Elegantly Wasted

Zemedia films a variety of lectures, seminars and presentations and provides clips and DVD copies for  clients to use to promote their business. This clip is taken from a this years keynote address at the Southampton Heritage and Arts People Conference. It’s currently hosted on a YouTube channel I maintain – www.youtube.com/artsouthampton.

I have the internet now! So hopefully this will be updated regularly. Here are a few more reviews that have been/are about to be published in the Portsmouth News. I’m also reviewing unsigned band Hold Fast, AC/DC clones The Answer and pop-punk band Set Your Goals before Christmas, so I’m keeping myself busy. Oh, and I might do a bit of uni work inbetween that too.

Bring Me The Horizon, 19 November, Portsmouth Pyramids

The capacity crowd at the Pyramids, and the meandering queue that spans all the way down the road, makes it known that heavy metal is now more popular than it has ever been.

However, it’s not very often that the support band usurps the headliners. It’s even rarer that the opening band outshines them both, but that is exactly what happened tonight. August Burns Red blew both A Day To Remember and headliner Bring Me The Horizon to…well, the horizon. Powerful, melodic and intricate, the metalcore quintet were definitely the best band on stage tonight.

That’s not to say that ADTR and BMTH were bad. Despite some sound issues, ADTR brought their brand of catchy pop-metal to the stage and all their fans sang along to every word. On a heavier note, BMTH crushed the noticeably emptier crowd with every riff, and their breakdowns threw their fans into a frenzy every time. Unfortunately, they just didn’t compare to the superior August Burns Red. If you have to buy one metalcore album this year, makes sure it’s August Burns Red –  Constellations.

Joe Bonamassa, 1 December, Southampton Guildhall

With more Blues than Paul Gilbert and a virtuoso playing style to rival Steve Vai, the charismatic blues rock star Joe Bonamassa hits his largest south coast venue to date in support of his new album, ‘The Ballad of John Henry’.

Tonight’s support is from ex-pop star Sandi Thom, who has left her commercial pop roots and opted for a southern rock tinge to her latest work. Those who expected her to play her most famous song, I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker, will be left disappointed but this new change in direction is superior to her previous exploits.

As soon as he struts onto the stage, complete with a metallic silver suit and shades, Joe Bonamassa’s confidence fills the venue and it is clear he is – by far – the coolest man in the room. His Southern influenced bluesy rock is completely mesmerizing. It looks like he is enjoying himself too, as he strains after every soulful note played and moves to and from each side of the stage to lay down fill after fill. His voice is not as strong as it is on his records, but he lets his guitar do most of the talking.

It is coming up to that time of year again when the end of December approaches fast and people start thinking about their New Year’s Resolutions. Setting goals for the start of the year gives us the feeling that we have a fresh start to really get on track with things we’ve wanted to do or to quit negative habits, in fact all those old behaviours can stay in 2009 can’t they?  Except what generally happens is we start off well with the best of intentions. Only to get side tracked by our busy lives or maybe even forget what it is we wanted to do.
In fact the great majority of people give up on their resolutions before the month is out only to make the same goals the very next year.

Goals when properly planned give you direction in life and move you toward what you aspire to have.

The process of goal setting is..
Specific: A goal needs to be specific for it to be achievable. For example if you were to say, I want to buy a car at some point, that is pretty vague and more of a wish than a goal. Instead if you were to say I want to buy a red three door hatchback no more than five years old then that would be specific
Measurable: A goal needs to be measurable and have a date attached to it otherwise how will you know when you’ve achieved it?  For example  I will lose three stone by June 2010. That way it will be clear and you will know that you have accomplished it
Accountable: By enlisting the help of a friend, family member or Life coach can really help you to stay on track. Having an accountability partner ensures that the goal stays on the fore front of your mind and that you keep taking actions to achieve it.
Resonant: Does this goal really fit in with who you are and where you want to be heading in life. Is it something you really desire?
Thrilling: Your goal should be so thrilling you are excited to get started on actions towards it. Stretch yourself, there is a saying, if you shoot for the moon at least you will hit the stars.   it is not just about the accomplishment on having achieved the goal but how much you will have grown as a person on the journey

Our top 5 tips  for Goal setting….

1. Think about what it is that you really want. Now ask yourself, why do I want this? Knowing  why you want something  is one of the key parts to goal setting, e.g  it is not enough to think I want to buy a house, why is it important for you to do this? Would it be an investment, to become somewhere to start a family, to decorate than re-sell. etc  One of the problems is when people state things they want to do without really knowing why they want to do it, it could just be that a friend told them it would be a good thing to do….

2.Your goal has to be for you, if you want to really get your outcome it must be something you can do by yourself and something that you want, if someone tells you, you should do something it simply won’t be compelling for you.

3. Write out your goals using the steps above and read daily, it is a good idea to also make copies to carry with you and place strategically in your house and office where you will see them regularly.

4. Visualizing is a powerful tool you can easily use. By seeing what you want happen in your mind, it will program your unconscious to notice things around you that you may not have previously noticed. Have you ever brought a new car then suddenly see loads of them on the road. It’s not that more of them have miraculously appeared your unconscious has just brought them into your awareness.
5. Break down your goal in to sub goals so it’s easily achievable, e.g. I want to have 1000 saved by April 2010, sub goals could be, research high interest accounts, open a savings account, set aside an amount each week for the savings etc

For goals requiring new habits to be developed go to www.ResultsAlliance.com for your printable sheets that will help you break down your goals into sub goals with a way of noting your progress daily and a reward system to keep you on track.

Litt fly, så tog og på 1-2-3 var man i Southampton!

Der leket man Amerikansk highschool film og kastet luene sine i været…

…Tok nærmere 1 million photobooth bilder med Priscillia som jeg bodde hos…

…Og spiste nattmat hos kjære Marta, etter en rundte på byen med henne og Audrey…

Så var man hjemme igjen, og her inngikk man avtale om råkost diett. Den prøvde jeg i 6 dager, men jukset 3 av de (flink…!)

…En del hormonelle hybeldyr må man også regne med på disse hyblene. Her bryter Kristian ned Christian i bakken…

Mye gøy med disse hybeldyrene! Enten sniker man på dem…

… ELLER så spiller du Tekken (og taper) med dem.

Må ikke glemme Mocca`en  fra Spesial. Den er høydepunkt, selv om bamsen fikk pukkel på hodet.

Også har man hengt litt med Birgitte…

… Og disse to: Gonzalo og Eduardo

Også gåingen da. Det har det vært litt for mye av. En stund lå skrittelleren på 12.000 i gjennomsnitt, og det er ikke tull engang. Nå har den droppet ned til 4000 da, så kan ikke skryte lengre.

Også var man på fest med sjokoladekaken til mannen som ble 25 for over 2 måneder siden…

Ellers har det vært mest jobbing, sulling på hybelen og heftig bruk av Skype… Jeg ELSKER skype…

Har dere hatt en fin måned da?

(…Og om noen lurer på hvor innlegget fra i går kveld ble av: jeg KASTET det! Var irriterende problemer med linkingen på sangen jeg la ut. Måtte fikse det uttallige ganger  i går, og da det var noe galt i dag tidlig også så slettet jeg likegreit hele greien…)

I go searching for something to blog about on this cold, grey November day. Thoughts always come to me when I’m out and about.

Ice fog is lifting off the Sauble Beach Parkway, hovering over the tops of the trees waiting to see if the sun can squeeze through the clouds to burn it away. The ceiling is too low though and it looks like rain.

The parking lot of my favourite breakfast spot is empty. Since we are well into the off-season I fear they might be closed. They’re not. But they are empty. Its a strange feeling given the crowds they cater to from May 24 to Thanksgiving. From my window seat I can see that ‘emptiness’ is all around me.

Main Street Sauble Beach is shuttered up tight for the winter. The plywood and such covering the windows and doors of the gift shops and restaurants add to the tackiness of the scene. This street screams ‘beach town’ at the best of times. You don’t notice it that much in summer because of the crowds. Summer people come here in droves and bring their big city ways with them filling in every ounce of space on both the street and beach.

I’ve always wondered why Southampton and Port Elgin don’t suffer this fate. They seem to rise above it. I’m not being critical here…just a personal observation.

But, it doesn’t matter now. The town is empty. The beach is empty. The stores are empty. I drive an empty shore road and a great calm descends on me. I realize why I love this time of year. It is still. No crowds madly rushing off in all directions at the same time. No craziness.

I drive on to the beach. I can park wherever I want and not pay the customary fee.  Walking in solitude I get lost in the emptiness.

The peace and quiet of the approaching winter is on the land.

“Are any of you single?”

Click.

That moment – that click – was the kick-start to my evolution, much happiness, self-acceptance, yet just as much confusion and even a little pain through many years.

Snapshot: Windham Mountain, NY, in January 1984. The picture: A tall, handsome boy with dark hair, a beautiful smile and even more beautiful eyes – eyes that spoke to me so differently than I had ever experienced before. But really, what had I experienced, at that point? I was just short of 15 (he was already 15, but only 6 months older than me).

I was there with my school’s Ski Club – something fun that my best friend, Natalie, and I thought we’d try out; we’d also recruited another close friend, Claudia, to join, too – though we had just started skiing, Claudia’s parents would often go to visit Germany, their home country, and Claudia had experience skiing the crazy mountains in Europe from the time she’d been a tot. Anyway, that quote from Brad was after a morning of lessons and the Bunny Hill for Natalie and me, when the three of us were on line for the ski lift to a regular slope. Three of us, one of him – he was looking to pair up with someone on the 2-chair lift. So I readily volunteered, and we talked the whole way up.

And talked, and talked.

We pretty much spent the rest of the day hanging out with him; I never knew where his friends were (though I vaguely remember asking him and him actually telling me), and I think he was with his school, too. Details, details… Anyway, it was funny enough – there we were, several hours upstate, and we met him there, when we actually lived a little more than an hour apart down on Long Island. When we left, the three of us exchanged addresses and phone numbers with him.

Typically, at that age, easy come, easy go. We had plenty of cute boys in our high school, and plenty of the typical teenage noise that goes on in a well-populated area. However, we kept in touch with Brad. It started out that Natalie, Claudia, and I all wrote letters back and forth with him (back then, there was no such thing as email, Internet, texting, or even flat-rate phone plans!), and I remember his mom bringing him out to spend the day with the three of us once.

Eventually, Natalie and Claudia’s letters dropped off, but I continued with the correspondence, behind all of the other day-to-day noise of high school. At some point, we switched over to phone conversations; I can’t remember exactly when that happened, but I believe it started about a year after we met, when he was in the hospital for an extended period due to a sickness. I think it was pneumonia, and I remember that he told me something about having a heart murmur – but what is clear was that once we started talking, there was nowhere for us to stop!

Years later, he told me that during that period, I became his connection to reality, because even though he’d had a lot of visitors early on during that stay, the longer he was in the hospital, the less he heard from people, until eventually I was the only one he could count on to call. Every day.

It was somewhere in there that we became best friends.

Funny, I still had Natalie, which ran its course around that time – largely due to my rebellion and going down some shady paths (Natalie, on the other hand, stayed fairly straight – she did have a “normal” family life, after all, and at some point, our viewpoints and attitudes skewed differently), and then I had other “best friends” and a number of good ones who I saw day to day. I was interested in this boy or that, and dated this boy or that. I even fell in love. But regardless of what was going on, at the end of the day, I would be home and on the phone with Brad, for endless hours of narration and discussion about our lives, our thoughts, and our feelings.

Thinking back, it’s funny that our friendship seemed to be in the background, because though I would definitely not have known how to say this back then, it was like we knew each other’s souls. For the first time, I felt understood; I had a consistent, supportive, positive voice in my head – and even if it was through the phone line, it started to help overwrite the years of negativity that had been programmed into me at that point, because finally, somebody really knew me.

And vice versa. Brad had issues of his own; though he had married parents and a “normal” household, he was the 3rd of 4 children, so he had similar feelings of disinterest by those around him as I did. He lived in Southampton (for those of you who don’t know, the Long Island haven for Bluebloods), and with the exception of a handful of close friends, he felt very detached and different from most of those who he went to school with, because though they had a solid household income level, he definitely wasn’t a Blueblood! As a 3rd child, he often felt ignored; like me, he was extremely intelligent, and like me, his parents didn’t pay much mind to him because “If school was going OK, then he must be OK,” right? Plus, that feeling of isolation had been heightened from that hospital stay in mid-high school.

So we worked through it all together, debated each other, egged each other on, teased each other, explored ideas together, and pushed each other forward. It’s sort of like my life had two different levels: There was my topical life – what everyone saw every day, such as school stuff, happenings, the friends I kept, the boys I dated, the family drama; and then there was us. Like it was two different dimensions of reality, and the connection between Brad and me was the red pill. It wasn’t just deep, it was my core – it was real. I could take the truth from Brad when I couldn’t from anyone else, and he accepted exactly who I was, the good and the bad, with no pretense. We listened to each other about romantic interests and woes. We were confused, got lost, and made sense of it all together. We both did stupid things, but (sometimes miraculously) made it out OK on the other end – and could talk about it with each other. Then we’d shake our heads, marvel at it, and move on.

Hours and hours on the phone. I can’t tell you how many times I got punished for the phone bill, and for keeping the phone tied up so no one could get through (there was no call waiting yet). But we always found a way to connect! When Brad and his friends got their licenses, we were able to see each other every once in awhile because they’d come for a visit; I’d also taken the train out… standard, easily accessible transportation which added the ability for us to get together and talk some more.

Through this period, I got hooked in with a lost crowd – I won’t say bad, because I really believe there are few truly bad teenagers, just lost ones. I became free with sex, starting when I was 15 (I guess a psychologist would say that it was a way for me to get the attention of which I felt deprived), and soon after that, I began experimenting pretty heavily with “recreational” drugs (yet still somehow stayed in Honors classes and on the surface, “functioned” pretty well). My family? Mostly, they didn’t even notice. But Brad knew all about it, usually down to every nauseating detail. One time, I even called him and got him worried sick because I’d gotten “slipped a mickey” and passed out while I was laying in bed, on the phone with him. He’d told me it had killed him to wait to hear back from me the next morning – because again, no cell phones, no call waiting (so therefore, I’d just passed out with the phone off the hook in my bedroom, so my mother had no way of knowing), and no other way to get in touch with my mom to have her check on me and see if I was alive and OK in my room. Sad that someone who lived an hour away knew more about my physical state than a parent who lived in the same house as me, isn’t it?

At the same time, Brad experimented a bit where he could, though Southampton was a little more sheltered than the typical middle and upper-middle class town where I lived. He dated and fooled around, but never fully did the deed, because he wasn’t overly thrilled with the choice of most of the girls where he lived. He had pretty available access to the basic “recreational” drugs – I remember there was a period when his older sister – who’d already moved out on her own – was apparently being investigated by the FBI because of her marijuana activity. For awhile, we had to have code words on the phone to discuss anything that might be construed as illegal drug use, mostly because of that! And I knew about all of it.

Off and on for almost 3 years, I dated (and fell in love with) a loser who would be considered a low-level drug dealer, providing easy access for me, while also putting me in situations I was lucky to have gotten through (fairly) unscathed. Threaded throughout was a stream of other varied liaisons and at the same time, personal discovery.

Most of the rest of the world had no clue about all of these details. Yet always, even though we were working out these things with the world, at the same time, we were working out the things – the really important ones, that were about 5 or 6 levels down – on the phone, with each other. And though some of it could be pretty ugly, there was never anything we couldn’t talk about; though we challenged each other and even would get angry and upset about some things with each other, there was no real criticism or judgment to make the other one feel bad about him- or herself. It was just natural concern that resulted from our bond.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering, “Why didn’t the two of you become a couple?”

Well, that’s the thing I really can’t explain. I thought him to be the most beautiful person I knew, inside and out, and our bond was undeniable. However, looking back on it now, I realize that my love for him was so much deeper than that – in fact, I think too deep and intense for someone at that age to be able to fathom. Heck, I think most adults couldn’t deal with that, either. But who knows? Maybe if we’d had the opportunity to be in each other’s physical presence more often, it might have been more of a conscious possibility.

But then, maybe not. Because it was when we tried exploring that dimension of our relationship that things started to get mucky – which always brings me back to the understanding that it was probably better, purer, and more solid the way that it was provided to us early on. Or, depending on how you look at it, how we chose for it to be.

20+ years – and a completely different life – later, there are still a few events with him that stand out in my mind, and make me wonder, what if, and why didn’t we? One is the day that provided us with our first crossroads of opportunity for a different exploration of our relationship. Read on:

It was early in the summer between my Junior and Senior year of high school. I was 17; Brad had just graduated from high school (he was a year ahead of me), and was planning on going away at the end of the summer, to the University of Detroit. I’d wanted to go out to his house and stay a night – not because of anything except that it would give us a few days together, which was always a hassle to plan out, because of the travel time between our houses. His parents loved me, so that wasn’t a problem, but my mother really didn’t know anything much about him except that Brad was this boy that I’d gotten in so much trouble talking to on the phone to over several years – and even though she’d allowed me to go out there on multiple occasions for the day, she wouldn’t even consider an overnight, even though we were “just friends,” and his parents would keep a close eye out. (As a parent myself now, I guess I can understand that. But that was then…)

I already felt the pangs of our separation, even though his departure for college was more than a month away. In addition, my loser boyfriend had broken up with me (it was somewhere along our 5th or 6th breakup over that 3-year period), and I really needed some downtime and some fresh scenery. So, strong-willed as I was (and by this time very used to being put upon to make my own choices), I took matters into my own hands. My then-partner-in-crime Karen (the “best friend” I always say was the one who I always got into trouble with – not that either of us was worse than the other, but it was like we spurred it on with each other! Again, stories for another day…) concocted a plan: There was a day when I had a Guidance Counselor’s appointment that my father was supposed to attend with me (to talk about my Senior year coursework); however, the appointment wasn’t until mid-afternoon. So we told Karen’s parents that we were going to stay at my dad’s the day/night before, and we told my mother that we were going to stay at Karen’s cousin’s house, and that we’d be back about lunchtime the following day. As unsupervised as I was those days, and as wily as Karen could be with her family, it was actually a pretty airtight plan – my mother didn’t check with Karen’s parents, and vice versa. Brad decided he couldn’t tell his mom – I think mostly because she would have wanted to speak with my mom, though she was well-versed in my troubled (or rather, non-existent) family life. Therefore, we simply planned to stay at his sister’s house.

And so we hopped the train out to Southampton on our overnight adventure! It’s funny, in the midst of the muck of those years, how clearly that day still comes to my mind. Brad and one of his best friends, Tom, met us at the train station, and we ensued on a day out on his family’s boat, out on Shinnecock Bay. Cruising, waterskiing, beach, and plain old fun and escape, with a couple of wine coolers (and maybe some beer?) thrown in. (Note: At that time, the drinking age had just shifted from 18 to 19 to 21, so it was still pretty easy to get the simple stuff like that when you were 18ish.) Karen and Tom had some interest in each other, so for a time later in the afternoon, while I was laying out in the sun on the front of the boat, Brad and I were alone to talk; we had a few things to sort through, and we were never so comfortable as when we were alone for our connection.

Let me back up for a minute, before I proceed. I realize I left something really important out of this. I guess it’s really important – it might seem to be a little tidbit in this story, but over the years, it’s one of the things that has repeatedly plagued me with the nagging questions that I can’t get rid of. So I’m going to rewind a little.

For the first time that day, I’d noticed something I had never experienced before: When Brad and I touched each other skin to skin – even just casually in passing, like if we just bumped into each other – it felt like a current of electricity passed between us – not like static electricity, but internally, like the sparks between 2 live wires when they touch. At that point, I was pretty experienced with guys (and much more physically experienced than I should have been at that age), and had even been through dating and “oh-my-God-I-love-him” relationships. But I’d never had anything close to that happen before. I never said anything about it, but I do know that it freaked me out and made me…well, uncomfortable, because I didn’t understand it. It was strange.

OK, so fast forward a little bit, back to the boat that afternoon: One moment we were talking, and the next moment… well, we were kissing.

And I think that’s the moment when I really came alive.

He’d never even been that kind of consideration – in fact, since by that age I had already so effectively trivialized physical contact via my escapades – because he was much, much more important than that! He was my confidante, the quiet voice behind the noise of the troublesome daily life of my teen years. It was as if he were a part of me, because he knew everything about me; I felt as if I were completely naked and vulnerable with him, but completely safe. And I knew he felt the same way about me.

At 17/18? Are you kidding me? How many people don’t get there with someone by the time they’re 25? 30? 40? Ever?

Yet it was that kiss that moved me along…. to what? I still can’t explain it, even in writing. I just know that in the first moments of that kiss, I jumped forward in self-awareness, beginning with the discovery that I wanted him, more than anything else in the world. And I wanted to be his first.

The rest of the afternoon was a slow crescendo of mutual desire and discovery. Knowing I was already planning to stay the night, we took our time, exploring this possibility that had never before come to light. Everything else was a blur, but somehow, I know we had dinner with Karen, Tom, and (I think) his sister and her boyfriend; I know we distracted ourselves a bit by smoking some pot. But that had nothing to do with the way my heart felt (in fact, I think I wanted to smoke a joint to try to ease the excitement a little); it which raced with anticipation for that evening, when we’d be able to be alone – and finally, completely together.

But, as it happens, that’s not the way it went. I’ve always felt like there was something beyond our control that was on a mission to prevent us from physically consummating our relationship that night, for some reason.

Here’s what happened: That evening, my father called my mother to confirm our Guidance Counselor appointment the next day (even though I had confirmed with him the week before); as usual, my mother was clueless about it (and probably hadn’t listened to me if/when I’d mentioned it). Not knowing what else to do, she called Karen’s house, even though we were supposed to be at her cousin’s with her family, and got her mother. When my mother brought it up and asked for the number to her cousin’s, the conversation got all confused, because Karen’s mother said that we were at my father’s. So, after a brief panic attack because she at that point had no idea where I was, my mother called a few of my other friends (who knew nothing), and then called Brad’s parent’s house. Now, his parents knew nothing either, but after the conversation, his mother called his sister’s house (knowing that Brad was staying over there that night), to ask if I was there.

His mom wasn’t mad that I was there; I think (if I recall correctly) that she was mostly mad because Brad hadn’t brought me by. But in the meantime, I knew I was in DEEP TROUBLE. So, later in the evening as it was, Tom and Brad drove us home; I walked in somewhere around 2am to find my mother and father sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me (and I knew I was SO busted!). I made up a story that I had in fact been w/Brad, but his mom hadn’t known (truth), and that I’d planned on coming home the whole time (lie) – I just knew it would probably be really late, and figured it was safer to plan that way. I know. Lame. I think I was punished for a month or so… though since my mother wasn’t home all that much, it was hard for her to keep me off the phone and really carry out that part of the punishment, anyway.

In the meantime, the more time I had to think about what had happened – and what had almost happened – the more it scared me, because I valued our togetherness and our bond  so much that I think I was afraid that it would ruin everything. And who knows? Sometimes now, I think maybe I was even more afraid that it wouldn’t ruin everything – and that it would take us to some depth that would be too far out of my realm of comfort, which I couldn’t comprehend. I don’t know. In the meantime, I know I made up some dumb thing to Brad about how he deserved better than me for his first, and that I was ultimately careless with guys I slept with and figured I’d eventually hurt him with my carelessness. I know, how stereotypical, right? Well, we were both all too willing to mask ourselves by covering up that passion by accepting such a thin excuse.

And by the time he left for college a month later, he’d found someone who was convenient – and probably far less dangerous – to “break him in.” By then, I’d tucked all those feelings away, and it was back to being OK. I got all the juicy details, and it never bothered me a bit, probably because it seemed different… I don’t think it meant as much to him, and I knew it would’ve held much more significance had it been with me, that night.

Anyway, as things went back to “normal,” I went out with others shortly after that, and went back to the loser boyfriend for a few more months before I was finally completely done with that – it may have had to do with my newfound strength after dealing with Brad going away to college. And Brad and I still talked for hours, back in “our place,” without any disruptions.

However, there is one other thing shortly afterwards that conveyed more depth than I was ever willing to admit: The day Brad left for college. I remember that it felt like I might as well be having an internal organ ripped out of me. I was physically in pain, and felt ill. I spoke with him several times, and for quite awhile…. and when I hung up, I cried in my room for hours, which was (and still is) purely foreign and uncharacteristic of how I ever dealt with difficulties.

Thoughts about that part of my life…which I call “Section 1″
In my mind, that’s where I end the first “section” of  my life’s development, on many levels. I look back and realize how much I had to learn – and how much I made myself learn – by the time I was a Senior in high school. When I look at it from an abstract or metaphysical point of view, it’s as if I pushed myself through on a “fast track,” to get through so much in so little time, so I could get to the “next step.” And I know that I wouldn’t have been able to get to it had it not been for Brad entering my life.

In fact, as I get through the other “sections” of my life to date, you’ll start to see the same pattern – that in one way or the other, no matter how close or far we are from each other, or how long it is between our conversations – that Brad is here. He’s a part of me, in one way or the other, and it doesn’t matter how far we are from each other physically, or how long we go between direct communication. But I hope to provide a better explanation (and develop an even better understanding) as I go on.

However, one piece of the puzzle I’m really studying – because my gut, third eye, or whatever tells me that it’s important – is that day, as described here. What were the odds that day, in such a perfect situation, when I’d just found out that I could have something I hadn’t even known I’d wanted more than anything else in the world, that it would have fallen apart by such strange events that seemed almost serendipitous? It still blows my mind, how it all happened – and how it didn’t happen. And it makes me think there were greater forces at work to prevent it from happening just then. But why? is the question that gnaws at me.

And overall, I’ve lived my life in similar sections – very fast-paced, very eventful, and very challenging – like I’m rushing to “get to the point.” As I get older – right now, at the ripe ol’ age of 40 – it seems to be getting more urgent that I “get through,” because I have to get… I don’t know where. But that somewhere is coming; my heart beats faster just thinking all of this out and writing it down, because it just knows. Which is what has made me start to look back – not just at the smaller sections, but across the full span of my life – to try to make sense out of this big jigsaw puzzle that’s beginning to take shape. And my first epiphany has come, which is why I’m here, so I can feel it out here, draw it out in words, and see if it all makes sense. I’m starting to feel that once I do that, the pieces will come together so my next level of understanding will come, and so forth. Because it seems like it’s very, very important suddenly that I do this – not something I’ve decided to do, but that my inner voice is telling me I have to do.

Enough said for today. I’m spent – this is the first time I’ve even put that period of my life into words, and that I was even able to punctuate it the way I did is amazing to me. I’ve lost half the day in doing this, but at the same time, am also amazed at how freely the words actually came. Because this stuff — well, it’s really buried deep. I know that there’s no one besides Brad and me who know all of this, and I’m just sure that he’s kept this as contained inside of him as I do inside of me.

However, the importance of that piece of the puzzle is what I’m still trying to understand.

May 2008. Southampton, Massachusetts.

Horses have a powerful effect on us. The worst of them sense our fears and take advantage of us. The best of them sense our dreams and take us there.

–Jim Wofford.

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DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: SOUTHAMPTON IN THE TOWER
Sonnet 53
Strange Shadows On You Tend
6 March 1601

Now, with Essex dead and the other conspirators also condemned, time grows short for Southampton’s fate to be decided.  The great shadow of Elizabeth Regina’s imperial frown, the “region cloud” of Sonnet 33, spreads over Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton in the Tower.  The tone of Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford is of increasing worry even as he writes in praise of his son, whom he likens to Adonis of “Venus and Adonis,” the 1593 poem dedicated to him by “Shakespeare.”

Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,

And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new.

Speak of the spring and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear,
And you in every blessed shape we know.

In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

(Following is an edited “short” version of the treatment of Sonnet 53 in my edition THE MONUMENT):

The Tower of London, where Southampton was held captive until James of Scotland became King James I of England

1 WHAT IS YOUR SUBSTANCE, WHEREOF ARE YOU MADE,
YOUR SUBSTANCE = your inner reality, i.e., your royal blood; “No, no, I am but a shadow of myself: you are deceived, my substance is not here” – 1 Henry VI, 2.3.49-50;

2 THAT MILLIONS OF STRANGE SHADOWS ON YOU TEND?
MILLIONS = countless; expressing, by exaggeration, the outrageousness of the “stain” or “disgrace” that has covered his royal son; SHADOWS = the darkness cast by the Queen’s dark cloud or negative view; (“But the world is so cunning, as of a shadow they can make a substance, and of a likelihood a truth” – Oxford to Burghley, July 1581); “Which, being but the shadow of your son, becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow” – King John, 2.1.499-500; TEND = “attend” or wait upon him as those who attend upon a king; “They ‘tend the crown” – Richard II, 4.1.199; echoing the “tender” (or offer) for acceptance by which Oxford has offered to pay “ransom” for his son’s life.

Title Page of "Venus and Adonis" (1593), by which "Shakespeare" entered the stage of history by his dedication to Southampton inside the book

3 SINCE EVERY ONE HATH, EVERY ONE, ONE SHADE,
EVERY = E. Ver, Edward de Vere; ONE = Southampton, his motto One for All, All for One; EVERY ONE = father and son together; EVERY ONE, ONE SHADE = you and I suffer together under the shadow that is cast over you; Note: “one” occurs six times in this sonnet, “every” occurs three times, “none” twice.

4 AND YOU, BUT ONE, CAN EVERY SHADOW LEND.
AND YOU, BUT ONE = and you, Southampton; ““Since all alike my songs and praises be/ To one, of one, still such, and ever so” – Sonnet 105, lines 3-4; EVERY = E. Ver; “But Henry now shall wear the English crown and be true King indeed; thou but the shadow” – 3 Henry VI, 4.3.49-50

5 DESCRIBE ADONIS AND THE COUNTERFEIT
ADONIS: the young god of Venus and Adonis, i.e., Oxford is referring to his own narrative poem  that he dedicated (as “William Shakespeare”) to Southampton in 1593; Adonis (symbol of male beauty) was once Oxford’s self-portrait (based on the Queen’s attempts to seduce him as a young man in 1571-73, if not earlier); but now Henry Wriothesley is the young Adonis in relation to his mother, Elizabeth, who remains Venus, goddess of Love and Beauty; COUNTERFEIT = likeness; that which is made in imitation of him; portrait of him; “But who can leave to look on Venus’ face … These virtues rare, eche gods did yield a mate./ Save her alone, who yet on th’earth doth reign,/ Whose beauty’s string no god can well distrain” – Oxford poem, published in 1576, writing of Elizabeth, who “doth reign” on earth as Beauty

6 IS POORLY IMITATED AFTER YOU:
POORLY IMITATED = inadequately portraying you

7 ON HELEN’S CHEEK ALL ART OF BEAUTY SET,

Southampton in the Tower (with his cat)

HELEN’S CHEEK = Elizabeth, pictured as Helen of Troy, most beautiful of women; “Within this there is a red/ Exceeds the damask rose;/ Which in her cheeks is spread,/ Whence every favor grows” – Oxford poem in The Phoenix Nest, 1593, writing of Elizabeth; ALL = Southampton; OF BEAUTY SET = expressing your “beauty” or blood from Elizabeth;“What thing doth please thee most?/ To gaze on beauty still” – Oxford poem, part of which appeared in The Arte of English Poesie, 1589

8 AND YOU IN GRECIAN TIRES ARE PAINTED NEW:
GRECIAN TIRES = Greek headdresses or attire; PAINTED NEW = recreated (given new birth) in these private sonnets

9 SPEAK OF THE SPRING AND FOISON OF THE YEAR,
SPRING = time of royal hope; Ver; FOISON = abundant royal blood, kingly bounty

10 THE ONE DOTH SHADOW OF YOUR BEAUTY SHOW,
ONE = Southampton, his motto; SHADOW OF YOUR BEAUTY = the ghostlike appearance of your royal blood from the Queen

11 THE OTHER AS YOUR BOUNTY DOTH APPEAR,
YOUR BOUNTY = your royal bounty; “I thank thee, King, for thy great bounty” – Richard II, 4.1.300; “

12 AND YOU IN EVERY BLESSED SHAPE WE KNOW.
EVERY = E. Ver, Edward de Vere; BLESSED = divine, sacred, godlike, royal; “Look down, you gods, and on this couple drop a blessed crown” – The Tempest, 5.1.201-202;  “A God in love” – Sonnet 110, line 12; “Likely in time to bless a regal throne” – 3 Henry VI, 4.6.74;

Secretary Robert Cecil, who agreed to spare Southampton and release him with a royal pardon -- once James was securely on the throne and he, Cecil, retained his power; the price, for Oxford, was loss of his son's crown and loss of his identity as "Shakespeare"

13 IN ALL EXTERNAL GRACE YOU HAVE SOME PART,
ALL = Southampton, One for All, All for One; EXTERNAL GRACE = show of royalty; “The king is full of grace and fair regard … this grace of kings” – Henry V, 1.1.22, 2 Prologue. 28;

14 BUT YOU LIKE NONE, NONE YOU, FOR CONSTANT HEART.
NONE = opposite of “one” for Southampton; LIKE NONE = like no other; NONE YOU = none like you; also, you are now a nobody; CONSTANT HEART = eternal royal power, with a heart that pumps your royal blood; always noble and royal; “our friends are true and constant” – 1 Henry IV, 2.3.17; “Crowned with faith and constant loyalty … constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood” – Henry V, 2.2., 5, 133; “Therefore my verse to constancy confined,/ One thing expressing, leaves out difference” – Sonnet 105, lines 5-8; “In constant truth to bide so firm and sure” – Oxford’s sonnet in “Shakespearean” form, to Queen Elizabeth, early 1570s

As you can see, Oxford does not use a “code” or any other kind of obscure language.  The words related to royalty and kingship are drawn from his own plays of English royal history, plays issued under the “Shakespeare” name; seeing them clearly in these lines is a matter of perception; and once you see them, you know that their presence in the Sonnets cannot be accidental.

Para quem vive num país onde o exército já invadiu universidades e caçou estudantes confesso que me vejo supreso com a quantidade de oficiais que tem fazendo pós por aqui. Além de quatro tenentes do exército na minha turma hoje assisti uma conferência da Pós em educação e, para variar, entre os palestrantes vários militares.

Um deles está fazendo um estudo sobre aprendizagem cultural (acho que dá para traduzir assim). Pelo que entendi a idéia dele é dotar o corpo militar de alguns níveis de conhecimento cultural, algo além de manuais “faça isso” ou “nunca faça aquilo”. Os soldados teriam um nível básico para lidar com diferenças culturais em situações previstas, algo como uma introdução a antropologia. Inclusive ele comentou sobre a experiência que os americanos estão fazendo com antropólogos junto ás tropas no iraque e afeganistão. Oficiais que tenham de lidar com população estrangeira teriam um nível mais alto e no final oficiais de estado maior com condições de entender e aconselhar acerca de outra cultura em níveis tático e estratégico. Para uma força que de vez em quando se enfia nos confins do mundo achei um estudo bem pertinente, bate com aquele velho ditado do Sun Tzu sobre conhecer seu inimigo (ou certos aliados).

Outro muito legal foi de uma Capitã que começou descrevendo uma emboscada com IED´s no afeganistão para mostrar a importância do “pensar fora da caixa” e como os insurgentes estão se tornando criativos em suas emboscadas.  E, portanto,  como seria interessante se os treinamentos incentivassem mais o pensamento independente e como o exército pode incorporar níveis de pensamento mais complexos ao treinamento de soldados.

Outro estava estudando Vygotsky e a aplicação de aprendizagem colaborativa para treinamentos. Perguntei para esse como ele via a aceitação de uma modalidade de treinamento tão horizontalizada em organizações hierarquizadas, e consequentemente, verticais como instituições militares. Ele falou que realmente não existe um caminho rápido, afinal cultura organizacional não pode ser ignorada, sugerindo uma implantação gradual ou atráves de experiências pontuais, para validar as aplicações.

O último foi sobre uma tecnologia de votação wireless que poderia ser utilizada em salas grandes para votações ou resposta de perguntas. A idéia seria oferecer um feedback para o professor durante a aula e oferecendo um certo grau de anonimato para o aluno. O professor pode saber quem é o aluno, mas a turma não.

Não sei como anda o relacionamento do MD brasileiro com as universidades já ouvi comentários em áreas como engenharia e etc. Talvez eu esteja sendo até bem óbvio, mas achei bem interessante ver o grau de investimento que o MoD britânico dá ao estudo e pesquisa em educação e treinamento.

Zemedia regularly films the John Hansard Gallery’s artists interviews and posts the result to their website. Normally this invloves filming the gallery Director, Stephen Foster, in conversation with one artist or curator – but on this occasion they required the filming of a discussion between Stephen and four artists.  All on a very tight budget.  So, this is a single operator set-up using three cameras and five clip mics mixed through two portable mixers. It took about two hours to set up and light and 45 minutes to film.
You can see the full interview at: http://jhg.blip.tv.

Simcha Jacobovici, Emmy award winning documentary filmmaker and presenter/producer of the hit TV show “The Naked Archaeologist” visited the University of Southampton in May 2009 at the invitation of The Parkes Institute. During his vist he took time to give advice to Film Studies students and to speak to zemedia producer Tim O’Riordan about his work, and how his religion affects his professional life.

Hartlepool Vs Southampton

Forests draw at the Riverside took us into the black on Saturday and we look to build on that with some League One action this Tuesday.

Only the staunchest Saints fans will have made the trip up to Hartlepool on this wet Tuesday but their supportwill be justified if Southampton can pick up all three points.

Southampton are in good form with just the televised defeat to Brighton their only defeat in 6. The striking thing about the Saints play at the moment is the amount of goals they are scoring, 28 goals in 17 games is a healthy return and in David Connolly and Ricky Lambert they have one of the more feared partnerships in the league. Meanwhile only Swindon and Wycombe have scored less goals at home than Hartlepool. Hartlepool set themselves up as hard to beat, they have kept 8 clean sheets this year which is the top in the division however recent home form could be slightly misleading though, victories against Tranmere and Leyton Orient will be most home teams ambitions this season and inbetween those results was the FA Cup exit to non-league Kettering.

Saints score goals away from home and will look to attack tonight, I expect them to create lots of chances as Hartlepool look to break on the counter. It took an own goal and a great effort from Robbie Williams of Huddersfield to beat Hartlepool on Saturday and it could be the case that the extra bit of quality in the Southampton side will make all the difference tonight. A nice bit of team bonding on the bus ride (or flight) up to Victoria Park could spur Saints onto the getting all three points and sending their supporters home happy.

1pt Southampton to beat Hartlepool (6/4 William Hill)

Good luck

In the next two weeks I am going to begin focusing more intensely on the texts I have selected for my casebook.

This post will focus exclusively on selections from The Confessions of Nat Turner and Related Documents [1]

What follows are three articles from Southern newspapers that reported the event of the Southampton Rebellion. I have isolated some phrases and words that bring to bear the perspective of the white Southern reporter during this time. The final article included is from William Lloyd Garrison and the article that appeared in his publication, The Liberator.

What exactly is my focus in this endeavor? I am looking at David Walker’s Appeal, as well as William Lloyd Garrison’s work in The Liberator and focusing specifically on the language of anti-slavery protest literature, how it is used, and how it compares and contrasts with the language used to describe the Southampton Rebellion. Why does this matter? Walker’s Appeal is written before the Southampton Rebellion, but there are very clear intersections between Walker and Garrison in terms of how they write the script for rebellion, present the language of early American dissent, and fill in some of what we can never know about the black American experience of slavery. Since accounts of the rebellion are largely those of white newspaper reporters, who are shocked by the events and begin to frame it as an aberration, the perspective of Garrison and Walker is essential in filling in some of the holes that have been created by white Southern accounts or recreations of the events of the Southampton Rebellion. What are the problems with this approach? Each of these contributions to the experience of slavery is fraught with its own prejudices and lend an element of personal bias to sift through. At root, the language and content should certainly be sifted through personal bias and perspective.

The Richmond Compiler, August 24, 1831

excitement
insurrection of negroes
insurrection had broken out among the blacks
several white families had been destroyed
the disturbers
names of the families, that are said to have been destroyed…destroying…destroyers
slightest intimation or dream of such movement. We have no doubt that the transaction has been much exaggerated…exaggerations
mischief
range of the evil
wretches, mad, infatuated, deceived by some artful knaves, or stimulated by their own miscalculating passions
ruin
folly and infatuation
subjected to this visitation
infected district

The most insightful line appears on page 62, where the reporter, seemingly in a moment of incredulous rage, states, “The wretches who have conceived this thing are mad – infatuated – deceived by some artful knaves, or stimulated by their own miscalculating passions.” Looking at some of the other words the author of this newspaper account uses the author seems to be genuinely befuddled by the entire rebellion and marks it up to the work of extreme imagination. The use of words akin to imagination and exaggeration seems to undermine the impact of the rebellion. An overwhelming implication of fantasy-ridden slaves surfaces through this account and the language downplays the seriousness of the rebellion, relegating the rebellion to the acts of wretches engaging in idle mischief. Particularly the use of “infected district,” raises images of slaves being infected by delusions of justice, independence, freedom. Nowhere in this account is there an identification of the goal the slaves most ardently sought: freedom.

The Constitutional Whig, August 29, 1831

appalling dangers
insurrection
mischief perpetrated, perpetrators
insurgents
butchered
slaughter
ruthless villains
murdered
helpless
disorderly
atrocities
wound up to a high pitch of rage
suppressed
enraged inhabitants
ulterior object/purpose
fanatical revenge
blind fury
murder and destroy all before them
horrors of the late scenes
feel safe in their homes

Again, the word mischief comes up in the language of this account of the rebellion. The slaves involved in the rebellion are referred to as insurgents, ruthless villains, and perpetrators, which only further figures them as objects or mischievous agents of the rebellion, and not as humans seeking freedom. Something else I was thinking about in these newspaper accounts is the element of intimacy affronted by these seditious acts. Throughout the reports there is a distinct theme of shock and surprise. The rebellion came as a complete surprise to the Southern white Americans in this region, as they treated their own slaves well (or so they thought). The use of words associated with delusional misgivings, “fanatical revenge,” is used here as well. I am also fascinated by this use of the word destroy and disturb (in the previous newspaper account). There seems to have been a serene tranquility in Southampton that was disturbed or destroyed. This is an event unlike anything these people have ever seen and has come as a complete shock to their community system.

The Richmond Enquirer, August 30, 1831

strange events in the county of Southampton
horrible ferocity of these monsters
parcel of blood-thirsty wolves rushing down from the Alps
former incursion of the Indians upon the white settlements
helplessness
distressing time
massacred
infernal brigandage
[Nat] artful, impudent and vindictive
scheme
nefarious expedition
murderous career
wretches
murderous deeds
[Nat] ring-leader

The words of this account spit from the mouth of the reporter. Wretches, monsters, blood-thirsty wolves. The frequency of the word wretches in these accounts is rather telling of the white American perspective of slaves in the South. The line “parcel of blood-thirsty wolves rushing down from the Alps” is illustrative of the white American description of the slave revolt, further relegating them to animals, brutes. The slaves involved in this revolt are animal-like, out for blood, the basest animal, hopeless, depraved, sick. This event is perceived as an act in response to an illness of the mind, of the body.

The Liberator, September 3, 1831

first step of the earthquake
shake down the fabric of oppression
first drops of blood (coming from gathering clouds)
first flash of lightning
first wailings of bereavement
sackcloth
hour of vengeance
prophecy
fulfillment of prophecy
poetry/imagination realized
record of slaughter
dreadful retaliation
the oppressor and the oppressed equal at last in death
spectacle
combat (instead of insurrection)
prison is crowded with victims destined for the gallows
oppressors
crime of oppression is national
sufferings
brutes
patriotic hypocrites
panegyrists
condemnation
heroes
excesses

Contrary to the other accounts, Garrison’s account marries with some of the perceptions of these reporters, with the use of words such as “brutes,” “slaughter,” and extends some of the more brutalizing words of the insurrection, which further bridges the gap between the Southern white American perspective of the event with the way in which the event is received elsewhere, particularly by anti-slavery constituents. Repeating “first” three times in the beginning of this article, Garrison underlines the idea that this will happen again, this is truly the first in a series of revolts on American soil. Garrison also links this up with elements of nature, comparing the possibility of an insurrection to an earthquake, lightning, gathering clouds. Aligning the insurrection with the fulfillment of a prophecy also places the events of the Southampton Rebellion with Biblical prophets who were victims of struggle in their own times. It is important to notice this use of language, reserved for the white victims of the Southampton Rebellion, to describe those slaves who participated in the rebellion: “prison is crowded with victims destined for the gallows,” “heroes,”  “combat.” These are the seeds of dissent concerning the American institution of slavery. Also, it is interesting to notice the fulfillment of the fanatical events in the line where Garrison talks of poetry and imagination being realized. White American accounts in the South place so much emphasis on the delusional nature of the slave rebellion, where Garrison places it closer to the realization of a dream.

I wonder if this dream — dreaming being something we fantasize about, something we wish and hope for, but something that may not be uttered into words — is at the root of the civil rights movement.

[1] Greenberg, Kenneth S., ed. The Confessions of Nat Turner and Related Documents. The Bedford series in history and culture. Boston: Bedford Books of St. Martin’s Press, 1996.

Southampton, known as ‘the gateway to the world’, has seen many visits from the world’s greatest ocean liners, including the QE2 and the Titanic.

Every year the city hosts sailing events, such as the Southampton Boat Show, which attracts tourists from around the world.

The port rose from humble beginnings. The ancient seaport of Hamptun, from which the city gets its name, appears in some of the country’s earliest historical records. It was in Roman times that Southampton’s first port was first built on the River Itchen. Raids by the French on the 14th century led to the construction of forts, or walls, some of which still stand today. Bargate and Westgate are two of the best preserved Medieval Town Walls in the UK.

During the following centuries, Southampton’s status as a port grew. It was in 1415 that Henry V sailed to France and Agincourt, and in 1620 English Puritans set sail in search of the New World, on The Mayflower.

Competition from other ports saw trade decrease until the opening of the first dock in 1836.

The steam age developed, and so did the city of Southampton. Adding to this development was the arrival of the railway from London and its shipping industry.

In the 1930s, ships sailed from Southampton around the globe, making it the ‘Gateway to the World’. Unfortunately, Southampton’s sucess became its downfall when the city was flattened during World War Two.

Since then, the city has been rebuilt and redeveloped. The city remained Britain’s leading port in the 1950s and 60s. In 1962 over half a million passengers passed through the port, as well as 4% of imported cargo into Britain. The 1970s saw the port changed by some older docks becoming redundant. The number of passengers travelling through the ports of declined as air travel took off in the 60s. In the 1980s and 90s some of the old docks were converted into areas of shops and offices and marinas.

The 1938 handbook to Southampton Docks states:

“Within comparatively recent years, Southampton has become established as one of the foremost commercial seaports of Britain. The facilities and equipment are among the finest in the world, and the development of the dock system under Railway Company ownership has been marked by an era of progress unparalleled in the history of the port. This great increase in trade has conferred upon Southampton the title of Britain’s Premier Passenger Port and also the forth port in respect of the value of freight traffic dealt with.” Today, whilst visitors stop to admire the QE2 harboured in Southampton’s docks, it might surprise them to know that Southampton is also the home of the fighter plane “Supermarine Spitfire” or “Spitfire” for short, designed for use by the RAF in World War II.

It’s no surprise that Southampton’s port became known as the ‘Gateway to the World’.

This is the *very* reason why you shouldn’t let IC Design Engineers eat in public!

Depois de um IELTS e um TOEFL achei que já tinha garantido um nível razoável de ingles, ao menos o suficiente para dar conta da vida aqui nas ilhas. Na prática descobri que estava sutilmente errado, pois a princípio consigo me comunicar, lendo, escrevendo e falando bem como todos os outros estrangeiros inscritos no curso. Porém, a fluência verbal cria alguns problemas imprevistos que só tornam-se visíveis aqui. Percebi que eu e os outros conseguimos entender os professores, mas em falas mais longas começamos a perder certos detalhes. O fio da meada se torna mais escorregadio a medida que o tempo passa e logo se perde o foco ou uma metáfora ou nuance que muda o significado do discurso é perdida.

Minha impressão é que devido ao esforço para interpretarmos a segunda língua sofremos um pequeno atraso que vai minando nossa capacidade de interpretação. É como se o nosso buffer de memória fosse um pouco menor. Essa degradação na nossa performance torna-se mais aparente nos textos longos, tanto pelo cansaço como pelo aumento do atraso durante as frases mais longas. Demora-se para entender o início da frase, aí perde-se o fio da meada no meio e o final simplesmente já não lhe faz mais sentido.

Portanto, sugestão para quem pretende vir para cá, não importando o seu nível de inglês faça muitos exercícios de conversação antes, nem que seja bater papo com estrangeiros, pois com pessoas com a mesma fluência creio que isso vai render muito pouco.

Found this list online, here, and thought it was interesting. Good for Spurs and Villa fans at least.

The list is correct as of 17/11/09.

Top 20 Teams For Producing England Internationals (all time):

1. Aston Villa – 68
2. Tottenham – 62
3. Everton – 59
4. Liverpool – 58
5. Man United – 57
6. Arsenal – 54
7. Blackburn – 48
8= Man City, West Brom – 42
10= Chelsea, Sheff Wed – 41
12. Nottingham Forest – 37
13. Derby – 36
14= Sheffield United, West Ham – 35
16= Newcastle, Wolves 33
18. Leeds – 30
19. Middlesbrough – 29
20= Bolton / Southampton – 26

May 2008. Southampton, Massachusetts.

No better feeling on earth than galloping through green fields in fine weather.

Shot for Hoofpix Sporthorse Photography. Uploaded using Flickr.

PERHAPS the most important result outside the top two divisions so far was at Elland Road, when Charlton took just a point from Leeds.

Perhaps it’s too soon to be billing that game as a title decider but, to my way of thinking, that’s exactly what it was.

Leeds are by far and away the strongest side in the division and the Addicks might well regret their failure to rein in Leeds’ early lead, even just a little, more than they might currently suppose.

League 1 seems to become more competitive with every passing week, particularly in terms of the resurgence of the three former Premier League sides relegated last season.

Charlton have already caught the eye this season, pressing Leeds at the top of the table, but Norwich and Southampton increasingly look like they might have a say on what happens at the top of the table, even if they might not be making their own claims for promotion.

The Outlook Index and our forecasted final table show the position nicely, with Leeds a country mile ahead at the moment.

They are currently also the most in-form side with an impressive +11 Trend figure, the highest in the division.

Taken with their 24-point advantage on the  Index ratings, Leeds, as I’ve already said at least twice this season, are as close to nailed on for the League 1 title as any side in England at the moment – even if, as we discovered this week, we don’t actually know who owns the fallen Yorkshire giants.

The notional battle for second place also has its fair share of fallen big boys with Leeds and Norwich both seeking an immediate return to the Championship.

Southampton are the exception, given that they have had to clear the ten-point deduction they received for going into administration.

On the plus side, like fellow south coasters Portsmouth, in the short term at least, they seem to have staved off the threat of closure.

Looking at the Index ratings at the end of last season, it’s interesting to see how each has fared since dropping down, without the distortion of the league table to mess with our perspective of current affairs.

Given the state these sides were in at the end of last season, they must all be fairly pleased with the first part of their seasons.

Norwich might have lost a manager along the way but the worry for all three clubs must have been that after dropping into the mire, they would have kept on falling, a scenario that does not currently appear likely.

However, that form has largely been a continuation of what we saw at the end of last season when Charlton, despite relegation, actually ended the campaign with a +6 Trend figure.

For the other two sides the picture was more cloudy.

Even now, Southampton are labouring with a negative Trend figure which will probably prevent them recovering from the points deficit fast enough to reach the play-offs.

But, while they remain anchored to the bottom of the table, the conversation among less evolved types is always going to be about whether they can avoid a second successive relegation.

My points forecast is quite conclusive in its finding that the Saints will not start next year in League 2 which makes me wonder if there’s a chance to lay them to go down.

Liquidity is low in this markets but there has been plenty of short money matched on them dropping and I can still see the opportunity to oppose Saints for the drop at around 6.