A Wish

Jet lag finally left me at the start of this week. In a funny kind of way I was sad to see it go.

It was to say the least an inconvenience. I frequently felt like I was still walking when I'd just stopped, but there was more to it than that.

I'd not get dizzy for a while and quickly assume that was it, only to be hit once again with that strange feeling of motion without motion.

It all reminded me of the sense of the incredible that I'd experienced.

Walking alone down the streets in Japan at night was one of the most serene experiences of my adult life.

My Ipod, as it does, seemed to fire a line of perfection straight to my brain and only chose songs that were either beautiful, sad or both.

It wasn't until it picked me a song from one of my favourite videogames of all time that I really got a sense of something so special it pretty much pinned me to the spot.

If you read this very often you'll get why I play old videogames so much. There's no purer test. Modern games simply can't compare in so many different ways. The internet was simultaneously the best and worst thing ever happen to videogaming. It opened up the world but it killed our imagination.

Secret of Mana is still a game I refuse to consult the internet for because I've played it that many times I don't really need to but more to the point I don't want to. I turn off my laptop and play it on a day when I've got time to myself and that's all I have to think about.

The particular piece of music above comes at a real turning point in the story where the party have to negotiate an icy forest in order to progress. It's the first time in many ways that you get a real sense of group harmony. The lady, I always called her Mina for some reason, is still looking for Dyluck. The sprite is still angry at everyone and leaning new spells and our intrepid hero has no idea why fate has chosen him to save the world.

The Crystal Forest is truly one of the most magical points of the entire story. The party throw themselves into the task with a remarkable zeal and true serenity of the accompanying score acts a perfect counterbalance to this new found determination. It sings a perfect 16 bit lullaby, reminding us that however focused or driven we may be, the realisation of true beauty is always empowering.

I played this game first when I was around 15 and I'd borrowed it from a friend at school. These agreements always came with a set of terms and the primary was simply that I'd only got a week before my friend wanted the game back. My studies, as they did frequently back then, took a back seat to this all encompassing world as I vanquished a never ending army of monsters every evening that week in February.

My progress was good but simply not good enough, however, and I found myself stuck fast on the last dungeon in the game on Thursday evening with my return date set at the following morning. I waited until my parents had gone to sleep and silently powered up my trusty Super Nintendo. Sitting steadfast in my chair, I was determined to give it one last effort.

This was easily looking like my finest attempt but it seemingly wasn't to be and the final boss crushed both my party and my dreams in one fell swoop. I retreated to bed with my head still full of questions regarding just what could have happened if I'd have saved the world.

For some reason the next morning I woke up super early and realised I had time for one last effort but I'd not saved my game from last night and had to begin in the Crystal Forest. I turned the sound on low and immediately was enthralled by the haunting melodies that I'd somehow heard but never listened to.

I sat and imagined other worlds and places and wondered how real any of them were? I thought about destinations all over this planet and others and thought of people just like me looking up at the same sky but seeing stars. I lost track of how long this lasted but it clearly lasted long enough to thwart my chances of a resolution.

As I resigned myself to another day of school and sadly the thought of returning the game, I drew open the curtains and the results left me almost without breath. There had been a severe snowfall over night and the main road I could just make out from the distance was white as a sheet and jam packed with non moving cars.

This couldn't happen today could it?

I sprinted downstairs and powered up the nearest radio to listen intently to the school closures with the vain hope of hearing mine there but, alas, as the gleeful presenter reached the end of his list it was nowhere to be heard.

I was broken. This was crueler than anything I had words for. I drank my tea and began my cereal before a noise from the kitchen once again caught my attention. The presenter was reading a list of further cancellations and as I walked in I heard him utter the words, "St Thomas More RC High School is closed for the day due to the snow to both pupils and staff."

I couldn't believe it. I looked at my mum who instantly reboiled the kettle, it was obvious what I was going to ask I like to think, and I quickly began changing into casual clothes for the day's inevitable gaming marathon. Mother Nature had come to my rescue and, although not a great believer in fate, I felt that this was the universe reaching out and sending me a message.

I beat the game later in the day, she did find Dyluck eventually but it's a complicated story, however more than the snowy paradise of a lost Friday , I always seem to cling on to the daydream I had. Every single time I hear that music I'm transported back to that day when I tried to comprehend the scope of something so vast that it's impossible to even begin.

Walking through down the streets of Japan that night I clutched my recently purchased tea bags and milk to my side as I made my way back to the hotel. I was exhausted but as the familiar tones of the Crystal Forest began echoing through my head I felt compelled to stare upwards for what seemed like a lifetime.

Those same stars I'd wondered about seemed closer than ever.
The mystical lands lay beneath my feet and any dream suddenly felt possible.

There's no way we'll ever know everything; it's foolish to approach this logically. It's never wrong to dream about such complexities however, to swim in vast oceans of the unfathomable or to picture somewhere that seems a million miles away.

That moment was my wish and for those few minutes of Crystal clarity, nothing else even registered.

Speak soon
Take care
I'll never let you down
Ben

There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it

It's a hard thing to leave any deeply routine life, even if you hate it - John Steinbeck

There's a few reasons why I wanted to write this today. I've had a big rush of things to say and, spurred on by watching videos of people making videos for the sake of making videos, I'm aware of the importance of self reflection.

I've had a lot of time to think over the past few days, what with travelling quite a lot, and I've reached a few important conclusions.

I'm officially retiring from the world of MMA Journalism.

In all honesty this isn't that big an announcement as it seems because I've not been writing online much since last July but I've been continuing my endeavors in print with Fighters Only. I've had some truly amazing experiences and would like to thank everyone for their support. It's been nothing short of incredible but the time has come to put it behind me and move forward. No more Ben "The Pen", to be fair I was getting sick of that anyway!

Secondly, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who helped me out, not only while I was away, but at any point on this crazy journey. There's way too many of you to mention but you know who you are, all of you.

Everyone who helped me out in any way this past weekend, however, I'm eternally in your debt. You all made what was a fairly insane experience, perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better time and the serenity I felt eating a shrimp burger and chatting with some really cool people made everything slow down a little bit which was perfect.

Rather than write a huge meandering blog about my travels this time, however, I thought I'd pin up a series of videos and images that sum up exactly my experiences.

Speak soon,

Take Care

Ben 

The Perfect Snow Day

Thursday 17th January

All week I'd read the weather report. It changed on a daily basis from light snow to moderate snow, from be aware to be prepared.

Monday had bought us a flurry of snow that sadly retreated by mid morning. The promise of a hallowed snow day was hastily vanquished by the midday sun which almost seemed to taunt our grey building somehow.

I continued with the day to day ridiculousness of my usual job throughout the week but secretly hoped that the snow that we'd been promised for the end of the week would come back with a vengeance.

I finished the paperwork I'd put aside that afternoon as I wandered down the corridor, I noticed just how dark it had become.

The novelty of walking home in the dark had worn off but the last few days had been a reprise and the pitch black January sky took me aback as I prepared to make my way home.

Still, at least it wasn't raining.

The door opened to the unforgiving outside world and I looked up into the lamppost by the office to see nothing but thick snow falling at a rate of knots.

I steeled myself for the two mile jaunt and arranged my scarf about my head so I looked a little like the Iron Sheik, at least I was dry though.

It took a little longer than usual to get home but the snow didn't relent the whole time and my one saving grace, as I kicked my shoes off and Alison made me a cup of tea, was that the house was so snug that I instantly warmed up.

I lost track of the evening in a haze of trash television, pro wrestling and bagels but before I went to bed I looked quickly out of the window. I was disappointed not to see a snowy serenity akin to Dragonblight and sighed as I resigned myself to another snow day that didn't quite happen.

Friday 18th January

As the familiar tones of the alarm pulled me out of a blissful sleep without a second thought, I immediately remembered about the promise of snow. The Met Office had given a red warning in some areas (expect serious disruption) and I imagined just what that would mean for those stranded as I crawled out of bed.

There was more of a generous dusting of snow than I remembered the night before but nothing like the day after tomorrow that I was expecting. It was over. My dreams of a blissful day under a selection of blankets, playing Super Nintendo and eating crumpets were shattered and I moodily ate my honey hoops with an air of resignation.

I'd got myself ready in record time somehow and I wished my sleeping girlfriend a good day, she wasn't at work through her own good planning, but as I opened the door a sight greeted me that literally took my breath away.

The snow was falling hard and fast all around and I quickly retreated into the warmth temporarily as I grabbed a hat and a scarf. We're not meant to be adventurers anymore, society doesn't need us to be. There's not much left to discover. We live in a bubble in a lot of ways, ensconced by the luxury that the advances in technology afford us. This however, was as close to an adventure as I was going to get for a while.

As I trekked to work with a suitably huge soundtrack of videogame music from the 1990s, I was first aware of how much snow was falling by the main roads which were becoming whiter by the second.

Even the canal had frozen over and I hurried onwards to the sanctity of the office to find shelter from this unlikely storm.

I got to the office and was greeted by a few faithful sorts and we quickly swapped stories about our respective voyages.

The phone never stopped ringing at first as people called in to cancel whatever appointments they had booked.

The first e-mail that I received was one from head office. That was usually serious but this one simply told us about other branches that had been shut because of the severity of the weather.

I had 18 people booked in to see me at 10am but only 4 were able to make the trip; a poor turnout even by the usual standards. We'd originally been told that, if we had to leave to avoid being snowed in but weren't officially told to leave, we'd have to sacrifice annual leave because we'd not been instructed to leave, if that makes sense. It doesn't I know. I may be wrong but that's how it was explained to us.

This seemed like merely details though, because this snow flurry was passing the litmus test which usually weeds out most other would be snow days. It showed no signs of relenting, the roads were becoming covered in snow and the traffic past our office, one of the busiest roads in Stoke, was grinding to a halt.

I walked down the corridor to the office where my brother was located to ask if he needed a hand with anything. I sat writing envelopes to people for about 15 minutes while we all talked about sledging. This felt very real. These letters were taking forever.

This was to contact people who weren't able to be contacted by phone. Then it hit me all at once. This was it. There was going to be an announcement and it came almost instantly as the thought had left my head.

"We've been told if you've made plans for your afternoon clients then you're free to try and get home. You've made it in today so you won't be required to use annual leave for the rest of the day."

It was around 11:20 and my weekend had already started. I wished a safe journey to my friends and colleagues and began on my second snowy adventure of the day.

The door opened into the outside world and the blustery conditions intensified as I prepared to re walk the steps I had trodden only hours before. As I set out into the tundra I glanced back at the grey building that it felt like I'd just escaped from. The snow had given it a curious visage that attracted my glance but, not wanting to waste any time, I strode forward purposefully.

The traffic had stopped, thanks to a lorry that couldn't get up a hill, and I wondered about all the people this snow had disrupted.

I stopped off at the Co-op on my way to pick up some crumpets, crisps, milk and a few other snow day essentials but they soon grew heavy as I tackled the final hill across the canal.

This walk seemed longer than I remembered but my Ipod played a blinder by selecting some truly magical videogame classics. Link wouldn't get stuck up this hill, that was for sure.

Alison opened the front door as I made it up the steps. She immediately dipped into the bag to retrieve some Hula Hoops before ushering me into the warmth. That, as they say, was that.

The perfect start to the most perfect snow day I think I've ever had.

The last few days have been spent eating grilled bread products, making snowmen, shopping, playing videogames and drinking tea; everything a perfect snow day should contain really.

Usually there's a big point to writing whatever I'm writing but today, I just want to put this down so I never forget how much fun I had. I never want to take anything for granted but we live in a culture that promises us the world if we can wait another few days. We bypass the now in exchange for a brighter future but at what price?

Never forget the now.
You'll never relive it.

Take care
Ben

It was there. I was there. We were all there.

As I walked to work, accompanied by the rainy winter chill, I stared onwards for a bit longer than normal when I got to the end of the burned out road. 

The modern age affords us more and more luxuries on a daily basis but one that we take for granted is music.

What started as an intimate art form between groups of the like minded has quickly become yet another air bound currency. 

Why shouldn’t we be able to listen to the complete works of everything and anyone whilst traversing wastelands to our various 9-5 haunts?

There’s very little consequence to skipping eras that changed millions just to get what we want a little quicker. It’s hard to believe that anything could be more temporal than the throwaway culture that envelops us on a daily basis.

As the thought of strolling down another cold road became a grim reality I stopped for a brief second as warm sounding synthesiser bypassed my ears and swam straight into attention.

It was there. I was there. We were all there.

I stared up into the rain as beauty resonated and a voice negotiated me through empty rooms and corridors with an almost surgical clarity and precision.

I've got my life in a suitcase,
I'm ready to run, run, run away..
I've got no time, 'cause I'm always trying to run, run, run away
'Cause everyday in here feels like it's only a game.
I've got my life in a suitcase, a suitcase, a suitcase...

I could have stood there forever.

If you live at 100 miles an hour, you lose the sensation of speed that you craved all along.

For every time I drove across the country in the middle of the night, every story I listened to for the fourteenth time, every cliché I saw ticked and every heart I saw broken. Every shirt that was three sizes too small and every ego that was three hundred sizes too big. It all became worth it; every single second of it.

Cage Warriors 51 - The Lost Vikings

29 shows.

That's unreal isn't it?

The crazy thing is that it's not even the most I've ever done in a year but it's undoubtedly the biggest. I did 34 shows in 2011 but I was writing a lot more. It's not that I don't write as much now but it's different.

I realised quite quickly that, when I started judging a lot more fights, there'd be a clear conflict of interest if I wrote in the way I loved writing. It's not to say I still don't have opinions but there's a time and a place for voicing them and a certain fashion.

Fighters Only is a perfect avenue for me to write about video gaming and other such things because of the angles I can take.

The 29th show this year was Cage Warriors 51 in Dublin on New Year's Eve. The last Dublin show was pretty nuts for several different reasons.

Fights were insane, venue was awesome but the crowd were some of the most passionate mma fans that I've seen for a very long time. Conor McGregor's sprint into the audience after he subbed Dave Hill was anarchy and I got another sense of that collective adrenaline from the moment the first bell rang for this show.

It was awesome to be back at the Helix and, after a day that involved watching War Games whilst falling asleep and eating Toblerone,  I was ready to judge some fights.

• No Thin Lizzy? Really? I thought that was a law? I thought that, if you put on an mma show in Ireland, they did a draw backstage if nobody was planning to walk out to Thin Lizzy. 
• You can't beat a bit of screaming Scandi metalcore to truly confuse an Irish crowd. 
• Another flawless night from the men in charge inside the cage. Take a bow Messrs Mitchell, and Goddard. Consistently high level refereeing has been a hallmark of the show this year.

Take Care
Ben

Cage Warriors 50 - Landmine

I'm not running out of games.

I'll never run out of games.

This month's been a great one for gaming to be honest. Sony finally pulled their fingers out and put Castlevania: Symphony of the Night on the PSN and I won auctions on Sunset Riders, Parodius and Megaman X for my SNES.

It's good, it's always been good.

I've also ordered a few shirts from Meatbun.us as well. Insert Coin is cool in places but is quickly becoming a bit redundant somehow. That being said I rocked a Viva King shirt this past weekend.

This Saturday I worked my 11th Cage Warriors show this year and it began, as they all do, with a voyage.

Myself and Lethaby hopped on the 9:17 train from Stoke station and, after a quick change in Crewe, settled in for the 250 mile voyage with my Blackberry playbook and a boat load of mid 2000's mma to watch.

I had all kinds of Pride on there but it was Cage Rage that inevitably drew my attention somehow. It was cool looking back at that era where I was such a fan and seeing all the people I regularly chat to at shows now. I even saw a young looking Marc Goddard walking out with Ross Mason.

Dave's opening tack of "Hello Marc, I saw you on an old Cage Rage show on the trip here; you looked about half the size," didn't go as well as he thought it would in his head I imagine but that's another story.

The trip was really relaxing and a nice contrast to the usual marathon drives I've become so used to. I watched as the bustling countryside eventually became a snowy wilderness as we moved towards the highlands. As the train pulled into the final station before Glasgow I became more aware of the people outside, enthralled in the truly everyday.

For a brief few minutes I felt the most overwhelming sense of the Debord as I sat in the perfectly contained warmth and watched society tick over in front of my eyes. I couldn't have stopped anything from happening or purveyed my sense of attachment to these people running up and down and making decisions. It was empowering a funny kind of way. It's kind of romantic to watch the world go by from a safe place and, as much as I was aware of the way in which this spectacle mirrored most of our waking minutes, it filled me with many questions.

There's always many questions. Before I could ask any of them though, the train pulled into Glasgow Station and we went out for a wander before the show. On arriving in city centre, Dave and I grabbed an all you can eat Indian Buffet for 6 quid each, when in Rome and all that, and then made our way to the venue. It's nice to roll into a strange place and see familiar faces. Everything seems fine at that point. I was ready to judge some truly amazing scraps and I wasn't disappointed.

Take Care
Ben

That night we'll never re-live

I think I need to stop writing these at work. You can't see what this office looks like but believe me it's hardly Club Tropicana.

Imagine the set of a terrible sitcom set in the 1970's featuring a load of belligerent and disgruntled factory workers and their out of touch boss. The walls are white woodchip and the shelves are full of nonsense.

I share it with a gentleman called Matt Spooner. He, like myself, is a cynical Samaritan.

We both want to help people but, in the modern workplace, that really isn't enough anymore. It's about ticking boxes and jumping through hoops to ensure that people I'll never meet make more money than I'll ever see in a lifetime.

I think that's the problem with teaching in this kind of training provider context.

Everything is done to make money, not to help people out. I'm pretty sure that my cynical side has flourished more in two years here than it did during six years teaching young offenders.

Anyhow what's the point of this one?

There isn't a point I don't think. Writing just stops me thinking. I think that's why I'm doing it. I've not got a point or a message but sometimes I wonder if there always has to be one.

When I first started writing I would ponder for hours over drafts of different text. I'm not saying I don't edit things now but I often find that when I switch off a little bit that the best stuff happens. It's hard to define best . I think I mean writing that's a more accurate reflection of where I currently am.

It's Friday and

As I was writing this my boss walked in and gave me something menial to do so I look busy. It's the inference that I'm somehow mutinous that I resent the most I think.

Anyhow I digress.

I hope you people have a great weekend.
Thanks for taking the time
Speak soon
Take Care
Ben