Crush Addiction And How You Can Help by Allen Miles


We live in an age where addiction is a problem that many of us will witness close-hand; it is possible that you have a friend or loved one who has fallen prey to alcohol or substance abuse, maybe even you yourself have, and I’m sure you’ll agree that it can ruin lives. So many times, the sparkle in a young pair of eyes has been killed by a friend or acquaintance pressuring an innocent soul by saying “try a bit of this,” or “don’t worry you can handle it, have a taste.” I care deeply about these problems in society, and I am writing tonight on behalf of my colleagues and I to warn and hopefully prevent you and your loved ones being consumed by the latest plague to stalk the land. It is called Candy Crush Saga, or “Crush,” to give it it’s street name.

Crush is a digitally administered drug, consumed through the eyes. It is fiercely addictive, widely available, and the most terrifying thing about it is, it’s completely free. It can cause loss of concentration, slurred speech, obliviousness to one’s surroundings, headaches and lethargy. As with most drugs, Crush dealers prey on the weak and vulnerable in our communities, in this case mainly women in their thirties and forties who are bored with interacting with their partners and/or hate their jobs. In common with many drug epidemics, the desperate state of the current social and economic climate has exacerbated many people’s need for Crush.

I myself have spent the last year watching my wife spiral into a heart-breaking decline in the vice-like grip of Crush addiction, and I hope and pray that I can pull her out of it before she is lost to me completely. It is now a common occurrence for me to ask her a question or attempt to start a conversation only to be greeted by silence of up to one or two minutes until she looks up at me, glassy-eyed and slack-jawed and murmurs “What?”

A close friend of mine recently reported that his partner had claimed to be very tired and went upstairs to bed much earlier she normally would have done. Tragically he found her sat up in bed hours later, in the middle of yet another Crush binge. This is the behaviour that is wrecking lives. Just the other day I came home from work to find my wife doing Crush in the corner of our front room, while my 22 month-old daughter had stripped to her nappy, adorned herself with some sort of tribal warpaint and spent the last few hours “hunting the cat” with a plastic Fisher Price tentpole. I still don’t know how she managed to start a camp fire in the kitchen.

I have even seen Crush addiction in the workplace on a massive scale. Most days, I can walk into the coffee room in my department during any given lunch hour to find any number of my colleagues sat round with their hand-held devices out, like a communal heroin shooting-gallery. I have tried to talk to them, to help them face what they have become, but I receive nonsensical and bizarre responses. I will give examples but I can’t use the addicts’ full names, obviously.

Ali P: “Does your missus play Crush cos I need lives.”

Debbie M: “I’m not addicted I only… every… what?”

Heather B: “Ey?”

These people are medical professionals. This sickness has to be cured before it ruins our country. I can’t pretend I have an intimate knowledge of the drug itself, but in the interest of helping people who maybe worried that someone close to them is becoming dependant on Crush, here’s what to look out for:

1) There are different methods of intake, which seemingly run parallel with the methods of taking heroin, where you have smoking, snorting and injecting. In the case of Crush, the “i-Phone” and “Android” methods are relatively controllable, whereas the “i-Pad” method is the equivalent of intravenous heroin use, and by far the most dangerous.

2) There are what users refer to as “levels,” which seems to be the severity of each individual’s addiction. For example if a user is at level 3 or 4, there may still be hope that they can be saved. If a user is at level 70 or 80, then only supervised rehabilitation can have any affect. In many cases they will announce which “level” they are at on social networking sites, where Crush communities seem to be flourishing.

3) There seems to be some sort of slang involved, which the lay community hasn’t quite worked out yet. For example, it may flash up on your facebook feed from time to time that one user “gave life” to another. Should anyone reading find out what this means, please use the contact below with any information you have. You could, in a very real sense, save lives.

4) Check your plug sockets. If there is a charger plugged in and switched on with nothing attached to it, you may have an addict in your house.

5) There seems to be a similar drug on the market called “Bubble Witch.” Again, research and intelligence is in an embryonic stage, but should you hear of anything they you think maybe of help to our project please use the contact below.

6) There are signs. Watch out for the constant rubbing of the wrists. Check bank statements for very small transactions as there are apparently things you can do to enhance the Crush experience for a few pence. We’re not quite sure what but we have our best men on it. Above all, as with all mind-numbing narcotics, watch out for a distracted, paranoid manner, incomprehensible speech and a lethargic attitude.

Please help conquer this vile epidemic, it is breaking up marriages, ruining careers and destroying lives. I hope the information I have given will alert you to this problem.

If you can help, please contact this website at the first possible opportunity. the email is

Thanks. We’ll do what we can.


profile b and wAllen Miles is 31 years old and lives in Hull. He is married and has a 23 month-old daughter who is into The Ramones. He is a staunch supporter of Sheffield Wednesday FC and drinks far too much wine. He spends most of his spare time watching old football videos on youtube and watching 1940s film noir. He is the author of This Is How You Disappear, which is widely recognized to be the best book ever written. It is available here.

Andi Ware: On Refusing to ‘Tweet’

It was with great regret and a heavy heart that I learned of the death of Baroness Thatcher this week.  This was because I learned about this momentous occasion via the medium of Facebook. Yes, I first heard about the death of the last great truly despised figure of the Western word because someone I met during an evening class ten years ago made an ‘amusing’ comment on Facebook. Busy writing Lesson Plans and Schemes of Work I decided to take a break from my computer screen and skip over to the office kitchen to make a coffee. Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil I slipped my phone out of my pocket and browsed Facebook to find that a virtual friend had decided to share his wit with the rest of the world and in doing so ruin a sense of occasion that I was entitled to. The death of Margaret Thatcher is something that one should learn about on Radio 4 or in the pages of the Guardian. It is an occasion that deserves the commentary of a true professional skilled in the art of news delivery. Needless to say the individual who ruined my occasion is now dead to me. I immediately de-friended him and he now floats around in the deep, rich black void that is not being able to count me as one of his Facebook friends.

To prevent tragedies like this from ever happening again I urge all readers to think before you post. Due to the immediacy of the internet when you make a comment about something as huge as the death of Margaret Thatcher on Facebook or Twitter you could be relaying the news to someone for the very first time. That individual will never get that moment back. For example in twenty five years whenever I am asked where I was when I heard that Margaret Thatcher had died I will have to grimace and say that I was reading some comments on Facebook whilst waiting for a kettle to boil. Other people may have been on the toilet. If you are moved to comment on something like the death of Maggie then at least have the integrity to write it as thoroughly and eloquently as my fellow poster Paul Featherstone. I only wish that it was by reading a piece of writing such as this that I had learned of the death of Thatcher.

The trouble is that through Twitter and Facebook the idiot is almost validated. When their flippant and juvenile comments appear in printed text on our screens they become that much more concrete. This is augmented by the fact that we live in a culture that takes its Facebook and Twitter very seriously and with the invention of the Blackberry and tablet age Facebook and Twitter are very much part of us. Our hand sets are an extension of ourselves constantly in the palms of our hands. There are people for whom the world is the grey coloured border around the screen of their smart phones. There was once a simple and glorious time when there was a clear definition between our virtual activity and our cyber activity. However, due to our excessive use of the internet, especially Facebook and Twitter, the lines have been blurred.

Twitter is especially vulgar as it has created a world in which people comment on issues as varied as the crisis in Syria to the happenings on Geordie Shore all with a limit of 140 characters. To Tweet about an issue is to be value it and I would go as far as to say that Twitter is nothing more than a self-indulgent arena for the moron. That is, of course, not to say that all who Tweet are morons.

I am currently enjoying the new David Bowie album ‘The Next Day’. It is a truly unique record simply because its creator was not Tweeting about every bar of tambourine that was recorded. It was released without any prior announcement and this makes the music sound that little bit sweeter. Yes, Twitter has taken the mystery and magic out of popular culture (especially music). As an eighteen year old I can remember being obsessed with Radiohead. I would scour the pages of ‘Q’ magazine for any hints as to whether or not the band were in the studio, writing new material or planning further live dates. I stalked the band (not in the literal sense) like a hunter and it was absolutely exhilarating whenever a new album was released, a tour was announced or even when the tiniest nugget of information was discovered. But as I write this I know that I could log on to Twitter now and find out what Thom Yorke has eaten for breakfast. Twitter has taken the fun out of music for me through sheer over exposure.

So I shall not be Tweeting whenever I post something new on here. For those of you who are interested you will just have to exert the energy and find my posts on the site organically.

Xavier DwyerAndi Ware is 32 years-old and has a small dog called Oliver. He is a paid-up member of the Labour Party and used to play bass in semi-legendary Hull band Sal Paradise. In his spare time he makes his own wine and watches rugby league. He once claimed his favourite album was Electric Warrior by T.Rex, which was a complete lie. He holds a degree in Philosophy, but you’d already guessed that. You can find him at