like cellulitis, or gout, and thus needed some heavy narcotics to combat it. But given that I'm not a doctor, or even a fake internet doctor, I thought it best to get a second opinion.

The waiting room of the Health Centre is a strange place. All the medical posters vie for your attention, trying to convince you that theirs is the disease you have.
"Do you cough? You could have swine flu. Best stay at home."
"Do you cough? You could have lung cancer. Best go to the hospital."
"Do you cough? You could already be dead. Best stay away from our brains."

Then as I was sitting waiting, a thought hit me: When I get to the doctor's door, am I meant to knock, or do I go straight on in? I seem to remember knocking before, in the past sometime, but this is the age of computers, there's an LED screen in the waiting room to announce people's names, will knocking seem hideously antiquated and quaint? I've never been to this doctor before, I don't want him to be unnecessarily formal with me, what if it is something really serious I have, I'd want him to be straight with me, not couched in some outdated modalities of the past. I'll not knock.

On the other hand, what if I don't knock, and accidentally enter the wrong room? Does that get put on my medical record? "Careless voyeur, double glove at all times"? Or even worse, what if the doctor was taking this opportunity between patients to engage with a secret prescription drug habit. I'm fine with them doing it, I just don't want to know. Ruins confidence. Plus surely me witnessing such a thing would compromise any diagnosis he would give me, as I wouldn't be sure whether he was giving me an accurate portrayal of my health to keep me on his side, or whether he was using his medical knowledge for evil, to kill me in an untraceable and seemingly innocuous way so I wouldn't talk. Best to knock I think.

I see my name on the LED screen: "Aaron Marshall, Room 6". At last. As I walk across the waiting room I realise I'm repeating "Aaron Marshall, Room 6" over and over in my head. As if I'd get to room 6, forget who I am, and have to go home and start again. I suppose repeating "room" is redundant as well, given that all the doctors here operate out of rooms, but just repeating "6, 6, 6" feels a little too satanic for a place of health, so I go back to "Aaron Marshall, Room 6".

As I pass the other doctors' offices, I notice some have their doors slightly open. Ahah! This must be how it's done, the welcoming, slightly ajar door, signifying friendliness and availability, but with none of the lack of privacy from a completely open door. I reach my doctor's door. It is closed. Crap.

I knock on the door. As I knock, I realise I really should have done the knock and open: all the politeness of a knock, with all the speed of an open. Just knock, then open. Instead I knock, then stand there, waiting. I hear something from inside, but I can't make out the words. I should probably go in. But what if he said "no, don't come in?" Then entering would be extremely rude. So I just stand there. A few seconds later I hear a much louder "Come in!". This is not the sparkling first impression I was hoping for.

So I tell him about my toes, and he has a bit of a look. I neglect to tell him any of my "diagnoses", as I've tried leading with those in the past, and that tends to make the doctor a little angsty. It's like trying to help someone assemble an IKEA bookcase, but you can only help by shouting things. Things like "I think it involves nails somehow!". "Have you thought about assembling it in some manner?" "I googled it, and found pictures of several other bookcases, if that helps." Okay so maybe it's not much like that.

After a few more questions from the doctor, I get diagnosed with cold feet. Chilblains. Caused entirely by my poor choices in thermal retention. He looks at my shoes and socks disparagingly. The treatment: thicker socks, and big boots. He repeats this several times. I am not to be trusted, it seems, with remembering this complicated medical procedure of keeping feet warm. Which is not a poor assumption to make, given that I don't quite remember letting my feet get so cold in the first place. Nor did this come up in any of my numerous Google searches involving toes. It's probably best I'm not a fake internet doctor really. I now look forward to Christmas, where this year, ironically, given their poor reputation as festive gifts, thick woolly socks are exactly the present I want.