Dedication's what you need

When I was at primary school, there was a TV show called Record Breakers, which showcased people breaking world records, and had a very catchy theme tune that everyone in Britain still knows. Dedication, dedication, dedication, that's what you need. If you wanna be the best, if you wanna beat the rest, woh-oh-oh, dedication's what you need. And if you slightly change the words to 'defecation', it's hilarious, because defecation means poo.

Actually, that doesn't seem to be quite so funny now I'm not seven years old. Strange. Anyway, the point of all this is that the new 2014 edition of the Guinness Book Of Records came out yesterday. And, having shunned memory-related records for many years in favour of attaching clothes-pegs to your face and being fat, there's a whole two pages of mind-themed records this year!

The whole page is festooned with photos, of me, Naofumi Ogasawara, Simon Reinhard, Melik Duyar, Priyanshi Somani, Johannes Mallow, Boris Konrad, Freddis Reyes Hernandez and some guy I've never heard of called Dr Amit Garg! We all owe a huge debt of thanks to whoever persuaded the Guinness people to include us all in the book - I suspect Melik, he's good at that kind of thing (and the Memoriad gets a lot of plugs), but he hasn't taken the credit for it. There are lots of other fun records too, and not just on those two pages. Go out and buy the book, it's only £10 at W H Smith!

I'm credited with the record for 30-minute cards, a little strangely (hour cards is, to my mind, the cooler marathon cards record). As the book correctly points out, I did it at the Derby Memory Championship, back in 2008, and I see that the other records that made the book were done at things like the German championship - competitions that are only tenuously connected to the World Memory Sports Council. The World Memory Championship goes unmentioned. It's all politics, but who cares? I'm in the book! And that photo of me, taken in 2004, has never looked cooler!

Bah, work tomorrow

Well, Weird Internet Friend #2 is safely on his way back to America, hopefully (I left him in the capable hands of Another Weird Internet Friend yesterday after some London sightseeing), and now I feel like I need a holiday to rest after my holiday. It's been a bit hectic. Also, my washing machine is broken. It's a hard life.

Can people levitate?

I should have mentioned last night that the Kölner Dom is a really beautiful building. I went along to see it this morning, seeing as it's right next to my hotel, and I really was impressed. Also impressive was the man levitating outside it, but the other passers-by didn't really pay much attention to him, so I assume they've seen it all before.

Anyway, I'm at Frankfurt Airport as I write this, on my way home again. It's a busy life, being an international jetsetter. I've missed this, these last few months.

I always assumed the Dom was dome-shaped

This hotel I'm staying in in Köln really isn't very Handy if you haven't got a mobile phone. To check in, you have to call a phone number, and then they tell you the combination for the miniature safe that your key is in. It's strange, as is the desert theme (it's the Sandmanns Hotel) and peculiar decorations all around the place.

Still, I've had fun on this very brief trip to Germany - I haven't been to this country for much too long, so even if I'm only here for barely 24 hours, it's been fun. The TV people even let me try to speak German a little bit, which people in Germany usually never do. It's no wonder nobody in Britain speaks the language, everyone over here always speaks English to us without giving us a chance to learn it!

So, I get the train back to the airport tomorrow morning, but that at least gives me a chance to watch some cartoons before I leave, and maybe even look in a couple of shops, if I'm quick!

Holidays

Okay, Weird Internet Friend #2 is safely installed here, although he got detained at immigration presumably because they thought he was some kind of weird internet person. Now I can turn my attention to going to Germany and looking forward to the TV spectacular they're putting together in a month or two. I don't think I'm supposed to talk about the details yet, but I assure you it'll be awesome!

I'm flying out tomorrow, and back on Wednesday, so I've just gone through my drawer-of-assorted-rubbish to see how many Euros I've got kicking around. About €22.50, in fact, almost all of it in €2 coins. I need to spend coins rather than notes when I'm on the continent, obviously.

We are the champions, my friend

See, there are two "championships" at the UK Memory Championships - one just for British people, and one for foreigners. Or rather, as far as the actual competitors are concerned, there's only one championship, the UK Open, but by virtue of Jonas coming from Sweden, I got the big trophy and (technically) the prestigious title of UK Memory Champion, even though he was about a million times better than me. I'm not going to put it on my business cards.

Actually, day two went rather better than day one - following the same strategy as I'd used in the 30-minute numbers, I aimed for much lower scores than I normally would, and got them all right without much trouble. Twelve packs in 30-minute cards is perfectly acceptable really, 77 historic dates would have been mind-blowingly amazing ten years ago so I shouldn't feel bad about it, and so on. I did make a mess of spoken numbers, which I haven't practiced for a long time - I was only a fraction of a second slower than I would normally be, but that's time enough to lose track of the digits. But then in speed cards I recorded a time of 28.78 seconds in the first trial and was much closer to recalling it correctly than I thought I would be. So I went at about the same speed the second time, and got it right!

The time was officially recorded as 31.34 seconds, although that might not be as accurate as it usually is, since I apparently broke the timer when I put my hands down on it. It turned itself off, and didn't even save the time in its memory like the things are supposed to do. Luckily, David Sedgwick was watching the display screen at the moment it broke, and he assures us that the time he wrote down is correct, "within maybe a couple of hundredths of a second, anyway". I'm sure I didn't hit the thing particularly hard, although I know I do have a tendency to get overexcited and thump my hands down a bit. Luckily, the time could have been out by a minute or so and I would still have finished second overall, so it didn't matter much.

I didn't notice the problem until about a minute after it happened, incidentally - when I put the cards down and hit the timer, I immediately close my eyes and try to remember what the cards are. I don't open them again and peek around the room at the other competitors until I'm certain my mental images are going to stay in my brain and not disappear before the five minutes' memorisation time has finished.

Meanwhile, I hope you caught Jonas on BBC breakfast TV the following day. I didn't - no TV in the hall of residence, although to be fair it does have free wifi, and I could have watched it on my laptop. It didn't occur to me, mainly because I had a terrible hangover yesterday after only two pints of cider in the pub afterwards. It'll be the mental exertion, I haven't done a two-day memory competition for too many months.

Chris Day spent a lot of time talking to a journalist at the competition, which has resulted in the following in-depth analysis of memory techniques in this memory article:

Chris Day, from the World Memory Sports Council, said the techniques are useful to improve memory.

Mr Day said: "We all have potentially an amazing memory."


If that was the guy he was talking to when they saw me going down the stairs and felt that there was more of my backside on display than is decent (my lucky shirt has a large hole in the back, and my shorts are somewhat loose around the waist), then it's probably my fault.

Silence in the library

Upstairs in the Science Museum in London, there's a really cool-looking little library room, with double-decker bookcases (there's a sort of ledge half way up that you walk along to see the higher-up shelves, I don't know what the technical name is) and antique furnishings throughout. Although today and tomorrow it's got some modern tables and chairs and a stonking great computer screen set up, for the UK Memory Championship!

We've got a healthy mix of competitors from around Britain and the world, as usual - thirteen altogether, and that's not including the various other people who came along and had a go at one or more disciplines. Foremost among these were journalists from the Times and the Independent, who both tried their hand at 30-minute binary. Both attempted four rows, 120 digits, but while the Times man got them all correct, the Independent made mistakes on three rows, and so only got a score of 30. Make your own judgements about the relative merits of the two newspapers.

Incidentally, I could swear that I've met the man from the Times before. As my readers will know, I rarely remember faces, but his is familiar enough that I'm sure I've had an interview with him in the past. He talked as if he'd never met any of us, though, so maybe I'm wrong. Or maybe the article in tomorrow's paper will say "I went to the UK Memory Championship and nobody remembered me, even though I remembered them." Or maybe all reporters from the Times look the same (young, posh, floppy-haired...) and I spoke to another one of them.

My scores in everything were awful, as I confidently expected. I'm going to need to be careful not to end up with fewer points than James Paterson, and so avoid being not the best British competitor in a championship for the first time since (I think I'm right in saying this) 2004. It's so long since I did a half-hour discipline, in practice or in competition, I really made a mess of binary, and ended up with a score of 2000 or so, attempting 4500 or thereabouts. Abstract images followed a similar pattern, and I was already exhausted by the time we sat down to speed numbers. 30-minute numbers followed after that, and I decided to manage my expectations hugely, and just attempt 680 digits. I'd written them all down within 15 minutes of the recall time, so perhaps I was over-cautious, but I'm fairly sure that really was as much as I could do - my mind was wandering terribly, which is just what you can expect if you don't train for these events.

Incidentally, we know our scores for abstract images (first discipline after lunch) already, thanks to some unusually speedy and efficient marking from the team of arbiters. Kudos to Phil, Chris, David, Gaby, Nathalie, Dominic, Peter, whoever I've forgotten to list (there's always one) and whoever I don't even know is there (some arbiters always lurk in the back room and never come out to say hello to me). Phil's machine that beeps after a specified number of minutes seems to have died (which is very tragic; it's been coming to these competitions longer than I have), so disciplines were timed on a digital watch, but nothing's gone spectacularly wrong yet. Tony opened the competition with a lengthy speech that was mainly about royal jelly, which makes a change from the usual one and kept us all entertained, someone was buzzing around taking photos, several spectators came to see what was happening, science museum people were looking at us suspiciously, it's all the fun of a memory competition!

Jonas von Essen is clearly going to be the runaway winner, although he's producing the kind of scores that elite competitors do when they haven't got any real opposition. That, more than anything, is motivating me to do some more training and pose him a challenge at the World Championship! I copied his habit of taking his groovy shoes off, since my less groovy ones (which I nonetheless love, since they were bought for me by someone special) got soaked in the rain, and went around barefoot all afternoon. We're the Zola Budds of memory sports!

The British contingent are led by James Paterson, Wales's finest, who got the highest score at names & faces, although not quite as high as Phil announced - he accidentally read out James's competitor number, 170. The score printouts all have the competitor numbers on them, which is just confusing for everyone - I keep reading my name and thinking I only scored 29, which is bad for names and faces, but downright horrible for binary! There's also Ryan S Smith, who loves his middle initial enough that he added it onto his nameplate in red pen (we all get toblerone-shaped paper names to put on our desks, with the appropriate national flag and, of course, that competitor number again), Mike Outram and Phill Ash, all warmed up at the Friendly Championship and dipping their toes into two-day International Standard competition, and Jake O'Gorman, at his first competition and saying I'm the one who inspired him to compete. I always worry that I'm a sad disappointment to such people when they meet me in real life. "Who's this short, fat, bald oaf?" they no doubt say to themselves, "I thought Ben Pridmore would be a huge, mighty specimen of humanity, with a big deep booming voice and magic mind-powers of some kind, possibly involving telekinesis!"

International guests are Jonas; James's Russian student Sergey; Raj who spends so much time in England competing in memory competitions that he hardly counts as Indian any more; Søren from Denmark; Rick from Holland; Joona from Finland who was at the WMC last year but who for some reason I never got round to saying hello to; and a newcomer from Spain who I'm sure introduced himself to me as Javier, but is called Francisco on the scoresheets and nameplate (with different surnames on each). He might be a spy. Or I might just be bad at remembering names.

I'm on a train

Another thing I'm on is my way to London, and another is cloud nine, because I'm off work for the next week and a half, and I've been working much too much, for not nearly enough money, these last few months. The job, which I'm still enjoying a lot more than I should, was unfeasibly busy for the last month or so, but things have calmed down now and I can safely take time off without worrying that the world will come to an end. And I'll turn my attention to the important things I've been neglecting, like writing about memory on the internet and maybe even training in the use of those memory techniques I used to know about. It might be a little late to get in full match fitness for the UK Championship tomorrow morning, but you never know what I might accomplish between now and the World Championship in December, if it happens. There'll always be more memory competitions out there, anyway - a fun one in 2014, hopefully, that there'll be more news on soon...

Memorable stories

Last week, looking through my bookcases for something to read on the train to work, I grabbed Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King. And then grabbed my rucksack, since the book's too big to fit in my jacket pocket. But when I came to open the book, I realised I'd never actually read the fourth of the four medium-ish-length stories in it. I must have bought the book to read on a plane journey, and arrived at wherever I was going before I'd finished reading.

Either that, or the story (A Good Marriage) is just magically forgettable - today I found myself trying to remember what it was about, and couldn't think of even the slightest detail. The best I could do was a vague idea that it was about a husband and wife somehow. It's not actually a bad story at all, and I'll probably remember it now I've refreshed my memory, but then again maybe tomorrow I'll be oblivious again. Maybe I did read it on that plane journey, and several times again since then. Maybe I wrote it, and maybe I actually am Stephen King? You can never tell with memory.

Fantasy island, all I ever dreamed of

It's always great to have the football back after a long summer without, isn't it? And this season, in addition to enjoying the games and occasionally having a bet on the weekend's premier league matches (I never win, so this is a very, very occasionally kind of thing that I strictly limit to days when I've got quite a lot of spare money kicking around) I'm doing Fantasy Premier League, in competition with people from work.

Fantasy football has moved on since the days when I last did it. No longer do you just pick a list of names and check the newspaper on Monday to see how many points they've scored, now it's interactive with weekly transfers and the ability to pick what colour your virtual team's virtual socks should be. I worry that I could get addicted to it, and that then it'll be even more embarrassing when I come bottom of the league, as I inevitably will. Anyone else out there in zoomyland got a team?

Take a look at the kids on the street, no they never miss a beat

Even though the whole town of Beeston is in the process of being demolished to make way for the trams, it's actually really cool around here. For example, coming into the town centre today and picking my way through the rubble that used to be The Square, I heard the sound of drums coming from the marquee where they regularly have musical events. Actually, I thought to myself, that's really good drumming - the kind of sound made by someone who actually knows what they're doing, rather than someone who's just waving drumsticks around and hoping for the best. Then an equally good guitar chimed in, so I went over to check out what turned out to be Parasight - a really cool band composed of four teenagers, who you should definitely check out if you get the chance. The guitar playing when they did Sweet Child Of Mine was either a recording that they were miming to or genuinely that awesome, I couldn't quite decide. Someone who I assume was the lead singer's mum was singing along to the songs and handing out cards with the website address on, but only slightly diminishing their coolness; that's how cool they were.

Meanwhile, I need to be cleaning my flat up a bit. Or a lot. On Wednesday night I'm going down to London straight after work for the memory competition at the Science Museum, then staying there for the weekend. On Monday I'm meeting a friend who's flying in from America to stay for the week (I think a few years ago I referred to him in this blog as Weird Internet Friend #2, so that's his name for every subsequent mention on here, I'm afraid), then on Tuesday I'm abandoning him to his own devices and flying to Germany for a sort of pre-filming thing for a TV show that will be really totally and completely awesome if it does come about, later in the year. Back here on Wednesday, and not back to work until the Monday after - it's a busy life.

But it doesn't leave me much time to clear up the filth lying around this place, especially since I can't be bothered. Maybe I should hire a cleaner - there's a card in the post office window that really made me laugh. "Cleaning Work Wanted", it says, and follows it up with "I am from Thailand, where we were brought up to keep our homes clean and tidy." I assume the intention was to stress what a good cleaner she is because of her upbringing, but it really comes across as "you filthy English people don't know how to clean your houses, so let me do it for you." Assuming she'll work for free, since I've still got no money, I'll have to give her a call - I could do with a cleaner who'll also give me a stern lecture on how I wasn't brung up right.

The importance of blogging

Yes, I haven't posted anything here for a month, and I'm terribly sorry about that. But I just checked back in the old posts to see if I've stayed in Rosebery Hall student accommodation before, and it turns out I have, so I'm more convinced than ever of the importance of writing on the internet about everything I do.

I realise I could just keep a diary and not share it with everyone on the internet, but it's more fun this way.

So anyway, I'm going down to London at the end of the month for the UK Memory Championship! Yay! And staying in Rosebery Hall, since it seems to have satisfied me three years ago! I'm currently sort-of in training, in that I haven't done any real training for ages, but I'm doing a nightly Online Memory Challenge, at 8pm British Summer Time, so please come along and join me if you want a chat and a quick test of memory or two!

And I'll start blogging more frequently, just in case I need to refer back to it in future.

Win the ultimate sporting experience

Occasionally I see those competitions on ITV football where the prize is excessively huge - a month-long globe-trotting holiday to see the Champions League, Europa League, FA Cup finals and so forth, luxury hotels and spending money and everything. Well, it seems they do the same in Australia, and one person who won a massive extravagant holiday in England to watch the cricket this summer is Russell Bauer, the 2002 Australian Memory Champion! I've just met up with him while he's in Nottingham to watch the first test, and it's always great to meet another memoriser and find the similarities. I'm working on a theory that all the people with the best memories think David Tennant was awesome in Doctor Who...

Where the cool kids hang out

If you're interested in memory talk but hadn't heard the latest news, get over to Mnemotechnics.org, where I'm answering any question people want to ask about memory stuff. And also comparing the personality flaws of two different cartoon pterodactyls, even though nobody asked me to.

I will shortly be posting a full and graphic account of the 2003 World Memory Championship in Kuala Lumpur, so keep your eyes peeled!

Incidentally, while I'm on the subject of memory competitions, it's the UK Championship at the Science Museum in London on August 22-23, and if you like memory competitions but are too scared to take part, why not come and help out as an arbiter? Meet and hang out with new and interesting people and have a lot of fun! I recommend it!

The solution to everything

You've got to feel a bit sorry for David Ferrer. He's really awesome at tennis, but he doesn't get to be Spain's national hero because Rafael Nadal's that little bit better. And he's playing better than ever at the age of 31, but nobody really notices that because Roger Federer's eight months older and slightly better.

What he needs to do, clearly, is wear a stylish hat. Then he can be the world's best stylish-hat-wearing tennis player!

(Ferrer for the last few years has been consistently the world number 5 in tennis - I see him as a kindred spirit)

I'm not lazy, I've got a good excuse

Writer's block. Of a very psychological kind. See, I agreed to write memory-related things in return for money, and the idea seems to have horrified me so much that I've been completely unable to do anything even slightly like that ever since. But I'm determined to get over it, this weekend. I'll try getting drunk - I've been told that alcohol is the solution to all the world's problems.

It's a fine art

The Quad in Derby is launching a season on the theme of memory, and an exhibition of the works of William Kentridge. And seeing as I've got connections to Derby, memory and (tenuously) art, they asked me along to the opening night to recite the titles of all the artwork on display and try to impress people with the artistic way that people memorise things.

It was a lot of fun, too! And I met a hypnotist who's doing a talk on memory there next month, that I might go along to. Anything to help with the motivation to memorise things!

I'm inclined to blog about tonight in the form of contemporary art, rather than writing, but I'm too lazy. It would be a collage, superimposed on a page ripped out of my collection of Synapsia magazines, and would include a black cat, a joint of ham, a stopwatch and the panel from From Hell of Melville MacNaghten saying "Few too many art-wallahs for my taste".

What's my age again?

Someone I know was convinced that it was his 38th birthday the other day, until I pointed out that if he was born in 1976, same as me, that would mean he just turned 37.

Funnily enough, I've also really struggled for the last few months to remember that I'm 36 and not 37. The number 37 has always sort of rattled around my subconscious mind in a disturbing way, but since I'm currently re-reading Thief Of Time, by Terry Pratchett, on the train to work, I can't help suspecting that someone has stolen a year of everyone's lives, or just stuck time back together in the wrong way, so that I'm currently 37 but will turn 36 in October. If so, I think that's probably a great improvement.

Cartoon Time

I haven't talked about cartoons on here for a while, so I thought I should place on record that the best cartoons to come along in the last couple of years are Adventure Time and Regular Show.

Adventure Time has a tendency to make me really laugh out loud at times, and not many TV shows do that. Regular Show is downright brilliant in the scope of its imagination and silliness. Both of them should be watched by all my blog readers!

How to pass the time on the train to work

What's a good nickname for a man with a staggeringly 1980s hairstyle, sunglasses whatever the weather and a suede jacket with the sleeves rolled up? He's the boyfriend of Leather Tuscadero, but I don't really want to call him Fonzie...

Can't they pre-tape it?

Twice in a row, the Channel 4 continuity announcer has stumbled over his witty scripted lines. They need to either hire someone who can read from a piece of paper, or stop trying to be funny and go back to just saying "And now The Simpsons". I vote for the latter.

Yes, there are better things I could be doing on a Sunday afternoon, but I don't care.

World rankings

Rafael Nadal and David Ferrer are playing in the French Open final tomorrow. They're currently number 4 and 5 in the world ranking list, but irrespective of the result of tomorrow's game, Ferrer will move up above Nadal in the rankings. That's because tennis world rankings cover the last twelve months, and Nadal's win last year will drop out of the total points, so he can't increase his total score even if he wins, while Ferrer only got to the semi-final last year, so he's guaranteed to increase his total.

Is this a good system? Actually, I think it is pretty good, and any kind of silliness like that is just of academic interest - Nadal will zoom back up to first or second later this year anyway, when he plays in the tournaments he missed through injury in 2012. The really interesting part is that tennis rankings give you a certain number of points in each tournament, depending which round you reach. This I think is less of a good system - if you're a lower-ranking player and you get drawn against the likes of Nadal in the first round, you'll score less points than some other lower-ranking player who gets a lucky draw and gets through to the third or fourth round without playing anyone really good. I'm sure it evens out, but there does seem to be quite a lot of random chance involved.

Or maybe I'm just prejudiced because othello has a cooler system. Your ranking points (there isn't a universally-accepted world ranking, though the one on the French website has gained a lot of support these past few years; the one that British people care about is the British rankings) go up and down depending on the ranking points total of the individual players you win or lose against. Othello doesn't have knockout tournaments, so we couldn't use the tennis-style rankings even if we wanted to, but nothing's stopping tennis from adopting othello-style rankings. Maybe they should.

And othello doesn't claim to have invented that system, I just like to talk in terms of the things I like. Just in case anyone was wondering.

Memory sports, of course, has a different kind of thing altogether. You get a certain amount of points in a competition, and your world ranking score is the highest you've ever achieved in a competition. Even if your best score was donkey's years ago. That's an okay system too, but I'd like to see something based on people's best scores in individual disciplines - perhaps two different ranking lists, in fact - one based on just scores achieved at the world championship, another based on all the disciplines from all the different types of competition. Maybe I'll work these alternatives out and see if there's any way to make my "official world ranking" (another thing about memory competitions is that people freely use the word "official" to describe anything they want) higher than fifth-best in the world!

Social commentary

According to my stats page, Dai's number-themed comment on yesterday's blog post was the 3000th comment published on this blog!

I don't think that's enough, really. Throw me some more comments, people! Get a discussion going in that hidden secret little bit that you get to by clicking at the bottom of my ramblings!

11:11

You know that thing people say, that they only ever look at a clock when it's 11:11? All very psychological. Well, the headlines on the Yahoo news summary that you get when you log in to Yahoo mail, whether you want to or not, have:

Teachers: 11 Not Banned Despite 'Misconduct'

Isle Of Man TT Race Crash: 11 Spectators Hurt

Cyber disputes loom large as Obama meets China's Xi


Not that I paid particular attention to them, but the third one made me stop and think "Obama meets China's Eleven"? What, are they playing cricket or something? It took me ages to readjust my brain into reading "Xi" instead of "XI", all because of those rogue elevens just up above. It's all very psychological.

Legalities

I like overhearing snatches of conversation from people on the street and then speculating on what they might be talking about. I just cycled past a gang of youths as one of them was saying, authoritatively if perhaps slightly drunkenly, "The only way you could be done for attempted murder is if he actually dies..."

I'm not a legal expert, but I'm pretty sure it's usually the other way round. But even so, have I overheard discussion of an actual murder attempt, or a joke? You can usually tell from the tone of voice, but this one really could have gone either way...

The story so far

If you want to keep up with what's happening in the big wild world of memory competitions, you really need to be reading Johann Randall Abrina's blog! Just to look at that summary of all the competitions so far this year fills an old-timer like me with a warm glow of satisfaction - when I started out, there were three or four competitions a year, at the very most, in the whole world! Now even a backwater of modern memory like the British Isles has that many itself, and the cool countries are all running their own competitions all over the place too!

I think the 'big' competition before the world championships is still the German Memory Open, buried though it is in such a busy summer calendar, but don't forget the UK Memory Championship a month later (that link isn't a website of its own, just a note that it's going to happen, but it really is definitely going to happen, and worth going to!)

Or take your pick from any other event on the calendar - that's Mnemotechnics.org, which keeps a good and accurate list of what's happening. There will be a World Memory Championship too, most likely, but they're adopting the successful technique from last year of not revealing any details and then having to retract it when they change. So I don't need to warn anyone not to book their plane tickets, unless they're the kind of person who just guesses the date and location of a memory championship, buys a first class ticket and hopes for the best. And if they are, they probably wouldn't listen to me.

We haven't moonwalked with horses for a while

The following statements were collected by the police:

GUSTAF BOGGINS, HORSE POLISHER: "So there I were, out on the street, washing me 'orse wi' soap an' water before I gives 'im the polish, when round the corner comes this bloke what weren't wearin' no busters [trousers] and I faints clean away in the gutter."

LORD VALIANT, OWNER OF HORSE: "I went into the street to remind the horse polisher to pay particular attention to the tail area, when I suddenly saw him gasp, point and collapse. I looked in the indicated direction and saw a man looking for all the world like Vocator [legendary figure who wore trousers] before he first donned the garment that made him famous. On closer inspection, I saw that he was whirling his Vocator's Article [trousers] about his head in a mad manner. I hastened back inside, fearing the social ruination that would come from being seen in the proximity of such a man, and so didn't see where he went."

VIC BANDYSHAW, HORSE POLISHER'S SUPERVISOR: "I was just checkin' up on Gustaf on account of that toffee-nosed twerp what owns the horse being so particular about its bum being polished good, when here comes this bloke waving 'is Blandford Forums [trousers] in the air instead of putting 'em on his legs like normal folks do. So I shouts 'Hoy, Parcruxis [foe of Vocator and thus by extension a derisory term for anyone opposed to trousers, although the legendary Parcruxis did in fact wear trousers himself], put yer Blandfords [trousers] back on and stop botherin' my 'orse polisher!' But he didn't pay no attention to me, so I just goes and picks Gustaf up out of the gutter, on account of he's sensitive about these things and he'd gone and fainted, so I didn't see what 'appened to old Parcruxis."

DAME DORIS GURDY, GENTLEWOMAN: "I happened to glance out of my window, and what should I see but a pair of overlegs [trousers] being brandished in a most alarming manner. I would have watched further, but I noticed Lord Valiant in the vicinity and hurried away to telephone all our social acquaintances. Now he won't be able to enter a room in decent society without being greeted with 'Good morning, Doctor Overlegs [trousers]!' That's the end of him, socially speaking! So no, I didn't pay any more attention to Mister Lacking-In-Noncontrivances [trousers, but only when the word is used, as in this case, in a negative construction; otherwise it means baked beans] and can't tell you any more."

"BROWN HAROLD", HORSE: "Neigh, whinney, neigh-neigh, hrrumph [trousers], whinney, neiiiiiiiigh."

Spare change?

Okay, here's the thing. For people who haven't been following my life in full detail (which I suppose I can forgive, since I haven't been blogging about it very much, so you would have had to be using some kind of spy satellites and phone-tapping), I've been only sporadically working for the last two years, rather beyond the limits of the time I intended to take off full-time good-money-earning accountancy-cum-financial-analysis, and for want of being able to land a permanent job in that field, I'm currently working in a lower-level admin job. Which, to my surprise, I'm really completely loving and want to do forever, if not for the teensy problem that it doesn't quite pay enough money to cover the costs of the various debts I've racked up.

So, basically, I find myself needing an influx of cash, to pay life's unavoidable bills and not end up out on the streets. So if anyone could throw a little into my begging bowl, which is a Paypal account using my email address, which is zoom_zoom_ben and it's at yahoo.co.uk, I'd really really appreciate it. Any money received will be considered a loan, to be paid back with interest and gratitude as and when my ship comes in. Regular readers will know that my ship does come in, fairly regularly, every now and then, whenever people see fit to give me money for being good at remembering things. And that there really are people out there who still pay big salaries for people who are good with Excel spreadsheets (though I think their numbers are diminishing - big bosses know how to turn on a computer nowadays, which is bad news for the financial analysts of the world).

I do have one memory gig coming up next week, at an art exhibition. Maybe that's a good way to shmooze with modern art people, who always like to pay me to do things. I really need to make more of an effort to make money in these last dying seconds of my fifteen minutes of fame.

Anyway, in summary - money, please? Paypal? zoom_zoom_ben? yahoo.co.uk? Cheques also accepted? Undying gratitude will be forthcoming?

What's the point of toes, anyway?

They don't really do anything, even if they're freakishly long like mine, and they really hurt if you somehow open the bathroom door over your big toe in the morning. And since I was in a hurry to get ready for work, I just put my sock on over it, and my shoe basically filled with blood over the course of the day. Really, it's a terrible wound, and it hurts a lot, so I'm quite entitled to whine about it.

D-d d-d d-d d, Turnabout!

Watching the tennis on Eurosport (which is better than watching it on ITV, even though they show exactly the same footage at exactly the same time, because on my telly at least Eurosport fits slightly more of the picture onto the screen, so you can actually see the score box rather than it being pushed off the left-hand side) always makes me think of Turnabout, the really great daytime quiz show of the early nineties, hosted by Rob Curling, who's now found gainful employment as Eurosport's tennis presenter. During school holidays or other idle time like study leave for GCSEs and A-levels, Turnabout was very much a highlight of the day! There was no Eurosport or anything like that back then, remember, just four channels, and very little to distract you from your revision on any of them. If not for Turnabout, I might even have had to do some work and pass my exams! So we've all got a lot to be thankful to Rob Curling for.

It's not just mobile phones

Really, it's any kind of modern technology. I mean, I hear there's some kind of new X-Box or Playstation or something that's just come out, that allows the government to spy on you, or something (or maybe it's just that it's not compatible with some other kind of X-Box or Playstation, but I hear a lot of people complaining, anyway) that I know not even the most basic thing about. Perhaps I should try to learn about these things, but I think I'll stick with playing Bubble Bobble on my Master System. It's a lot more fun than these modern games, according to my limited understanding of them.

I haven't got a microwave, either.

I've got a mobile phone!

Well, it's Dai's, he left it here by mistake, and the battery's flat. I think the main thing preventing me from getting a mobile now, apart from that I've got no money, is that I'd have to learn how to use one. It's a bit embarrassing, really. If I ask anyone for instructions, they'll think I'm some kind of unbelievably ignorant eejit. Which I am, but people don't have to know about it.

Rain, rain, go away

What's with the weather? We had a beautiful, hot, sunny bank holiday weekend, and then it went back to cold and rainy and horrible when we go back to work! How are we supposed to complain about the weather if it does things that we want it to do?

All friends together

The Friendly Memory Championship 2013 was a great and friendly success! For one thing, the weather was lovely and sunny after a pretty miserable, cold and rainy week - it always seems to improve when I hold an event at Attenborough Nature Reserve, I should do it more often and fix the whole British-weather problem overnight.

On Saturday people started arriving in Beeston or Attenborough, and we got together in the evening at the Victoria pub down the road, which I heartily recommended but turned out to be having a bad day, and took absolutely ages to bring us our food - but still, a good time was had by all. Dai Griffiths had brought along newcomer-to-the-memory-world Peter Broomhall, as well as a whole lot of pot noodles (I'm still not sure exactly why), to stay at my place and act as arbiters in the competition, and competitor Ryan Smith was crashing here too - I'm always impressed by how amicably memory people settle the question of who gets my spare bed and who gets my very small and uncomfortable sofa.

So to the competition day on Sunday! We arrived at the nature centre's conference room just a bit after nine, thanks to a lost debit card along the way (don't worry, it turned up in Ryan's bag) and greeted the gang of competitors who'd travelled from all over the world, mostly Scandinavia, to be there. We had Jonas von Essen from Sweden, Ola Kåre Risa from Norway and Søren Damtoft from Denmark, for a complete set of nordic languages represented; Takeru Aoki all the way from Japan, just for this competition (how awesome is that?); and Hein van Heck all the way from, well, Wales, but he's Dutch, so it counts as international.

We also had a whole gang of English competitors, all except Ryan being new to memory competitions this year - Darren Ferguson, Phil Peskett and Mike Outram who made their debuts in Wales, and Robert Frost and Phill Ash appearing for the first time here (Phill's appearance was a bit delayed, he turned up late and joined the fun after lunch, but it still counts). Hopefully we're genuinely starting to build up a crowd of regular British memory competitors now, because I'd been worried we were going to become extinct altogether. Completing the set was Darren's wife Claire, joining the team of arbiters.

I'd been very worried about the arbiting, since Phil Chambers couldn't come and he's usually so instrumental in making things work, but everything ran smoothly all day, thanks to our team. We were still able to keep the Friendly Championship tradition of marking papers and announcing results quickly and accurately, even with the need to triple-check a couple of particularly impressive results. The only glaring error came with the spoken numbers, when I'd managed to save a 400-digit collection with the 100-digit filename, and so played too many numbers before we realised what was wrong. It didn't seem to disturb the leading contenders too much, though...

The first of those particularly impressive results came in the second discipline, 5-minute binary, when Ola produced a phenomenal score of 1016! New world record, which he had obviously been working hard on ever since at the Italian championship this year he beat the existing record only to have it simultaneously beaten at the same time by two even better scores. Our other world record came from Jonas in the spoken numbers, with a completely awesome 318! Scores in spoken numbers are just skyrocketing lately, I don't know why that is.

For both of our Scandinavian superbrains, that was their first world record - breaking the German/Chinese domination of the world record list up a little! Ola's record gave him the lead in the competition which he narrowly held until the spoken numbers, when Jonas moved back ahead and eventually won, with both of them getting a safe but still impressive time of just over 45 seconds in the speed cards. Takeru and Søren fought it out for third, with Takeru ending up on top, Hein came fifth and the battle of the English was won by Phil, with Robert pushing him close all the way.

After the competition and the traditional drink in the pub down the road, a gang of us came back to my place to eat pot noodles and watch The Mentalists, which Dai had brought with him on DVD. During the day I'd been wearing my Memory Man costume, including the black turtleneck, and then changed into my Yellow Submarine T-shirt, so it was funny to see myself modelling both of those on the documentary from six years ago - possibly I need to buy new clothes more often. Still good to see that impressive capturing of the 2007 memory world, though the pot noodles didn't go down too well with our foreign guests. I think you have to be British to appreciate them.

The scores can all be seen here - Jonas's win moves him to fourth place on the world ranking list, displacing me down to fifth, and Ola climbs to number seven! But I'm sure our new team of English superstars-in-the-making will be up in the top ten in no time.

In the evening, Jonas and Ola asked me what my first world record was, and I couldn't really remember. There was the poem world record that didn't really count, in the MSO competition 2001 (it was a much more memorable poem than the rules dictated it should be), and I suppose that had already got me excited enough that when I did break an official record (historic dates, world championship 2003) it got swallowed up in the general excitement of doing so well in the world championship overall. Or maybe it did mean more to me, and I've just forgotten over the last ten years - I do remember taking some pride in listing the world records and seeing my name on the list alongside the real greats. I'm getting old...

Okay, I think we're all set

All I need to do is clear a few piles of rubbish out of my living room, and I'm ready for people to come round for the weekend's memorising!

Hold off! Unhand me, grey-beard loon!

I have an increasing number of white hairs in the moustache and goatee bit of my beard that have resisted the all-over whitening of the rest of my facial hair so far. I fondly remember, not ten years ago, pulling out the couple of white hairs in my otherwise uniformly dark brown/black beard, to make sure it looked good on some special occasion. Now I'm pretty sure it'll only be a few more years before I can fulfil my ambition to grow a big bushy Santa beard in time for Christmas. Which is wonderful, but on the other hand TV adverts keep telling me that all men want to cure their baldness and disguise their white hairs, so perhaps I'm just not right in the head.

Not your biggest fan, but maybe your medium-sizedest

I don't recall mentioning it for a while, but I really love Stephen King's books from around the mid-90s to the mid-00s. I don't really get on with his earliest stuff, or the more recent ones, but in that era, he really strikes a chord with me. Situations like this always make me wonder what I would say if I met someone like that - "I really love certain of your works"? "Aside from those books that I don't particularly like, I greatly admire your writings"? Not that the situation's likely to arise, but I think it's important to be prepared for this kind of thing with some sort of snappy phrase.

Actually, I always hope that when I meet someone super-famous and awesome, they'll have heard of me. Never happened yet...

World Wide

Hello to the person, people or robot in Antigua and/or Barbuda who's given this blog 41 pageviews in the last 24 hours. I do love the stats page, but I wish there was a way to tell which visitors are evil mechanoids and which are people with a genuine interest in vague and largely meaningless drivel about memory competitions. It would just be nice to know just how many people stumble across this page searching for drivel, that's all.

Anyway, while I'm rambling, let me confess that I've very much let the memory training slide for the last couple of months, after being all enthusiastic about it earlier in the year. Maybe the people at the Friendly competition this weekend can encourage me to get back into it? It would probably help if you all jeer at me for not being able to remember things.

Friendly factoids

Sunday's competition will be the eighth Friendly/Cambridge Memory Championship! Interestingly, nobody has ever won the competition twice. This goes hand-in-hand with the other interesting fact that nobody who has won the championship has ever come back to it, ever. That's... kind of worrying, isn't it? Do I not applaud the winner enough? Well, Jonas von Essen is hopefully going to buck that trend and come back to defend his title this year, so maybe there'll be a new page in the history books...

Here's a memory memory that occurs to me - At the first Cambridge championship in 2006, one of the names in the Names & Faces discipline was the wonderfully evocative surname “Catchpole”. One of the German competitors remembered it as “Polegrab”, while one of the English memorisers (who didn’t have such a good excuse; it’s not that uncommon a name in England), rendered it as “Grabpole”.

It’s a natural mistake to make - poles, as a rule, don’t move, so if you picture someone ‘catching’ one, it will usually be a mental image of a hand grabbing a stationary pole. And when you come to translate it back from pictures into words, ‘grab pole’ is what will come to mind...

A Ba Ni Bi

I don't watch the Eurovision Song Contest. And I mean that in the way that some people say they don't smoke, because they only have three or four cigarettes a day, ten at most. As usual this year, I saw that it was on, decided I wasn't going to bother watching it, sort of left it on in the background while not actually watching it as such, and saw the whole thing.

The songs were pretty uniformly awful, as usual, but there's always one that I like, and that usually finishes somewhere low down in the top half - this year it was Hungary, with the very catchy "Kedvesem", by ByeAlex. I'd vote for it, if I watched Eurovision.

Rusty

See, I'm so unused to regular blogging, I forgot to mention a whole lot of things I was meaning to. So here's a bonus second post tonight!

I think I've given myself repetitive strain injury, flipping discs. My right thumb is sort of sore.

Also, just worked it out - if I hadn't beaten Imre in our game at Cambridge, he would have won the BGP, despite only coming to two of the three regionals, so that is actually quite cool and makes me feel that the great honour is much more deserved!

Tomorrow, I need to finish printing things out for the Friendly Memory Championship next Sunday! Yes, I've been ultra-organised this year, and have split Printing Things Out Weekend into two semi-weekends, to fit around my schedule! If only my organisation skills extended to having the faintest idea who's coming to the competition and who's staying at my flat, I'd be confident that everything will go just swimmingly...

Oad-thello

See, it was realising my last proper post was about one othello tournament and that I was going to another today, that made me resolve to get back to blogging more regularly. Oadby, traditional home of the first regional of the year, every March, proudly hosted the last regional in 2013's abridged schedule in the middle of May!

It was basically the same lineup of players as in Cambridge - the shortage of people who want to play in these tournaments is a factor in there only being three regionals this year, but we are firmly planning to be back to five or six for 2014. The difference between Cambridge and Oadby was Steve Rowe instead of David, and instead of Adelaide joining us for lunch, there was Jeremy Das joining us for the afternoon. But we stuck with the same format - a round-robin of 20-minute games and then a double round-robin of 5-minuters.

The results were roughly the same, too, except that I didn't beat Imre, meaning that he won the tournament outright, with Iain second. I was third, which means that I'm officially the winner of the British Grand Prix! This is the thing where you get points based on how well you do in each regional, and the overall winner is the BGP champion. The traditional way to win it is to be the one who attends all the regionals in the year, and I successfully carried out this clever strategy this time round (we only had three, and they happened to all be within cheapish travelling distance) to win my first ever BGP title! I'm so proud. That means that I get the George Greaves Memorial Trophy! It cost a whole twenty pounds, so it's a great honour to have on your metaphorical mantlepiece!

I know how much it cost because I'm the treasurer of the British Othello Federation. I never know how much money has been spent on trophies at memory competitions, and I'm always a bit curious. They range from little glass things of the type that can be bought for a fiver on the market, to really big heavy metal things that look like they genuinely cost a packet.

Anyway, my perfect-attendance prize technically qualifies me for the World Othello Championship in Stockholm in October. I'd really like to go, but I can't really foresee having enough money to do that. Barring a lottery win or a surprisingly lucrative memory-themed job, anyway. It's at times like this that I always regret quitting my job and living a life of idle vacuity for months on end, but I'm sure I'll do it again the next time I've built up enough of a stash of money to afford it...

Resolution

You know what? I'm going to start blogging on a daily basis again. And every post will be crackling with wit and effervescent with interesting stuff. Starting tomorrow!

From white to black... then flip them back!

Othello in the spiritual home of the game (in Britain, at least), Cambridge! Having bought extra-cheap advance tickets (the ones that are only valid on the specific trains they're booked for), I was a little worried when I got to Loughborough in the early hours of the morning to hear an announcement that the train down to Ely had been cancelled. Luckily, a porter (or whatever you call the people who work at train stations) came hurrying over to the platform, waving his hands and assuring everyone that the train hadn't been cancelled, it was just the computer that controls announcements had misunderstood the situation. What had actually happened was that the train was redirected - rather than going through places like Oakham and Stamford, it had to go back to Nottingham and then down the other line to Peterborough, avoiding whatever emergency had closed down the line it was supposed to be running on. So it was only cancelled for people who wanted to go to places like Oakham and Stamford, and frankly, I went to Stamford once, and it's really really boring.

So I got to Cambridge no more than fifteen minutes later than I was supposed to, still with plenty of time to walk from the station to the city centre (a walk that takes nearly half an hour - the train station at Cambridge, as well as being impossible to travel to directly from anywhere, is situated a long way from Cambridge proper; legend has it that they planned it that way deliberately, to keep the riff-raff away from the nice place) before the advertised start time of 9:30.

The competition was in the traditional and awesome surroundings of the Junior Parlour of Trinity College, scenic views from the window, right next to the city centre, usually a musician or two outside on the street (it was a violinist today), and there were six of us playing - me, Imre, David Beck, Iain, Roy and Marie - plus Adelaide joining us for lunch. I was worried about finishing in time for my advance-ticket-mandated 17:12 departure, but as it turned out we had more than enough time for a round-robin of 20-minute games followed by a double round-robin of 5-minute ones, a good pub lunch incorporating a British Othello Federation committee meeting and a leisurely stroll back to the middle of nowhere to get to the train station!

Iain won the main tournament on tie-break from Imre, whose sole loss was against me - I've mentioned a few times before that I always somehow beat him, and today's game was a fine example that prompted me to ask "What happened there? I was completely dead, and then suddenly I realised that I was going to win!" Analysing it on the all-knowing computer program WZebra, it's quite fascinating, and I might blog about it at greater length this long weekend. I was well and truly trounced by David and Iain, though. Imre won the five-minute tournament with 8½ out of 10, and I could only manage four wins - it's been a long time since my last speed-othelloing at the MSO, however many years ago.

All in all, a fun day out, and now I've got a normal two-day weekend (albeit with the shops closing early) before I have to go back to work again!

Zoomy of days gone by

Ace has kindly posted pictures of the great York get-together of 2001 on Facebook, and it provokes many thoughts within my brain. Firstly, that I would probably die if I tried to spend three solid days drinking so much booze now, at my age. Secondly, that I really didn't look good back then. Especially when wearing that polka-dot shirt that I thought was cool, but even allowing for that, there's no escaping the fact that that was during the period of my life when I didn't realise I was bald.

This may take some explaining. I knew I was baldING, and had been for years, but my mental image of myself was of someone with a reasonably nice head of hair still, whose receding hairline wouldn't really be noticed by the casual observer, especially if I was wearing my hat. It wasn't until late 2002/early 2003 that I thought to myself on looking in the mirror "Wow, I'm really properly bald! When did that happen?"

So looking at those pictures and seeing myself properly slap-headed in 2001 is a bit of a shock. It really brings home the depths of self-delusion I was under in those days. Hey, I was 24, and such reckless youths are allowed a bit of self-delusion, right? Plus that was during my particularly fat phase, and when I wore big round glasses that I thought made me look eccentric and cool... I'm quite grotesquely nerdy-looking in those pictures, as opposed to the "ultimate nerd who all the other nerds look up to" style that I totally pull off nowadays.

It's probably a good thing that I'm so happy with my appearance now. How many other people can look back on their early-twenties selves and say "Yep, I look a whole lot better now!"

Anyway, I'm going to Cambridge on Saturday for the othello regional! I thought I might have to give it a miss, because I'm really seriously having to avoid spending money at the moment, but advance train tickets sucked me in with their enticing cheapness, and I'll be there and back for £18... plus £10 entry fee for the competition, plus the price of a good pub lunch in one of those expensive Cambridge pubs, plus other ancillary expenditure, but the point is that you're not supposed to add these things up, and anyway, it's still a cheap day out with good company!

Adventures on the high seas

I had a really great dream last night, in which an acquaintance who happened to be the captain of a cruise ship gave me the job of first officer. As well as getting to wear a very swanky uniform, my adventures on the first day of the job involved a robotic ship's cat's heroic struggles against an evil genius rat called Boris (with apologies to the memory man Boris Konrad, who must have been on my mind at the time, but who isn't an evil rat in any way, shape or form), and a trio of armed women occupying one of the first-class cabins (although the guns turned out to be toys that fired harmless indoor fireworks). The job also paid £90,000 a year.

So now I really want to work on a cruise liner. I'm sure it will be exactly like that.

Keeping you in the loop

I've been more than a little neglectful of this poor blog lately. I didn't even mention that I was doing a memory performance yesterday for an upcoming TV show! If they decide to use it, anyway, because it wasn't a spectacular success. And I've got another performance at an art exhibition in June - what is it about arty types that attracts them to me?

And I didn't mention that I had an interview last Friday on Radio Lincolnshire. Which was also unspectacular, it has to be said. You would have thought I'd be great at these things now, because yesterday also saw the first proper public debut of my Memory Man Costume! Yes, no more shabby old clothes, I now do these things in a light brown three-piece suit, black turtleneck and of course the hat. It was, at least, successful - the TV people had brought something along for me to wear in case I looked particularly awful, but decided I was okay the way I was.

That's probably the first time I've scaled such sartorial heights as 'okay as I was'. I'm a clothes horse!

It's a good time to be a Doctor Who fan

Okay, we're three episodes in to the new series of Doctor Who (or the second half of series 7, as they strangely insist on calling it), and they've been three good ones! Nothing even approaching the depths of that one with the pirates last year, or the various other lows of the whole River Song saga, I've enjoyed the whole semi-series so far, and I can't wait for what's still to come!

Wa erf?

The Waterfall pub in Derby is now called the Wa erf, according to the big letters on the wall. I suspect someone must have stolen the other four letters - and given what they spell, and that you'd need to be able to reach about twelve feet off the ground to swipe them, all evidence points to someone who's of above average height.

The goggle box

While I was too poorly or too busy remembering numbers and things to be sitting in front of the telly, the Easter weekend saw the return of Doctor Who and Jonathan Creek! Yay!

Although the Doctor was pretty good, my thoughts on watching the opening moments went along the lines of "Oh, the whole world in some kind of peril again. Oh, wow, it's wi-fi that's our enemy this time. Didn't we already do sat-navs? Seriously, he's not even pretending he doesn't write these in the car on the way to work any more!" This was followed after the opening titles by "Where did they find that guy? It's not just that he can't act, he sounds like he's never heard anyone act, or talk, before! Meanwhile, the older monk talks like everyone used to in Doctor Who of the sixties. They really ought to do a special episode where all the actors talk like a fifty-year-old BBC drama, that'd be cool!" And then "Wait, the whole opening couple of minutes was just there to justify the clever episode title, wasn't it." And then there was "So how did the hulking great robot get into the upstairs of Clara's house so quickly? What, did it climb up the drainpipe?"

But after that, and after resisting the urge to just fast-forward through it and skip to the end to see the Doctor press the good old 'make everything okay again' button, there were some good points, and I did like the clever revelation that it wasn't the real Doctor who'd broken into the building. Steven Moffat does write the exact same story over and over again, but it's usually entertaining when he does.

But then I can't help thinking "Maybe Doctor Who should try to be Jonathan Creek, just for a change, every now and then?" Because that's a programme that really makes you think "Oh, that's very clever, in a silly kind of way!", which is exactly the kind of thing that Doctor Who strives for a lot of the time. And the Doctor really should be more of an outer space detective, it suits him.

The new Jonathan Creek was just awesome in every way, and there needs to be lots more of it. Particularly Rik Mayall!

Dragon flu

Okay, I'm finally back home in Beeston, a day later than planned! I had to stay an extra night in the hotel in Pontypool, because I was hugely, violently ill all day on Sunday. I did suspect the catering in Llanover, but nobody else was affected, so it must just have been some evil Welsh virus - it was a proper 24-hour thing; having been up all night being sick and generally yucky all day, I woke up at 11pm on Sunday night suddenly feeling a lot better again. I absolutely never get ill, so this whole thing was a bit of a disturbing surprise.

In any case, that's set back my easter-weekend schedule enough that only now do I get to talk about the Welsh Memory Championship 2013! Everybody will have forgotten about it by now...

I got the train to Abergavenny on Saturday morning and cycled to Llanover from there - it's actually only a bit closer to Abergavenny than it is to Pontypool, but I was trying to make sure I didn't get lost, having made that trip last year. It worked, too - I was at Llanover Village Hall well before the start time of nine o'clock! It was only on arriving that I suddenly realised I wasn't wearing my hat, and had to unsuccessfully rack my brains for where it might have been. I eventually concluded that it was back in my hotel room, along with the spare pens I'd cleverly thought to bring along because my favourite biro was running out of ink, but no. I can only assume it's on the train, never to be seen again. Oh well, time to keep the headgear industry in business by buying Hat Number Six, and I'll have to do it before I go to Darmstadt at the end of the month! Maybe I should go back to the fedora, I don't seem to lose those with quite such frequency.

The village hall is a really great location for a memory competition, as I think I might have mentioned last year - it's quiet, there's a little room for arbiters, a kitchen and a big, spacious room for the competition itself. Which is good, because we had a record turnout, something like seventeen competitors, including more newcomers than you could shake a stick at and delegations from Sweden, Norway, Hong Kong and the Phillipines, plus the ever-awesome Dai and Phil to keep the whole thing running smoothly.

We started with names and faces, which didn't go too terribly for me. I'm trying to be a bit more systematic about it nowadays, rather than just looking at the paper and thinking 'right, how am I supposed to remember these things?'. But after that, we went on to five-minute binary, and I did better at that than I've done for many a year! Granted, not quite well enough to get my old world record back, but in fact I got the exact same score, 930, that I did in the golden age of 2008. Next time, I'm sure I'll do even better!

In random words I got an extremely respectable 87, then in 15-minute numbers a sort-of-acceptable five-hundred-and-something, and then five packs in 10-minute cards. Both of which I could improve on, but it's still a lot better than what I was getting this time last year. After a nice buffet lunch which wasn't at all responsible for poisoning me (that was probably McDonald's in the evening), it was five-minute numbers, which was my only completely disastrous result of the day, something awful like 160. I need to get back in the habit of being comfortably able to do 360, error-free, every time.

Anyway, I was roughly neck-and-neck with Jonas all the way through, but he moved ahead with one of his usual earth-shattering scores in abstract images, which I can definitely get better at with a little more practice, and beating me in historic dates, which I really should get good at again. We both got 100 in spoken numbers - that's the kind of thing that happens a lot when there are just two trials, of 100 and 400 digits - and so he had a lead of about 250-ish points going into speed cards.

We both did a 40-something-second first trial, then I came thiiiiiiis close (imagine me holding my finger and thumb really really close together) to winning it at the last, with a 26.88-second pack where I annoyingly switched the order of a pair of images right at the end. Oh well. So Jonas breaks my unstoppable Welsh Open winning streak! Much deserved, of course, and all the more motivation for me to try to win it back next year! John Burrows was overall-third and new Welsh Champion, beating last year's winner (and only other Welsh competitor) James Paterson. Dai had arranged some awesome medals - the international-competitor ones had a Welsh dragon made up of flags of all nations on them! - and Phil Peskett (one of those newcomers I mentioned) accompanied the prize ceremony by playing triumphant music on the piano. It was almost as stylish a ceremony as at the World Championship, and lasted for less than six hours!

Anyway, sorry for the cursory and entirely-me-centric review, but I'll be back on form shortly. Going to have some chicken soup now, not that I'm feeling all that much like eating, but I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that going 48 hours without any kind of nutrition is bad for you. Cymru am byth!

Ponty-Pridmore

Here I am at Pont-y-pwl, which is what the Welsh call Pontypool. The train station is "Pontypool & New Inn", or "Pont-y-pwl & New Inn". You would have thought there would be a Welsh name for New Inn too, but perhaps it's an exclusively English-speaking inn. Getting here on the train was an interesting experience - I've mentioned in this blog a couple of times that whenever I take a long train journey, someone throws themself in front of the train, and sure enough that's what happened today. I got to Birmingham to find that everything was being delayed or cancelled, including the train I was supposed to get to Newport. But there was one to Hereford that left a mere ten minutes or so late, so I hopped on that. I happen to know that there are trains that go from Hereford into Wales the other way, and then go south down through places like Pontypool, since I was expecting to go through there anyway and was a bit surprised that Cross Country Trains Dot Com was sending me via Newport, so I figured it couldn't hurt to be on that one. The people who work at the station were pretty clueless about what was happening, and were besieged by crowds of people expecting them to help, so I think it's always best to follow the rule-of-thumb "get on the first train that's going in the right general direction".

I only mention that rule when it works. Usually it doesn't, and I end up in Thorpe Culvert (small station on the way to Skegness) for six hours, but today it was just perfect. The Hereford train went a strange circuitous diversionary route to Droitwich, but when it eventually ended up at its destination, there was a Pontypool train on the platform right next to it, just about to leave. I hopped on and arrived in "the 'Pwl" about fifteen minutes later than I was originally supposed to. I'm impressed by my train-catching abilities!

In other news, it's sad to hear that Richard Griffiths has died. I feel I should mention it here, because the news stories all list a huge number of roles he's played, but never mention the two things I'll always associate him with - the starring role in "Pie in the Sky", and Doctor Meinheimer (and his nearly-exact double Earl Hacker) in "The Naked Gun 2½". Brilliant, both of them.

Anyway, tomorrow is the Welsh Memory Championship! I should qualify my comment the other day that I always do badly in Wales by admitting that I've won every previous Welsh Championship, but the competition should be very fierce this year! Lots of people, from beginners to experts, will be there!

Wales, here we come!

It's Easter, and it's also the Welsh Memory Championship on Saturday! I have a tendency to do really badly at these things, but I'm at least in better mental shape than I was last year, so we'll just have to see what happens. I'm going down to Pontypool tomorrow, and then finding my way out to Llanover on Saturday morning. I'm sure to forget something important, like my hat or a map of how to get there, and not remember until I'm half-way there on the train...

Familial

It's been a while since I researched my family tree, but I logged on to Genes Reunited the other day to find a message from someone in New Zealand who's also descended from my virile great-great-great-grandfather, William Bancroft (his first wife died when he was in his early fifties, so he married a woman thirty years younger than him and had three more children). Maybe I'll dig into my family history a bit more and see who else I can meet...

Congratulations to the winners!

At the UK Championship in 2008, I was at my peak of memory fitness, at least in terms of National Standard competitions, which are a different beast to World Championships. I set three cool new world records, in 15-minute numbers, 10-minute cards and 5-minute binaries, which have all stood to this day - because that's the point when I stopped training for these things with any kind of enthusiasm, and because there are very few National Standard championships in the world.

But no more! At the Italian Championship in Rome today, Johannes Mallow beat my numbers record, and he, Ola Risa and Jonas von Essen ALL beat the binary record! Okay, it was always a bit silly that I held a world record in numbers, which lots of people are better than me at, but binary is supposed to be My Thing! Now I'm the fourth-best in the world at 5-minute binary! I'm going to have to do something about this...

Hannes also beat his own record in abstract images, and Boris beat his own record in 5-minute words. I think that's all the records that have tumbled today, but if I missed anything, sorry. Rather than sitting here all day and following the live streaming and Dai's entertaining commentary on Facebook, I was dedicated and did a practice session of every single discipline myself! No world records here, especially towards the end of the day when it was a struggle to remember anything at all, but the practice is going to be useful for next weekend. Also, it kept me from being too depressed that I'm here at home in the middle of a never-ending blizzard, when all my friends are having fun in Italy. I bet it's really hot and sunny, too.

Well done, everyone!

It's... disturbing

Those adverts for mind-altering drugs to use on your cats and dogs. There's something deeply wrong about the whole idea. Though I'm tempted to get one of the things and plug it in, just to see what effect it has on me.

Football fan

I see that next Thursday, there's a match between Gateshead and Newport County, at Boston Utd's York Street ground. Gateshead apparently couldn't find anywhere better or closer to stage their home game, which I find a little difficult to understand, seeing as how it's hundreds and hundreds of miles away. But still, it puts me in mind of the time I went to York Street, some time around 1986, to see an England v Wales under-15 match. England won 5-0. This has to count as a good omen for the Welsh Memory Championship two days after the thrilling Gateshead/Newport match. As well as a good omen for Gateshead, although I don't really care about that.

Who keeps buying the thing?

Remember that blog last year about how my monthly income from "How To Be Clever" had inexplicably increased to the dizzy heights of £47.29? Well, it kept going up, and now it's always well over £50 a month. Last month was a staggering £83.69, although today's payment has sunk to a mere £65.71. I'm mystified. It still isn't a real book, after all...

Memorable results

The results of the Slovenian championship that I was so ignorant about yesterday have popped up on the internet - Christian Schäfer, Boris Konrad and Annalena Fischer showed seven Slovenian starters what a trained memory can do, in a regional-standard competition (the short format with more emphasis on the disciplines that require non-technique memory).

Over in New York, meanwhile, where the memory competitions are even more non-system-demanding (you won't find binary digits or abstract images there, and if you can't remember random words you won't win the title), congratulations to Ram Kolli! It's a long-awaited win - he won the championship in 2005, the year before the new-style cool final format was introduced (incidentally, is it really seven years since I went to watch the first one?) and then seemed to come second every year thereafter, so he's well overdue another win now.

I'd really love to arrange an American-style competition as some kind of English Memory Championship some day. Maybe if I ever end up with some money, somehow, I'll do it.

Memory 2013 is go!

The USA Memory Championship is happening right now, over in New York. Wish I was there - a Canadian TV company were looking for something to make a programme about and I dropped some heavy hints that the best thing for them would be to fly me out there, but they didn't bite. It's always a lot of fun, and it's good to see that they've amended the rules to allow for the possibility of two or more competitors perfectly remembering two packs of cards in five minutes - I remember the days when no Americans could come close to doing a single pack in that time; now there's the possibility of a play-off with three minutes, and then thirty seconds!

Judging by the pictures and tweets they've posted on Twitter, the eight finalists include Nelson Dellis, Chester Santos, either Ram Kolli or someone who looks a bit like him, and several people I don't recognise. I really do wish I was there to watch the finals and cheer them on! My money's still on Nelson to win...

There's also rumours vaguely fluttering around the internet that there's a Slovenian Memory Championship happening today, but I know absolutely nothing about it. It's probably in Slovenia, but that's not a great help; I can't really point to Slovenia on a map with any degree of accuracy. I'm sure it's a great competition, though!

Next Saturday there's the first Italian Memory Championship, in Rome. I extra-double-wish I was going to be there, but I haven't got any money. There are prizes, that would just about cover the cost of the trip, more or less, if I did go there and won, but that's a bit of a big if. Anyway, the Saturday after that, it's the Welsh Memory Championship, in Llanover! And that I will be going to. I'm a lot more prepared than last year, although admittedly that's not difficult. It's great to have competitions everywhere! The memory season is here!

Compare the adverts

Normality reasserted itself well and truly on the final day of the othello, with me losing all three games horribly - I'm meaning to write at greater length about it and othello in general, just as soon as I feel like it, but tonight I'm distracted by another subject. Those Compare The Market ads with Robert Webb completely destroy the suspension of belief

... that's weird, I'd got that far into writing when someone posted a comment asking how the final day of the othello went. I must be some kind of future psychic! Maybe I will write about othello tonight after all...

The fun of othello, you see, is analysing your games on WZebra, the computer program that knows everything about othello, after the game. The modern generation of young othelloists immediately pull out their iPhones or whatever and check to see what moves they got right and wrong, whereas old codgers like me wait until they've got home to their old-fashioned laptop computers. It tells me that there wasn't some kind of awesome game-winning move that I missed against Emmanuel C, that in fact we were basically neck-and-neck all the way through, with just a couple of mistakes towards the end tiltiing it from 34-30 to him, to 34-30 to me, and back again. It's fun, if you're the geeky type.

Right, I'll write properly about othello at some point in the future, and also finish that thought about meerkats. Look forward to it!

Othello!

Othello! I haven't played for so long, I seem to have forgotten how to play badly. Eleven players, so a round robin with eight games today and three tomorrow - my first game, against Emmanuel Caspard, was one of those where I was sure that there must be some clever move that would win it for me by miles and miles, but if there was then I missed it, and ended up losing 34-30. But after that, I went on a sort of unstoppable winning spree, beating Roy, the other Emmanuel, Pierluigi and David Beck, and playing really well (by my standards) in all four games! Then against Stéphane for the first time I got the feeling of not at all knowing what I'm doing, but somehow he took twenty minutes and two seconds to complete the victory (20 minutes on the clocks) and so I won on time, completely undeservedly. Then I had a bye to bring me up to six points from seven rounds - for reference, my rule of thumb is that five and a half points in total from the Cambridge International would be a great achievement, and I've only managed it once before! The final game of the day was a loss to Martin Ødegård, who apart from having a surname full of letters I don't know the ascii codes for had a perfect day, winning eight out of eight. Caspard is second with six and a half, and I'm in third place overnight with six. Woo!

Three games to go tomorrow, against Imre, Arnaud and Borja, all of which I'd expect to lose, but even if I do, the competition has been a great success. I must make a habit of never playing othello, even online, between tournaments!

The old alma mater

Here I am, back in Cambridge. Depending on whether I went to the Christmas tournament last year (I can't remember), I haven't been here for at least a few months. But I'm breaking away from the tradition of staying in Cityroomz and going with somewhere a great deal cheaper, albeit a much longer walk from the train station. Cityroomz, back when it was Sleeperz, was the really cheap and nice hotel in Cambridge. Nowadays it's the moderately-priced and nice hotel, which is a terrible shame. Nobody wants a moderately-priced and nice hotel, at least not while there are still fairly-cheap and nice hotels around the place!

Anyway, Cambridge International othello tomorrow and Sunday! It's not part of the European Grand Prix this year, so I'm not sure how many Internationals, or even Locals, will be there, but we'll see. I haven't played any othello at all since the last tournament I went to, whichever it was, so I think we can guarantee I'll do badly.

Hello Sam!

While my brother was here, he showed me something he'd found in a charity shop, and asked "Do you remember this book?"

"Not even slightly..." I said, picking it up and looking at it. "OH, GOD, YES!" I exclaimed after opening it up and seeing the Computer Card and Word Displays inside. It's only the best book ever, 'Hello Sam' by Heinz Kurth!

It's about a Solar Automatic Man called Sam, and you communicate with him like this:

Take the Computer Card that comes with the book and put it on top of the appropriate coloured word...



And hey presto, you're having a conversation! Such an ingenious idea, and I really loved it when I first read the book. There's an adventure involving Sam's Booster Box, that makes things grow bigger. And it ends with Sam telling us he's going to the sea for a holiday and that perhaps he'll see us there, but I don't know if there was ever a sequel. I don't know what happened to our original copy of this book, either - we weren't exactly ones to throw things away, but I don't remember seeing it after I was eight or nine. Impressively, this nearly-30-year-old copy still has the Computer Card with it - not necessary, since the book cleverly includes a template for you to make a replacement, but still cool!

Thundercats forever!

My brother's just gone back to China, having been staying with me for some time, and one thing we always like to do when we get together is watch Thundercats cartoons - we videoed them when they first came on TV in late 1985, probably because we were out playing in the snow when the first ever episode was on, and have watched them pretty much constantly ever since. Now that the series is available on DVD, of course, other people without our video collection have the ability to watch Thundercats too, but it'll take a heck of a lot of watching before anyone catches up to my and my brother's word-for-word knowledge of everything that happens in every episode.

One thing about the DVDs is that they have the episodes in a weird order. Wikipedia insists that that's the order they were originally broadcast in in the USA, but I personally doubt that. I never saw any website claiming that sequence of episodes until the DVDs came out - there were basically two different episode orders proclaimed by American websites, one of them roughly the same as the British broadcast order, one of them with a few differences. America, of course, is a weird place where different states get different television schedules, so all of the broadcast orders might be correct, but I still suspect the DVDs are just plain wrong.

Anyway, in Britain (the only country that matters), this is how the greatest toy-commercial cartoon of all time first appeared on our screens. If you've got the DVDs, this is the order you must watch them in, okay? With a few incidental notes along the way...

1 Exodus
2 The Unholy Alliance
3 Berbils
4 The Slaves of Castle Plun-Darr
5 Trouble With Time
6 Pumm-Ra
7 The Terror of Hammerhand
8 The Tower of Traps
9 The Garden of Delights

This is the end of our first videotape, which our father had inaccurately labelled "Thundercats (30 mins)" - the first episode was shown as a compilation of the first two, and actually lasted 40 minutes or so. Actually, being an old-fashioned E-180 tape, it only had room for eight episodes, but we had the video set to the wrong channel for Pumm-Ra and recorded the snooker on BBC2 instead. So having noticed the problem a week or so later, we taped Tower of Traps on top of it, leaving only a couple of seconds of Willie Thorne and an out-of-sequence videotape to show anything had gone wrong.

But as fate would have it, that's a perfect cut-off point for the first marathon watching session you might like to have - you get the first four world-building episodes and one other by head writer (and best writer in the whole series) Leonard Starr, and the four by Julian P Gardner, with his own somewhat different (but still, mostly, hugely compelling) take on the early days of Thundercats. He disappeared completely after The Garden of Delights (an incoherent and almost completely incomprehensible story that's still strangely fun to watch), leaving the way clear for the golden years of Thundercat adventures...

10 Mandora - The Evil Chaser
11 The Ghost Warrior
12 The Doomgaze
13 Lord of the Snows
14 The Spaceship Beneath the Sands
15 The Time Capsule
16 The Fireballs of Plun-Darr
17 All That Glitters
18 Spitting Image
19 Mongor
20 Return to Thundera
21 Snarf Takes Up the Challenge
22 Mandora and the Pirates
23 The Crystal Queen
24 Safari Joe
25 Return of the Driller

Two more three-hour cassettes full of excitement and adventure! Volume 2 goes up to about half-way through Spitting Image - we were experimenting to see if we could fit nine episodes on a tape, knowing that as good luck would have it Pumm-Ra and Spitting Image were available on a commercially-sold tape, whereas most episodes were never released to the video stores at all. Volume 3 covers the rest, up to the point where Children's BBC stopped showing Thundercats for a good long time.

Virtually all the episodes on volumes 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 were written by the five writers who'd go on to define the cartoon - Leonard Starr (all-round great), Peter Lawrence (script consultant who seemed to be roped in to provide a hasty script whenever someone else had missed a deadline), William Overgard (wrote stories almost exclusively about his own characters, with a Thundercat or two grudgingly included in the margins of the adventure), Bob Haney (with his unmistakeable contraction-free and weird-sounding dialogue) and Stephen Perry (perfectly okay stories without the characteristic quirks of his fellow writers). Well, there's also one by C H Trengove and two by Howard Post in the 'golden age', but the series certainly benefited from the small core of consistently good writers. But then we had to wait a while before volume 4...

26 Turmagar the Tuska
27 Sixth Sense
28 Dr Dometone
29 The Astral Prison
30 Queen of 8 Legs
31 Dimension Doom
32 The Rock Giant

And when it did come back, it was just these seven episodes. All good ones, though, even The Rock Giant, a Peter Lawrence classic with a plot consisting of "a rock giant comes and the Thundercats fight it".

33 Lion-O's Anointment First Day: The Trial of Strength
34 Lion-O's Anointment Second Day: The Trial of Speed
35 Lion-O's Anointment Third Day: The Trial of Cunning
36 Lion-O's Anointment Fourth Day: The Trial of Mind Power
37 Lion-O's Anointment Final Day: The Trial of Evil

Then, later still, we got the Five Trials. This is where American episode guides differ from British ones - the ones that come closest to our order tend to place the Trials earlier in the sequence. The problem is that the final scene features lots of characters who haven't been introduced yet, like Hachiman and Snarfer, which would mean that the Trials have to take place after The Thunder-Cutter and Feliner. On the other hand, Lion-O encounters Acid Lake and the Gaw-Rak-Rak apparently for the first time, which would mean that the Trials take place before Return of the Driller and The Astral Prison... unless he's just got a really bad memory. It's all very confusing.

Anyway, we saw fit to end Volume 5 at this point, since it had the Five Trials on it, although the BBC continued almost immediately with new episodes - almost, since they started with The Rock Giant, apparently unsure whether it had been shown before, and then moved on to...

38 The Thunder-Cutter
39 Mechanical Plague
40 The Demolisher
41 Feliner - Part One
42 Feliner - Part Two
43 Excalibur
44 Secret of the Ice King
45 Sword in a Hole

That's the end of volume 6, and also of the Golden Age Of Thundercats Cartoons. The remaining 20, which didn't get shown until even later, are mainly written by a wide range of one-off jobbing writers, most of whom didn't seem to understand even the basic concepts of the series. I suppose they had to fill out the 65-episode contract somehow, but it's a bit of a dismal end to the show. Our volumes 7 and 8 had to be reconstructed after losing the originals, so I can't completely 100% promise that they were shown in this order, but it was something very close to this, anyway:

46 The Wolfrat
47 Good and Ugly
48 Divide and Conquer
49 The Micrits
50 The Superpower Potion
51 The Evil Harp of Charr-Nin
52 Tight Squeeze
53 Monkian's Bargain
54 Out of Sight
55 Jackalman's Rebellion
56 The Mountain
57 Eye of the Beholder
58 The Mumm-Ra Berbil
59 The Trouble With Thunderkittens
60 Mumm-Rana
61 Trapped
62 The Transfer
63 The Shifter
64 Dream Master
65 Fond Memories

Luckily, that wasn't the end - imagine if your marathon watching-session had to end with Dream Master (possibly the worst episode ever) and Fond Memories (consisting largely of footage from previous episodes, although at least it wasn't a straight "clip show" like some cartoons produce). To get the full British Thundercats-watching experience, you need to watch Thundercats-Ho! The Movie - never shown on TV over here, but available as a video release. It appeared on the shelves before the second half of the first-season episodes had been shown, so you could watch it after The Rock Giant if you want to, but it's best to save it for a finale. Watch the VHS, not the split-into-five-episodes version on the DVD. You haven't got the VHS? I don't know, try eBay or something.

That, however, is the end. While they did make further episodes in America, they never found their way across the Atlantic, and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing. Okay, off you go and watch those DVDs! Relive my childhood!

The world's foremost cartoon character

Facebook is a funny thing. Yesterday I found myself with invitations to "like" two pages - Dave Farrow's, which asserts that he's "the world's foremost memory expert", and Tansel Ali's, which makes the slightly more modest claim (and, you know, not quite such an outright lie) that he's "one of the leading Memory Experts and Mind Athletes in the world". Facebook probably has hundreds of other pages following the same basic theme.

I don't teach memory courses myself, but this doesn't stop me getting lots and lots of messages on Facebook asking for advice in my capacity as one of the world's other foremost memory experts. And while I know that most of these come from people who don't speak English as a first language, I just can't resist making a slightly rude plea for a bit of basic message etiquette...

Rule 1 - Please don't address me as "Mr Ben". That just sounds silly. As a general rule, don't address anyone British by "Mr" and their first name; that's not how names work. But please also don't call me "Mr Pridmore" (that's my dad) or "Sir" (that's the boss of the Sparky People). "Ben" is fine on its own. Here's a visual guide for anyone who's confused:

Oh, and also please don't call me "Sir Ben", but as far as I know, nobody's ever drawn a picture of someone by that name. Incidentally, I somehow couldn't lay my hands on a Sparky Book this morning, though I know I've got some around here somewhere, so the Sir picture was stolen from this splendid blog which you should all go and read.

Rule 2 - Please don't start your email by saying "this is urgent", "this is very important" and so on. Not if you're asking me how to memorise random numbers, anyway. That really is never important. And do give me a day or two to reply before you follow it up with another note asking if I got the first one. Seriously, I wish I was as keen to improve my memory as some of these people are.

Rule 3 - Don't go into amazingly technical fiddly details of exactly how to visualise your person/action/object images, or whatever, and ask me if you're doing it right, because beyond the very basic principles, all I can do is explain how I do it and tell you that it's different for everyone and you should try different things to see what works for you. And I get tired of typing that, over and over again.

Rule 4 - Please don't assume I'm withholding some kind of super expert memory secret from you if I reply with something like the above. There really isn't a shortcut, you'll just have to work at it, I'm afraid.

Rule 5 - If you ask me for advice on how you can teach your tiny children how to memorise things in order to pass exams and be successful in life, don't be surprised if my advice is to just leave the poor kids alone and stop being such a pushy parent.

Thank you all for your attention

Mr Ben.

What a beautiful day!

The sun's shining! It's warm enough to go out without a coat, just about! You have to chain yourself to the ground so as not to be blown away by the gale-force winds, but it's still starting to feel a bit like spring! Yay!

Meanwhile, an acquaintance last night accused me of calling myself a 'memory athlete' and told me that sounds a bit silly. I of course replied that I never use that expression myself, and think it's a lot silly, but then I looked up the word on that famous source of information-that-might-not-be-true-but-who-cares, Wikipedia, and found that "The word "athlete" is a romanization of the Greek: άθλητὴς, athlētēs, one who participates in a contest; from ἂθλος, áthlos, or ἂθλον, áthlon, a contest or feat."

So it's not necessarily a sporty thing, and we memorisers can quite justifiably call ourselves athletes, and if anyone says we shouldn't, we can just point them to Wikipedia! I'm still not going to call myself a memory athlete, though.

I know that's not nearly as interesting as the genuinely-true fact that 'gymnast' is derived from the Greek word for 'naked', but I thought it was worth mentioning.

How to be French and clever

If you're a French speaker and want to know what "How To Be Clever" by that Ben Pridmore person was all about, can I suggest that you buy the new French edition - "Comment être génial avec votre mémoire", as translated by Max Parcœur?

I can't offer free emailed versions of this, since the translator wants to make money out of it, but I assure you it's worth buying - it has pictures and everything! Oh, and it's available on Amazon, but if you buy it on Lulu, it gives more money to the writers.

I feel all mercenary now.

Hooray for football

Really, it's not like the ballboy was a tiny helpless infant - he was a hulking great teenager who could probably beat Eden Hazard in a fight. People should be focussing on how rubbish Chelsea are at playing football, not how good they are at kicking small children.

Great final line-up for the League Cup, though - won't exactly do wonders for the cup's image as the trophy that nobody cares about, but it should be a very fun game to watch.