British Politics

It's all a bit of a mess really, isn't it? Democracy isn't something we quite have our heads around and organisation is something we fail at. Following rules isn't something we're very good at either and those with power tend to make it all up as they go along. To anyone who doesn't know, yesterday was the day Britain attempted to vote for a government. Some people were sent the wrong polling cards. Some were sent away and told to come back later. Students in some places were put into a slow line whilst everyone else was fast tracked. Some places ran out of voting slips. I'm sure there were other signs of us crumbling to this failed attempt at change, but I can't remember and I'm in a rush so not going to look them up.

This is just a short post to voice my disappointment I guess.

I was thinking about all the tactical voting that goes on and how a lot of the time people vote for someone they doesn't want just so someone they want less don't win. People see voting for smaller parties as wasted votes. And some people don't even bother getting up to vote at all. This is all very disappointing. I think the polls leading up to the election are a bad idea. They give people an idea of how to go about voting tactically because they can see what things look like. Perhaps if these didn't exist, tactical voting would lessen and more people would vote for who they really want to see running things. Maybe the smaller parties would have a chance instead of it always being between the reds and the blues.

So now we're looking at a hung parliament and everyone is throwing in their two cents about what it all means. I don't know nearly enough about anything to really talk politics at you, so I'm not going to. Just sharing an observation that was grating at me a bit.

We have 5 years to discover what all this really means. Hopefully next time round we are all at least given the chance to actually vote.
You can see the full results here.

I hear the Torys and Lib Dems are going to maybe join forces to govern. Who knows, maybe this will actually work...

Beat Procrastination!

I know you've stumbled over here expecting me to give you the holy grail and help you beat procrastination with some sort of magic trick. Unfortunately for you, I am hoping that since you've stumbled over here already, you'd give me the gold and tell me how I can beat it myself.

Thing is, I know there are like, tricks. Like breaking things up into manageable chunks for example. This is one that I do myself. For my essays, I read the bits I need to read and make notes, then make an essay plan, then first draft, then finalise it all. Only, the first draft part stumps me. Starting essays makes me a little anxious and I avoid it like it's poison or something. Once I've started and the ball has a steady roll going on I'm fine and I can sit and write and save myself a tiny bit from the mound of work I have to get through. But it takes me days to start.

I literally sit staring at it for days. I leave the window open all the time, so I can see it while I'm doing other things. Like this for example... I go to start it off, but can't seem to find the right words so I take a break and do something else. A lot of time is spent playing with photo booth, see Exhibit A above.

It seems to the rest of the world (well, ish - depends where they're picking my projection up from) that I'm projecting this super hard working ethic and that I don't leave my room or the library for mass amounts of time to study. Only most of that time I'm not really doing much.

So help me out. How do I go about starting?

The irony of this all is, that the essay I'm trying to write is that same weakness of will one I mentioned last week. I guess I'm a little weak willed myself? I guess that maybe I agree with Aristotle on the matter then rather than Socrates in saying that people can in fact know what the right thing is and be able to do it but still do something else. We do the thing we want to do, as a matter of opinion. It's the possibility of the incontinent person, who knows what is good but does wrong anyway because they lack self control required to resist licentious behaviour. It isn't just about being ignorant of certain things like Socrates suggested. Humans form bad habits and are constantly tempted to take pleasure in the wrong sorts of activities (Aristotle believed pleasure was a great thing - unlike Plato - and that we take pleasure from the right sorts of things). Our intellect and rationality do not have full control of our every action.

If there is a wallet on the floor with £100 in it I bet most people would pocket the money. Some people might even thank a god or two for the gift. But is taking the money wrong? Aren't you meant to hand wallets into police stations or something if you find them? Do you feel guilty for it?

I don't know. I'll keep thinking on this. But I guess I just found the solution to that procrastination problem after all...

ShortStory: The Clone Next Door

I remember reading about them cloning that world famous sheep back in the 90’s. Scientists cloned the worlds first mammal that day in ‘96 and the world took heed. Science fiction fans were going crazy and conspiracy theorists were jumping off buildings to prevent having to live through the terrible future this would inevitably lead to. It was all a big deal. Only I remember being sat on the opening end of 2010 and wondering why the hell science hadn’t lived up to all our wild fantasies. Why nothing was really that spectacular and how this futuristic life we we're living in wasn’t really even touching our expectations.


Yeah, sure: YouTube in my pocket is great, but is it really Earth shattering? I remember reading about scientists growing pork from stem cells and thinking that was it!
They can cure world hunger!
They can save the world.
Only, this place is over populated enough and until we can start shipping people off to other planets then they can’t really fit us as it is, let alone start saving people.

So the people with the money decide they want more. They decide who is allowed to live and who is  allowed to die. Science runs on the premise of being good for the people, of discovering and understanding our world to better benefit our people. But maybe that’s just a lie, maybe they just want our money to fund experiments to discover things they’ll convince us we need so we spend more money buying it only to be told there’s something better.
Better.
Bigger.
More.
That’s just how we roll.

Jump ahead 35 years and not much has changed. It’s still about making as much money as possible and screwing over the little guy as much as you can. But now, they’ve wrangled permission on human cloning with ethical backing. If you have the money, you can have a double. It takes a while to grow and it’s more expensive than you could imagine, but it exists. And with it a new kind of power.

The clone is in effect your slave. Or ‘partner’ if you want to be nice to yourself. You dish out chores for it to complete, you send it to see people you don’t want to see, you have it commit a murder while you sit in a busy bar full of witnesses who can swear that you didn’t move all night.

But then there are the people like me, who don’t want to take advantage of our clone, just make use of him. So we split tasks up. Some days I get the fun things; some days the shit, but it’s balanced. I always thought the balance was important. The clone may well be an identical replica of me in every way; every cell. But as soon as it’s completed, it becomes a he and he is now having his own thoughts. We are now two separate thinking beings – incredibly connected, but equally as aware or sentient or rational or whatever else it is you want to ascribe to humanity.

They would put tags in the clones, so they could be told apart from us real people. So they could be tracked and controlled if they got out of hand. But there was never any trouble, they seemed to accept their role as a human play thing and people enjoyed the company.

It all just started with this one guy.
This seemingly innocent one guy. Really I should be saying boy, ‘cause this child was only 18. His daddy had bought him his very own clone for his 18th birthday to welcome in this shining new adulthood.

He was sat in his bedroom staring at himself. Talking, investigating, simply trying to get his head around the whole thing.

Best. Gift. Ever.
Kind of.

He touches the clone. The boy’s finger rolls over a lump. He checks the same spot on his own body almost instinctively but there isn’t a lump to match. He asks his clone if he knows, but he may as well have been asking himself. So he tells his obedient clone to stay still and he’ll help him find out. The boy pulls a switch blade out the top drawer of the desk in his room and prepares himself. He places the edge of the blade against the skin of his clone, who stares at him, terrified. He doesn’t want to be hurt but he suddenly realises he doesn’t actually have control. The clone realises they’ve done something to him, they’ve made him less than human.

He wants to pull away but he remains motionless on his original’s instruction to ‘stay still’. He cries out in pain as the blood gushes down his forearm and onto the blue carpet beneath him. A few drops land on the original’s shoes and he gets real angry. Starts shouting, telling the clone that he’s a ‘worthless piece of crap!’ and all sorts. Hits him round the face and catches him with the blade, that is still in his hand a little. More blood. His blood.

The boy reaches for some pliers from the floor near a pile of other tools, to pull whatever he’s found out of the clones arm. It’s tough at first and it’s more than just lodged into the clones body. The lump had been woven in, almost as though it were part of him. Part of the creation from the get go. The boy looks at it and discards it into his clones lap, before getting up to walk away. He calls his clone “Number Two” and tells him he can go to work for him tomorrow.

But see, Number Two is now alone in the room and picks up the discarded lump from his lap. He uses his other hand to touch the blood, still dripping from his arm where good old Number One cut into him. Slowly wiping away blood, then wiping the blood off his hands onto his jeans. Repeatedly. Wiping the blood from his cheek to his jeans. Repeatedly. But see, this was how it all began – well, how something began.

The next day Number Two was out and about, doing the tasks he was asked to do. While he was out he noticed something: most people doing things are actually the clones. The originals of the world have become lazy. Dependent on their duplicates to fulfil their daily routines so they can spend their time relaxing.

Our Number Two from earlier had made it his mission to secretly remove the lumps from other clones he came across, on the sly during the work day. He realised something changed when his came out and he wanted to help the other slaves of circumstance as he stood shoulder to shoulder with them in the battle field. The originals never paid them much attention, so it was easy enough to do. Now, no more traceable than an original itself, the clones were able to walk amongst the people. Undetected. As more and more of them had their lumps removed they started to become less and less obedient.

Men who saw themselves as owners would use violence on their clone to try to control it’s wild out bursts. As the days went on clones were being murdered in cold blood, but the murder of a science project wasn’t classed as an offence. Murderers were let off the hook, because they didn’t kill a real person; just one that we invented. It was only a matter of time before real people were being murdered but claims of mistaken identity had the killer back on the streets. After all, if someone is acting strangely, exhibiting clone like behaviour and such, how are we suppose to tell the difference? We can’t be held responsible.

As time went on, I watched as the chipless clones grew in number. They wanted ‘human’ status but were being refused such rights. They’re not humans! Just a bunch of human cells grown in a lab… Or at least that was the general consensus on the matter. Humanist protesters had called for a ban on cloning but were never listened to. And why would anyone have listened? These hippies were trying to get in the way of progress. Of evolution and science. No, instead these hippies were thrown in prisons just to keep them off the streets. They filled the court houses with clone workers who worked on shifts between each other. Stem cell grown pork and beef were on hand to keep the new wave of people fed. World hunger is still an issue, but only in those poor countries we haven’t bothered colonising yet. We on the other hand are sorted for life when it comes to food.

Some of these clones even started mating with each other, or even with real humans. Inter-human relationships were frowned upon though and often clones would be shunned by their own kind. They’d be forced into the shadows with the likes of me, hiding for the rest of our lives because we simply don’t know what else to do.

I was one of those damn scientists. Or at least that would be what you’d call me anyway, now that you can see what’s become of us. Those scientists who fought to be allowed to try and clone an entire human. It was just wide eyed curiosity to begin with, the way all scientists just want to know ‘what if?’ or ‘whether I can?’. That’s just how science works, you test the boundaries the universe seems to have in place. I was young and didn’t think science was enough, didn’t think we were moving fast enough into the future so I jumped on the bandwagon straight out of university.

The clones out number the originals maybe 6:1 these days and they have full control of everything.

But they’re just clones of humans… why is this not the same thing as there just being lots of humans around? It’s not like we can tell on looking at a person now is it?

I can tell you’re after answers. They know if they’re clones, they can tell. They remember realising they weren’t in full control and they remember cutting out that lump we created as part of them. The idea was that they could be controlled, culled into helping mankind into the future. Instead they have taken the future from us.

I’ve seen all this, but the most tragic thing of it all is that nothing looks that different. If you didn’t know already, you wouldn’t be able to tell that we were on the verge of extinction and to always watch your back. ‘Cause the clones are angry and they wont let us forget it. They now work in our labs and behind our desks. They found ways to enhance their own clones, who were grown a little taller or a little stronger. Who’s brains were a little bigger and a little more efficient.

We called it evolution when we had the power but now it’s more like an apocalypse. Both sides living in fear of the other, unable to even tell who the enemy is until it’s too late. These days everyone has a gun in the pocket and a knife in their back. And my pathetic little self hides out in the dark corners, trying to go unnoticed because I simply don’t know what else to do. The new breed of people, these clones, aren’t even given the opportunity to build the city up thanks to the constant battles on the streets. The internal conspiracy fears will have them destroying each other once we’re all gone. The world will be a wasteland and mankind will have been extinguished and I will die knowing that this was my wide eyed curiosity that got us here.

Weakness of Will

I am about to begin working on my 3rd Greek essay and thought I'd share some thoughts with you lot. I know some of you are philosophers and may appreciate my ramblings - to those of you who are not, you can always play along =p

"No man can know the better and be able to do it, but do the worst"

So basically, we can't do the wrong thing on purpose if we're capable of doing the right thing. I've been thinking about this for a few days now, trying to work out what my thoughts on it actually are. I have yet to actually do the reading, because I only just finished my Theaetetus essay this morning, where I concluded knowledge is not perception and that they are two very different things. I didn't quite work out what knowledge was, just that it was something special and a certain shape - it doesn't fit through the perception shaped holes in my understanding box. I realise that is probably a really confused analogy, but it helped me work it all out.

Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent. What do you think, can people err knowingly?

I think (today) that it's all a very subjective subject. I might think that your actions are wrong but you may not agree, which would mean I guess that you're not erring knowingly. But are you erring at all? Let us think about an example so we can try to get our heads around it: smoking.

People smoke even though they know it is bad for them. They know they will lose years off their lives and that their insides are being destroyed. But they do it anyway. 
Why?

This makes me think it has to be something to do with instant gratification vs long term gratification. In the moment they feel better for it which seems worth the worse later on. It's a value scale - what's more important to me? What is it I want more, to live freely or live longer? Maybe.

I think we like our instant gratification, us humans. We respond to instinct to feed animal desires. Hunger for example - we get hungry, we eat. But sometimes we go on diets, do delay instant gratification for that long term goal of being skinny. So how does it all weigh up?

This is just an informal idea soup. I will read Plato and a bit of Aristotle and come up with my essay and let you know what conclusion I came to on the matter. Let me know what you think in general about whether or not we are weak willed. Do we do things even when we don't want to do them? What does that even mean?

Hans Christian Andersen

So the other day I was thinking about stories I liked when I was a kid and how a lot of them were ruined by being brightened up (like by Disney and the likes). In following this thought through I hit up Amazon and purchased a copy of Hans Christian Andersen's Complete Fairy Tales. 

It is pretty damn awesome! More awesome than I thought it would be in fact. I saw my package from Amazon, sat patiently waiting for my attention up on the table in the hallway outside my bedroom. I swiftly pulled open the cardboard to see it was huge (I should have assumed as much considering the word 'complete' is in the title, but shhh)! It was wrapped in cellophane, which doesn't often happen to be honest, so that was quite exciting. I pull the book out and realise it is HARD BACK. You have no idea how excited I got. I ripped off the cellophane and sat holding the book, touching the cover and just looking at it. I got a little bit over excited and was about to start crying, so I put the book down and left the room for a few minutes to calm down. 

Yes I am actually that lame.

A friend of mine phoned me at this point, which meant I had someone to share my excitement with. Which was so very necessary! I could well have exploded. I was actually about to phone Mr Gaige and tell him all about it before my phone started ringing! I literally spent the next 20 minutes talking about how happy I was and what it felt like and how it smelt like new book. I even went on Skype so I could show her the book on webcam. 

At which point, she informed me of a movie I should really have known about from the 50's which I have now ordered! Amazon tells me it will be at my door by Tuesday. This too makes me very happy! Hopefully it comes in the morning as I plan to go away for a couple of days and would love to take it with me so we can watch it together and sit and get all girlie at the singing and the storytelling! 

Amazon should blates pay me commission... I should write them a letter or something =p

I will give you my thoughts on the movie after I watch it! I have actually banned myself from reading for fun until after my degree, so you will all have to wait until summer for a book review. I find I feel really guilty for reading anything that isn't studying so have implemented a rule. 

If Blogging Was Like Keeping A Diary

When it comes to blogging, a lot of the time it takes the form of a quasi-diary entry - only the juicy bits have to be taken out. The problem with that is, the juice bits are obviously the most entertaining parts of any story. The meaty gossip about someone's life makes for the best stories to pass away the time. More often than not people would rather read about those embarrassing moments or the love matches that go into everyday life than just spiels of academia (tell me I'm not alone in this).

I have actually kept a diary since I was 10 years old. This last year it has received minimal amounts of attention from me, I imagine solely because of the amount of writing I do otherwise. Poetry especially meant I didn't need the diary as much anymore, because I could work things out another way. Since starting blogging I've almost deleted diary keeping completely, turning it into this obsolete passage of my childhood. It just means a few thoughts and feelings go untouched because I don't want to share my inner most anxieties with you and I can't always put them into poetry. I guess with time I'll see what the result of this will be on my psyche...

But the thing is, unlike a diary, your blog is a public forum. Anyone can read it and you can't even monitor who these people are. You can't just keep all these secrets hidden in a book under the bed, buried in a box you know nobody will open. People can see what it is you're saying and if you are saying things about the people reading, well - that's a whole other world. I can't just sit here and bitch about people I don't like or proclaim my love for anyone without getting myself into trouble. It seems that is the way it always is for writers. We want to write what we know but have to work out how to get away with doing it. Work out how to do it without telling any secrets you shouldn't have told and make sure you don't destroy any confidences that were left with you.

So how do I propose to go about this? There are things I want to tell you that I know would make for good stories but I'm trapped by my need for self-preservation. Does that make me a bad journalist? Shouldn't I just suck it up and get on with it? Well, hell no. I don't want to jeopardise my personal life just to give it away for the entertainment of strangers.

Instead I plan to write all the things I want to write and just wait. They can lay in waiting for a while and I'll start posting them in the future, maybe next year. When it's less embarrassing or delicate because it was the past. I hope you are all excited about what is to come, but I am sorry to tell you those juicy bits will be a long time coming.

Gay Africa

I have been asked to join the Rhymes Wont Wait collective and do a performance at a charity event.

"GAY AFRICA is a powerful response to the human rights and sexuality crisis sweeping the continent. In Uganda they propose to execute gays, in Malawi they imprison gay men who marry, in Nigeria they ban all meeting and support for LGBT people"

I have sat down today to try to pen a poem on topic and have come up with my first draft. It is called Above Tables and I'm sure you'll get a peak at it when it's done.

This is a really important issue and I am proud to be part of something so special in trying to make a difference and get awareness about the craziness going on out there out. If you are in London (or near by) hit up the gig, it's free! Clicking on the title will send you to the event page on Facebook.

If you don't already know, you should look it up. Right now a scary level of homophobia is sweeping across Africa to a point where laws are being passed to have people killed. Murdering people because you don't agree with them is not ok. Doing it in the name of God is worse. American Evangelicals (as well as the Catholic Church) have gone over there and preached hate and violence to such a degree that almost the entire continent has jumped on the bandwagon. This really isn't ok.

Sunday 28th February 2010 4pm – 8pm

Free Word Centre, Farringdon
60 Farringdon Road, London EC1R 3GA

Before The World Was Flat...

This is going to be a really short one I'm afraid as I'm currently working and paused to share this with you all. I'm sat transcribing my tutorial (I recorded us talking about stuff - it was a damn good plan) so I can have all the notes written down to refer to and it got to a part where were were talking about the Greeks and geometry and how they used it to work out the world was a sphere. Turns out that story about Christopher Columbus discovering the world was round rather than flat was a lie! I feel cheated. Part of me kind of wonders what the point of school (as in high school) even was you know, they didn't teach us anything and when they did teach us things it was a lie and they totally had us believing Britain were the saviours of the planet or something big and British - with all the look at us and our spirit. Ok that's just in history classes that last bit I guess, but still. In fact, I feel a rant about secondary schools in Britain may be in order. Just not today. This is me making a note of it.

They saw the shadow of the Earth on the Moon during a lunar eclipse was round. And they used the stars rising and falling to work it out too.

Plato used geometry (which he had mass love for) to tell us the sun, moon and planets would all have a natural circular motion.
Ok so we know the sun doesn't orbit anything now, but still - be impressed!

They even worked out how big the Earth had to be.
And when eclipses and other cosmology related events would happen.

I started researching this so I could share with you how awesome the Ancient Greeks were, but I should instead be writing my essay. I am like a super procrastinator, yet it's all somehow disguised to look like it's still work.... well I'm reading about Plato, so it still counts... only, that's not really true now is it? Sorry this entry isn't really up there with the awesomeness that is [SuperPennie] but I just needed to share my findings with someone and there's no one to talk to at 5.40am about this and I was far too excited to just keep it to myself.

You know, it kind of upset me that I wasn't an Ancient Greek. But I guess, being a girl I wouldn't have been able to go to any of those schools of thought and studied with all the lads anyway. Pretty sure only rich men or little boys the rich men could look after got to go to school. But I don't actually know how true that statement is.

Super Me

Today, I got a new tattoo. It is very exciting and I've wanted it done for a while. It's a stick man with a cape whispering into my ear! Yes, it's SuperPennie!

I started this hours ago and now I should really be saying yesterday in talking about it... But you can just deal with my time issues.

It may seem as though I have just branded myself and I'm not exactly sure what that shows. Perhaps my commitment to the SuperPennie brand, maybe it's more like my attempts to snapshot this part of my being. Maybe it's both.

I like tattoos. It's as if my body is the scrapbook of my life, and of course it is! We have scars to remind us of our scrapes and adventures, we have wrinkles to remind us of our smiles. Why not have drawings to remind us of our loves? People often tell me I'll regret them when I'm older or that I'll never get a job. And to those people, I tell them they just don't see what I see. This isn't my young impressionable self making mistakes or trying to be cool, this is me keeping hold of everything that is.

I started a diary when I was 10 years old and a scrap book around the same time. When I was a teenager my walls were full of memories I held dear (most of which now live in a massive blue pirate box). When I was a fresher my dorm walls did the same thing (until they were retired into a big pink fairy box). I keep hold of everything. I want to remember the good times and the bad times, to remember my opinions and beliefs long after I don't hold them anymore. I want to see how I've changed and understand where I've come from.

And on the job front... well I want to be a superhero.

I'm not convinced my appearance matters at all as a writer. The words that fall out of my fingertips will no doubt come from the same braincells regardless of the ink or dye that seeps within me. And any employer refusing to have me on their team simply based on my appearance does not sound like the sort of employer who deserves me on their side.

Sure, maybe when I'm 60 and have to explain my stickman with a cape to my tea buddies I may seem a little silly, but the stories I tell will be of adventures I had in my youth. Of the times I followed my dreams and took those leaps towards the stars. And anyone who feels the need to judge my happiness is clearly wasting their lives away rather than being happy for themselves. And to you, I am sorry.

An Emotional Day; A Nostalgic Lifetime.

Yesterday I went to the funeral of one of my friends. We've known each other since we were maybe 5 years old and on the 1st on January she was taken away. A bunch of boy racers thought it a good idea to speed up onto a pavement and take down a group of people. The result? 600 people at a crematorium saying their goodbyes and remembering the times they spent with her.

Her name; Carrie Maclaren.

And it shall not be forgotten. I have never seen so many people turn up to pay tribute before. It was actually quite incredible. There were people from primary school, secondary school and university as well as family and all other places she crossed paths, all there. We filled two chapels and spilled out into the corridors.

I have never cried so much. Photos of Carrie were being projected onto the wall, showing her life. She looked so happy (and very often drunk). After the service we all filled into hall to catch up and reminisce. Hundreds of lanterns were let loose to rise up into the air. You can see the photo to the left. Unfortunately it isn't something you can really photograph all that well, but you get the idea. It was beautiful. It was amazing to see how many people cared about her. How one girl touched so many peoples lives. I was touched by the sight of it all. She was too young to have been taken yet, 20 year olds are not meant to die.


The experience showed me how many faces I've lost to the past. How many people I just don't talk to anymore, not for any real reason other than growing up and growing apart. It helped me realise how much time I waste to missed opportunities. From here I'm going to make a difference. To change. I'm going to try to be better because there is no point wasting my life away. There's just no point.

In times like this people turn to religion for answers. For reasons why and for promises of things to come. Religion makes death easier because it lets you believe the person didn't really die. That death is just a step towards something better. But religion also implies that life doesn't even matter as all it is, is the time before you die. The time spent waiting for that promise of something better. I don't believe any of this. I don't think.

But I do believe we're all just energy. I believe that nothing ever ends, just changes. Things move from form to form but never end. Nothing can just disappear, nor can it just appear. So I believe when you die you go back to nature in a way. You are part of the world and will always be part of the world. You may not have the sort of consciousness that comes with being human, but you still are. And this is where I find comfort. In the thought that we are all connected and part of the same whole. The thought that death is just a state, a process of transferal into another form.

What do you think?

OMG It's NYE 2010

2010 sounds a little crazy doesn't it? I remember all the fuss over 2000 and the end of the world and all that jazz but 2010 sounds like the setting for some futuristic movie. Only we've totally failed with a whole lot of our futuristic expectations...

In the 1980's Back To The Future showed us hover-boards; where the hell are they? Surely we've worked out the technology to hover by now!

And why are we not living on the moon in tin foil suits yet?

Why are we still driving the same old four wheeled cars - with gear sticks?

Why haven't we cured world hunger yet? Or found a better source of energy? Yeah yeah, "Solar Power" I know... but what actually runs off solar power really? It's still too expensive for anyone to actually be running their houses off, or cars, or planes....

We failed our past selves with our rubbishness. I personally blame the fact that people want to make money more than they want to do science. We have way more technology than the everyday man can get his hands on, but nobody is selling up for less than more money than they could possibly ever need. Oh and those particular folk, who spend all day shouting that science is the devils work and ignorance is the only way into heaven.

So how do I plan to step into the under achieving future? Well I'm plan-less. Ok, that's not totally true - I have about 5 plans that I've yet to commit to as I sit in my room begrudging this need for celebration the world encourages, every time we make it through a year. I think I've grown out of all this celebrating and I'm really tempted to stay home and be a recluse. I enjoy the recluse life, but it's one the social person can get their head around.

Why would you not want to go out and get bladdered? Why would you not want to spend your evening surrounded by loud, sweaty drunks? You need to start the year as you mean to go on; with a party! 

I definitely do not want my entire year to be filled with drunken social situations. Been there, done that, can't be assed to hit repeat. Really if I want to start the year as I mean to go on, I should spend the evening writing and doing work in powerful attempts to achieve something with my life. 'Cause that's what I want a whole lot more than the drunkness and the sweat.

You see, I worked in a club for a year. And it wasn't any year, it was my first year at university. So every day for a year I was either out clubbing or in a club working (which amounted to the same thing up until I got bored of being on the scene). I wore it out. Can you blame me for not wanting to do it all over again?

And besides, what's so special about NewYears? It's just another day, it only looks like it's special because of the particular calendar we follow. But what if we followed a different one? There are loads of different 'NewYears' going on, so it can't be all that special. If I'm celebrating making it through a year, really that's kinda morbid... and on that logic shouldn't we celebrate everyday?

Yay! I've got a whole new today to look forward to! 

Woot! Let's celebrate tomorrow's arrival! 

Haha! I remember yesterday! 

I guess that's a good way to live, sort of. So long as the celebrating isn't daily over indulgences followed by massive hangovers. But just being happy, appreciating your life and all that love-y dove-y shit that nobody really does but pretend they do 'cause it makes them sound spiritual and 'together'.

I don't know.

While I'm on the topic of NewYears though, may as well discuss resolutions. I think it's pointless to make resolutions like, No more chocolate. No more fags. Exercise daily. Cold turkey, cold turkey, cold turkey! You're not going to achieve anything by removing something you enjoy on the premise of becoming a better person or whatever. It'll be a couple of weeks before you are back on whatever you gave up (or no longer doing whatever you took up) with twice the force to make up for lost time.

I think instead of empty resolutions we should reflect. Look at this year and see what worked, what didn't work. Look at yourself. Understand yourself. You can't 'improve' on something you don't understand so there's no point wasting your life away.

If you look back it'll help you look forward. It'll help you set real goals that you can actually achieve. So that's my plan this year, what's yours?

The ‘feminist’ shadow

For some reason the word ‘feminist’ comes with an array of negative connotations, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth and has women running from being given the title. “I’m not a feminist!” becomes the theme tune for women too afraid to stand up for themselves, for fear of being seen as some unladylike creature. Feminism is un-feminine. All sorts of ideas about feminists haunt the air; they are all man-hating lesbians who don’t shave their armpits and bench press their anger in the gym whilst starting fires and breaking laws.

Fear of change has given birth to all the above stereotypes (along with however many others) to stunt the movement’s potential. The actual definition of a feminism (so says dictionary.com) is ‘the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men’. All feminism is, is the belief that people should be equal – yet somehow it’s become a dirty word.

 "Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings."

--Cheris Kramerae, author of A Feminist Dictionary, 1996

If it wasn’t for the feminist’s of our past, we wouldn’t have a vote; we wouldn’t have a voice. We wouldn’t have jobs or trousers or chances, yet these women in history don’t have our respect. They are hero’s, but are portrayed as nothing more than crazy, angry nightmares. The male-dominated power structure sees the threat and wants it destroyed, and what better way to destroy the opposition than to pump it’s being with negative labels to scare away new members of joining it. How dare those pesky women demand equal pay for equal work! How dare they try to make their own decisions about their bodies! What disgusting behaviour…

In people’s notion of feminism, they assume it is about women becoming the new power. About turning our society into a matriarchy, where women hold all the cards – but they’re wrong. It isn’t about power, it’s about equality. I personally think it is ignorant of human beings to assume anyone is better than anyone else, we all came from the same place and we are all going to the same place. What is so wrong in believing we should all be treated the same? Why is equality some evil that must be squashed?

People look at the state of men and women in our current climate and seem to think we have nowhere left to go; that this is equality. This is just another way of stopping us ever reaching an equal footing. Of course we’re not yet equal, and unless we see that we will never move forward. We cannot overcome what we cannot see.

Men are still paid more for the same work. Men still get more jobs over women applicants. Men are embarrassed if they’re ever over powered by a woman. The list goes on. On top of this, there are the women who think using their femininity to become successful is wrong and they must behave ‘like men’ if they want to succeed, but I think this is the wrong approach. Much of the system is based on male advantages and can be climbed with use of male characteristics, but there is nothing wrong with using female characteristics to get ahead and to build new ladders.

Somehow society has women fighting with one another, so they are too distracted to fight the state. Women see each other as a threat, as if only one woman can ever be successful or beautiful or happy so the rest are competitors. How can we ever be taken seriously in a plea for equality when we can’t accept such a concept within our own community.

I wrote this to submit to the feminist carnival with gender across boarders, check out more on The Feminist Carnival Here

And If you fancy submitting something too, click Here

It's Christmas Eve...

And in the spirit of Christmas I figured it was time to share my thoughts on the season. I think Christmas lost it's magic a while back, somewhere in between learning the value of money and discovering the truth about Santa. When you're a child the concept of a big fat man breaking into your house isn't nearly as disturbing... it's magical and fascinating and fills you with Christmas. But then you start to wonder, how fast does he actually have to be moving to hit all those houses in time? And how fat must he be after all those cookies and pies? And I wonder if Muslim kids get presents too? Oh and what about those kids that don't get chimneys? Maybe there's some sort of correlation between chimneys and good behaviour in children... after all Santa sells Christmas to kids for good behaviour and if you know he can't pay you a visit anyway, what's the point?

I remember finding this aeronautical engineers report on Santa when I was younger (after I found out it was all a lie) that I'm going to share with you. Check The Truth Out Here for the maths behind why Santa doesn't make it. Turns out he has to be travelling at 650 miles/second with a grand total of 0.001 seconds to get out the sleigh, get in the house, leave presents, eat and drink the goodies, fill the stockings, get back up and get off. But hey, if magic's possible, breaking rules of time and speed shouldn't be a problem! Oh and if you're sat there wondering about how fat he must be (which I know you're just bursting to know) that answer is worked out for you too! The friendly fatty would have consumed almost 3000 tons by the end of the evening, which I imagine would be hard to stuff down a chimney...

On the topic of Santa, I do find his story a good one. We start off in the 4th century with a nice old bishop of Myra: Saint Nicholas. Nick was famous for giving poor folk generous gifts, most notably these three daughters of a Christian bloke who were given dowries so they wouldn't have to turn to prostitution and start selling their souls on the street for grub. Turns out German paganism influenced our Santa in those early attempts to hold on to their traditions through the painful Christianisation. Apparently Santa and Odin have a few things in common - 13th century literature tells us Odin rode an 8 legged horse that could pretty much fly which is kinda similar to the reindeer... ok that's not that great a comparison, but Odin had a long beard too... Kids would leave boots full of carrots or straw for Odin's flying horse near their chimneys and as a reward Odin would replace the snacks with gifts. That sounds familiar to me... Oooh oooh and Odin's horse is called Sleipnir which sounds a little like sleigh to me, though that could just be the way I'm reading it! There's loads more I could say on the subject but you're not here for a history lesson - one last point I'd like to point at would be the red. Yes, if you don't already know Santa was given his red suit by CocaCola to help sell Coke! Ok that might not actually be true, but it's something I heard out on the grapevine. I asked the mighty minds at CocaCola (meaning I had a look online) and they say it was some guy called Thomas Nast who made Santa red and they just used his interpretation... believe what you want.

Moving more to the Christmas part, I do find it all a bit fake. From the forced family time to the over stretched materialism beyond ones ability to survive in our cheery Capitalism. But even when we're all broke and in debt, spending money we don't have on Christmas presents no one ever really appreciates is what Christmas has become. I'm not big on the Christmas cheer, not because I'm a scrooge, but rather more to do with the fact that I hate being forced to love. It's all a load of - expletives - and you know it! If I love someone why should I wait for birthdays and Christmas to show them and shower them in gifts and attention? Why not do it all year round? Nobody appreciates things they're given when they're expecting, people are far more pleased with love and gifts on any other day of the year.

Before the Christians stole the day, it use to be a celebration of Solis Invicti or "unconquered sun". Basically celebrating any of the sun gods pre Jesus - everything is just on repeat with a different name. There are no new stories or ideas, just old ones shuffled for a new audience. Winter festivals were always everyones favourite, probably something to do with not having to do much work any more seeing as farming in snow is pretty pointless. When it was time for things to change the Pagan Winter Solstice was pushed out and replaced with Christmas, but we still decorate trees and give each other gifts. I am curious as to when Christmas will be pushed out and replaced by whatever comes next, but maybe that's just what all this mainstreaming of the holiday is about. Buy buy buy!! This is our new religion; over here in the West at least.

So to sum up, my thoughts were along the lines of buh humbug but with a few historical references. Let's see if my three ghosts pop up and answer some questions for me, hey?

Happy almost tomorrow chaps =] hope you all ('all' not referring to many people, but an important bunch nonetheless) have an awesome holiday season whatever it is you're celebrating. And if you're not into the celebrating I hope you enjoy not having to work or the snow or even just reading this, 'cause you've got to try to enjoy things otherwise it all just takes longer to troll through!