Archive | December, 2011

My name is Marcel and I’m partially a shell…

30 Dec

…but I also have shoes and a face. I like that about myself.




Now don’t you feel better?


Imaginary Isle

28 Dec

Many a person has cast doubt on the existence of the Mother Land, God’s Own Land, the Land of the Sea, the Home of the Wheel, the Country of Wise Men or, as the news more commonly refers to it That Tax Haven In The Middle of The Irish Sea. For those less intelligent than the rest of us, I am of course referring to The Isle of Man, or in Manx Gaelic, Ellan Vannin.

The Isle of Man has many claims to fame. It is of course the island that gave birth to Newcastle University’s Rabid PhD Prehistorian. It is also an island famous for its love of ‘playing by the rules’, an island so keen to play by the rules that to call it a tax haven is now to ‘mis-speak’, the island is a lower tax area. Not a haven, no sirree: no space for tax dodger or avoiders to shelter from storms here. It is also famously the home of Chris Fowler’s fictional novel on the Neolithic: ‘On discourse and materiality: a doctoral thesis’. Home to Sir Norman Wisdom, the TT races, the S100 races, the Manx GP, the Parish Walk, the Dirty South Treasure Hunt, the biggest waterwheel on the planet, numerous Viking Boat burials (sans that annoying dude with the 90s hair that you get with the Scottish one), that dwarf fella from LOTR, Fletcher Christian (from that there Mutiny on the Bounty), The BeeGees, TV chef Kevin Woodford and of course actual genuine Manx Hero and Legend, the best MANX cyclist to ever have lived and the Greatest Sprinter on the ┬áplanet: Mark Cavendish. These are but a smattering of the many claims to fame that grace the blessed isle.

Many of you though will have some kind of misguided view of life on the Isle. You imagine that one reaches the Isle of Man by smoking a lot of weed, or imagining yourself there, or riding on the back of a unicorn. You also imagine that we all (7 of us) dress in sack cloth and heard Manx Cats and Loughtan sheep. That we live a simple life, that our childhoods were blessed with beaches and fields and ‘playing out’ and that the low, low crime rate ( makes it the safest place to live in the British Isles, a place where no one locks their car or their house no matter how much stuff is inside.

However there is a dark underbelly to Mann: I grew up in the hood.


Time Wasted from PhD: None, it is Christmas.

Iron Maiden Monday: Wasted Years

5 Dec

Guys, howay man! No posts since this time last week?!