Memorable training

I'm really back in the groove of memory practice now - I've been doing lots of speed practice this week, I've created a few new journeys so I don't have to reuse them so often, and I'm going to take a break tomorrow so as to be fresh for some heavy long-discipline practice at the weekend.

This is the kind of routine I can follow when I get a job. Or if I get a job - there's an amazing scarcity of decent jobs in this area right now. Does nobody want a management accountant who's been on the telly? Or at least anybody who doesn't specify extensive experience of standard costing in their job spec? Seriously, who uses standard costing? I thought it was something that only exists in accounting exams! I didn't think it was something you could actually apply to a real company...

My Week In Media

I've been "tagged" by "Sam" and ordered to talk about what I've experienced in every possible medium over the last seven days. He suggested I could also tell us which media I've been watched/listened to/read in, but to my great shame, you've caught me in a slow week between starring in my own documentary and making a cameo in one about a chimp. Not so much as a newspaper article in the last seven days, to the best of my knowledge, although I have been being pestered at length by the Canadian Broadcasting Company, who are coming to film me next week.

Actually, I told them I wouldn't do one of the two things they wanted to film me doing, because they were starting to annoy me. I regret it now, because I've just remembered I've got a couple of friends in Canada who'd no doubt enjoy watching it.

But anyway, here's everything I can remember doing for the last week:

What I read

Probably within the last week, I finished re-reading The Green Mile, by Stephen King, which is one of his best, and always worth another look every couple of years once I've had time to forget all the little details. Then I moved on to Treasure Island, which I hadn't read since I was in school but had been meaning to buy and read again ever since I saw that they're performing it at the Derby Playhouse at the moment. It really is a fantastic book. Since finishing it, my bedtime reading has been selected bits of the complete works of Chaucer (the textual notes as much as the poetry - I love the intricate process of establishing a definitive text from all the widely varying manuscript readings. You just don't get that fun from writers who did their writing after the invention of moveable type).

In comics, last week's selection was The Umbrella Academy #5, probably the best new comic around at the moment, brilliantly written by Gerard Way and heartily recommended to anyone; Iron Man/Power Pack #3, latest in Marc Sumerak's wonderful kid-friendly superhero adventure in the classic style backed up by Chris Giarusso's hilarious Mini-Marvels strips (no Elephant Steve in this one, sadly), heartily recommended to anyone whose first superhero comic was the Power Pack backup strip in Star Wars weekly; and Penance: Relentless #4, which is frankly almost unreadable drivel and my only excuse for buying it is a sort of Thunderbolts completist syndrome that I really need to break myself of. I also bought this week's Beano today, since it was in a plastic bag and I couldn't flick through it in the shop like I normally do - it isn't much good. There's normally one or two entertaining bits in each issue, but the only strip of note this week is "Bash Street Zombies" by Kev Sutherland. His Bash Street Kids stories generally somehow fail to be as funny as they should be, but this one has a genuinely gigglesome bit with Cuthbert's comic rejuvenating machine that has an unfortunate side-effect of turning people into zombies.

What I watched

I haven't been watching much telly lately, actually. I watch the repeats of Friends on E4 every night (yes I do, Crispy - "lowbrow" indeed...) followed by repeats of The Simpsons on channel 4 and that's about it. Until it finished on Sunday I was watching quite a bit of the snooker - Stephen Lee (enormously fat) lost to Mark Selby (slim), which just makes my resolve to lose weight even firmer. I don't want to be the only 'sport' champion who's obese. Even darts players are positively skinny these days. And I watch the football highlights every Saturday and Sunday evening.

As for cartoons, it's a bit of a slow time for quality animated entertainment these days. It's a while since the American studios churned out a good, watchable adventure or comedy series for kids. In the field of very-small-children's entertainment, I have been enjoying "Timothy Goes To School" just lately. It's a by-the-numbers kind of semi-educational series, but they do make an effort with characterisation and humour above and beyond the call of duty for a show like that, which I do appreciate.

I also watched the first couple of minutes of Ski Sunday, just to see if the 'new direction' for the series really is as bad as it sounded. Yes, it is. If anything it's even worse. They decided to change it from a programme about ski competitions into Top Gear without the cars. Why they thought that would be a good idea is beyond me - see rubbish skier Graham Bell looking at mountains! Woo! And, despite the continuity announcer's assurance before the programme, the wonderful theme tune has been very badly remixed and mostly drowned out by helicopter noises and swooshing sound effects.

What I listened to

Again, not all that much. I've got out of the habit of listening to an album in an evening. Except for tonight - the best of REM is playing right now. It's "Orange Crush" at this exact moment, if you really need to know. I've maybe had another couple playing in the background this past week - Definitely Maybe by Oasis, and This Is The Life by Amy McDonald. I've also had Virgin Radio on from time to time. I'll listen to anything except The Geoff Show and the Saturday afternoon show where they interrupt the songs every time a goal is scored in any football match in the country.

What I surfed

Bits and pieces, here and there - Sam's aforementioned blog is one of the couple I check daily, Jemfy's is the other. I keep forgetting to read Samt's every day, but I've kept up with it when my brain permits.

Webcomics I read either daily or whenever they update: Newshounds, Something Happens, Ozy and Millie, Count Your Sheep, Achewood and Order Of The Stick.

I read the BBC News website, the forums for memory and othello competitions and anything else that springs to mind. I always like to read the comments people leave on this blog, of course - thanks in particular to those who suggested ways I could lose weight, but I don't think I'll be getting a pedometer (they click over if you shake them - I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation) or the fitness plan that comes with a disclaimer that some people say it could be harmful, tempting as that is.

What I’ve played

As I'm sure you know, I'm hugely disdainful of modern video game systems. In the past week, I've been playing Sonic the Hedgehog on my Mega Drive - the original game, Sonic 3 and the bonus game you get when you plug Sonic 1 into Sonic And Knuckles. Great stuff.

Online, I've been occasionally playing othello - I always play in the Saturday night tournament on kurnik while I'm watching Match Of The Day, and I've been doing quite well by my standards just lately. I've also been playing a bit of xiangqi/Chinese chess, and finding that I'm much worse at it now than I was a few years ago when I was playing semi-regularly. And I was always pretty terrible.

Well, I think that's enough details of my everyday life to be going on with. REM have moved on to Electrolite, so I've had five full songs play since I did the listened-to bit. It's a good thing I've got nothing else to be doing with my life, isn't it?

Speed cards

I've been practicing, but I don't think I've been practicing in the most intelligent way. What I should be doing is practicing taking the pack a bit slower, linking each location together, and seeing if I can get my time doing that down to around thirty seconds or so. If I could do a safe thirty-something seconds in competition, that would be enough to squish my opponents. But I prefer to practice doing it as fast as possible, leaving the individual locations isolated, which is riskier but significantly under 25 seconds most of the time.

I'm not a very professional kind of competitor. I can't stand doing slower-but-safer when I know I could be doing fast-and-probably-make-a-mess-of-things. Which is strange, because I was always good at egg-and-spoon races at school.

Lard Lad

This is, Blogger tells me, my 850th blog post. Which is a really huuuuuge number, and deserves a really huuuuuge topic, like how really huuuuuge I am. The weighing machine in Woolworth's is working again, and I weighed myself yesterday to find that I'm 12 stone 11.6 pounds now. This is just getting silly. It seems that ever since I decided to weigh myself three months ago, I've been getting fatter at a staggering rate.

Well, no more! Proper dieting, exercising, not stuffing my face, here we come! Thin Zoomy, they'll call me in a couple of weeks. Maybe I'll even get one of those have-a-flat-stomach-in-one-day videos I occasionally see advertised. I'm not sure I'd like a flat stomach, but this weighing machine is annoying me. Either I'll lose weight or take a hammer to it, we'll see.

Appreciate me!

I've only just found out, but it seems that January 16th was Appreciate A Dragon Day. No, really, it was. Look it up on the internet. You can buy e-cards and everything. Why does nobody ever tell me about these things?

Well, it seems that tomorrow is National Hugging Day, and that 'national' here means 'applying to any and all nations', so I'm going to expect hugs.

Found on the internet

Yes, yes, I know I'm always scathing and rude about unimaginative people whose blogs consist of links to more interesting places on the web, but it's a slow news day, so I thought I'd share a couple of things that have caught my eye.

Did you know there's a campaign to erect a statue of Long John Silver in Bristol? I must say, I wholeheartedly approve. And not just because it would give lots of people a much-needed opportunity to dress up like pirates and say "Aharr, Jim lad" - it's high time one of the greatest literary characters in history got some recognition. As the Trust's website points out, he's an almost unique example in Victorian fiction of a positive role model for the disabled, and also a brilliantly complex character with a wonderful amorality that I think we all admire, and possibly the only example in 19th-century children's stories of a bad guy who not only gets away scot-free but is amply rewarded for his evil ways. I've always thought that Silver and his wife (an almost unique example in Victorian fiction of a strong, black, female character) were just crying out to be included in a flashback in Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Perhaps they still will, some day.

And while we're browsing the internet, might I direct your attention to this article? If there's one group of people who are always, without exception, wildly misrepresented in the press and the public consciousness, it's furries, and this piece is heartily recommended for anyone who thought "What, you mean people who dress up like animals and have sex?" when they read that word.

Something else

I seem to have done nothing but write about memory lately, so instead of lamenting about how I can't get back under 25 seconds in speed cards after not practicing for a while, I'll talk about something else for a change.

Um...

I suppose I could poke fun at the way the TV commentator (possibly Willie Thorne, I can't quite tell from the voice) didn't see a problem with using the phrase "it's a Chinese snooker" just now in his commentary on the match between Marco Fu and Ding Junhui. Isn't that actually an offensive term? It means a situation where there's nothing between the cue ball and object ball, but another ball immediately behind the cue ball, hampering cueing, and it became known as a Chinese snooker not because it happened in China once, but because it's 'backwards' from a normal snooker and thus stems from the perception that the Chinese do things in a stupid foreign way, not like us sensible English types. I'll complain to the BBC.

Or I could complain to Viz - an article in the latest issue has Richard Griffiths complaining that he's always typecast as a fat sixty-year-old man. '"I never seem to be considered to play any other sort of part, such as 20-year-old circus contortionists, jockeys or little girls," he added, before being removed from the stage by several burly firemen using a block and tackle.'

A while ago, I wrote a silly film review noting that one of the leading actors, a large, bearded man cast against type as a five-year-old girl, put in an impressive performance. If I'd put that one in my blog rather than scribbling it on the back of an envelope on a letter to my brother, I'd be complaining that Viz stole my joke, and possibly trying to sue them for millions of pounds.

The film had other problems, as I recall, caused by three of the four leading actors dying of natural causes the night before filming the final scene, forcing them to be replaced by life-size marionettes operated by the director hanging from the ceiling.

Or I could write about Wednesday's Torchwood, which I thought was entertaining enough, if pretty unexceptional. It was fun to see James Marsters snogging John Barrowman, though - I haven't checked up on this, but I bet there are a heck of a lot of fan fictions on the internet featuring that kind of scene.

Or possibly I could talk about the way the weighing machine in Woolworth's is broken, so I can't see whether I've lost weight this month. If I'd weighed myself this morning, I possibly would have done, but I've stuffed myself to ridiculous levels this afternoon for no good reason, so if the machine's fixed by tomorrow, I'll probably be heavier than ever.

Actually, whether the machine's fixed or not, I'll probably be heavier than ever. But if it's still broken, at least I won't know for sure.

Ooh, or I could talk about how I found a Nessie the Dragon cuddly toy in Woolworth's, for £7! Well, I had to buy the thing, didn't I? She sings when you squeeze her tummy! And there was just the one of them on the shelf, in a battered old box, that must have been lying at the back of the stockroom since Nessie's brief moment of popularity.

Or perhaps I could talk about the comic strip I'm drawing when I get a free moment (which is surprisingly rarely just lately) - another exciting adventure for the superhero fox kids you may recall from some time last year. It'll take me a while to get the thing finished, but I hope that when people see it, they'll say "Wow, your artistic skills really have improved! Way to go!"

Note that when I say "I hope", I actually mean "I insist, whether you really believe that or not." My ego is fragile, and needs gently massaging.

Or I could talk cartoons. I haven't done that in this blog for ages, and it's not because I don't like cartoons any more, it's just that I always felt I was adopting a show-offy kind of tone somehow, because I felt like I needed to explain a bit more about what I'm talking about than I do for memory or othello or things like that, when I know I have at least some readers who know what I'm talking about. But I still vaguely intend to write at ridiculous length about Thundercats some time, and just maybe I'll get round to it.

Or I could lament about the shortage of jobs around here at the moment, even the scummy short-term jobs that I might resort to just to get back in the office for a while. But it's hard to write very much about the fact that something doesn't exist, so maybe I'll wait till a temporary management accountant job comes along and I start debating whether to take it or not.

Nah, it's no good, I can't think of anything to write about apart from memory stuff. I'm planning to do more long-discipline practice this weekend when I can in good conscience unplug the phone without cutting off job offers and things, although I'm in two minds as to whether it might be better to work on speed instead, since I know I'm not as fast as I should be. We'll see what I feel like.

Also, Online Memory Challenge on Sunday! Not too late to sign up! Go on, it'll be a laugh!

Professor Perfect

Well, as I briefly said last night, yesterday's jaunt down to Plymouth was pretty successful, all in all. This demonstration was hosted by the uni's psychology society, with help from the head of school, Professor Tim Perfect, whose name I'm sure I will eventually stop giggling at. Professor Perfect (heehee), in fact, wants the three of us memory men to be subjects of some kind of psychology experiment in the future, investigating what makes us tick, which might be entertaining.

But as for what we were actually there for, the demo had a small audience of ten people, making it a perfect warmup for Preston, where there will be a couple of hundred, and we all did our various memory tricks without any real problems. I thought we came across as rather awkward and mumbly at the start, but we'd warmed up into professional-sounding performers/lecturers in memory techniques by the end of the hour. None of the students had seen The Mentalists, or my Blue Peter "performance", but they were all hugely impressed by my badge. Which promptly broke, and had to be wedged into my hatband for most of the demonstration. But it's fixed again now, thanks to superglue.

Everybody seemed to enjoy it - Professor Perfect (titter) and his less interestingly-named colleague had to leave half-way through for a meeting, but the students all stayed to the end without looking bored, commented enthusiastically on what they'd seen and all showed interest in the upcoming university memory competition. So it looks like we'll be able to carry through our plans of a competition in each university we visit, followed by a bigger final championship to decide the best student memoriser in the country. James Paterson and I spent the lengthy train journey home planning the impressive memory competition society we'll form when we win the lottery, and that'll be a really great thing, I assure you, but what's actually going to happen seems pretty groovy too. We're sure to bolster the ranks of memory competitors, and people who've heard of memory competitions, in this country by a huge amount.

Also, yet another person recognised me in Derby today. I had no idea so many people watched channel 5!

Memo demo

It all went pretty well, really. I'd go into more detail, but I was up early and it's late now, and I'm going to bed when Torchwood's finished. I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

Plymouth ho!

We're going to Plymouth tomorrow, to do a memory demonstration at the uni, as I think I've mentioned before. It'll involve me trying that menu memory performance for the first time ever, so the students can look forward to a Blue Peter-style shambles. I bet they all saw Blue Peter, actually, and will jeer and throw things at me as soon as they see me. Maybe I'll wear the Brazilian Mystery Cloak and keep the hood over my head.

Still, another guy stopped me in the street to talk Mentalists with me today! And also, Alexei the German journalist let me know that his article about me appeared in the Badische Neueste Nachrichten and Weser-Kurier last week. So not quite the neueste Nachrichten, but I have pdf files I can send to anyone who wants them and isn't in a position to get last week's local German papers.

Scuse me, mate, weren't you on TV?

Yes, it's doubleplusofficial now, I'm a celebrity! A complete stranger recognised me on the street and congratulated me on having a great memory! His name's Kasim, and I'd like to thank him if he's reading this (which in all fairness he probably isn't, he didn't say The Mentalists was his favourite programme ever and it's made him want to know everything about me, or anything like that).

It was actually quite scary - the rest of the time I was in town I was going around thinking "There are people out there who know me even though I don't know them. If I pick my nose or rob a bank or something, even if nobody I know is around, it might be headline news in the Derby Evening Telegraph - Local Memory Man Picks Nose, Robs Bank". It's frightening, and I don't think I can deal with the intense public scrutiny. I know now how David Beckham feels.

As one book is lost, another is written

Well, I had the time but not the inclination to do an hour numbers practice today - feeling a bit burnt out, so I decided to rest my brain. But I'm still optimistic about being able to keep up with some pretty heavy training and getting back to world championship fitness, mentally speaking.

Apart from that, I started re-reading The Green Mile by Stephen King, which I've got in the original six mini-books it first came out as, only to realise half way through book 2 that I can't find the sixth one. This is really annoying, because I've got a bookcase now, and while it holds somewhat less than half of my books, the others are all stacked up very nicely on top of my cupboard, so losing books should be a thing of the past. It's probably under my bed, which means lugging the heavy thing around to find it (not to mention risking angering the monsters down there).

Still, on the other hand, How To Be Clever is only needing four more chapters and an introduction before it's finished off! Admittedly those four chapters are the ones that are barely started or in one case not-at-all started, so it'll take some more work, but there really is light at the end of the tunnel now. Actually, just getting this 'first draft' finished will be such an achievement, I might not even bother with the hassle of sending it to publishers or agents. That would all be a bit of an anticlimax, don't you think?

Follow the Sour Bee

An extra early-morning blog post today, just because I feel the need to chronicle the cool dream I had last night. Actually, this was just a segment of a longer and more involved epic kind of dream, but basically I was in my bedroom with a number of other people (who I think were my brother and two embodiments of different aspects of my brother's personality) and an archaic video game system. Which malfunctioned, and sucked us into a magical other world.

There, in a scene that was overplayed as if it was an episode of a sitcom, we were summoned to the throne room of a king, who informed us that he had two brothers, one of them a twelve-foot-tall giant and the other a six-inch-tall Tom Thumb type, and that he required us to go on a quest to kill his brother and save the kingdom. I asked him to clarify which of his brothers he wanted us to kill, noting that I wasn't willing to go on a quest with such easily misinterpreted instructions for a king who clearly had people killed at the drop of a hat, and he responded "Follow the Sour Bee, and it will guide you to the one of my brothers whom I want you to kill."

From somewhere behind the throne emerged an ordinary bumblebee, except that it was green and black instead of yellow and black, which buzzed around us. However, then the giant brother came along and squished the king on his throne with one lazy swipe of his giant club. He then sat down on top of his splatted brother and looked at us, whereupon we all swore eternal loyalty to him.

The thing that really tickles me about this dream for some reason is the Sour Bee. I'm delighted with my subconscious for dreaming this thing up, and I need to include it in all future stories that I write, just so that it can fulfil its true potential.

I really am a mentalist

Woo, check out the memory champion, back in training! Results of a good day's work - half-hour binary 3550, hour cards 24 packs (attempting 30), speed numbers 256 (best of two attempts). So obviously I can do significantly better in all three, but if I got those scores at a world championship there wouldn't be many who'd beat me. And more importantly, this is the first time in a very, very long time that I've done so much memorising in one day. If I can do the same kind of thing tomorrow (hour numbers, spoken numbers and speed cards), I will be deliriously happy with myself. I haven't done a full weekend practice session for ages and ages, and there was a time, many years ago, when I was doing them nearly every weekend. Wonder if I can get back into that kind of mood?

It's all the talking about memory I've done lately. So keep talking memory competitions with me, people, whenever you see me! And speaking of memory competitions, let me just put in another plug for the Online Memory Challenge, now that I know I have blog-readers who are training in memory but who I don't necessarily talk to. The next OMC is on Saturday 20th January, at 10am GMT - very early morning if you're in America, but we have to give the Australians a chance to take part in these things too. The OMC really is an ideal way to add some variety to your practice, to meet other competitors of all ability ranges, to test yourself and not have to mark your own papers, and to have some fun! Come along and join in!

Mentalists follow-up

Thanks for all the comments, one and all! Since practically everyone who commented on last night's entry included a question, here are the answers:

Lewis: Yep, I'm the only person mad enough to have one image for each pair of cards. I'm pretty sure it's the way of the future, though, and a few other people are experimenting with it right now. Incidentally, do I know you? I'm not aware that I know anyone called Lewis, except the Derby County players Lewis Price and Eddie Lewis, and I don't actually know them, I just memorised their names this morning.

Ian: I'm next on the telly on January 29th, co-starring with those loveable memory monkeys. And you can rest assured that I'm going to train hard and beat Gunther this year! Definitely!

Mike: I just don't like pain au chocolat. I'm very much in favour of chocolate and don't have any particular objection to bread, but put them together and serve it to me for a French breakfast and the thought makes me ill. Give me a bread and butter pudding made with stale white bread any day of the week. Incidentally, I have three regular blog-commenters called Mike - I can usually deduce which one is commenting by what they say (subtle clues such as the fact that only one of the Mikes I know cohabits with an Emma), perhaps you guys could give me more of a clue? Mike D, Mike C and other Mike C, for example?

Ace: I just don't like pain au chocolat. But Ashley can certainly have an autograph, if I can give him a cuddle.

Mike C: I've known you longer than the other Mike C, so you're "Mike C" instead of "other Mike C". No, there isn't a website about me, and I'm not going to make one either. Why would I want one? To tell the world I'm great? The world already knows that!

Katy: Thanks! Here's a summary of things people have said to me about the documentary - "I especially loved Zoomy's grandma, she's so sweet", "your gran is cool", "your gran came across as a lovely wee wifie". I don't know why they bothered to put me, Ed and Gunther in the film at all...

Sam: Was I one of the pillocks on there?

Well, I was on Radio Derby this morning, they invited me on as a sort of follow-up to last night's TV. Much to my satisfaction, they didn't ask me to memorise cards for once, but instead gave me a load of Derby County statistics instead - all the current squad with their numbers, all their results this season, and Robbie Savage's disciplinary record. And even more to my satisfaction, I memorised them all perfectly! Even the names! I'm very happy with myself!

And what's more, this weekend, there will be Training, with a capital T! I've been doing well this week, I've done a half-hour cards, half-hour numbers and half-hour binary, plus a whole lot of speed cards, over the last five days. I think I might be able to try some hour numbers and cards without my mind wandering. If I can do a real pile of practice this weekend, I'll know I'm back on song.

"Bet he's got no problems remembering where he left the car keys"

Bless her, that's what the continuity announcer on Channel 5 has just said about me. Gosh, I've never heard that before. And if I had car keys, believe me, I would lose them. "The Mentalists" is on after the break and I thought I'd write my blog while I watch it, or at least until I can't stand to see and hear myself acting like an eejit any more and turn it off...

"There's a small group of people across the world whose brains harbour an amazing ability..." Not a great start. I was hoping for a "this is something anyone can do" approach. Heehee, ooh, fun footage, though! Gunther's house!

Ooh, my house! Tumby house, that is! Ooh, me in the used-to-be-the-dining-room-and-is-now-the-kitchen! Heehee, me with the straw hat! Ugh, I'm ugly. And my voice is horrible. Argh, I always sound so pretentious when I'm talking to the camera! I don't normally sound like that in real life, do I? Also, I'm fat.

Fantastic that we get to see the house, anyway, I can show this to my brother. Hee! They spelt "Highley" wrong! That'll upset the people at the leisure centre! Hmm, artful camera angles to disguise the fact that only five people turned up for the UK championship... Yay, my Zoom-Zoom T-shirt!

Ooh, clever, they matched me telling my spoken number story to a shot of the answer paper - and correctly synchronised the images I'm saying with the numbers as the camera pans across! Nice one, Nick!

"Booyeah!"

Heehee, James Kemp looking impressed in the background. Wow, first advert break already? This is a lot more fun than I expected it to be. I wish I hadn't scuppered the ending by losing the world championship now.

I bet Alan Hansen doesn't really shop at Morrisons. He's just lying because they give him money. Big fibber. Although I suppose he must do his shopping somewhere, so there's a chance he really does. Unless he's rich enough to have someone do his shopping for him, of course.

I'm recording this for my brother (who's out doing something more exciting tonight) but also for any foreigners who want to see it and can arrange to get a copy from me. They'll get to see all these British adverts and experience a whole different culture.

Come on, put The Mentalists back on! Ah, that's better. Who the heck is this reciting poetry? Oh, Ed, of course. Heehee. Ooh, is that the field where we got lost on the way to his party? Yep, there's stately Cooke Manor. God, Ed, people are going to take you seriously when you say things like this. The quality of the terrain, indeed...

Yay, Ed's dad gets an interview too! "We thought he might have finished with the world memory and get a job or something..."

Ooh, is this going to be Grandma's moment of glory? Oh, thanks, Nick, let's say "Ben's parents separated when he was nine..." that's important information for everyone to know. Yay, Grandma looks great on TV! She's watching it right now with all her friends. Heehee, thanks, Grandma, "He doesn't tend to brag about his achievements." Oh, fantastic, Dad's photo too! Hope that's the end of the Pridmore family soap opera.

Oh god, Tony Buzan with a kendo sword. He wanted this documentary to be called "Warriors Of The Mind". "Some people call me a guru, you know..." Good old Tony.

His 92 books on the brain... Actually, I thought the 92 included his books of poetry, don't they? Say what you like about Tony, he's one heck of a snappy dresser. I've always loved his clothes.

Ahh, I remember that taxi ride to Central Tonight in the pouring rain. Happy days.

Hey, you know, I'm really enjoying this. Excellent - "Useless is what would describe what I do..."

Ahh, German championships! Whoa, wait a second. "He's certainly beatable, although he hasn't shown much sign of it over the last few years." I said that about Clemens and they edited it to make it seem like I was talking about Gunther!

Heehee, me getting stressed after dropping the pack of cards at the end. Classic.

Ooh, Gunther's house is nice. Is that his giant chess set? And I'm sorry, I refuse to believe that Gunther and Michaela practice like that, in English yet, when there aren't any cameras around...

Eww, yuck, prawns. "Cutting onions with ze big knife..." Heehee, this is funny stuff.

Ahh, more adverts. Woo, we're half way through and it hasn't made me look particularly stupid yet. Possibly I was worried about nothing.

All that M&S posh food looks horrible. Pain au chocolat bread and butter pudding? Yuck! Now, my dad used to make a great bread and butter pudding.

Too many adverts on telly these days. You know, it occurs to me that you'll need to be watching the documentary while you're reading this blog, or it won't make any sense. Ah well, who cares?

Here we go, Ed and Lukas high-altitude training! You've already told us Ed is the world number 17, people, you only get 45 minutes, don't duplicate information! "Every year we come to the mountains where Lukas lives as a goatherd and train ourselves for the competition..." Heehee. Bet they follow this up with me doing karaoke and getting drunk. Hope they do, anyway.

Wow, nice scenery. Nice camerawork, too! Kudos to Nick, if he did that bit himself. Wow, Ed looks like the real guru, up on top of a mountain. And chopping wood!

Heehee, Gunther's got a lot more trophies than me. And he keeps them in a cabinet.

Yay, "Ben has his own approach to last-minute training" and us getting drunk and karaokeing. Wait, we have me talking about the upcoming German championship made to look like I'm talking about the worlds? More trickery!

Oooooooh, Bahrain. Such a cool place. I hope we get to go there again. Heehee, me with the hankie on my head, foolishly going out in the midday sun. "I'm sweating like whatever the halal equivalent of a pig is..." Hope nobody finds that offensive.

Team China! We really, really need matching T-shirts next year for Britain.

Dr Yip and his Oxford English Dictionary. There should have been more of him there.

Ah, the drama of the abstract images. Ooh, the excitement of the competition! This is actually put together very nicely. "Gunther's mind games pay off" is a bit misleading, but never mind.

That footage wasn't of me starting to memorise binary digits. That was hour numbers. Fakery.

Did I mishear that? Did I say "The Blue Beetle"? Why would I have said that? He's not one of my images? And no, Gunther hasn't been shaken by my performance, he was expecting me to get that kind of score.

Oh, excellent, I was hoping Boris would get a cameo. Nice speed-stacking!

Aargh, hour cards. What a horrible disaster that was. Do we have to see this? Can't we pretend that I got a big score and won the world championship?

Still fun to watch, though. Those aren't my cards, despite what the narrator said. They're German cards.

Heh, "Ben, ludicrously stupidly, tried to do 36 packs of cards..." Nice one, Ed! Actually, it wasn't because I was going for so many that I went wrong. My brain just wasn't in the right place, that afternoon, and I could tell from the start that it wasn't sinking in.

More adverts. Nearly finished. Do you think I'm going to win the world championship? I bet I am. Hey, wasn't that Lynne Slater from EastEnders on that Take A Break advert?

I was hoping there'd be an appropriate advert that was connected in some way to me or to memory, but they're all for things I'm not interested in at all, like Jamie Oliver.

Hmm, answer that message from Crispy or keep blogging? Keep blogging. Gunther and Michaela are training in their hotel room. "Do you ever relax?" "Sometimes, but very rarely."

Ed is actually good at explaining what's going on for establishing shots. I didn't really do any of that. Oh god, he's sounding serious again.

Ah, speed cards. Turn away now if you don't want to see me make a fool of myself...

Sigh. I suck.

My beard doesn't look as grey on TV as it does in real life, though. That's a good thing.

God, I can't believe I messed up the speed cards. It's so embarrassing. Heehee, me and Phil look like siamese twins there.

Well, Gunther deserved it, anyway. Next year it'll be a different story. Oh, I basically said that on the interview, too.

Wow, this has been a great documentary. Oh, the narrator was Richard Vranch. Should have recognised the name. He's a great pianist too, you know.

Well, that's that. I liked it! I hope it was entertaining for the people watching it who'd never heard of me or memory.

It could be you

Yesterday I found two Thunderball lottery tickets for tonight's draw, lying on the floor in the shopping centre in Derby. I was looking forward to a moral dilemma when one of them won the jackpot and I had to decide between keeping all the money to myself or finding the person who bought and lost them. However, they didn't win a penny. I feel doubly disappointed.

It'll make a good sequence

I'm in two minds. Should I watch 'The Mentalists' on Thursday night so I know what people are talking about when they jeer at me on the street the following day, or should I miss it and avoid the horror of hearing my horrible voice, seeing my horrible face and witnessing a documentary making me out to be some kind of weirdo entirely different from the kind of weirdo that I really am? I'm pretty sure that you can't sum up my life in 45 minutes, so I don't think I'm going to like it, however well-made and flattering it might be...

On the other hand, I do miss being followed around by a cameraman urging me to do things that I would never normally do, on the grounds that "it'll make a good sequence". Maybe I'll see if I can persuade someone else to make a documentary about me, this time about accountants, or othello players, or people with unusually long toes. I don't think there's ever been a documentary about any of those sub-groups of society, and let's face it, if Channel 5 will show a documentary about memorisers, they'll show a documentary about anything.

Hey, maybe I could become a director, and follow someone else around with a camera all day! It looks like a fun thing to do, when you're not dealing with a stroppy weirdo who doesn't want to be in a documentary in the first place.

Sissons Scissor Sharpening

"I don't like to have to say this to you, lads," Mr Sissons said to the three women who worked for him at his scissor-sharpening stall on Bolton market, "but you've probably noticed that business has been a little slack recently. We live in an age when people just don't seem to need their scissors sharpened as much as they used to. I don't know why, I think it's something to do with the internet. And it doesn't help that those other two scissor-sharpening stalls opened up on either side of ours and started charging less than a quarter of what we charge for the same service. But the long and short of it is that we've only had one customer in the last eight years, and she only came here to ask if we'd seen her lost dog."

"What are you getting at, Mr Sissons?" asked Valerie.

"Well, I'm afraid that I simply can't afford to employ three full-time staff any more. Unless you can think of a better alternative, I shall have to sell the lot of you into slavery in order to pay the rent on the stall for another week."

Roberta, who had an NVQ in business administration, suggested "Perhaps we could diversify the business? Start selling scissors as well as sharpening them?"

"No, no, that wouldn't work at all," Mr Sissons said with a shake of the head. "I have a terrible fear of scissors, and while I can just about tolerate having them in close proximity to me for as long as it takes to sharpen them, I couldn't bear to have a stock of them on this market stall. It would drive me out of my mind!" He shuddered at the very thought.

"Maybe you could admit to that woman that you stole her dog, and you've still got it at your house now?" Dolores said. "She might pay a reward, and to be honest I've always been a little concerned about your habit of stealing people's pets. I think it might be illegal."

"Nonsense," said Mr Sissons with an impatient wave of the hand. "If people can't protect their pets from thieves, they don't deserve to own them. Likewise with televisions and jewellery. No, there's nothing else for it, the slave trader will be here in five minutes, put these manacles on and try to look like hard workers."

Just then, a man came up to the counter and asked "I say, do you sharpen scissors, by any chance? I have a rare pair of diamond-encrusted gold scissors which, being made of gold and thus hugely inferior to ordinary steel ones, need frequent sharpening. I'll pay a thousand pounds a week for you to keep them sharp."

"Eh? What? Scissors? No, we don't sharpen scissors," Mr Sissons said, distractedly. "No, wait! Yes, we do sharpen scissors! I got confused there for a moment..."

But the man had already left, with a disappointed look on his face. "Blast," Mr Sissons said. "I just don't understand why my business isn't more successful. It's the internet, I'm sure of it."

Remember!

Ah, there's nothing like sitting around talking memory for a couple of hours to get the old motivation running again! Did a half-hour cards this afternoon with nearly no mind-wandering, and I think I got a perfect 18 packs (although I haven't checked them yet). And this is despite having a pint of Foster's at lunchtime!

Hmm, maybe it wasn't the morning's discussion with the Jameses, maybe it was the beer. Perhaps getting drunk is the secret to a good memory? I'll have to experiment further. But I'm pretty sure it was the conversation. I was actually in the mood to follow it up with a late-night half-hour-numbers session, but then I got chatting on the internet for, well, two or three hours. But the point is, I'm still in the mood to memorise, and tomorrow, when there will be fewer distractions, I think I'm gonna do some more! Woohoo!