Everything else

Listen, now, it’s early days yet but I’m on my fifth day since quitting smoking, and it’s going rather well.

This isn’t the first time I’ve quit. I can remember at least three occasions in the last few decades where I’ve stopped for 3-9 months. Obviously, the change did not stick.

The main difference this time around is one of mindset. If you’re a smoker or former smoker yourself, you may be familiar with a book titled Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking. In the past month I’ve read this book, which was first recommended to me well over fifteen years ago, and have taken its approach into practice.

I’m not here to shill for someone else’s book or clinics. Rather, I’m sharing this update because I’ve been genuinely surprised at just how easy the experience has been. This feels worthy of being open about.

The opening of The ParaPod: A Very British Ghost Hunt will be experienced differently depending on whether or not you are familiar with what it is based upon. It’s possible that you may be curious enough to head out and watch the first film based on a podcast – so the marketing puff claims, and I see no reason to disagree – without actually knowing what that podcast is.

This hypothetical ParaPod viewer might watch the opening credits, with its montage of spooky grainy night vision footage, titles in a bone-chilling font, and a voice-over of co-host Barry Dodds clearly experiencing genuine terror and distress, and draw certain conclusions. For example, they might conclude that this film will contain many people being terrified, a lot of spooky locations, and perhaps even involve some ghost-hunting.

Someone who is familiar with the source material may conclude differently. But let’s assume, dear reader, that you are not familiar with niche British comedy podcast The ParaPod, and put a pin in such speculation for now.

Well, here’s something I’ve been meaning to write for about five months. The film Pontypool is pretty old news now: I originally heard about it in early 2010 due to its appearance on a ‘Best Horror of 2009’ list, and its original theatrical release was almost two years ago. Question of timeliness aside, I think Pontypool is one of the most interesting horror films I’ve seen in some years and easily worthy of being written about.

The film is almost entirely set within a single building, the local radio station of Pontypool, Ontario (a real and otherwise not notable town), focusing on a handful of core characters. These are Grant Mazzy, the recently hired, hard-drinking, cynical yet idealistic host of an early morning show; Sydney Briars, Mazzy’s Producer and handler – constantly trying to keep Mazzy on-message – and Laurel Anne, a production assistant recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Other characters are briefly featured, some only appearing as calls in to the station.

To briefly recap the film’s plot: Mazzy is on his way into work in the midst of a snowstorm. Whilst waiting at lights he encounters an apparently distressed woman who repeats the words “who are you” at him before vanishing into the night. (Later, her voice can be heard again, near the station – a portent of things to come.) Ignoring this odd event Mazzy heads on to the run-down station and prepares for another night’s work: a bottle of whiskey, arguments with Sydney about what he should be talking about, inane reportage on local colour, and mild flirting with Laurel-Anne.

This is not what unfolds. Within about fifteen minutes the first suggestion that something is awry emerges. Several members of staff have yet to appear at the station. Soon after, transmissions over the police band mention a disturbance. A code 48, a van full of people, a hut being towed, guns and then no guns, suspects being taken into custody, others fleeing… there is a lot of confusion and although the situation appears to be resolved, tensions are heightened. There is still a sense that something is wrong, that something more is to come. ‘Roving reporter’ Ken Loney calls the station, reporting an impossible mass of people around a local doctor’s building – one Doctor John Mendez, who is under investigation for unnecessary prescriptions. Loney describes an “explosion” of people – an impossible mass erupting from the building – and army trucks and helicopters heading in.

No one likes being told how they should vote. Instead, I’ll share a few reasons why I’m voting Labour.

Critically, I want to emphasise that in the UK General Election 2019 I have a choice to vote for something that I value, that resonates with me, that feels urgent and necessary, and charts a path forwards through the many challenges faced by the UK and our entire civilization (if you feel this is melodramatic, I feel you are not paying attention). This is a stark contrast with GEs prior to 2017, which for me were typically sordid exercises in lesser-evilism. But I don’t want to talk about lesser evils, or reasons not to vote for other parties. I want to talk about reasons for voting Labour, today.

I originally wrote this in mid-August, and although politics has come at us fast over the following couple of months, I feel like this is still relevant. 

It’s funny how politics can burn you. It’s not that long ago that I remember thinking of the Liberal Democrats as a potential force for progress and positive change in the UK. Call me naive, because when it came to electoral and party politics, I certainly was.

Before 2010 the Lib Dems had long pushed for voting reform and abolition of First Past the Post. I welcomed it. Such reform, I believed, would undermine what I saw as a contemptible convergence between Blairite Labour and Cameronian Toryism, each squabbling over the swing voter demographic of whatever middle England was imagined to be, proposing similar policies and twitching the curtain of the Overton window as they scapegoated the nebulous figure of ‘the immigrant’. Anything but more Blairism, I thought, but never the Tories.

Before C and I moved to Finland last year, we spent 24 hours in Helsinki trying the city on for size (sure, I also had a job interview).

We were relieved to discover that Helsinki has at least a few bars pushing craft beer. As big fans of the UK’s craft beer renaissance, and total newcomers to Finland, we were concerned we might be missing out on one of our preferred vices.

We tried out the Sori Taproom (nice beers, small quantities, rather expensive), Bier Bier (great beers, slightly larger quantities, very expensive) and The Riff (good music, okay beers, did unfortunately meet an anarchist Finn and a Bulgarian sound engineer who spent a full hour promoting the ‘great replacement’ conspiracy theory).

A friend recently gave me a packet of extra spicy instant noodles. “They’re extremely hot,” he warned. I took his statement at face value; he’s not given to exaggeration.

He also showed me a huge bag of dried birds eye chillis. We were enthusing about Helsinki’s Chinese supermarkets; the largest of which I’m aware cluster in Hakaniemi, near the “hip” Kallio district and punky Sornainen. Many ingredients, spices, sauces, accoutrements and sundries can be found here which can’t really be found elsewhere: I was particularly pleased to find a variety of Thai vegetables (a Tom Yam soup and any of those incredible coconut milk-based curries aren’t really the same without them), huge quantities of frozen pre-made dumplings (including Japanese gyoza and Korean dim sum) and every known variant of Flying Goose-brand srichacha sauce (including Extra Garlic, which my partner swears by – she is not wrong).