Archive for the ‘On-line journal’ Category

Preferably, today won’t be like yesterday and just total chess. At some point I am going to take a closer look at some very recent posts. I don’t know who I am talking to in them, and that is not right at all. You don’t need to be able to define your audience but developing a voice matters, and when that voice is pitching a message to unknown characters, something is definitely wrong.

It would appear I shall have to pull back and take a look at what is going on here because if the purpose for writing remains unidentifiable what are you writing for in the first place?

Just perhaps I have become too self-indulgent and need to give it a break. refocus and stop trying to make everything humorous. I think we can safely say overkill is rapidly approaching.

That aside, I very subtly pick up on a sense of loneliness in play…I am trying to talk to someone but who?

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There’s focus, there’s amusement, there’s hilarity, and there’s self-indulgence. I am guilty of all this week but most of all the latter, which you could argue is the sum of the three parts before it. Why? Simply put I can’t express the total amusement I had over the posts regarding shrines a few days back, and in truth I’ve been in love with my blog since then, or at least in love with the idea that more humour would follow on, which it did. Irrespective of how amusing you think I may or may not be, I consider myself to be very funny at times and have been on form all week.

As wonderful and refreshing as that may be, it saddens me as I type, so much so that something has to change with immediate effect for the simple reason that in the past few days I have neglected my daughter, along with everything else in this world. And that is unacceptable because I have very little time left with her before I return to work. It is true that I spoke very little to her today -now that cannot be allowed to go on.

Fewer posts may follow this week or perhaps they won’t. Perhaps the time of writing will change from daylight hours to evening hours, as is the case at this very present. She lies next to me asleep in this cold dark room. Everyone is sleeping except myself. Of the 4 people sharing this space, 2 of them have Covid, it has been confirmed. Inevitably I will pick it up if I haven’t already. Something is wrong already, I can tell but cannot quite tell what it is yet. But that is immaterial… .

A cardinal sin has been committed and I am disappointed with myself for letting it happen. Because of the very nature of who I am, it’s my job to know myself exceptionally well. That I do because I have to. I’ve always been obsessive, today is just one more example of that, and a very cheery one in certain respects, saddening in others. One of hardest things of the job of remaining human and one step ahead of humanity for the most part, is accepting your own values and the vulnerability they bring with them. I love my daughter too much to allow such mistakes to be made and not picked up upon so quickly. Yes it’s not a crime to make yourself happy and love what you do but it is a crime to forget what is most important of all.

Mark: ‘you’re giving me a hard time, what am I supposed to do with a hard time, especially from you?’ You are supposed to remain in love with A Flock of Seagulls playing and stop beating yourself up. No harm has been done, just precious time wasn’t seen as precious. The flip side of all that is you’ve had 6 solid weeks of company and have, in my own little way, grown fond of and very used to it.

What I have to conclude upon is I will forever be an academic with conclusions forefront in my thinking, in addition, I took my love of writing to a new level recently. The content about the guy who smashed up a shrine had me chuckling away for days there. I was entertaining myself like never before and brought many online friends into the humour on different platforms as I could not hide my joy, I really couldn’t. There are no morbid tales here, just a disappointment with myself for allowing priorities to be reordered temporarily. So Grace goes back to being the primary focus, and writing stays secondary. I should not write in the day anymore, that’s her time not my time. Whilst they sleep, well that’s different.

This is what I am supposed to do? The way that you smile reveals a shadow from the past or so the song goes, oh well. What I am supposed to do now is link a song. Can you guess what it is and who it’s by?

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Laos won their first match of the Olympiad today, beating Central African Republic 3-1. That’s a big well done for them.

I hope it brings happiness to whoever follows them back in the capital.

Laos must surely be the freest Communist country in the world.

Many like it because it is so open.

I do too and always go

by bike.

Vang Vieng, so often rained when I was there. Vang Vieng is a very good example of what can happen if law is not enforced and life itself is considered cheap. Those who went there looking for what it had to offer still today constitute the most repulsive bunch of backpackers imaginable. Between 2000-2010, it was one place not to be, and I simply cannot say why on this website. The hardest thing about living in Asia is understanding why they place so little value on life itself, and in Vang Vieng Westerners thrived off the lack of rules there. Truly, truly awful. No one cared about anything except their next drink at the bar, the next high or next thrilling river ride. One Englishman wanting to impress announced how he would be doing back-flips at the bar in one, whilst others just stared at you to decide if you were in with their crowd or not. Too much of a loner and too unpretentious by far, I never got involved, I never gave eye contact, I just fucked off the first chance I got to leave it’s own little crowd alone, trapped in its own little time-warp almost. Perhaps the only danger Laos has is it attracts people you would much rather avoid, and plenty of them too. Pseudo hippy, pseudo cool school wimps I used to knock fuck out of when I was younger. If you don’t dress the part, look cool hanging out, and get excited over river rides, then you aren’t in, and are blanked or snubbed. With nothing ingratiating about your behaviour, you just aren’t in I’m afraid, and so we’re not going to talk to you or even look at you. That is the class of backpacker you will find in Vang Vieng. My advice -don’t fucking go there or if you do just talk with your fists.

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Upon reflection, if I visited a site such as this, I would want to get to know more about the author in some shape or form. Well I do try but I don’t really make that possible because of the lay out style I have chosen (although the side bars are clearly there to offset that). I haven’t made a name for myself in chess so slotting me into the overall scheme of things mean I come out as just another chess enthusiast/addict with a blog all his own. But that simply won’t do as so many are in the same boat, thousands in fact. So I shall break rank and enable you to put a face to the posts, so you can see who is writing (this rubbish) this humorous if often inward looking content. This is an attempt at personification of the site, and you could argue that all sites should show similar intentions now and again. A chess player I may be, and the subject of the site is chess but it is called McCreadyandChess, so pics of my life beyond the board are not beyond the parameters of what it was designed for.

I’ll add some photos from facebook, taken over the years but you should know I used to be a photographer and so some pics reflect the creativity I was once noted for, but only a few. The rest depict the colourful life I have ended up with to some degree but they barely scratch the surface tbh and there’s nothing I can do about that. I put the pics in gallery form, so you can just click on them and scroll along. Maybe they give a clearer sense of who is writing or something. The title of the site does the job here I think.

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A newer update

To restate the obvious, the title of this website is McCreadyandChess. This means you will get my interpretations of chess related content, some of which is factual, or there will be personal stuff, usually chess related although not always. So McCreadyandChess could be thought in those terms and as I have restated enough times I NEVER write to be read. The general shift in direction is towards personal stuff, as I have lead a colourful life and I love to write. Combine the two and the temptation to put pen to paper is always there. Like it says in the side headings, on the whole the site is becoming increasingly more inward looking. You could also argue that I am becoming increasing disappointed with/cynical of both chess journalism and chess theory as a literary genre, so you won’t see much of either of those from now on most likely.

I was thinking of introducing non-chess related content, starting with ‘Bird Wrestling’ but have decided against that as it doesn’t fit into what was said in the previous paragraph but since I am always on-line I cannot promise that things which make me crack up laughing for a good day or two won’t find their way in. We have seen that of late with the guy who visited a shrine and I can’t promise we won’t again but the humour levels will, in my opinion, be way above normal, so I hope for forgiveness, and always hope that whoever comes to my site, their first thoughts are ‘what the bloody hell is all this’ and leave with ‘what was all that about’. Ultimately, if someone leaves with a wry smile -that’s good!

In the months before I temporarily agreed to become a photographer by profession (not recommended) in the UAE, I played about endlessly with Photoshop CS2. Here is a picture of myself from that time.

Sci-fi me from Abu Dhabi
It just so happens that my life online remains dominant over my life offline.

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Your game has only just finished. With your opponent you courteously enter the analysis room for a look at the game. You sit down together and it starts normally, then suddenly you have a massive panic attack. Visions of shrines, demons, and the wrong lottery numbers, overpower your mind and run riot within it. Flustered and emotionally charged, you jump up and start shouting in another language. You can’t think straight nor think about your game anymore. Many people are alarmed and stop what they are doing, some children look scared almost. Some minutes pass before emotions are held in check again, then it happens again. The same visions return but this time there are extra visions of being tasered by police too, as well as many bottles of booze. It causes you to have another panic attack rendering analysis impossible. Your walk becomes a limp, your head a mess. Your opponent doesn’t know what’s happening and asks what is wrong. What should you say and do?

Ride out the storm. Yes more panic attacks are coming because the visions reappear but we can ride it out.

Or you could bring the analysis to an early end as it isn’t getting me anywhere.

Or you could decide not to invest time and money in the lottery anymore.

Or you could emigrate to Russia and become an alcoholic.

Could you re-alter your sense of time somehow and perhaps avoid being tasered…oh and don’t smash anything else up.

Maybe go for therapy and go on medication?

Now look at this, I’ve got to finish this post up. I’m getting visions of visions which are warping into my own sense of humour.

Last option: make tea not war!

M.J.McCready 0607 August 2

A dark room in a big city.

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I so nearly forgot that tragedy lurks round every corner and can’t be avoided indefinitely. Regarding the lottery, in the mid 90s there was a very tragic case where a young man killed himself because of the lottery. He spent time wondering whether to spend one pound on a valentine’s card for his girlfriend or putting it on the lottery. He chose not to play the lottery that week but his numbers came in and he would have won. But he spent that money on a card and got so angry with himself, he killed himself. A real tragedy I heard over the radio. Sympathies for his family… .

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You are on an old bus lost somehow somewhere in the countryside. You are not thinking about your destination, more so what you see passing by in the windows. The sky is grey, you feel a little sleepy. Suddenly the bus swerves then brakes hard. You turn around to see what’s happened and catch a glimpse of a shrine that passes by. Your head begins filling with chess moves and chess games from yesteryear. Moves from games gone by repeat over and over. The bus stops to allow a beautiful girl to get on. Religious enlightenment doesn’t occur, just more moves repeat themselves. Do you stay on the bus or jump off it, risking certain death?

You stay on the bus and nothing else happens. The girl got off, you arrived at your destination and your head is no longer full of moves and games from yesteryear. But your trousers have got a hole in them? How did it happen on a bus? They are torn, the sky is still grey.

What happens of that day is not worth writing about. You passed a shrine and nothing much really happened. Alone, you walk on home. No one will talk to me because no one is there. Alone I got ready for bed. Then I sat wondering if I would spend my entire life feeling alone. And then went to bed.

Well done for not doing anything. That means nothing but nothing is good. Nothing got smashed up. Nothing.

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Let’s say you are playing for the county. It’s a Saturday morning and you are in Newmarket, Turner Hall. You are in the middle game and putting up a good fight on the board. Would you get up from your chair whilst your opponent is thinking, walk out of the hall, to a newsagent and put a lottery ticket on in the middle of the game? How would you chose the numbers or have they been communicated to you already?

Would you do that in a county game? I wouldn’t. I’d lose concentration on my game and get done over. No malarkey for county matches. That’s pure chess. No lottery tickets, just chess and only chess. And anyway that town is famous for horse racing, a lot of those lanes are used as bridle paths and stink the place up with horseshit. I don’t want that on my shoes when I am trying to concentrate over the board and win for my team! Fuck that lottery bollocks, some other day maybe. End up with a horseshit sandwich otherwise…ah fuck that bollocks. No lottery and that’s final.

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If you were playing competitive chess and then in the opening you are contacted by spirits, they tell you about your game and expected moves but everything they say is false and doesn’t happen, would you smash the clock up if it carried on? A professional player would smash that clock up but an amateur might just get up and walk around. If it were me and I was being told of moves that never happen again and again, I’d smash the clock up yes. Yes I would because they might go away then. But I would have to go to the bar first and get lagered up real fast, then you could really smash that clock up.

Tune in again for more professional advice.

MJM 2.47am

August 2nd.

A dark room in the capital

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