Final Fantasy - A Retrospective

In honour of SquareEnix’s announcement of a remake of seminal Japanese Role Playing Game ‘Final Fantasy VII’ I have decided it is time to explore my relationship with the series in the only way I know how. By writing an in depth, emotional retrospective about the part the series has played in my, and all of our, lives. 

When Hironobu Sakaguchi first had the Bovril induced fever-dream that inspired his creativity he was very worried that his passion and fervour for the project would lead to him dying just as it was released into the world, like some savage sadness akin to an octopus mother who snuffs it the moment her wee’uns fly off to be eaten as fry by some fat whale. Hence it was titled ‘Final’ fantasy, although the irony is he did not die, and went on to make lots of very good games. Inevitably, as with all good things, Hironobu’s creative love-child grew old and claimed to no longer need its daddy and as usually happens with the cutting of the apron strings, it kind of went off the rails a bit. Still, we live in hope that one day it will pull itself together and remind us of what we knew was in it all along, and if not if it could just plod along being decidedly normal then that’s good as well. The main concern is the fact that for a while it looked increasingly drugged up and bloated and we just hope its kicked the gear and is straightening up to fly right. 

Over the years the series has seen protagonists, villains, characters, NPCs and worlds come and go, some more engaging and immersive than others. But let us continue discussing where it all began, those nappy-changing baby years of the series. Final Fantasy (for NES…and Wonderswan Colour, and PS1, and GameBoy Advance and IOS and Android and emulators and microwaves and smartwatches and eggtimers and other stuff)

Programmed on a Casio PocketPiss 1242, with a budget of two mismatched buttons and a hairy sausage, Final Fantasy was hardly the beautiful marvel of graphics and spectacle of set-pieces we expect from SquareEnix these days. But it was a matter of substance over style for series creator and all-round wish-he-still-worked-at-Square-guy, Hironobu Sakaguchi. 

Final Fantasy begins with a group of people with no back story who all know each other for some inexplicable reason to do with magic crystals. It’s like everything you ever read in one of those wanky new-age shops, except instead of it being the believings of mad people with scruffy hair and hemp clothing it’s a game plot. Anyway, they walk into a town and because they have an aura of ‘I’d gladly give my life to fetch your inbred, elitist brat’ about them they are enlisted to fetch the daughter of the King of Cornettos. She has allegedly been kidnapped by Judy Garland and this will not do, so you have to get her back. Her name is Sarah and that’s a name that will come up later in the series when a man in a beanie hat who puts magic stickers on his coat runs around punching things and shouting it, possibly because of a cognitive impairment. 

Upon returning, everyone tells them they’re very special and should bugger off and save the world. I have to wonder how many sordid corners of caves are filled with the partially decomposed remains of others who have completed minor tasks and been told they are the special ones who should go off and save the world. Still, your party of ragtag misfits go off and do try to save the world. 

The party can be comprised of a number of different character classes, like Economy class, Standard Class, Business Class, First Class and of course Warrior. The balanced party is considered to be one with a person who can whack things, a person who can steal things, a person who can burn things and a person who can make all your boo-boos better. 

Anyway, you all travel the world, killing lots of stuff along the way, ultimately making it a worse place for some reason before travelling to some god-forsaken time-hole and starting the whole process again because time-loops are a fool’s mechanic and the plot is about as thick as filo pastry. Here lies Erdrick. 

You see, Judy Garland had apparently been messing with the time whatsits and everything got a bit fucky but then you hit things with a sword and it all went back to normal – Hooray! 

Anyway, it’s a pleasant enough experience, but purely a nostalgiafest and an ability to see where it all began. Even for the time it may not have seemed all that groundbreaking, as Dragon Quest was already a thing. The characters are not all that engaging, since they’re those silent, blank-faced, fill-me-in protagonists with zero backstory except for black mage who all you discover about him is he keeps his face in shadow because a sad wizard replaced it with a two kilo bag of granulated sugar. You can see how all the ideas were developed moving forward and later games pay huge homage to elements present (Final Fantasy IX in particular) but overall I’d say you could give it a miss or just watch some videos about it or read 8-Bit Theatre if that’s still a thing (I remember when I got a letter published in Red Mage’s Letters – I was so proud!)  Some of the remade versions make it a bit more tolerable, and the GameBoy Advance version adds bonus dungeons, so if you do want to play try to get the best version. 

The music, well that’s a different story. Composed by Japanese metalhead and Demi-God Nobuo Uematsu, the thing is littered with classics that I still hum to myself to this day. The famous Prelude began here, the victory fanfare – but pieces that did not become leitmotifs for the series also shine. Chaos Temple, Matoya’s Cave, Gurgu Volcano. It’s pretty good given that the sound chips at the time were called chips because they were made of crispy potato and sounded as such. 

All in all, the game is a bit ‘meh’, but the impact it would have would go on to spawn a series that would in time take it upon itself to consistently redefine what could be achieved with the medium of videogames. Welcome to Corneria. I like swords.

Mercer's Amazing Top Ten Top Ten's (You won't believe #6 - It'll literally make your face spontaneously combust)

It's not so much an 'it has come to this' scenario, as much as there was no 'this' to come 'to'. So in a bid to draw people to my amazing blog I am starting out on a new path, a pure path, paved with journalistic nous and integrity. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a path forged in the fires of righteousness itself. The ever respected Top Ten List. Here are my top ten Top Tens.

 *Honourable mention* 11. Top ten numbers to have your amp go up to.

10. The numbers 1-10

These are the top ten numbers, and as the top ten numbers they pretty much define top tens. Without them we'd have something else possibly weird and entirely conceptual like a top dustbin filled with hats that is also a boat that's got a set of antique silver spoons for a captain. Can you imagine if people had to write their top dustbinfilledwithhatsthatisalsoaboatthat'sgotasetofantiquesilverspoonsforacaptain lists? Exactly, it's daft. So the numbers 1-10 come in at number 10.

9. Top Ten episodes of cult classic Australian TV show 'Round the Twist'. 

Do you remember it? It was like Skippy, but shit and with no kangaroo. I particularly liked the episode where little Jimmy got stuck down the well and on account of not having a clicky bastard marsupial to rescue him we just watched him slowly decompose over 20 minutes.

8. Top Ten vaguely memorable celebrities whose names you forgot but you remember them from that thing you have mostly forgotten. 

You know, like whatshisname from that thing? You know? With the ducks that play hockey or something? From the 90s? No?
How about him? You know, tall fellow? Accent? Played that villain in that movie with the other guy? The old dude from Men in Black? You know what I mean?

7. Top Ten Types of Cake

Spoilers - Bundt is inexplicably number one. Chocolate fudge was excluded because it was from a TV show broadcast on a televangelists network and they thought 'chocolate fudge' sounded too much like a gay sex act. The presenter was later found to be very active on the mobile apps Grindr, Bummr, CasualButtSexforHypocritsr

6. Top Ten Lists that Literally Make your Face Spontaneously Combust

A little known list from twisted mystic and international wanky bullshitter Uri Geller. Unfortunately this lie-and-deception spectacular of spoonbendery and benderspoonery was a complete flop on account of only one person's face combusting. This was Uri's after the network threw napalm in it when they saw the ratings.

5. Top Ten Movie Adaptations of Naked Lunch 

William S. Burroughs' clusterfuck gratuityfest and classic of literature that you'll never study for GCSEs has been adapted into multiple formats. Famously shittily rewritten by R. L. Stein  as '50 Shades of Grey', it was also adapted into a videogame called 'The Sims' and there was also that theme park ride that we can't discuss because of the court cases. However, this list was focused on the famous movie adaptations, such as 'Free Willy', 'Avatar' and 'Harry Potter and That Time He Climaxed from Anal Penetration Providing Sufficient Stimulation To  His Prostate As To Facilitate Ejaculation Part 1'.

4. Top Ten Brown Envelope Handovers

One for the police and private investigation enthusiasts. Featuring a Who's Who of all your favourite MPs, we see them take bung after bung getting progressively better over time as is to be expected with a list that counts down from the awesome to the even awesomer in numerical order. It finished with number 1, which is Boris Johnson getting a bribe in an envelope shaped like a man from a man dressed as a brown envelope. The man shaped envelope was convicted of fraud, the envelope shaped man couldn't be tried on account of his being an envelope and as punishment Boris was made leader of the Conservative party and romped home to an election landslide because everyone is stupid.

3. Top Ten Best British People Ever

Getting to the business end now! This one is so amazing I will comment on every entry in the countdown!
10 - Kate Moss - The reformed(?) heroin addict and former stick insect, Moss was voted number 10 because she got her boobs out, but was not higher on the list on account of they were quite small.
9 - Golden Grahams - Not really a person, and likely not British, however they are called Graham, so that's something.
8 - Jade Goody - What she was, right, was an obnoxious racist thicko whose greatest achievement was getting cancer. She had her own posthumous range of scented candles, but they all smelled of the downfall of society.
7 - Queen Elizabeth II - Her legacy will last numerous lifetimes because that's how inbred dynasties work. Still, she does a lot of good for this country, like waving and unleashing her fool of a husband on foreigners - which became the sport of choice for Britain post fox-hunting ban.
6 - Danny Dyer - 'Coz he's a roight nawty geezah! Allegedly.
5 - Nando - Donald H. Nando is the owner and sophisticate entrepreneur responsible for the genius thought of taking a chicken and putting sauce on it. This revelation caused riots across the UK, and since the revolution was won by mouth-breathing nostril pickers you can eat genius saucy chicken in multiple Nandos establishments often on the same street.
4 - That old fella from the Werther's ad - The one we all called a paedo, and the only person on telly between the 60s and the 90s who wasn't one. God bless you for slipping your buttery candy in our mouths.
3 - Katie 'Jordan' Price - Model (surgically enhanced), TV Personality (personality not included), Author (of books she didn't write) and inventor of the 'Quantum Electrodynamic Casimir Field Generator' allowing free and clean energy for all. Price was voted number 3 because she got her boobs out, but was not lower on the list on account of they were quite big.
2 - Anton du Beke - BBC's resident dancing racist is probably most famous for having directed the movie 'Terminator 2: Judgement Day'. Rumour has it he wanted a scene in which Sarah and John Conner do a Viennese Waltz but it was cut at the last minute because they spent all their budget on spangly shoes and apologies.
1 - Clash of Clans - Her contribution to British culture has been unparalleled. From the sculptures that litter our shores, paintings in galleries, to our pastimes. Clash of Clans not only invented the seaside, but she invented ice cream and fish and chips to eat by them.  A true Great British icon.

2 - Top Ten Ducks

What's your favourite? The mallard? The Goldeneye? The Widgeon? The Egyptian goose? The crusty shoveller? The shingled bungler? The flying flucktroo? The blasted bastard? The one-eyed bugle? The standard punchbird? The elephantile infantiluck? The dongleplongger?

No, of course not, everyone's favourite duck is Howard.

and finally, what you've all been waiting for.

1 - The Top Ten Top Ten's

This list is legitimately the greatest top ten list ever composed and none shall better it. Officially better than Buzzfeed, and Crackd can shit off. First started in 1812 in Hamburg, the Top Ten Top Ten's became an institution among unappreciated, otherwise ignored shut-ins looking for attention. I am pleased to carry on this proud tradition.

On Annoying Bastards and the Forgotten Arts of Anxiety, Stress and Depression

It should come as no surprise to many of you that we humans, at least in many cultures, have it pretty easy. When I say 'easy' I mean, of course, in comparison to how our biology suggests we should be living. You see, in nature, human beings occupy a unique position of having a manner of adaptive evolution removed in large parts from its genome. The usual way for an organism to adapt to, say, a warm climate is for it to reduce fur, increase vasodilation, alter colouration to protect from the sun and even adapt its lifestyle with potential nocturnal habits or other such wonderful mechanisms. The problem with this is they take several millions of years to randomly mutate and become widespread in the genepool and the chances of that happening before the species has sweltered itself out of existence are slim. What those organisms don't do is spend a handful of millenia growing their species and then invent the fucking air-con unit. This is what makes humans humans, the ability of cognitive, as opposed to genetic, adaptation - through a process not too dissimilar to natural selection - our numbers act as time and our ideas as mutations, there are enough of us throwing our random ideas into the mix and every now and then one works out well and takes off.

I'm sure you will agree that this is absolutely astounding. For the religious minded this could be proof of mankind's divinity and to the scientifically minded it is amazing in its own right and to all people in between, pick a damn side already. But all is not well in Human Land. You see, when you evolve cognitively beyond the means of your body, certain vestigial artifacts remain. By all accounts these are the scourge of modern society. Things like a weakness to pathogens, the inability to continue doing things without needing to sleep, the always intrusive desire to mate and procreate, and, of course, stress and depression.

"WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO BE DEPRESSED ABOUT!?" 'They' shout. 'They' being those seemingly immortal and ever-working gits who presuppose that because you happen to exist in a society where most things can be and often are handed to you on a plate you shouldn't feel unhappy. These annoying bastards have no compassion, and what need is there for compassion in a world where you can selfishly get everything you ever wanted?

Stress, depression, anxiety. Three things which plague me and that, for a long time I wondered why. I know why, shit happens in my life, my body tells me it's fucked up and I respond. The thing is, a lot of people think that if you fix the body everything's fine. It isn't. That's the desire for human technological advancement talking. That's the presupposition of happiness talking. I get stressed for many reasons, life really pisses me off. I'm not laid back about it, from stuff on the news to just the way someone is acting when I'm out and about there are plenty of things that set me into stress mode and I get aggressive when stressed. This is because my body releases lots of chemicals to let me know this stuff irritates me and to prepare me to confront it - It's all perfectly natural. The idea of some doctor trying to thrust a pill on me to reduce that is the equivalent of someone giving severing the nerves in your hand because of your habitual stove burn problem. Your hand still gets charred, you just don't feel it. Those feelings, that we arbitrarily and unfairly designate as 'negative' are the vestiges of exceptionally useful mechanisms in the past. Stress and anxiety instinctive action. Depression has many potential benefits in a 'wild' scenario, including an increase propensity to risk averse actions - dispelling the stereotype of the self-destructive depressive in many cases the thoughts and actions are intended to preserve. These are not the problems of today, but the remains of the solutions of yesterday. It is not some people moving too slow that is the problem, but that humans have advanced too fast and forgot where it is they are supposed to be. There's a big, wild world out there and in that, my mind works better than some jacked up loud gobshite telling me I'm a damn burden! 

I'm tired of people telling me to numb myself because it suits them. Whether it be by working my arse off, or taking pills, or doing yoga and drinking wheatgrass or whatever ridiculous goddamn cureall someone is touting this time. The problems don't go away, and I'm well aware of it. Why then am I always led to believe I am imperfect when I am as nature intended? My stress isn't caused by the simple things, it's caused by the complex ones. My anxiety is not about what it should be about - It's a response to danger intended to initiate a fight-or-flight response - instead, it's caused by fear of the entirely unnatural artifice in which I live. I don't get depressed because there's something wrong with me. I always have been, and will continue to have bouts of being, depressed because there's something wrong with my environment! Whether it be a person, a place, a way of doing things, a way I am treated. You can't take a pill for that, you just need to stop acting like a dick and that's fucking hard to do in a world where you can apparently get everything you ever wanted by acting like a dick! So the cycle continues until such time as, eventually, the anxious and depressed are bred out of the population by a world that rejects anyone who isn't perfectly at ease with a world full of arms dealers, corrupt politicians, state vs civilian espionage, lies, inequality, abuse, famine, disease, selfishness, war, Miley Cyrus and everyone always talking about Breaking Bad. (N.B. Last two items on the list are somewhat less severe than the others)

A Review of 'The Ancestor's Tale' by Richard Dawkins

I have, at many times during reading, pondered whether this were truly a non-fiction book - for the tales within it are so fantastical, so disturbingly improbable, so amazing, alien, twisted and trippy that surely this could not be real? Yet it is real, and so I made my journey, guided all the way via Dawkin's surprisingly easy to read style, from the present day, back on an ancestral journey that makes BBC's 'Who Do You Think You Are?' look as embarrassingly tedious and self indulgent as it is...

'The Ancestor's Tale' takes the reader on a trip from the present day arrogance and hubristic anthropocentrism, through a series of humblings, back to the last universal common ancestor, and the dawn of life itself. These humblings come in the form of 'concestors', the last common ancestor of ourselves, and those species who join us on our backwards pilgrimage to the dawn of life. Why do I say humblings? Because this is a tome that will remind you how, in the scale of things, human beings are mere infants on this journey of life, yet ones who have been veritably blessed by the workings of evolution - something we would do well to have better awareness of. There is a point, clearly stated and reiterated at many times throughout the book, that any consideration of 'higher' or 'lower' organisms is a bit of a misnomer. We have all, successfully, made our respective ways, via various common ancestors, through around 4 billion years of time. There should be equality and camaraderie in that!

But, enough of my cynical, misanthropic biologist's fanwank. Let's talk about the author. Well, it must be said that Richard Dawkins is a man who divides opinion. However, why does he divide opinion? It is mainly due to his stance on religion (a rational one, it must be said) and the way he puts his message across. Well, for this book, regardless of whether you like Dawkins or not, you can cast those aspersions to one side. Aside from a few sly digs, which seem more humorous than anything else, Dawkins does little in the way of religious polemics here. Indeed, reading it one can imagine a small boy discovering the world for the very first time! The style of writing is measured, yet excited; learned and well researched, yet with a naive and youthful curiosity. The passion the author has for the subject is so self evident, and moves you seamlessly from one amazing adventure to the next like you and he were old childhood pals exploring the woods together. I really did enjoy the style and you could wish for nothing more to accompany you through such an incredible journey.

And here is the other point on the writing style. Very little by the way of ego carries this book. While Dawkins will interject with anecdotes and experiences of his own, it is not these that provide the drive. Dawkins, it seems, has quite rightly given himself a backseat and allowed the sheer wonder of life to carry its own story.

This story of life, it becomes quite clear, is not our story, though we have a part. This is not even the story of the myriad species that join us along the way as we shake hands at ancestral meetings. No. This is the story of something far greater and more all encompassing. The story of the gene. Dawkins sends us down through a roaring cascade of genetic diversity over eons, back to that point when something - though there is contention as to what - first self-replicated. From such humble and biochemical beginnings did it all spring and this book gets that message across in ways that are entertaining and amusing.

I recommend all buy this book, for the simple fact that someone has gone to great lengths to write your genetic autobiography for you and it would be rude not to at least check it out.

One final note, I shall leave on. Reading this book reminds me why I have a desire to understand the world around me, and the life upon it. For those who don't know I am currently at university studying natural science, thus I am hugely involved with biology, to the extent I have invested financially in it! But, when I try to explain things in biological terms to people, they shy away. I have been accused of removing the 'magic' from things. Of being 'too scientific'. And I have been bombarded, time and again, with that hackneyed quote from Horatio in Hamlet!

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

I happen to agree with this quote. There are more things in heaven and earth than can be dreamed in any pursuit of thought, whether scientific, philosophical, or both. I am glad of this, for it means there are always new discoveries, always new things to be found and understood, always new questions to be answered, always new lines of research and new theories to be tested. For some, the 'magic' of life is not removed by an understanding of them. For some, life is not destroyed by breaking it down into its composite parts and doing our best to understand how each works, often intricately with other pieces. Indeed, the 'magic' of life is not destroyed, but rather enhanced. Curiosity did not, as is told, kill the cat, you can check the phylogenetic trees, the felidae are alive and well. But the superstition, ignorance and irrationality of human minds has killed cats, and other animals, and other humans. Indeed, it is proposed we are in the midst of an extinction event that could rival those from pre-history, and this one is mainly anthropogenic - We are to blame. Now, more than ever, an understanding of the natural world and our humble place in it is key. So fear not the lack of 'magic' in life, read 'The Ancestor's Tale' and see the magic is well and truly there, and that life, like all good magicians, is willing to reveal her tricks if we only have the curiosity.

**Google Shopping Link for 'The Ancestor's Tale' by Richard Dawkins**

Age Before Beauty

'Respect your elders!' they say with a stern finger-wag and a harsh stare.

But, I think surely I need no forgiving for suggesting this is perhaps a generation whereby respect for elders is not something that should be a given. Most people will tell you respect is something to be earned, not merely given arbitrarily and this should be no more truthful than in the youth of today.

"RESPECT YOUR ELDERS!" your mother may say after a particular argument. It is not unrealistic, indeed I'd say it would be rather logical to respond with a long, world-weary "Why?"

The elders of today's young people have sold their futures down the river. Whether that be literally, by dumping pollutants into the rivers and waterways of the world, expelling them into the air and then formulating plans on how to deal with it that consist of little more than "We'll do what we can now, and let the future pick up the slack..." or whether it be more figuratively in an economic system built on debt where the previous generation have bought everything on hock and stiffed the young with the tab in the form of a massive economic collapse resulting in reduced opportunity for those young people, yet an increased likelihood of harder work than the previous generations had to do with regards to patching it up..."Respect your elders!" suddenly seems an intangible request.

I am a reasonably young man, but as with anyone I am not getting any younger and see how with the advancing in years and addition of responsibility human beings are capable of losing sight of quite how what they say and do, from an individual, to a global collective level, can have a huge impact on the lives of others - particularly the younger generations. There is something of an irrational assumption that older equals wiser. In some cases there may be some element of truth in this, but what is also likely is that experiences gained, far from making us wiser as human beings can make us spiteful, twisted, jaded and selfish. I would not say these are positive things. I would not say these are wise. The wise people, they work through those things. Process their thoughts and feelings in such fashion as that spite, twistedness, jading and selfishness are eradicated from their thoughts and all they are left with is a better understanding of the world and how to improve it...But these people are the minority. These people are to be respected. But "Respect your elders!" is too much of a general comment. There should be no inherent respect of age, merely of action. Those who have filled their sadly ever-advancing years with good actions surely deserve respect. Those who have filled it with society and trifles probably not so much. It's not that they're bad people, just that maybe they have to work a bit harder for the respect of young people. Sadly, many young people do look up to elders who waste their time with society and trifles - particularly when they get paraded on endless reality TV shows spouting nonsense...

Sorry if this is all a little disjointed...It's more of a...thought exercise than a blog.

The upshot of it is, the more I look around and try to find my place in a world that no longer deems me a member of the youth, the more I realise the older generations rarely try to shape the world for the future. Like leaving a pile of washing up by the sink, the predominant philosophy is "I'll get around to it later!" but later in geopolitical terms is a different thing to washing up - and impacts, to much negativity, on our offspring. Some may see this as some kind of rite of passage. Young people should have to work hard, they're not entitled to anything! ...Well they are fools. Yes, young people should have to work hard. But not because we left them with a hell of a mess to clean up! Provided with ability and opportunity, human beings WORK - it's what we do, from the most 'primitive' of cultures, to the most advanced. The 'entitlement' and 'apathy' that so many criticise is most likely a product of the idea that young people should "Respect their elders!" and thus, clean up their mess! It is also a byproduct of a world that has been left in such a state by 'their elders' that it is bereft of opportunity for many - who are told they are lazy, scum, animals, plebs, an underclass. When you are told this, and made to feel this by various social factors, well it becomes somewhat a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

"Respect your elders!" They made bad political decisions, swap between one useless political shower of shite and another, screw up the economy, rob you of opportunity, mess up your environment, refuse to change even when change is necessary, think too much of themselves and call you lazy when you protest about having to clean up the mess of a world they left behind for you. Respect your elders.

With hindsight, every time my mother asked me to tidy up my room I should have replied "Only when you help me tidy the world." 

Mercer's Fashion Tips!

Fashion has been with us for millenia. That interesting cultural phenomenon of making sure you look good, smell nice and can generally fit in is considered by many to be somewhat intrinsic to the human experience. New decades and centuries bring new developments in fashion. Sometimes old fashions spring back up in later years in retro, or revival styles. It really is quite (not really) fascinating.

Some fashions are written, weaved seamlessly into religious or institutional doctrines. This is done in order to provide an order to a certain group of people. Some cynics may suggest this is done as a psychological exercise, providing a sense of uniformity that better indoctrinates people to conform and identify with their own group as opposed to others. But we don't listen to cynics, do we? Some fashions are unwritten rules, sub-dividing a culture into different groups...usually for much the same purposes as the aforementioned written rules! Ultimately, it all comes down to fucking anyway, as this peacockish fashion show continues with us all in the vain hope of passing on our genes to a new generation of ultimately shallow, doomed fuckups.

Being as I am now cast adrift among the well coiffed, well dressed and well off youth, I feel it as somewhat of an obligation to discuss current fashions and trends and give you some tips on how to get ahead in the world of fashion!

FASHION!

I shall start at the very top...

Hair

Scientific evidence has shown that hair are your aerials, picking up signals from the cosmos. That's either science or Withnail and I, I don't quite remember. But either way, you have hair, I have hair, bald people don't, but they make that a style of their own, somehow, anyway.

There are many ways to have your hair. A plethora of styles, shapes and colours natural and artificial. But I shall go over only the most important.

Short

If your hair is short, brush it or comb it in the morning...Then leave it. It's not getting in the way, does not obscure your vision and you can't see how ridiculous it looks. Other people can, however if the most important part of the human experience is, for them, how much product and in what style you hold your hair, these people are not worth knowing.

Long 

If you hair is long, brush it in the morning, and put it out of the way. For much the same reasons as above.

This concludes Mercer's fashion tips on hair. Next...

Clothing

Some argue that clothing is not natural, and that wandering around with your genitals on show to the world is the way nature intended. These people misinterpret nature. Clothing can be very practical for two reasons, one of course is that it can be quite cold and nature (who art so perfect....) has deemed it that some species of ape should develop without a thick fur. As a result, humans often have to wear clothes for warmth. Of course the other reason is that we are all hideously insecure about our bodies and do not want others seeing our floppy, worn-slipper like breasts, misshapen testicles, tiny penises and various hairy, cellulite covered wobbly bits. In this case, wearing clothes rather helps prevent anxiety and this can only be a good thing.

So, Mercer's fashion tip for clothes...Wear clothes. The shape, style, price, brand, and cultural associations of what you wear should be pretty irrelevant, so long as you're warm and not insecure.

That concludes Mercer's fashions tips on clothes! Next...

Jewelry

Having been around since ancient times, jewelry is an important part of showing you're a rich git showing off the shiny possibly to make up for the fact that your personality does not sparkle so much as old rocks and polished metals. Some people even see fit to put holes in themselves to put more shiny in them. Therefore, jewelry is pointless, and should not be worn at any time.

"But what about wedding rings/sentimental pieces?" I hear your cry, clutching your precious metal bands and chains. Nope, not even those. If the greatest symbol of your love for another human being is a band of metal you're probably doing it wrong, and if you have sentimental pieces they are more likely to be saved from being lost or stolen if you keep them tucked away somewhere to be dragged out only for occasions of reminiscence.

That concludes Mercer's fashion tips on jewelry! Next...

Shoes

They say you can tell a lot about a man by his shoes, such as "What shoes is he wearing?" or "has he been walking in mud?" Some people choose to wear ridiculously impractical shoes because they look good, whilst failing to recognise that shoes serve a very useful, practical purpose in foot protection during everyday activity. Thus, wear comfortable, practical shoes to avoid ankle and knee problems, or possibly even sciatic nerve issues, or lower back pain due to bad posture due to bad shoes.

That concludes Mercer's fashion tips on shoes.

So, in summary; 

Brush/comb your hair, wear clothes, don't wear jewelry, wear comfortable, practical shoes.

Following Mercer's fashion tips could save you a fortune in annual income that you could spend on more important things, like buying your soul back from various aspirational glossy magazines. 

On Returning

The last time I was at this establishment I was a wreck. To say I was a shadow of my former self implies, in clichéd fashion, that there was a former self to be. I do not think I was anyone in those days, nor did I feel like I was anyone. I was not there. Now, I return, triumphantly it could be said, after a hiatus of two years, and I see mirrors of myself wandering the lichen laden concrete pathways. A lifestyle as hardy as the moss, that perpetuates despite increasingly tougher conditions.

After a two year break, following a near three year battle with mental illness, I am finally back at university. The completion of my studies, once a seemingly impossible dream, now seems ever more likely as, step by step, I somehow survive, even thrive, and grow  more comfortable into the academic scene I left all those years ago as an anxious, panicked, depressive husk.

I was a slightly more mature student to begin with. Turning up with a spring in my step and a few years extra life experience over my colleagues. Now I feel like an old man, advanced only a couple of years in age, but decades in experience. But, back then, I could still have fun, I could socialise. Not out of any talent or necessity, but out of insecurity. I would drink not as a social exercise in fun, but out of an essential urge to be intoxicated. Alcoholism would have been a term I probably held in the back of my mind, but would pass over, merely claiming I was 'joining in' or 'enjoying the campus experience'. Of course, these lies are something most alcoholics tell themselves at some point. The hollow mental whisperings of denial that keep us on that easy path of never confronting the real issues, but simply masking them with the forgetful, heady airs, graces and feelings of booze.

I see, drifting among the towering stone structures, individuals finally cut free of their umbilical ties and whose first instinct seems to be to make noise, mess and their livers explode. Where once I would have joyfully joined, now I merely wince in pain and curse these people, not out of malice towards them, but out of projection. Out of a loathing not of them, but of me and the past that I consider such a mistake.

Do I envy their youth? Of course. Do I envy their lifestyle? Of course. Do I envy the freedom with which they can enjoy themselves free from the trappings of their own, ever mumbling, minds? Definitely. But at the same time I must accept we are different, them and I. We have different backgrounds, different experiences, different lives and different desires. I see their alcohol fueled social gatherings and their merriment and I feel slight envy, yes. I must also, though, reflect on the fact that I have had my time. It did not go well, and I wish I could have enjoyed it more. But I had my time to do what they are doing and now I must move on.

Now, instead of pondering when I shall have time to frequent the bar, I ponder when I shall have time to frequent the library. Instead of looking forward to meeting new people with whom to drink and make merry, I look forward to meeting new questions, new challenges, new areas of interest in my subject and hopefully those to share it with me.

My mind has been whirring away trying to work out what is a genuine insecurity. Am I now an old man? I stay in, I read, I chat to those important to me, I go to bed early, I wake up early, I cook good food, I eat healthily, I take care of myself - mostly in isolation. The kind of redundant tedium we would generally associate with middle age appears to be my lot at the moment. "Am I now an old man?" I ask myself. It has taken a while to come to a conclusion, but the answer is no. I am merely a much more experienced young one, with different needs to these youths who so immerse themselves in indulgence. I am here to indulge my mind, and enrich my life, not indulge my body and enlarge my liver.