Student + ??? = Adult

In the Western world, we learn so much between the ages of 18 and 21. Whether we go to university, get our first full-time job, or begin chasing our dreams in earnest, these years are usually our first steps into true independence. We go food shopping for ourselves, go all out when it comes to parties, go halfway round the world on journeys of self-discovery. Parents and schoolwork are no longer around to define us, so we have to find out who we are for ourselves.

The flip side of that, of course, is that no one can tell us what to do; and we exploit that to the full. The number of people I know who blew most of their student maintenance loan during freshers' week is pretty staggering - I mean if we're going to be in debt anyway, why not have some fun along the way?

In my experience, this ideology of excess pervades student life on many levels:
I've only got one lecture today, I'll skip it and binge season 7 of RuPaul's Drag Race.
Let's unlock everything in Mario Kart Double Dash, and drink every time we hit a banana!
What? We ate all this week's biscuits while watching fail videos on YouTube?

Those examples are only partly true, but you get the idea.

The milestones of 18 and 21 are supposed to mark the beginning and end of our final transition into adulthood. However, there are some obstacles that even those years cannot teach. Friends of mine in their mid-to-late twenties have overcome them, and I think it is these hurdles that truly separate the adults from the big kids. I don't know if I've identified them all yet, but the one I'm focussing on here is 'moderation'.

The reason this skill is hard to learn stems from the 'no one can tell us what to do' attitude of the average first-year student. Doing things in excess is fun, feels fulfilling (at the time at least), and is made easier by the newfound freedom of our surroundings. Why shouldn't we marathon American Gods when Amazon Prime has a free trial for students? And if uni won't punish us for not turning up to lectures, why should we prioritise them over going out and drinking every night?

I should point out that I have never been that kind of student - I can count the number of contact hours I've missed on one hand. But I still rebel against moderation. The longer a D&D game is, and the more snacks I can eat during the game, the better. And if I'm going to hang out with friends at a house party, then I'm going to do it until we're kicked out!

But adults have responsibilities. They need to be awake enough to do their job, so they can still pay rent. They don't have the safety net of student loans or schedules; don't have the time to play Overwatch for 5 hours at a time. As a graduand, I'm beginning to realise that moderation forces itself on us all eventually, so the adult world can function normally.

I'm not looking forward to leaving the excess of freedom behind, but I know there are things I won't miss about it: hangovers, for a start. The feeling of uselessness when you realise that looking for easter eggs in Cars 2 isn't as productive as it sounded three hours ago. I look forward to moderation, to actively making time for the things that really give me joy, that really matter.

After all, being an adult can't be that bad...

Can it?

Podcasts Are Awesome - And More Important than Ever.

Is it just me, or do you really hate the internet sometimes?

Don't get me wrong, I don't know what I'd do without it. I organise my life on Facebook, I stream 90% of my music through Spotify, and of course no internet means no Overwatch!

But I'm sure you've had some not-so-great experiences: You finish reading an interesting article, whether it be Buzzfeed, the Onion or something a little more high-brow, and you decide to have a look at the comments section. Surely your peers will have some enlightening comments on what you've just read?

No? Just people yelling at each other? Penning essays of drivel with no evidence to back up your point, just to one-up this stranger who's rubbed you up the wrong way? Ah well...

Okay, this doesn't happen all the time, but it seems that intelligent discourse on the web is getting harder and harder to find. This is why I love podcasts. I'm sure most of you reading this already know and love the world of podcasts, and don't need any encouragement to enter this wonderful world. But for the rest of you, here's my case:

First of all, podcasts are free to anyone with an internet connection, something that few legitimate entertainment providers can claim these days. Download a good podcast app and you immediately have every single podcast out there at your fingertips.

Variety is another positive: hobbies, interests, genres - any corner of culture you can think of, there's probably a podcast for it. Want to explore Gilmore Girls in thematic detail? Then Gilmore Guys is the one for you. Are you a glutton for trivia? Well how about Tell Me Something I don't Know? Or maybe you're more of a storyteller, in which case I can heartily recommend horror-narrative podcast The Magnus Archives. You get the idea; the sky really is the limit.

Practically, they are a godsend - I don't like leaving my data on when I'm not using it, so I make sure there are a few podcasts downloaded on my phone before I leave the house. But my favourite thing about podcasts is the intelligence they bring to the internet. People who make podcasts, for the most part, are not those launching drivel after diatribe at others in the comments section. These are people who see the world for the complicated, fascinating place it is and, in their own small ways, attempt to show those complexities to the world at large. It's admirable, it's entertaining, and it's more important than ever in a world of fake news and sensationalist media.

Please give podcasts a go. You won't regret it.

As a starting point, here's a list of my current podcast subscriptions:

This American Life (Very well-researched magazine show)

The West Wing Weekly (An episode-by-episode look back on The West Wing)

Freakonomics Radio (Much more interesting than it sounds at first)

Welcome to Night Vale (A fictional radio show set in a mysterious desert town)

Answer Me This (A British classic, hilarious and informative)

Rusty Quill Gaming (D&D for your ears!)

My Dad Wrote a Porno (Exactly what it says on the tin - you will cringe and cry with laughter)

Song Exploder (Detailed analysis of modern music, really well made)

S-Town (An intriguing investigation into a mysterious death in small-town Alabama)

Goblet of Fire: Worst Movie, Best Music

Having debated with fellow Potter-heads about our favourite books in the series, Goblet of Fire is often at the bottom of the list. I think this is largely because, apart from the final few chapters, the book does nothing to advance the overarching 'Voldemort' story. But for me, the fourth installment is where J K Rowling really comes into her own. She fleshes out her world with explorations of government and international relations, and the Triwizard Tournament serves as a thrilling metaphor for Harry's overwhelming struggle with the forces of evil.

It's just a shame about the movie, really.

After two very bright, family-friendly films directed by Chris Columbus, Alfonso Cuarón's interpretation of The Prisoner of Azkaban helped move the franchise in the darker, emotionally mature direction for which the later films are renowned. But in between lies the Goblet of Fire, and within it I see none of the things I love about the fourth book.

We marvel at the build-up to the Quidditch World Cup, with its incredible set design and art direction, only to have the match take place completely off-screen. Indeed, the film spends very little time exploring the 'grown-up' wizarding world, preoccupied instead with the angst-fueled relationships of its teenage protagonists. It's not a dreadful film, but it's indecisive - its tone is all over the place, and excellent performances from the likes of Brendan Gleeson and Miranda Richardson are stilted by the slow, often awkward pace of the non-action scenes. Oh, and then there's its glaring lack of fidelity to the book.

The film's saving grace, however, is its incredible score. Just as Mike Newell was a one-time director in the Harry Potter world, Goblet of Fire sees Patrick Doyle's only contribution to the series. And boy does he make a mark. Taking over from John Williams of all people must have been a daunting task, but Doyle rose to it with gusto, creating an original, but still totally magical, soundtrack.

In the film's opening, he heralds a change in musical style by deliberately twisting the famous 'Hedwig's Theme' into his own, darker arrangement. With the exception of the Quidditch World Cup, the first forty minutes of the film is underscored with wonderfully threatening motifs, as tensions rise between Harry and Ron, and the enormity of this year's challenge is brought to light.

The score really hits its stride once the two boys are back on terms, with sweeping romantic melodies that Potter fans will forever be humming while they wash up. 'Neville's Waltz' is subdued like its namesake, but without it, the famous 'Potter Waltz' would not have the triumphant payoff it deserves during the Yule Ball. Speaking of which, let us not forget that this is the film that combined Pulp and Radiohead to form a semi-fictional magic rock band.

As the film goes on, the film folds back into its dark underscoring, with Doyle once again subverting John Williams' notorious glissando in 'The Maze.' The final scene is one part of the film I think Newell got absolutely right. The emotions are complex - Harry is alive and well, but the knowledge that Voldemort has returned looms large in the mind; Doyle complements this with 'Another Year Ends,' a simple and reflective piece that is by no means triumphant.

All four composers employed in the Harry Potter series do brilliant jobs - Nicholas Hooper's score shows variety and expertise at every turn, Alexandre Desplat's haunting arrangements are consistently spine-tingling, and of course John Williams' theme is one of his many timeless trademarks. But Doyle's score is special. He captures the essence of The Goblet of Fire more than anyone else who worked on it, whether celebrating Harry's retrieval of the golden egg, or beating out a Bulgarian fight song. I listen to this soundtrack all the time, and every time I awe at its scope: mystery, jeopardy, thrill, wonder.

And its not just me who loves this soundtrack. I won't tell you what's in the final room of the Harry Potter Studio Tour in Leavesden, just in case you haven't been. But I will tell you that it's made me cry both times I've seen it. And the two pieces they play on repeat just before you leave: 'Harry in Winter' and 'Hogwarts Hymn,' both from this soundtrack. They truly do encapsulate, perhaps more than anything else, the magic of Harry Potter.

Trump's America: The Government of Gut Reaction

If you've ever seen one of Donald Trump's tweets - and let's face it, you have seen at least one of Donald Trump's tweets - you'll have noticed he's a prolific user of gut reactions. One of the huge advantages of social media, especially Twitter, is the efficiency with which one can openly react to or comment upon something: The transition from written thought to public statement is literally the speed of light. Use of a tool that fast and powerful requires care, thought and deliberation, especially for someone with 29 million followers.

Now, I'm not trying to condemn the gut reaction. I know all too well that I let my emotions respond to things before I've truly processed them. I'm glad to be in touch with my emotions, but I feel I have the presence of mind to vet my raw thoughts before shouting them into the void.

But the more I think about it, the more it seems that President Trump's success has depended on the power of the gut reaction.

In a recent episode of popular podcast This American Life, I learned about a small congressional race in Virginia that took place in 2014. I highly recommend the podcast, and I'll link to the episode at the end, but the TLDR version of it is this: an unknown candidate ran against the House Majority Leader, and won against all odds. Why? Well, it's complicated.

Steve Bannon, then executive chair of alt-right media network Breitbart News, got involved in the race, and began polling Republican voters on their issues, asking if they would vote for their rookie candidate Dave Brat. With defence and health insurance they got nowhere, but asking about immigration got a positive reaction. So they altered their strategy accordingly.

A post-victory poll revealed that immigration was not really a priority for voters in that election at all. But the gut reaction was enough. And two years later, Steve Bannon helped Donald Trump pull off the same trick. Crowds of people chanted "Build a wall!", committed acts of violence towards those of ethnic minority. And surely most of them wouldn't be seen dead doing that outside of a Trump rally?

Trump played on the instant, emotional reactions of even the most reasonable - suspicion (where are those emails, Hillary?), injustice (Where's my factory job gone?), pride (The American Dream is gone!). And he has not stopped. Ordering a military strike over dinner with the President of China; trying to ban as many immigrants as possible as soon as taking office; lashing out at any media network attempting to fact-check the White House.

Gut reactions can be useful. They are a window into our instinct, they tell us how we really feel, help us to make decisions. But every day Trump is making choices on behalf of millions of people, that could affect millions more. Getting elected on gut reaction is one thing, but leadership is different. No one can fly a plane on intuition alone, and the US is one big plane. If he wants to avoid impeachment, I suggest Mr Trump takes some lessons.

Inspiration for this post:

https://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/615/the-beginning-of-now

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aFo_BV-UzI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geEVwslL-YY

My Overwatch Obsession (Sorry)

Though a proud member of the nerd community, I've never considered myself a gamer.

Like, I love video games. I always have. But not real video games. Growing up the only consoles I had were Nintendo, while around me my friends would discuss the merits of Call of Duty VS Halo. Next to those 'proper games', Mario Kart and Zelda don't count, do they?

I mean they probably do, but they're definitely different. When I was first exposed to First Person Shooter games, they disgusted me - especially COD. I couldn't understand how you could have fun pretending to shoot other human beings. I only got into Halo because you're killing aliens instead of people.

But then Blizzard made one. And it is everything I thought an FPS could never be.

It has a fertile backstory, but Halo has that.

It's co-operative, but then so is Left 4 Dead.

There are two things that make Overwatch stand out: its characters and its outlook.

Of course, there are other character-based FPS games. Team Fortress 2 has 9 different classes, many of which have Blizzard Counterparts - Demo-man VS Junkrat for example. But all playable characters in TF2 are male, while Overwatch offers 24 (and counting) heroes, almost half of whom are female. This scope and diversity in gender and race means there's something for everyone, even before play styles come into the equation. It also keeps the game interesting, as strategy can alter with a single change in one team's composition.

Outlook is harder to explain, but it boils down to this: most FPS games have quite a negative atmosphere - they're set in a time of war, terrorism or even apocalypse. In aesthetic and atmosphere, Overwatch has a much more positive vibe. It frames its characters as heroes who save the world from rebellious AI, or rebel against authoritarian governments (looking at you, Lúcio). In short, we don't just want to play as these heroes, we want to be them. If you're interested, this video explains the the game's vision of the future in more detail.

I haven't been this into a video game since Pokemon Sapphire. I watch YouTube videos about it, I track my stats online, and I do my best to keep up with the lore. And I think that's the main thing that attracts me to Overwatch above all other First Person Shooters - the characters are great to play, but they also drive a rich story line and populate a vast, ever-growing world. I love me some world building, and when it comes to video games, Blizzard (creators of World of Warcraft) are the masters.

Sorry to nerd out on you like this, I just needed to get this one out of my system. Normal (and hopefully regular) service will resume in May. Thanks for your time.

The Obligatory Quidditch Post

This weekend, I won my first ever sporting medal. It was gold. And it was for playing quidditch.

Before I get started:

• No, of course we cannot fly.
• But yes, we do have brooms between our legs.
• And yes, we reduced the value of the snitch: it's only worth 30 points (3 goals).

Anyway, this post isn't a guide to quidditch, there are plenty of those on the internet already. This is an appeal - if you can, I encourage you to give this game a try.

But I'm not a sporty person!

Fair enough. I have never considered myself a sporty person, and I still don't. Before quidditch, my primary form of exercise was walking with occasional cycling. I've always found team sports stressful, since I am not a competitive person, and people always seem to take sport (and the winning thereof) much to seriously. Quidditch players take the game seriously too, but no matter how competitive things get, we all have to remember that we're all running around with pipes between our legs. It sets enjoyment as a prerogative over winning, and for me that's perfect.

But Harry Potter sucks!

First of all, you are wrong. Like, objectively wrong. Second, it doesn't matter if you don't like Harry Potter. It's not just the points system or lack of flight that separates Quidditch from the world of the books and films. Many teams do have Potter-themed names, like the Norwich Nifflers and the Liverpuddly Cannons, but that is by no means the precedent - my own team is the Nottingham Nightmares, and our closest neighbours simply go by Derby Union Quidditch Club. So you don't have to be a nerd to play quidditch. But we might turn you into one.

But I don't go to university!

That's fine too. Though most quidditch teams (in Britain at least) are based in universities, and associated with Harry Potter Societies, this is not always the case. The Werewolves of London and Velociraptors are two examples of community/graduate teams, and most university teams would be more than happy to get in contact with anyone interested.

Quidditch may not yet be an established sport yet, but its increasing popularity puts it in a unique position - anyone who wants to, and is willing to put in the effort, can play quidditch at a competitive level. It's enormous fun, great exercise, and friendship-building. My quidditch team is practically a family, and most of us have only been there for a year.

So I heartily recommend this as an alternative (or supplement) to however you currently exercise. Come run around, make friends and learn the most enjoyable sport I have ever played.

What's Wrong with Working Alone? - Thoughts on "La La Land" and "The Lego Batman Movie"

La La Land has split opinions across the board. Its red-carpet recognition reflects the general consensus that it is well made: a 'passionate but also exquisitely controlled' piece of cinema, as Variety put it. On the other hand, it has taken a lot of flack for a variety of reasons - some would have liked to see people of colour in the leading roles, especially since jazz and its roots have such a crucial role in the film's emotional impetus. But there is one complaint I have seen pop up quite often: that the protagonists of Damien Chazelle's latest effort are wholly selfish, chasing their own dreams with no concern for their audience or even each other.

This is true, at least to some extent. Seb (Ryan Gosling) is a jazz pianist who, despite frequent collaborations, is at his most creative and inspired when playing alone. Mia (Emma Stone) attends many failed film auditions, eventually deciding to put on a one-woman play, not caring how many people turn up or whether they like it. As the film progresses, the couple realise that they cannot continue their careers and their relationship; something has to give, and so they go their separate ways.

Put this way, it doesn't sound hugely inspiring. But I enjoyed La La Land immensely, and on some level I think these critics might be missing the point. Enter The Lego Batman Movie.

Marketed principally for children, this film has a much more obvious thematic arc - Batman is used to working alone, achieving safety for Gotham and notoriety for his sole protection of the city. As the story unfolds, he is challenged to accept others into his professional life (new police commissioner Barbara Gordon) and his personal life (the orphan Dick Grayson, also known as Robin).

For an hour and a half we laugh as Bruce Wayne struggles with these new additions to his world, ultimately overcoming his unshakable independence and learning that working alone is not always the solution.

While La La Land and The Lego Batman Movie are very different films, they do have their similarities. for a start, each can be viewed as nothing more than an advert for a multi-million dollar industry, whether it be North American films or Scandinavian building bricks. One gets comic payoff from genre-crossing and pop culture references, and the other is made entirely out of Lego.

But they are linked thematically as well: they both focus on the people and experiences that shape and change us. No, Mia and Sebastian don't have their happily ever after, but their time together has an impact. At his lowest point, Sebastian joins a band making commercial music that he disagrees with, and only Mia has the sense to remind him of what he truly wants - his own jazz club. Their argument at the centre of the film is unfair from both sides, but at its heart is a desire for each to make sure the other is truly happy.

By the same token: While Mia's friends claim she can only find success by happening upon a Hollywood bigwig at a Los Angeles party, it is Sebastian who gives her the confidence to use her own life as inspiration, and build a career for herself. The climactic song "Audition (The Fools Who Dream)" encapsulates these things, drawing on Mia's aunt's spontaneity for a toast to those unafraid to hold onto their dreams. Mia takes on the spirit of jazz - the confidence to improvise, live in the moment and do what comes naturally.

The idea of working alone is prominent in both of these films, but in my opinion it plays second fiddle to their most important message: be on the lookout for people and things that will challenge us, make us think differently, do things differently. As Aaron Sorkin wrote: "keep accepting more than one idea." In today's political and social environment, nothing is more important.