The internet is a silly place. This is a known fact. An even sillier place is Twitter. It's impossible to have any meaningful conversations with a limit of 140 characters. What is possible is for someone to say something ridiculous then double down on it. Enter Louise Mensch.
I've been calling ceilidhs for events semi-regularly now for the past 4 years. I'm a big fan of calling ceilidhs, especially with a band with a great set of tunes. At it's best there's a good collection of dancers, the room is full of people smiling and laughing and I'm feel like I'm doing barely any work.
In my 'other' life, I'm a web developer. This site was built by me on top of Laravel, with a design template that I found that I liked. I realised I've not been making a lot of little projects for the past year, so I've been working on little tiny projects on the side. The latest is mpuz.js.
It's been a hectic few months for me. I've recently moved house, and just afterwards my sister decided to get married. This was followed by another wedding the week afterwards thanks to a friend at university. On the plus side, I did manage to sneak a quick day in Whitby for the John Birmingham Cup Final. If you've been keeping up with this blog, you'll have seen the post I made about getting into the final after winning the heat at the Sheffield Sessions Festival.
This weekend I was invited to Wath Festival as a finalist in the Young Performer's competition. I've entered it a few times when I was starting out but I didn't really have my sound nailed down so I didn't get in to the final. They were looking for some late entrants this year so I entered on Tuesday before the Cross Folk gig and got it confirmed during the break1.
Ordinarily, I'd steer clear of politics. It's a tricky subject for me, because I don't think I'm anywhere near knowledgeable about either the process or any of the topics involved. I'm no economist, I'm just a singer. And most importantly, political songs have a habit of being sung to people who already agree with you which kind of deadens the point in my view1