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Reflections from a child…

22/4/2011

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In an hour or so I will be an adult. Mmm that depends, to be honest. Midnight if you’re from a fairytale, around 2 a.m. if you admire the time one popped out, and just before 5 p.m. tomorrow if you do the maths regarding the Earth orbiting the Sun (yes, ladies and gentlemen, I did the maths).

So apparently this is the end of my childhood. The childhood’s not been too shabby. I’ve learned a couple of things, such as not to piss oneself and take further maths A-level when one can.

As everyone knows, it’s hard to be aware and keep track of your development through life, and after some years you look back on yourself as a different person. I love the nostalgia of old photos, and would’ve liked more videos. I’m working on that.

My mind has changed a lot in these eighteen years, obviously, and for some time now I would say that I think the same way as an adult, and I’m (believe it or not) as mature as one. I just lack the years of experience that separate the adult from this man-child. However, similar thoughts have happened before, and every time I look back I really don’t see myself as grown up then. To be fair, I don’t think I’ll ever resist sprinting to empty swings in a park, no matter how ‘grown up’ I become in the coming decades.

The whole ‘being seventeen’ package isn’t brilliant, I must say. Real men and women don’t treat you as a kid, sure, but the pubs do. It’s been a nagging problem that I get treated like my five year old self in the house of beverages because my mother didn’t shoot me out a week earlier. Voting is a similar game, I’m sure I’m at the intelligence to make the logical decision of which prick to grant some power to, as well with many of my seventeen year old peers, but perhaps these are just petty things I have to deal with in exchange for less responsibility. However, it’s really nice that trains, cinemas and ice rinks think I’m a big boy and give me a big boy price.

So there’s my 18 years of childhood, I wonder how these 68 years of adulthood will treat me (the malnutrition university holds might have other plans).

I’ve written this quasi-philosophical post as I go along, just to have the smallest memory of my mindset at this age when I read it a little later. I don’t care if it doesn’t flow. I’m just one who focuses on dates and numbers more than I should.

I need a drink…
4 Comments

RIP Walter Breuning (1896–2011)

15/4/2011

0 Comments

 
If you don’t follow this blog at all, you probably won’t grasp the significance of this post. This is an obituary (yes, an obituary) I knew one day I had to write, but wished it otherwise.

I’ve made several posts about this remarkable man, with good reason. Walter Breuning was the world’s oldest man from 18th July 2009 until yesterday. His predecessor, Henry Allingham, I took some interest in, where my peculiar interest in longevity sparked.

Breuning was born a long time ago, and his passing leaves even fewer comrades from his era – the nineteenth century. Beyond the bragging right of living in three centuries (and thirteen decades), his mental and physical health was robust and he was largely his own man. He maintained his own diet, exercise, and was not on medication. That alone is nice to know, it really is. A human is capable of living 114 years with a great quality of life.

There was more to him than that.

When you live throughout the whole of the 20th century (and a little extra), you learn a few things. This man personally coped with the ‘dark ages’ of the 1900s, the Great Depression, and losing your wife back in the 1950s. His personal philosophy is focused on helping people, and despite his circumstances he had no fear of death. I’m not reiterating third-party news reports that pick out the numbers and key words, I’m telling you what I’ve learned from his videos.

At the end of March he was hospitalised. When I found this out I obviously thought that it may be the end. I thought he would pull through, from the  information given. His passing was not so much a shock. It’s sad, definitely. But I’m consoled by him probably knowing too that his time had come, and that he was ready to embrace it. This sadness stems from losing a piece of history, and above all, a great man.
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“We’re all going to die. Some people are scared of dying. Never be afraid to die. Because you’re born to die.”
– Walter Breuning (September 21, 1896 – April 14, 2011)
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Who needs a girlfriend, anyway?

7/4/2011

0 Comments

 
It’s been over two months now since I got Minecraft. Two months of getting progressively better at making homework excuses and losing the ability to walk. What can I say? It’s just plain addictive.

A couple of you were thinking, “what the hell is Minecraft?” Google is your friend, fools. But it’s basically the ultimate sandbox game. You mine shit, craft shit, build shit, fight shit. The philosophy behind it is logical (e.g., you dig up sand from a beach best with a shovel, and smelt it with coal (or some form of wood) in a furnace to make glass) and the potential is simple huge. If you’re genuinely interested, you might want to start with this old weekly video or Yahtzee’s review for a brilliant summary.

It started off with single player, but I wanted more. I now make shit on a server with real life friends with the aid of Skype. I have no shame.
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No shame.
Anyway, here’s a small gallery of some of the stuff we’ve accomplished over the weeks.
MEINKRAFT!
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