Squeaky Bum Time

Everywhere there are journalists. There are people who have been here for an hour who I haven't really seen since September and there are people who have been here all week - including those treasured days that begin with S! Everyone is trying their best to put into practice everything we have been taught in the last three years. It's a productive atmosphere and here I am BLOGGING!! Do I feel guilty? Yes but only because I feel an iherant guilt when it comes to group projects. I'd rather be the guy that does way too much than the guy who does too little. I am allergic to laziness - literally. I am also allergic to the misuse of "literally". Aahhchoo!

I sometimes opine that this class contains many intelligent people but very few journalists. In this environment, I doubt that feeling. Certain people are floating around doing nothing and some people are looking and acting terribly busy and engaged while being neither. The remainder are busy and actually journalising. One person in particular has been absent for most of the project and have epitomised laziness when they finally arrived and began barking orders. Is there anything worse than those who dish out orders that they are not willing to follow themselves? Perhaps only those who criticise for the very transgressions that they commit themselves. People and glasshouses and all that...

Hours away from production and the place is buzzing yet relaxed because we are confident that we will have everything done. My whole semester has been like that...mostly at least! There has been so much done and so much more to do but it will be done and done well and on time. I am proud of all of us. If I didn't have an essay, an exam, a large assignment and several other smaller pieces due in the next few days a few beers would have been nice.

Here comes the finish line and we are Usain Bolt, cantering but doing it better than anyone else.

Is this Darwinism at its best?

So you find out that the work you have committed to is not going to be appreciated, the role you signed up for has been diminished and the baby you thought was yours, isn't. Yup - this is journalism.

You are told you will have a certain amount of work to so but for some reason it fluctuates. Not just goes a little bit up or a little bit down, it completely changes. We have been given x amount to do here and that changes, y amount here and that changes. Again, this is journalism. The goals are constantly being moved, the pressure is always great, the tension always there and only the strong survive. Is this Darwinism at its best?

There are no quiet weekdays anymore and I love that. When there is a quiet day at the weekend, it takes at least 23.5 of the 24 hours to wind down, to stop being a journalist for a while. Right now I feel like I have done no work today but I handed in an assignment, this is one of three blogs today and I met Bryan Dobson, my broadcasting hero. 

A mentor of mine (of sorts), Dr Simon Order, once told me that journalists don't get a day off. I took this with a large pinch of salt. I assumed it was an old wives' tale, a general outside assumption, designed to make me realise that I will be busy. He was right and more fool me for doubting his honesty. Not everything he said was a metaphor. If only I had known that when I first met him.

There will be a day when I will be able to turn off but if truth be told, it;s not a day I look forward to. We can sleep when we die. 

Until then, there is no rest for the wicked and it's safe to say that The Ultrabomb falls into that bracket.

Am I even a real journalism??

Where are you boy?

We are sent tumbling into this the tenth week of the year. How did we get here? Was it three months ago I was sitting on my couch at home thinking about nothing more than who to kill in Grand Theft Auto V, thinking college was ages away? That seems like a lifetime ago. I have never felt a pressure like this in my life. I hasten to think what next semester will be like if we are forced to hand up a litany of meaningless assignments. Many of which are indeed meaningful but try telling a fourth year student in week ten that they should attend this class for 3% of the marks when they have an essay due in another module worth 50%. 

Just like sex when you live at home, it's all about time management - doing it when and where you can.

My face casts an expressionless look over the stack of books you have taken out of the library with every intention of reading them but with very little expectation of doing so. There are titles there that no longer make sense to me, as if my comprehension of English has completely deteriorated. "I'm meant to be a journalist!" I shout but nobody's listening because, though I share a house with plenty of other young people, they are also hapless, wandering aimlessly in the night, looking for the breadcrumbs of the creativity and impetus that got them this far. 

As I gaze around the room, aimlessly looking for some kind of inspiration, something to kick me out of this perpetual stupor, I see the gaze of my buddy Dave staring back at me. For 14 and a half years he dragged me over hurdles before I lost him. Here is another one Dave. Do your job. 

The best thing I ever did was bring you home to dirty the carpets. 

Good boy.

I was once told that the heal of a stiletto shoe bears more pressure than the wheel of a Boeing 747. I always believed this but only now do I truly understand it. My pressure seems small to everyone who isn't experiencing it and like the heel, someday I will buckle and break. But that day is not today.

You and me against the world Dave. One more time.

My feature writing hero - Hugh McIlvanney

"Hero" is a word that is thrown around all too often. People who rarely deserve the word have it thrust upon them, as if their relatively small deeds of little consequence were world-altering efforts that commanded such extremist acknowledgement. With that in mind, I feel the term hero is above my favourite feature writer. In saying that, if you read his features on a regular basis, you would be forgiven for thinking that the term is earned, as is his gift for dealing with the English language. 

Hugh McIlvanney is probably the foremost opinion writer in football, with similar grandeur afforded him for his words on his other loves, boxing and horse-racing. What makes Hugh's work so loved is his inane ability to be as long-winded as possible while maintaining the focus of the reader. Hugh is long-winded even by Sunday Times standards. Although, while long-winded, his words never cross into the dreaded purple-prose phase that haunts so many of his pretenders. 

Hugh's work has seen him receive many awards. In 1996 he was awarded the OBE, he was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award in 2004 by The Scottish Press Awards and is the only sports writer to be voted their Journalist of the Year. He was also included in the 2005 Press Gazette Hall of Fame in 2005 and in 2009 he was even inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame - high praise indeed!

Perhaps my favourite piece by Hugh is due to my own personal feelings on the topic. As a massive football and Manchester United fan, Hugh was the man Alex Ferguson trusted to pen his autobiography, Managing My Life, in 1999. In their work, the two men built up a close friendship, stemming from all they had in common; both are Scottish, both are working class heroes (there is that word again!) and both have a great love for football, horse racing, boxing, expensive wine and reading the autobiographies of the leaders of men. When Ferguson retired in May 2013, Hugh penned a piece in the Irish Independent about Alex Ferguson. At this time there were inevitably thousands of pieces on the great manager and all that he had done in the game. This piece, however, was different. In the May 12 2013 edition of the Independent, Hugh penned a piece titled In football, he lived as few have ever lived. It was a glorious look at the man behind the statistics, an up-close examination of the human being behind the charade that is being a public figure. Ferguson no longer had to play the part anymore and Hugh gave us his thoughts, a highly respected man speaking of another highly respected man, one "hero" of his craft speaking so fondly of another.

What sets this piece apart for me, is how Hugh abandoned his typical writing style. There were few long-winded sentences, there was little rhetoric and there was almost no flirting with purple-prose. For this piece, his points were concise, the sentences brief and to the point. It is almost as if we are reading a personal letter from Hugh to Ferguson himself. Says Hugh of Ferguson; "Victory mattered most of all. In the chase for it, he has become a great cultural figure in British life. David Cameron paid tribute to him last week but he struck the wrong note, talking about his contribution to British football when his contribution to public life was much greater than Cameron's will ever be...During his time as a football manager, he lived as few men have ever lived." In that last sentence Hugh serves to reassure his friend that he has done alright with his time - a existentialist question that even the greatest manager of all time would have faced. As his friend, Hugh would have known that.

Most feature writers exist to give us an unorthodox view on an orthodox subject, this piece serves to give us a hitherto unseen light into Hugh McIlvanney the man, the friend. There is a real warmth in the piece and the most talented sports writer of our age, so used to writing matter-of-factly, suddenly shows us that he could just have easily have followed his brother into a fruitful career in fiction.

Great music always makes you think that you could have written it and the greatest novels always feel like they have come from your own imagination; as if you have contributed to their writing somehow. What struck me most about this particular piece was the fact that Hugh took every word right out of my own mouth. I have Alex Ferguson to thank for so many great moments of joy in my life and upon his retirement, if I was afforded the opportunity to meet the great man, I would have said everything to him that Hugh said. That is great feature writing.

http://www.independent.ie/sport/soccer/in-football-he-lived-as-few-have-ever-lived-29260093.html

Captain or no captain - here comes the Voice!

So I got the position of Features/Lifestyle Editor, albeit with Jess. I think it will actually be better with both of us doing it. It means we can share the pain, the workload and we can lock our heads together to come up with a decent amalgamation of ideas. Of course, it helps that we are friends and will compliment each other well; she's off her head while I'm more grounded. I feel that both of our personalities are strong enough to meet somewhere in the middle; neither of us will overpower the other. It also helps that both of us wanted the job. This means that we both have ideas of what to do with the section and because we have a lot in common, that could prove to be very fruitful for the paper.

Now on to the negative! Well, I personally feel we need an editor. Figurehead position as it may be, it is still necessary in my eyes. I also feel the same about the editorial positions. I feel there should be a sole person in charge of each department, with one as their deputy. While it will work in our case, I can't see it working for all and if it does, it's a miracle! Again - this is just my opinion in a world where I have limited experience.

I strongly feel that the highest nail gets the hammer, the squeaky wheel gets the oil and the biggest spot gets popped. That's why we need someone, even a figurehead, to lead the group. As it stands, this student publication represents a student publication, not a commercial one. As it stands, I don't know who to go to with a problem. I have no editor and I don't feel the need to burden the lecturer with trivial nonsense the figurehead could deal with.

Again - just my view but I am old skool. Not two years ago I chastised those who read ebooks. Now, I am currently halfway through Roy Keane's second autobiography on my Samsung tablet so take no notice of me. One gear in an engine - that's me. It still needs a driver though...

I am, however, very excited to get started on the project. I think this is a great bunch of people with great ideas and bright futures etc. I honestly feel we are mature enough to get by without a leader.

The practicality and hands-on nature of the paper will be a welcome change to constantly writing about Karl Marx and his negative effect on history and the Pol Pot Cambodian genocide - much fun as that is!

Leap Of Fate

It's that age-old question isn't it? Do I find my comfort zone and stick to it or do I push boundaries? 

Never before in my life did I choose to stick to my comfort zone so why did I do so now?! There's no doubt (in my mind at least) that the editorial position is something that I would be good at but I didn't apply for it. I applied for the Features/Lifestyle Editor position. Now, it's not that the position is beneath me - far from it, it will be interesting and challenging - it's just that I will always wonder if I could have done a little bit more, gone that little bit further. 

I am still not entirely sure why I decided not to go for the position. I suppose my mind harks back to the horrible pressure put on Mike in second year as editor of the magazine project. Then I remember the horrible pressure Branglim was under with the Voice two years ago. Both of those are positions I would not like to be in. 

Then I start asking myself some questions - what do I pride myself on? What is my best quality? What is my best selling point? I am very cool and collected under pressure, I never freak out and I am an outlet for anyone at anytime, no questions asked. 

Did I just describe what an editor should be to me? 

Okay an editor also has to be competent at most if not all aspects of production...okay I am fairly confident that I am that too. 

And finally, the penny drops. 

I should have gone for it. 

Is this just a case of Murphy's Law? Am I just feeling this now because the chance to be editor has passed or would I have come to regret my decision in a few short weeks? I'm on this earth 30 years and I have no regrets so far, why would they start now? 

To borrow a phrase from one of the world's greatest ever philosophers, "D'oh!"

The Voice Begins Again...

It begins with a strong déjà vu; the unwavering positivity of a journalist who knows what they're talking about, trying to spread their optimism. Optimism is usually infectious, especially with a bunch of highly impressionable young adults with brains like sponges. However, this is an effected group. There have been dark days, sustained periods of absence and even violence. There is a reluctance to see that was has been will not be again, the assumption that the cycle will repeat itself and that the smell that hung in the air for so long will linger.

Being close to a decade older than everyone else now is not just a number. I under-appreciate that I have lived 10 more years than these people, my peers. I've done things they haven't, I've experienced things they haven't. You live a lot of life in 10 years, especially your twenties. I have been so rich that I could have given every student in UL a euro and had change and so broke that eating was a legitimate option, not a necessity. I have been so enamoured with friends that I felt like the world's most popular guy and so lonely that enjoying your own company is the only option you have left. I have been so relaxed and contented with life that if I hadn't lived another day I would have had no regrets and so crushed with guilt that the only fitting penance is to tattoo my guilt painfully onto my skin. 

Look at where I am now. I'm not special. I'm just older. But I know now that for every down there is an up and that no matter what happens, learn from every situation, take it with you and move on.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that we will overcome and in our lives, will be forced to overcome much worse. It is then that we will learn who we are. It may have been very difficult at the time but we are stronger and better for our past. We will be fine.

We have been down but we have never been out. We are back on our feet and we will make a success of this project and any other project that comes our way. We have had to jump hurdles that we never should have had to and for that we are better, stronger and much healthier. 

This time around our guidance is much stronger, too. Already, our apprehensions are being addressed and our talents are valued and trusted. Sure, we will encounter hurdles on this road but they will be much smaller and will be jumped with ease. I can't wait to get started!