SPS Sailing Trip 2009
OK, I’m back on (dry) land now and had a day to kill before the end of the Sailing Trip and the beggining of Work Experience, so for the first time I’ve actually done some work set by Dr. Burnett on time, and wrote up the journey for ‘The Pauline”. Not under any illusions that anything in there actually gets read, I’ll also post it here to make it less of a wasted effort. Bear in mind the context if it sounds sycophantic at times..
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After the traditional annual lament at not stopping at Birdworld on the way to Gosport marina, we arrived and were assigned to one of two Jenneau 43s, and it appears Poseidon was on my side as I joined what would later be universally nicknamed as the ‘better’ yacht and crew. After pretending to have been previously aware of the existance of several 4th formers and learning almost one of their names, we set sail for Cherbourg via Cowes. The soundtrack of the crossing largely consisted of our skipper’s reflections on sailing, philosophy and sociology, punctuated by sleepy manouvers to avoid being engulfed by passing ferries, but those of us who hadn’t previously summered on fathers’ yacht also took the opportunity to learn the ropes, and soon enough it was plain sailing, arriving within 18 hours.
- Alderney Beach (courtesy Ben Lacaille)
Enjoyable as the crossing was, never before had I been so glad to see France approaching, and it only took a few hours rest to ensure that the town of Cherbourg was sleepier than we. We stocked up on anything we could find that was less healthy than the food on board, and unintentionally scattered a group of timid Greek navy sailors. We then returned to the boat and left for the Channel Islands after feasting on a hoard of Pâté, Camembert and Baguettes. With the aid of nothing but the wind, sails, and a 75hp Yamahar motor, we arrived at Alderney where some took the opportunity to run free on the recently deserted beaches like battery hens released into the wild for the first time. The next day we surveyed Alderney’s epic barren coastline and fearsome cliff faces, and the experienced fishermen amongst us caught club sandwiches larger than a man could lift, from the local pub. It took mathematical reasoning worthy of the school’s maths olympiad squad to negotiate our fare with the water taxi-man, but once we were reunited with out boat we set sail for Guernsey.
By now our skipper had betrayed an instictive mistrust of technology, having been unsatisfied when upon asking our position I gingerly referred him to the onboard GPS. Therefore our ingestion into the rock-toothed mouth of St. Peter Port was facilitated by a great deal of shouting between the chart wielding navigators down below and the pathfinders above, yet this earned us an entrance so accurate that even the Titanic’s iceberg would have solemly given way. A day on Guernsey showed us that there was something like civilisation beyond the M25 as we scattered around the island visiting the shops and the WWII museum where we rewarded our prior success with authentic medals and navy hats.
For a short while we anchored beside the picturesque island of Sark, where some scaled the cliffs to the top whilst others patrolled the perimeter in inflatable (and quite deflatable) dingies, dutifully attacking each other on passing. It was then time to embark on our night crossing, where we quickly realised that sailing into the sunset later means sailing into the yawning blackness, but with the help of the radar, countless cups of tea, a rigidly enforced watch rotation and a dramatic rendition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, we pulled into Weymouth as the sun apologetically woke up and guided us into port. Once the fog of self-pity cleared we admitted we hugely enjoyed it.
We spent a day in Weymouth judging the fish & chips from at least every outlet (in the interests of fairness) and wandering along the beachfront, ensuring we were quite ready for dinner where Dr. Burnett relinquished his expert control over the galley kitchen to allow us to make dinner, where it was decided best to wrap everything we made in bacon, to the detriment of our vegetarian skipper. With technology withdrawal symptoms coming in, it was then time for laptops and films to emerge from the luggage.
A winch. (c. Sam Garson)
The next few days were occupied by strong winds where our boat’s true potential was unleashed as we tore across the waves, skimming close to the chalk sheer cliff flaces of the Studland coastline and racing the other boat across the solent, naturally to their downfall, despite us having to turn around for the occasional hat-over-board emergency. All of us being quite seasoned (and browned) sailors by now the boat glided across the waters exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t, and we pulled back into Gosport, also pulling an amazing 10 days to a close.
The Forrader (c. Alex Eckl)
Why You Should Hate Modern Languages
Scrapping Modern Languages
~First of all can I apologise for instantly breaking my pre-set rule of posting regularly, and please take my self-deprecating command to unsubscribe with a pinch of salt. I am extremely grateful for the large number of you who viewed my previous posts and will be posting much more regularly after exams~
Right, many of you may have already heard my outspoken opinions of learning modern languages but while hatred of them is at its peak around the time of language orals etc. I felt the best time to have a good rant about them was now:
Many of my most irritated and bored memories from the previous three years have taken place in a modern languages classroom of some description. By modern languages of course I am excluding English and English Literature, which are godly subjects. I just feel sorry to see that in a school where we have the best of teaching and facilities, you can spend one lesson with a well published History teacher trying to dig apart what truly happened at milestone events in history that shaped the world as it is today, the next with an Oxbridge Phd research scientist teaching you about the origins of life and the ridiculous complexity of apparently random processes, and then go to a French lesson, and learn how to say “on the weekend, I went to the cinema with friends. Then I smoked; which is bad for your health”. There is no other subject that insults education so much and farcically pretends to be academic.
One of the most frustrating things I find about learning modern languages is that you are not in fact, learning anything new, you are simply learning how to coin what you already know with inferior skill in a different language. I simply fail to see how people can find it interesting that the word for cat in German is “Katze”. What a revelation. Then come the arguments that learning all that is simply a means to an end being foreign literature, which is certainly interesting and much is lost in translation. Fine. But can these people truly claim to have exhausted all the ins and outs of the literature of their own language, that they are so artistically isolated by English that it cannot contain all of their thoughts and ideas? Read every noteworthy book written in English first, then we’ll talk. Also I fail to believe that translations aren’t adequate; the translations I’ve read have been just as worthwhile as books written originally in English. People also argue that foreign languages are a great way of exchanging cultures, but when you think about it, language is actually the most unobtainable elements of a foreign culture, we can all instantly enjoy a curry on a friday night since taste buds don’t have a concept of misunderstanding or have to learn anything, millions of people enjoy Mozart’s music without having to take any exams or lessons in Austrian music. Language, however, is a cryptic prude.
Then come the pragmatic arguments: we need to be able to communicate with those in the world around us by learning their languages to inspire international cooperation and cultural understanding. This is true, which is why, unfortunately, I’m afraid we are going to have to force the world to speak the same language, shifting all other languages to purely academic status’. Think about the costs of having different global languages. Firstly financially, just imagine how many billions each year we spend on translators, dictionaries and yes, language teaching when this could much better be spent on other things. There is also a huge wastage of ability and effort, imagine how much better medicine would be if every linguist became a research scientist instead, or how much better global academia would be if everyone could understand every book written. One of the major reasons for the lack of development in the third world is the lack of text books and learning materials written in native languages, which is so wasteful when you consider that we have the tools to educate people, they simply cant use them because of their language obstructions. Even the Bible, if you’re into that sort of thing, sources the creation of language with a deliberate attempt to stop progress and multilateral development in its tracks (the story of the tower of Babel?, if my prep school RS lessons serve me well).
Perhaps even more importantly is how much damage languages cause in terms of racial and cultural hatred and misunderstanding. Just think about this, last time you saw one of those Sky News clips with an Iraqi woman screaming incoherently in some obscure language about losing her kebab-shop owing to a car bomb, did you truly empathise with her, compared to similar situations involving people speaking English? This goes much further in terms of actual violence, where there is much gang violence between people in the Netherlands simply on the basis of language. You can be almost sure that in any major conflict; Palestinian vs Israeli, Pakistani vs Indian, Croat vs Serb, language as well as religion has divided the antagonists. Futhermore when you look at the major partnerships of nations, especially the allied troops of the world wars, they usually are united by a common language. When is the last time two English speaking nations went to war with each other? The American War of Independence? It is also quite telling that the 3/7 of the G8 nations, meaning the most successful in terms of GDP, speak English (out of seven as you can’t count the EU). I’m afraid other languages will have to go.
Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for the intricacies of all language, planning to study English Literature at university myself, and am not suggesting a mass book burning of all foreign literature (and yes, I am being slightly farcical in my suggestions overall). I am also not speaking from an uninformed or sour grapes perspective, I was tricked into taking both French and German GCSE and somehow managed not to fail either of them. I would simply hope that people realise that foreign languages, rather than being some exciting tool for communication, can also have a huge scope for divisions between people and obstruction of progress. I would really urge anyone reading this who is making GCSE, A level or university choices not to listen to people who are telling them to take languages for their pragmatic purposes – only take them if you truly enjoy learning them and don’t mind being patronised by idiotic, mundane topics about daily life (yes, even A level language subjects have now scrapped literature). Don’t be fooled that languages will lead you into a hugely lucrative job and will turn you into an international French spewing Don Juan. If you don’t truly enjoy them, they might even end up holding you back.
Days 1&2 of the Stoic Week Challenge
You may have read here: http://egbertonline.wordpress.com/2009/02/08/the-stoic-week-challenge/ that I have decided to try a week with only minimal ‘lower’ pleasures to see if there are any real benefits behind the argument that we should live more stoically. I’m going to update this thing every few days to rant about how awful it is…but also to show whether I have felt any real beneficial effects.
Right, so its been nearing on 48 hours since I last had some form of electronic entertainment (yes, I was playing Burnout on my PS3 right up until 00:00 am) and god knows how long since I’ve eaten anything that tastes remotely epicurean (apparantly the true opposite of stoicism, the argument is as yet unresolved). So, do I feel any different?
Caffeine: I think I’m just about over the hump off coffee withdrawals, although it has taken every ounce of self-discipline I had left to turn left, into school rather than right, towards the nearest coffee joint (the text messages of temptation haven’t helped by the way guys) and morning school has been poignantly less bearable, although I do find that I actually have more energy in the evenings now since I don’t get the slump. Overall overcoming off my caffeine addiction has just made me feel more hazy, but this is probably temporary…
Internet & TV: Only by banning myself from facebook/msn/TV have I realised how much time in the day there actually is in the day to get homework done. I suppose the real difference is by not watching TV straight when I get home, there’s less temptation for it to drag on. Although I did have to occasionally stop my hand which my subconscious had propelled towards the remote every time my attention wondered away from The Successes and Failures of William I’s Peasant-Quashing Methods (a rare occasion of course). I think theres a deep longing in me to get back on facebook too, I keep inadvertently opening it and typing in my login details before I realise what I’m doing…
Food: I’ve never had any problems in sourcing a stoic food supply at school, recent lunches being no exception, although I have avoided anything with sugar in it and generally eaten less, meaning that early morning hunger pangs compound my sleepiness and caffeine withdrawal. And if you’re wonding, I have asked myself why the hell I’m bothering with this experiment.
So…….do I feel any more cerebral and clear, a hybrid between a Buddhist monk and a Ghandi on one of his more attention-seeking hunger strikes? No. I’ve found it slightly easier to work, but overall my mind is the same cloudy mix of corporate advertising, irritating music and video game-induced violence thought that its always been. Perhaps this is a case of my me holding on to every last scrap of media mind-drilling that I’m still storing, and its a matter of letting this run dry until I become the stony, hard-working scholar I’m sure this pointless experiment is pushing me towards becoming.
The Stoic Week Challenge
Those of you who read my previous post will know that I’ve been wondering whether I’d be better off as a stoic or a hedonist, and thinking about having a ‘trial week’ of each. One weekend and approximately four undone preps later, I’ve decided I might as well try this whole “all work and no play” idea this week and see whether I feel the quiet satisfaction and clarity of mind being a boring shit is meant to give you, followed by a week of absolute, undiluted carelessness and compulsiveness during half term. I think I already have an idea of which I’d prefer. OK, here are the rules for this week (Mon-Fri, of course) then regarding things you could see as ‘enjoyable’:
Food & Drink: Minimalism and dullness is the way to go. Water only and whatever tasteless gruel we get as a main course at school. And the most alarming part: no coffee!?
Media: I’m not going to watch TV, I’ll be sky +’ing anything worth watching for better times and refraining from watching ‘Skins’ this week, which will only be a partial inconvenience since this series is awful anyway. I can’t prevent the bus driver putting on that noise-abuse on the radio, but that will probably just get me further towards my masochistic targets.
Social Interaction: not limiting this, it is a ‘higher pleasure’ after all…supposedly
Computer/PS3 use: Internet can be used for research/communication purposes only. Facebook doesn’t count even though it technically does both. Not even going to switch the PS3 on. (damn, I should be doing this for charity or something)
Comfort: piss off, I’m not sleeping on the floor.
So there we go, I’ll see how long I can manage to stick to these rules, whether it means I get more work done and improves my concentration span, thought patterns and all that jazz. Probable result; I’ll either fall at the first hurdle and realise I’ve got nothing to prove, or go mad. I’ll update this thing to let you know. Anyone else out there as crazy as I am? Why not try out the challenge with me?
Blog Post # 1: Pleasure or Pain?
Blog Post # 1: pleasure or pain?
So, I realise that I have instantly broken rule four, leaving a gap of about five months between starting this thing and getting round to posting, but I’ll take the line that I haven’t properly started this blog until its publicised, as until yet I have only let the existence of this blog slip to one or two friends followed by a rushed excuse. So starting from… now, I’ll update at least once a week. Here goes:
I could start with an anecdotal description of some uninteresting event I’ve been to, or a pretentious rant about my misguided political opinions (expect both in the near future) but I’d figured I’ll open with a bang, blogging at my most pretentious level, so that hopefully every post after this will seem much less self-indulgent in comparison. The subject: are you better off being indulgent or stoic?; Amy Winehouse or Marilyn Manson; dolphin or worker ant; hedonist or masochist. It’s a tough question; the happiest people I know are often the most dim and lazy, and on the flipside some of the most seemingly miserable cretins I have met have also been the most hard working and disciplined (and successful). So which is it better?
My most limited and basic understanding of the two philosophies tells me that Stoicism is essentially the belief that it is best to refuse pleasures ‘of the flesh’ (quite a graphic term…) which I suppose ranges from that sugar cube in your coffee to wildly rampant orgies, and that hard work should replace it (already looking like an unattractive ethos), and that in this way you will be more fulfilled since you don’t experience the negative downsides of the former (diabetes and herpes?) and learn to derive pleasure from the latter. There is good logic behind this, I’ve decided, if you can learn to enjoy activities that are also beneficial you get something like a win-win situation; ending up in either making a ridiculous amount of money and/or getting that little bit closer to world domination. (Hitler was extremely stoic, I hear; refusing both alcohol and meat). Also, some of the most inspirational people are obviously stoics even to the point of masochism: when Lance Armstrong was asked what pleasure he got from cycling for ten hours a day he didn’t understand the question; he did it for the pain. Another argument in favour is that by being more enlightened and productive, you are more useful to society and can do more to improve things. But still; refusing all pleasure that we have been almost hard-wired to pursue for so long does seem drastic and unattractive.
This leads me onto the opposite of stoicism: hedonism. The hedonist can be found in a warehouse rave or krispy kreme joint near you, injecting opiates into his eyeballs or reaching for that triple glazed, chocolate covered and filled cream-basted, cholesterol sprinkled glass of water as a healthy break from the doughnuts. Each activity; I’m sure, is extremely enjoyable and for those godless beings amongst us, is essentially what life is about: pleasure seeking. Although there is always the paradox that whatever feels good is usually illegal, immoral or fattening. Don’t be too quick to judge the hedonist; if you have abandoned the idea that all we are here to do is get on that all-too exclusive guest list for heaven, why not just thrill seek and enjoy yourself? We are naturally designed to do what we can to get those ‘happy hormones’ into our brains by any means possible, whether it be feasting upon the body fat of that buffalo we just took down with a well aimed spear or mating with an attractive, fertile female back at the cave. So we have developed past those pursuits; need our interests do so as well? Anyway, if working too hard and finding too much about the world inevitably will make you depressed and cynical, why not be blissfully ignorant?
I’m afraid to tell you since I’m not one of those enlightened oracles in my year that does AS level philosophy, I can only introduce the argument and leave it there, don’t expect an answer. I’m going to toy with the idea of trying out a week of stoicism and then a week of hedonism and see which one suits me more (convenient timing, next week is a school week, the week after is half term), so watch this space: you might get one of those ridiculous self-set challenge diaries put up which I can advise you will probably be great fun since you’d get to watch me slowly suffer and probably fail. Whichever side you’ve taken, enjoy. Be it your opiates. Or your maths homework.
What’s Done is Done: Introducing my Blog
I’m sorry. I did all I could. Despite my smirks at other bloggers, my disgust at the narcissistic habit of rolling out page upon page of uninteresting and self-involved drivel; the prospect of having a little corner of the internet to rant, argue, criticize and comment on things, even if it ends up going unread, has been too tempting. So I have failed both you and myself, and started my own blog. Again, sorry.
Now, the least I could do is a bit of damage control and lay down my intentions from the start. I’ve read the worst of the blogs just like you have, and I would hope that this has meant that I can avoid making the worst of the mistakes that some make, and somehow come up with a blog that is genuine, unpretentious and maybe even helpful or interesting in places.
Rule one, I will only write about what I know. If you wanted to read about the social turmoil between Hungarian and Romanian potato farmers, I daresay you would read something written from a local source, you don’t want enlightenment from me. Expect anything here to be written from personal experience, or at least personal response if I am writing about a remote issue.
Rule two, I’m not to do this in an attempt to make you think that I am smarter than you. I’m not trying to wow you with knowledge and intellect, although of course, anybody who posts publically is bound to want readers to be impressed, I would much rather readers actually gain some sort of use out of something I write. After all, most of what we learn for ourselves by experience is also learned by everybody else independently. A great thing about the internet is that you can easily cut that corner, upload what you know and through that, access information much more easily.
Rule three, I’m to accept criticism to any article graciously, provided that it is well meaning and polite. I certainly am hoping to embarrass myself as little as possible on this blog, so if you tell me an aspect of something I’m posting is moronic/pretentious/just plain wrong, you are actually doing me a service rather than staying quiet and letting me continue in my faulty ways. Above all, I regard conversations at the bottom of a blog as just as important and valuable as the blog itself. I would hate it if this was just a one way torrent of words to a mute group of readers.
Rule four, I must post regularly. By subscribing to my blog, you are showing interest in my views and giving me a great compliment. I owe it to you to commit time to updating this thing, rather than just losing interest or convincing myself that I am too busy. If I fail in this; unsubscribe. Honestly, it’s what I deserve.
