PonderBoxes

PonderBoxes is coming back....

2011-06-13T12:15:00.000+01:00

Hi all,

We've been on temporary hiatus but PonderBoxes will be back from 5th July 2011.

Email us at: ponderboxes@gmail.com to be added to the mailing list or if you're interested in becoming a PonderBox contributor.

Love and stuff

The PonderBoxes

xx

A Graphic Movie About Auschwitz, Really?

2010-11-16T19:28:00.009Z

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

As far as adaptations of real life go, Hollywood, or the motion picture in general, has pretty much scraped the bottom of the barrel. Alive, Munich, Hotel Rwanda, Blood diamond, Joan of Arc....Nothing is above cinema. It’s almost easier to list what hasn’t been done.

Some subjects, however, do seem to be beyond certain genres. I couldn’t tell you what they are, but I know they exist. And until last week, few of us could have imagined a graphically gruesome, horror flick about Auschwitz. But you tell that to Uwe Boll, known for his gory adaptations of video games, who feels it’s time to cinematize the "full horror" of Auschwitz, no matter how controversial. Well Uwe, I guess somebody had to do it, in the same way that some idiot has to pull the alarm-lever on the tube in the middle of rush-hour.

The critics, however, do not appreciate Boll's unique tribute. In fact, they are hyperventilating in outrage, accusing it of being distasteful and disturbing, with some even pledging a boycott. This is probably water off Boll’s back. In the end, it’s us, the box-office tickets, who get the final verdict. So what do we think? (Speculatively talking, since it’s scheduled for release next year). There is, apparently, a YouTube teaser, which I have to admit I'm too chicken to watch, so feel free to read this ponder with a pinch of salt.

Boll’s justification for this picture, apart from enlightening us to the excruciating horror of Auschwitz, is that we’ve been somewhat nullified by the “special story films”, such as Schindler’s List. Hmmm, sorry Uwe but I struggle to see your point; Schindler’s List was pretty good.

In my opinion, depicting every murderous tentacle in its full, graphic inhumanity is about as helpful in conveying the harrowing crimes of Auschwitz as a pumpkin. Did you watch the “Passion of Christ”? I did, or at least I tried. Yes, it captured the violence, but did it invoke any profound awareness about the plight of Christians, the persecution of religious minorities, or even the state of humanity? Err, nope. Well, at least not in my immediate circle of intellects. I did, however, hear discussions akin to: Did you watch it to the end? Wasn’t it horrible? Did you see the part when......?

Where's the benefit in simply sensationalising the violence? Here’s my question Mr Boll: How exactly do you expect to communicate the torturous agenda of Auschwitz, if people are too afraid to peer over their popcorn box, or beyond their partner’s jacket? I think you’ll find you don’t need violence to convey violence. Any wife beater will tell you that much. The nightmare of Auschwitz, and thus the Holocaust, is embedded in its inhumanity, which cannot be reduced to gas chambers. Why have a scene of gruesome experiments performed on twins capture the nuances of fear and despair of the Holocaust, when a closed door can have the same effect?

In fact, in an era where films such as Saw and The Hostel have normalised murder and brutally, I would go so far to suggest that it is an overly violent movie, which is desensitising

Uwe, I’d be more inclined to embrace your movie if you were tad more honest. Try: “I’m an uninspired Director, partial to exploiting people’s amygdales for a cheap scare, and what better material than Auschwitz, I don’t even have to invent the violence. After this, I’m considering a torturous spectacle about Nelson Mandela’s years in an apartheid prison”. Or something like that.

Of course, this is just my opinion; I’m open to other perceptions. What do you think about this latest production about Auschwitz? Are some subjects just too taboo for Hollywood, or at least some genres? Or is nothing above being interpreted (or exploited) by film, or Art?

Should Prisoners Get The Vote?

2010-11-02T13:48:00.001Z

By Euclides Montes (@Gatulino)

The British broadsheets are reporting that the government is poised to bring the UK in line with most European countries and allow prisoners to participate in the electoral process by voting.

This is one of those heated topics that usually divide people throughout the country regardless of their political leanings. So, should prisoners get the vote? And what does this question in itself mean for the role of the prison system in modern society?

On the one side, there are those that would argue that prisoners have excluded themselves from the rights law-abiding citizens enjoy, including the right to take part in participatory democracy. Those on this side of the debate often liken voting to undertaking jury duty and they argue that a person who has been given a prison sentence has also effectively given up their right and that this is a privilege of sorts that can only be regained once the prisoner has paid their debt to society. This disenfranchisement of prisoners is very much in line with the way the prison system worked in British society for most of the 19th and 20th century where a prisoner was understood to have lost their citizenship rights.

This is a view that has been disputed for a long time and the other side of the argument has gained a real foothold of the debate in modern society. Those in favour of giving prisoners the vote usually argue that rather than a right, voting should be seen as a civic duty and giving prisoners the opportunity to join in with wider society is a useful tool in their process of reintegration. Beyond that, an argument that has driven this debate over the last decade is that by giving prisoners the vote and raising their electoral capital in the process, politicians would pay closer attention to our prison system as it would mutate from a problematic field of policy into a possible source of important votes during an election.

Although it’s quite clear that there is probably not a right or wrong answer, allow me to have a go at answering the question of this ponder.

My personal feeling is that it really depends on how we view prisons and their role in society. Whilst it is a very valid view that prisons should remain a place where those who have transgressed against society pay their penance, I personally believe that prisons should instead be a place where prisoners are rehabilitated and given the tools to rejoin and be able to participate fully in their society. An eye for eye is a bit outdated for my liking and a prison term should not be seen as a payment for faults but as a system that helps our fellow citizens to gain the skills needed to be integral parts of their society. I believe voting, or rather having the choice to partake in participatory democracy, is a key part of this rehabilitation. As such, I personally welcome this move. How about you?

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The Meaning Of Life

2010-10-26T16:54:00.001+01:00

By Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

I have a theory. Hot off the press so to speak: I think that the idea that we're all still hunting for "the meaning of life" is ridiculous. I think we know exactly what it is and always have done.

For some reason we have allowed ourselves to be so overwhelmed by the enormity of the question that we've left it to the scientists and philosophers to fight it out. And yet, "the meaning of life" floods our every movement; shapes our legal systems; informs our sense of morality (both personal and societal); and colours every political system from London to Lima to Lagos.

How could it not? The meaning of life is the reason we are. And of course, every culture, family, individual will have a different interpretation of what it means to them, but surely the meaning of life is to live. Isn't it?

Isn't that why the idea of working in a stuffy office fills us with horror whilst achieving the holy grail of the perfect work-life balance so appealing? Because we all need time "to live" otherwise we begin to feel that life has no meaning.

Isn't that why we (most of us at least) find the idea of long-term imprisonment of young-offenders so troubling? Because to effectively deny someone the right to a chance "to live" freely is so contrary to our nature.

Ironically enough, isn't that why proponents of the death penalty have such an easy time defending their stance? Because acts that inhibit someone else's ability "to live" seem so indefensible.

And isn't that why we have memorials for our loved ones who have died? Because it allows them to live again - if only in memory.

Last week my father died of lung cancer. I barely knew him and yet have felt such sadness for him in these last few days. Because by all accounts he didn't live. He allowed past mistakes to prevent him from living and then died within hours of finding the forgiveness he craved but didn't seek out. What a shame. To have a life but not live it. Isn't it? Perhaps this post could be a memorial of sorts. Give him one last chance "to live".

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Apologies

2010-09-14T19:17:00.000+01:00

Hello all,

Please accept our apologies but our hosting website [Blogger] is experiencing problems today and we haven't been able to put up our weekly post.

Hopefully all problems will be sorted out soon and pondering will resume as usual.

Thanks for stopping by.

The PonderBoxes

Whose Line Is It Anyway?

2010-09-07T12:19:00.002+01:00

By Euclides Montes (@Gatulino)

I’m sure by now we’ve all heard the horrible stories coming out of “Mexico’s drug war” or maybe heard about the street battles between different gangs trying to regain control of the drug business in Medellin (Colombia) and I’m sure that like me you have shuddered at the idiocy and senselessness of the situation.

Whilst this is happening, drug use in the West is said to have stabilised and it is not uncommon to find guests at different parties powdering their noses away without any care in the world. Although drug using still conjures up images of dirty flats and broken lives (see current Eastender’s plot line for proof!), this is also an image that is being challenged by my late 20s generation and this is a move that will certainly continue – lest some major cultural shift takes place – being pushed by the younger generations.

So, what’s my ponder? I read over the weekend an article by Antonio Maria Costa (executive director of the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime) who in very diplomatic terms peddled the view that the decriminalisation of drugs would lead to ‘catastrophic consequences’ in the world. Although it cannot really be called scaremongering – after all, Mr Costa does make some very valid arguments about the way we as societies deal with drugs and their consumption – I found myself disagreeing with him in principle and fact in several passages.

So, rather than fisking his article here, I thought I’d open the floor with my ponder. Is it really such a bad idea to decriminalise drugs? I’m personally of the view that introducing a system akin to the one introduced by Portugal over a decade ago on a large scale in the West would help not only to curb the problem of addiction but it would help the countries producing the drugs to fight the production of what would be no longer illegal substances. This has been true for decades of tobacco and alcohol, why not just extend it to other substances? (it’s worth pointing out that Portugal’s system has been rather successful in helping the country to deal with the massive drugs problems it faced a decade ago)

I have rewritten this article a couples of times now because I really want to avoid the preachy tone many articles like this one usually take but I hope you will all forgive me one little indiscretion in that respect. After all, every line of coke that we in West consume at our parties and festivals contributes to the deaths, violence and poverty enveloping so many nations right now. So, rather than asking you to ‘stop and think’ before you use drugs, which would be a hypocritical stance by anyone who enjoys many of the other benefits that life in the West has to offer, I’d like to ask you to ponder about where you stand in terms of the argument for decriminalisation and help us bring the debate forward regardless of which side you fall upon. To quote Mr Costa, “are we ready to engage?”

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What's In A Name?

2010-08-31T15:05:00.006+01:00

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

I got married a couple of weeks ago. I think that there are a lot of interesting things to ask about that. For instance, what does marriage within atheism mean? Do you marry because you expect something to change or because it already has? Do you seriously expect us to save a piece of wedding cake for our unconceived child, or was that a joke? Yet the only question that people seem to ask is: are you going to change your name?

Just so that you don’t spend the whole post pondering, the answer is: no, we haven’t decided what we’re going to do with our names yet.

I’ve found the whole process of getting married wonderful… and fascinating. The mere mention of the word seems to elicit an ingrained and impermeable reaction in people (myself included). What’s more, not only do most people seem unable to control that reaction, but they also seem oblivious to it. And the issue of the name appears to be king.

There are two things that I’ve found particularly interesting. The second most interesting of these is that whilst the question is significant enough to be asked again and again and again… and again, it seems that my actual name pales in significance by comparison. “It doesn’t matter Rach, why not just consider changing it”, “Why hold on to your name Rach, isn’t that just ego?”, “Rachel Montes? It’s pretty.” As if that was in some way relevant.

By writing the above I risk offending most of my closest friends… which leads me to the most interesting thing. The pressure to bow to tradition hasn’t come from “society”, but from within my closest social groups. Odd.

Incidentally, no one’s asked my husband if he’s going to change his name. Perhaps that’s the most interesting thing.

So my ponder? My ponder is: what’s in a name? A quick flick through the papers suggests that there’s quite a lot actually.

1. There are those who have their names changed for them.

Hands up if you remember John Darwin? Nope, didn’t think so… how about the Canoe Man? There we go.

The Tabs have affectionately renamed the man who was brutally stabbed to death and hacked into pieces: Spy In The Bag… seriously?

Susan Boyle post-break down and post-waxing became known as SuBo. It didn’t catch on, nor did she.

I’ve become quite accustomed to hearing about Baby P. The tragedy of his story never seems to be far from us. And then every once in a while I hear someone refer to him as Baby Peter and the reality of it punches me in the stomach again.

2. There are those who adopt additional names.

Having a pseudonym has become an accepted and unquestioned tradition, particularly within the arts. But when you do stop to question it, it really does beg a question or two. Of course there are some who build entire personas and lives around a pseudonym and that ability is their artistry; think Banksy.

And then there are others who, like the George Elliots and Currer Bells of this world, rely upon pseudonyms to break down barriers and find expression. I get that.

But on the whole, pseudonyms seem to be used by people who are either scared that their “created” vs “true” identities are incongruous, or, they’re embarrassed about one or the other… or both… and so hide behind a pseudonym. And on the whole, we accept this practice. Perhaps we shouldn’t? I’m not sure.

3. There are those who give up their names all together.

The jury’s still out on this one too. There’s something distinctly uncomfortable about the current use of anonymity. Again, there are clearly situations in which the right to anonymity is not only acceptable, but should be fiercely protected. But, if you give a statement to the press, or post online anonymously, i.e. you’re not willing to put your name to it, then why should anyone be willing to give validity to what you’re saying? Surely, by indiscriminately encouraging anonymity, all we’re encouraging is cowardice?

4. There are those who have become convinced of “the value” of their names.

Super injunction. I’m afraid I can’t say anymore.

There isn’t necessarily a consistent theme to the above, except that names clearly matter, otherwise why would we go through the hassle of changing or hiding them.

So all in all, I don’t know what’s in a name… but I do know that there’s something. I also know that I’m not going to be in a hurry to lose mine just yet. So maybe I’ll be Rachel Montes, or maybe he’ll be Mr Surtees, but either way, I do wish people would stop asking.

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Me, Myself and I?

2010-08-10T20:45:00.006+01:00

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

If the truth be told, I had judged Jeff too quickly. Perhaps his clown pants (only way to describe them) and matted beard suggested just another hippie. We sat on a table underneath a large papaya tree sheltering the Caribbean sun, and looked at the menu. I gathered he'd probably order a carrot and beetroot smoothie, and later invite us to play drums and make it rain on the beach.

"Chad did tons of yoga and meditation when he did it, but I'm planning to do nothing. I really want to get in my head, be alone with my thoughts, work through the demons..... see what happens"

Jeff, it turns out, was about to embark on ten days of darkness. Ten days of complete light, sound and social deprivation. Not an experience that most people could stand. For him, however, I imagined it would be a breeze, since he and my friend Anna had recently spent two months in silence, on a course in Guatemala.

In a small way, spiritual pilgrimages such as these reflect a sad, modern reality. That we have to travel to a dark hut, somewhere in the jungle of Guatemala, to be alone with ourselves. Or that we depend on therapy or medicine to understand our own behaviour. Are we really that confused about who we are? Should we be so complicated?

How we've become so complicated, in my opinion, is no mystery. Just take a look at the Market we've created, saturated with goods and services we don't need. Advertisers and branders have ruthlessly exploited and reconstructed identities, turning the consumer into a blank canvass. No need for a sense of self, unless of course it's been defined by Apple or Nike.

Of course, this is just my opinion. I'm sure that the exact same thing could be said for religion, politics or culture.

Perhaps Jeff has a point. Who are we?

It would be interesting to spend 10 days alone in darkness, deprived from everything but oneself to find out.

Thoughts?

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Is the Burka any more offensive than the Miniskirt?

2010-08-03T12:50:00.003+01:00

By Joshua Surtees

On the 13th of July, the day before Bastille Day, the French parliament voted overwhelmingly in favour of a ban on women wearing the burka in public. 335 politicians voted in favour of the ban, just one against. Justice Minister Michelle Alliot-Marie described the occasion as a victory for democracy and French values.

But surely, the point of democracy is that people have the freedom to choose things like the clothes they wear?

Just in the same way that some women in France choose to wear miniskirts, hotpants, push up bras or bikinis in the street. Just as men and women in France are allowed to walk around naked on nudist beaches. Just as newsagents and broadcasters are allowed to display pornographic images of women on shop shelves or national television channels like Canal +. Should Muslim women not be given the democratic freedom to determine how much or little of their bodies are seen? Just as these two Lebanese women in the photograph below have both made their individual decisions to cover or uncover their bodies – why should a government take it upon itself to ban one of them?

My personal opinion is that people should be allowed to wear what they want to wear and if that causes offence to others then those others should simply look away. I don’t particularly like the bomber jacket and cherry red Doc Martens uniform of the National Front – a symbol of the overt racist tendencies of the wearer. But I would not expect the government to ban it from being worn.

Some people may object to tattoos or piercings and the values they symbolise, some may object to the elongated ‘giraffe necks’ of some Burmese women, some may object to the sartorial choices of some transsexual people; but just because a style of dress reflects a culture that is different to ours, it is surely an extreme measure to officially eradicate it.

On the face of it this ban appears to have three strands. The first is a stance against the oppression of Islamic women. The second is a symbol of France’s secularisation of the state. The third is Islamophobia.

Turning first to the oppression of Islamic women. Do these women photographed in Birmingham look oppressed?

It’s an interesting question. Some of you might say yes, others might see a group of strong Muslim women, defiant and proud of their culture. In what way is what they are wearing any more oppressive than the cultural European norms that dictate women should be seen in high heels and make up?

On a trip to Syria a few years ago I met a young Parisian woman of Algerian heritage. Before leaving the hotel one day she decided it would be easier for her to wear a headscarf. When I asked why she told me it would attract less attention. As a woman in a city like Paris she endures the daily stares, whistles and comments that all men direct towards women. When a woman covers up the parts of her that men find attractive it neutralises the potential for sexist behaviour or unwanted attention. In Islam it is seen as a symbol of modesty. In France it is seen as oppression. Feminists would argue that rather than covering women up, instead men should be held accountable for their behaviour. But how do you stop men from staring and whistling? Perhaps a law against lewd sexist behaviour in public should have been pursued in tandem with the ban on the burka. But that will never happen under French law. There is no feminism within French law, only the pretence of it.

It is often said that women are forced to wear the burka by their husbands and, of course where this is the case – as in Afghanistan when the Taliban came to power – it is entirely unacceptable. But in Europe, large parts of North Africa and the Middle East, the choice to wear the veil is predominantly a woman’s choice based on her religious beliefs and not the result of coercion or domestic patriarchy.

With regard to the second point; the secularisation of the French republic. While all religious symbols are banned in schools and universities, there is currently no legislation banning the Jewish kippah or Sikh turban from public places. Jean-Francois Cope of the UMP party declared that “the burka is not a question of religion, it is the way for some extremists to make an instrumentalisation of the religion in order to make politics.” A deeply flawed and questionable statement which leads us on to point three. Is this simply Islamophobia in action?

There are 5 million Muslims living in France – many of whom opposed the ban. Only 2,000 French women are believed to wear the full burka. It therefore seems a symbolically aggressive gesture directed from the French state towards a minority community. Surely, in a case such as this, where the tangible effects of passing this law will be to remove from France’s streets a physical manifestation of a culture and religion, would it not have been more acceptable to put the vote to a national referendum? Or would that serve only to further polarise communities and exacerbate the tensions that have always existed between France and the peoples of its former colonies?

In Britain, a ban such as this would be seen as inherently racist and unacceptable. British Muslims would see it as an act of marginalisation of religious behaviour. Moreover it would be seen as an oppression of basic human rights. Tory MP Andrew Grice has already been warned that his statements about refusing to meet with constituents dressed in the veil could lead to legal action legal action. Yet, in Spain, Holland and Belgium similar bans to the one in France are already being discussed. This suggests something fundamentally different in the extent to which diverse racial and religious groups are accepted in British society as opposed to elsewhere in Europe.

On my way home on the bus the other day a woman was sat with her two young daughters. All three of them chatting away and laughing in Arabic. Her two young girls were wearing jeans, trainers, t-shirts while their mother was wearing the niqab. At one point during their conversation she turned to me and though I saw only her eyes, I could see she was smiling. I smiled back and she turned back and continued her conversation. Where I live in north London the veil is simply a small part of life just like the colourful flowing dresses of the Roma gypsies, the Lycra leggings of the Polish girls, the head scarves of the Turkish, the furry hats of the Orthodox Jews or the miniskirts of English women. Nobody stares, nobody is scared, nobody appears offended.

Why should they be?

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Under Pressure?

2010-07-27T16:24:00.005+01:00

By Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

I think the pressure might be starting to get to us. Us all that is.

The moment that it hit me was on route to work a couple of weeks ago. Running late, I opted for the tube rather than my usual calming walk in. On the first tube two men had a fight – or at least it would have been a fight if either had had enough room to move their arms. On the second tube an old woman started shouting at a four year stranger… that’s right, a four year old. I know he was four because his shocked father screamed it back in the old lady’s face.

In itself it was essentially just a bad journey. It probably wasn’t even that bad, just a shock to the system – I’ve noticed that you start to lose your London edge quite quickly when you stop travelling by tube every day.

Then again, I wonder if it was perhaps symptomatic of something more significant. Symptomatic of the pressures of modern day living starting to show?

Last week the latest crime statistics showed an overall drop in crime. And as happens every year, the majority of the country reading the glowing report on improved policing measures and effective crime prevention, raised a baffled eyebrow, had another swig of coffee and turned the page to read about a grandfather being “happy-slapped” to death.

Within this seemingly never-ending catalogue of bad news and violent outbursts, there were two particularly horrendous stories in quite close succession, linked only by their unusualness and muted public reaction.

In June of this year, taxi driver Derrick Bird shot dead 12 people and injured 7 others, before turning his gun on himself. What characterised this event was not only how reportedly out of character the attack was, but also the notable lack of public recrimination – except against the police that is. There is no dancing around the fact that what Bird did was to go on a killing spree. And yet the day’s events were largely met with shock and sadness, not anger. A surprising number of people came out in Bird’s defence, and those who didn’t, could at least understand where the others were coming from.

Then in July of this year, the now notorious Raoul Moat went on a similar rampage. Similar in that he picked up a gun, sought out individuals who he felt had wronged him and shot them, killing his ex-partner' new boyfriend. Then he became relatively indiscriminate in his mania, injuring an unarmed police officer*. Similar in that the early public reaction was many things, but rarely disgusted. Most were fascinated, many concluded that he must have been provoked, whilst others were convinced of an elaborate police cover up of some sort. The whole story had, dare I say it, an air of macabre humour about it; enter Gazza. Again, the unfolding events were drenched in tragedy and sorrow, not anger. That is until resident idiot Siobhan O’Dowd took “empathy” a step too far and jolted us back to our senses.

There are a million and one reasons why public response might have been what it was to both gunmen. One is that we’ve just become so used to violence that it’s no longer as shocking as it should be. The other is that we have become a more compassionate and understanding nation.

But I wonder. I wonder if deep down we have comprehended these murders, so unusual and dramatic in nature, to be the breaking point of modern day living. I wonder if our characterisation of both Bird and Moat as victims in their own right, is because we’re all starting to feel the pressure. That we know that we wouldn’t pick up a gun and randomly start shooting, but we wouldn’t be entirely surprised if our neighbour, or colleague, or postman did.

Are we reaching the breaking point of modern day living?

Yesterday a man killed his wife and two young children – his neighbours say they don’t understand what could have happened, that it is entirely out of character.

*Ed. Original article mistakenly stated that Raoul Moat killed an unarmed police officer. The officer in question actually survived the attack and the post was amended accordingly. Hat tip to ‘Anonymous Coward’

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Will The Coalition Survive A Full Term?

2010-07-20T19:40:00.005+01:00

The case against by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

No. I give it two years, and here are 5 reasons why:

1. Within about 6 months both parties will realise that neither is of any use to the other anymore. The disillusioned public who voted Lib Dem in good faith will have defected back to Labour, and those who have had a pleasant surprise will wake up one day in the near future and realise that they are in fact Tories. Either way, there won’t be any need for a coalition anymore.

2. Somewhere along the line, probably around Christmas, we will have plunged back into deep recession and even the Mail will be calling out for Gordon.

3. Next year will be the test. We’ll be given a referendum on electoral reform. Cameron will vote against it (because what possible reason would there be for him voting for it). The Lib Dem MPs who have been coerced into toeing the coalition line will realise there’s nothing left for them and will either jump ship altogether or defect to Labour thereby opening the door to a successful vote of no confidence.

4. Our very short memories will have been jogged and two years is well enough time to remember what life

under a Tory led government is like. To be honest, with the speed at which they have threatened to balls up state education and effectively privatise the NHS it might not take 2 months, let alone 2 years.

The case for by Euclides Montes (@gatulino)

The question in my eyes is really beyond any question. And as a Communist, it pains me to say it is undoubtedly yes.

This government is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. It came to be after a rather difficult amalgamation of people holding different political outlooks who either gave up on their long held beliefs or acknowledged they’ll have to play the long game to get what they really want as a compromise to get into power. Of course along the way we’ll have endless exposure to a large number of people who will either embarrass, or even worse, compromise the coalition parties’ position. And we in the opposition will no doubt gleefully use these opportunities to attack what is, in my opinion, a dangerous group of socially inept rich boys who are busy running our country into a very dark place.

However, they will also get a lot of things right. What can I say? The law of averages is a bitch! And the previous administration gave them a ‘get out of jail free’ card to play that will be still playable for quite a while. And beyond that, make no mistake, this government has a lot of friends in high places who will not want to see this coalition fail because too much time and effort has been invested into getting market-friendly faces into government. Money never talks as clearly as when it is in power.

I hope I’m wrong and this ‘experiment’ fails in a couple of years. However, my feeling is that the ConDems will be around for a while. We better get prepared for that battle because if left unchecked, this government will set us back a couple of decades. As a nation, we cannot afford to let that happen.

Your thoughts?

Need Not Apply

2010-07-13T19:13:00.000+01:00

By Euclides Montes (@Gatulino)

We regret to inform you that your application for the position of XXX has been unsuccessful this time… More empty and generic pleasantries to follow.

‘Ah, and I had such a good feeling about this one’ he thinks. Just like he felt with each one of the 20 rejections that had come before. He moves to the kitchen where the cafetiere betrays the fact that he’s already overdone it with the coffee today.

He thinks about the pile of unopened envelopes on his dining table, the various requests for money going ignored for one day longer.

Time for a break, he thinks. Another cup of coffee and the newspaper online! The newspaper doesn’t help. “70 other people going for the same job”, “The toughest time to be a 20-something”, “Millions of jobs to disappear”. Voluntarily leaving his job to chase the ‘dream career’ suddenly doesn’t look too clever anymore.

He sighs.

‘No need to worry’ he reasons with himself. ‘Surely every generation has one of these moments. Although this really feels different. Who would’ve thought that after spending 3 years and thousands of pounds at university to gain a good degree, I was going to end being at the front line of a social struggle… a struggle to get a job!’ He smiles.

He trawls through the job sites again. Finds another position he likes. Another 8 page application. Another ‘equal opportunities monitoring form’. Another certain wait. Another certain negative email.

He ponders again on whether this should really be so. After all, creating news jobs instead of curtailing existing ones is surely a failsafe strategy to drive the economy out of recession? Surely pulling funds out of the job market is merely a cynical political move and it doesn’t take into account the people who are struggling to make ends meet?

He wishes he could get organised and write a few pamphlets and get people talking about this but he knows he can’t. He might be certain he won’t hear back from this other job application but he can’t afford not to apply.

He sticks his favourite artist of the moment on the CD player. He gets the coffee on the go again. Puts on his lucky hat on. Looks down on the page.

“NAME: ______________”

He sighs.

Cheap and Convenient

2010-07-06T17:18:00.003+01:00

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

It’s amazing how cheap and convenient tourism is these days. In the not-so-old days, to get a cheap getaway, you'd have to scroll through reams of teletext for hours. Sometimes days. Before you knew it, you'd built a trench around the TV. Now, it’s painfully easily to book a bargain-bucket holiday. The internet is like an electronic monopoly board of airlines, hotels and tour operators. Land on Ryanair: go directly to Germany, do not pass Go, do not collect £200.

This makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I say uncomfortable, because I'm in no position to delve into my normal self-righteous rant, and start preaching about sustainable tourism or carbon offsetting. I believe in these concepts. But I'm not perfect. If I was: rather than flying three times over the past year, I would have sailed on an elbow-powered raft made from sustainable wood. But the thought of sailing across the Atlantic sickens me with fear, which is not how I prefer to start my vacation. It's just more convenient to fly.

What we fail to see beyond the seductive deals, are the costs. Take Mexico's tropical peninsula in the Caribbean Sea, for example. Home to the sprawling, tourist-metropolis of Cancun; its coastline dominated by all-inclusive hotels. That's pretty convenient. Now tourists can enjoy some of Mexico's most beautiful beaches, courtesy of a foreign-owned hotel without all that third world baggage.

Mexico, however, is anything but a convenient country. It's riddled with corruption, drug warfare, police brutality, discrimination and poverty, to mention a few ailments. Admittedly, I don't have children or only two weeks of vacation a year, but what gives us the right to experience a safe Burma, an equal Kenya, or an efficient Mexico? Because we paid for it?

Instead of countries bending and cultures changing to accommodate the demands of tourists. Instead of deforestation caused by our insatiable thirst for traditional wood carvings, to put on top of the bookcase in the corner of our Ikea living rooms. Instead of the Masai performing hunting dances in front of tour groups, for hunts they have never seen and almost certainly will never do. We should be embracing the people of the countries we visit, in the context of their existing culture. Our holidays to distant lands are not just about us......

Apologies. I've just re-read this and it sounds rather like a rant. I'll spare you the bit about money enslaving us and everything stinking of colonialism......

So what do you think of cheap and convenient tourism?

Are Comediennes A Feminist Issue?

2010-06-29T14:32:00.002+01:00

By Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

A couple of weeks ago my fiancé and I took his brother and sister out-law to see one of the many pre-Edinburgh warm ups springing up along the long and winding road from North London to Scotland.

The bill was a fairly typical ex-fringe line up for this time of year: an unknown (man), an up and coming (woman), an established yet unknown (woman), an ex-fringe headliner (man) and a compere (woman). Two men, three women.

I laughed and drank in equal measure for the full 150 minutes, and yet, rather than starting up the normal post-show banter, I left feeling not quite sober and not quite disappointed, just somewhere between the two. Then my partner obliviously twisted the knife and brought the realisation screaming to the fore of consciousness.

Why are men consistently so much funnier than women? And why is my feminist fiancé talking to me about comediennes?

A friend immediately responded to the first question with:

“Joan Rivers is funny. Jo Brand. (sometimes) Victoria Wood. Josie Long. That big woman from bbc2. can't remember her name.

Tell you what is really funny. Clare in The Community (it is written by men though...)”

The thing is, I agree. All of the above are funny, which is because women are as funny, if not funnier, than men…in real life. Yet for some reason, on a stage the Y chromosome always seems to have the edge.

I’ve attempted a few possible explanations, each of which is probably a little bit true but ultimately weak in logic and relevance in 2010:

1) We’re used to seeing male comedians so are conditioned to hearing and seeing comedy delivered in a particular way. Mock the Week is a prime example of this. Until Frankie left, MTW was one of the funniest panel shows that’s been around for a very long time and so built up a core group of regular first class comic guests. And yet, the only regular female representation over the last 3 years has been Lucy-funny-but-oh-so-girly-Porter, and Gina-not funny-but-shouts-a-lot-Yashere.

2) There are still some subjects that though risky for a man, are absolutely taboo for a woman – Sarah Silverman’s brazen ignorance of this might explain her appeal.

3) Just with so many other industries, there is a new golden generation of funny women on their way, they just haven’t quite arrived yet.

4) Comedy’s lifeblood is the continuation and challenge of stereotypes, and so sexism (and every other type of ism), is not only permitted, but actively encouraged. The resulting laddish comedy that the likes of Frank Skinner, Russell Howard, Jonathan Ross etc. etc., built their names on is as unsurprising as it is insurmountable for women. So either the whole culture of comedy has to change – unlikely, or women will have to develop a new parallel culture – still differentiated.

None of the above really explains it though. Perhaps there’s nothing to explain and I’ve simply been hanging out in the wrong venues?

As for the second question, I can’t help but feel that one is a symptom of the other. The fiancé helpfully pointed out that comedienne is simply one of a million words in the dictionary. I, perhaps unhelpfully, shouted back “Yes but why? WHY?”

Unlike other European languages, English isn’t gendered. So then, why do we draw a differentiation within certain professions? More to the point, think about the professions, and occasions in which the feminine usage is common. Anyone remember when we used to talk about authoresses? I do. It was before female authors presented themselves to be on an equal playing field to male writers in terms of skill, wages and reputation. Female actors and comedians by contrast still lag behind their male counterparts in all of these fields. It works both ways of course, that strapping nurse you see in the corner isn’t just a nurse, no no, he’s a male nurse.

Call it cynicism but there seems to me to be an implication of superiority in the differentiation between male comedians and female comediennes… after all, can you think of any other reason why we’d need two different names for one profession?

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Dead Wrong - Pro Wrestling's Dirty Little Secret

2010-06-22T13:17:00.000+01:00

By John Ellul

Last month, a 56-year-old Floridian man suffered a pre-surgery heart scare when doctors believed they'd discovered an abnormality with his heart.

Nothing too unusual there, you might think, given the winning combination of uber-tanning and tight swimwear that they seem to embrace in that part of the world. For this particular individual, however, there are bigger things to worry about. Professional idiot and occasional wrestler Hulk Hogan was described as "very relieved" to find that, upon closer inspection, nothing was amiss with his EKG - this time.

In truth, sunstroke and a bad wardrobe could turn out to be the least of the Hulkster's worries if he knows what's good for him.

The death rate for professional wrestlers - recently retired ones in particular - is, frankly, shocking; a worrying trend equalled only by the shortage of people who know, or care. And therein lies the essence of my ponder - should we give two hoots about these muscle-bound morons?

In many respects, the reticence of both the British media and the public to get to grips with the trouble befallling the grappling game is to be expected. It's not British, it's not real, and to be honest, it's a bit silly.

That in it itself may render the topic less than newsworthy at first glance, but whether you classify it as sport or entertainment - or neither - it should cause shockwaves. If athletes in any other minor-interest overseas sport started dropping like flies, or the grim reaper started bumping off characters in a cult-status soap opera for no discernible reason, there would rightly be an outcry.

Not so in this lycra clad ghost story.

A conservative estimate puts the number of performers in the wrestling industry to die before the age of 50 since 1990 at nearly 80. Suspect heart attacks and other side-effects of an overreliance on anabolic steroids account for a large percentage of the dead. Another major culprit is the overdoses of painkilling drugs which many rely on to keep up with the punishing rough and tumble..

Deaths "on duty" are rare, but certainly do happen – just ask the fans who watched in horror as Mal "King Kong" Kirk died in the ring after receiving a routine "belly splash" from Big Daddy in Norfolk in 1987. And then there are the suicides...

Without a doubt the most heartbreaking tale in this Dead Wrestlers' Society has to be that of the Von Erich Family - a story in suicide that starts with Jack Adkisson, who wrestled across the United States in the 1950s and 60s under the lazy and exploitative Nazi-sympathiser persona of "Fritz Von Erich".

Never quite hitting the heights as a national star himself, Fritz (as he insist everyone call him) soon transferred his dreams of success to each of his sons, demanding a dedication to a lifetime in the wrestling industry from each of them. It was a psychotic single-mindedness that would have fatal results.

Already a hard and unsympathetic man, Fritz's negative outlook on life took another hit when first son Jack Jr. was accidentally electrocuted and drowned in a puddle at the age of seven.

His desire to create a winning wrestling dynasty initially looked in good hands, and son David Von Erich, proficient, good-looking and wildy popular, was set for greatness. Days before a scheduled world title win which would have catapulted him to international stardom, David was found dead in his hotel room in 1984, victim of a recreational drug overdose.

Without missing a beat, the pressure then shifted to younger brothers Kerry, Mike, and Chris Von Erich. Pushed to return from injury prematurely by his father, Mike suffered toxic shock syndrome, and took an overdose of tranquilisers in 1987. Depressed at his inability to make it as a wrestler, and frustrated with his slight physique, Chris shot himself in 1991, aged just 22. He had, he wrote in his suicide note, "gone to be with David and Michael."

Kerry was the only one to make it to the big leagues of the WWF. Rivalled only by David in his fondness for recreational drugs, Kerry had a long rap list of car crashes, arrests, overdoses, and other close calls. Worried that his latest arrest would result in lengthy imprisonment, Kerry shot himself in the heart in 1993.

Legend has it, when sixth and sole surviving brother Kevin confronted his father about the pain and sorrow he'd inflicted on the family, he was told: "I'm proud of them. You were always too much of a coward to kill yourself."

It would be easy to dismiss these deaths as the product of a harrowing family environment, but the pressures of the crowd clearly weighed too heavily on them and many others. As former WWE champion Robert "Rob Van Dam" Szatkowsky explained in 2009:

"In our world, as big as the news of a wrestler dying can be, we always know it's not going to be the last. Anytime a wrestler dies, we're automatically thinking, 'Okay, who's next?'

And that, in a nutshell, is the life of a wrestler - the life they chose.

Things have improved immeasurably since February 2006 when the company introduced its Talent Wellness Program, a direct reaction to the high-profile drug death of headliner Eddie Guerrero the previous December. Ever since, any violations of the frequent are publicised on WWE's own website, with suspensions and contract terminations for persistent offenders, as well as the option of paid-for rehab.

But it still goes on.

How can you tell? Look out for acne next time you see wresting on TV - especially on the back and shoulder blades. It makes for alarming viewing.

Then again, who cares? No one apparently. Until it happens to a huge, international star, I bet.

Cue, Mr Hogan...

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The Beautiful Game

2010-06-15T12:51:00.001+01:00

By Euclides Montes (@gatulino)

I found myself in a peculiar position recently. As you might already be aware, there is some sort of football competition going on at the moment and being one of the many loony football fans around the world, I could barely contain my excitement. Having been born in a country whose World Cup experience is painfully risible, my allegiance has squarely been with the English team for the last decade or so, yet I found myself defending my position as an England supporter recently in conversation amongst a group of British-born fans. Peculiar indeed, in my opinion.

Of course there are the obvious – and to an extent reasonable - arguments of ‘why bother?’. With the English team it’s usually a matter of ‘we came, we saw, we stuttered, we went home with our tail between our legs’. The echoes of ’66 still ringing as loud and heavy as the vuvuzuelas in South Africa. We all know that we’re probably going to face Portugal or Germany at some point, and that Lampard will take that pivotal penalty kick and … well, I can even see The Sun headline already ‘HE BENT IT LIKE BECKHAM’. But surely that’s no reason to stop supporting our team. After all, being a glutton for pain and disappointment is an essential requirement for football fans everywhere, especially if you are an [insert your own team here] supporter. And besides, this could be our year after all!

Add to that the fact that some of our players will never make it into any of our Christmas card list and that the modern state of the sport mean that some of those disliked players still command ridiculous sums week in, week out and you can understand why some people have chosen to forsake the national team and support teams from other countries. As I said above, understandable.

However, one criticism I have seen gathering pace recently is that of football – and the World Cup at that – being a prejudiced enterprise in almost every sense and just by supporting it I should almost feel ashamed of myself. I am a very woolly liberal, I’ll be the first to admit but this argument really grates. I know that the sport is not perfect in any shape or form. Corruption, overpaid stars, a tacit allowance of homophobia, racism and sexism, Sepp Blatter. These are evils that continue to plague football to this day. However, the advances the sport has made to clean itself from these problems have been vast and commendable and to dismiss offhand the pinnacle of what is possibly the most universal sport of the 21st century through a very loaded and hackneyed viewpoint is surely not helpful and even prejudiced in itself.

I understand many people’s discomfort to cheer for England. Some of our symbols have been appropriated by racists and extremists and I have no doubt groups like the EDL are having their birthday and Christmas all come at once - especially with so many lies spreading like wildfire. But surely to shy away from reclaiming our team, our symbols, our right to feel proud of our nation without the tinge of jingoism, in short to cower away is not be helpful. It would instead give those who hold these extremist views an open field to claim ‘supporting the English team’ as well and that surely is a worse state of affairs? Unquestionably everyone can see that supporting doesn’t equate thuggery in any sense?

Besides, beyond all those arguments, football will always be in its most basic form a beautiful spectacle but it is a spectacle that can bring people together and it always has done so successfully. It is flawed and it has issues that need resolving but surely to dismiss it offhand is not beneficial in any way whatsoever? Hmm…

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The Tipping Point

2010-06-08T17:52:00.004+01:00

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

The other day, I'm having coffee with a friend at our usual spot in a small town in Mexico when we stumble upon the subject of "tipping". Well, not exactly, my friend is a part-time waitress and I used to work at the same establishment, so the conversation was almost predictable. Anyway, my friend was relaying a funny story about a group of people she had served. To cut a long, hilarious story short and boring: five people walk into the restaurant; order smoothies, appetizers, main courses, and deserts; use the bathroom; compliment the restaurant and its service; ask about things to do and places to go; scrape their collective leftovers onto one plate to take-away and then leave.

But forget to tip.

I say forget because everybody knows that tipping is a universal custom, especially in restaurants. In fact, so common is this practice of leaving a small, monetary symbol of one's gratitude, that if all cultures were reduced to their common denominators, the only things left would be corruption, misogyny and tipping.

But it was my reaction to the tip story that has caused me to ponder. It went something like this: "What! Those bastards. I can't believe they didn't tip. How dare they? I hope they're all killed by flesh eating termites in a slow, unimaginable death."

Genuinely offended. But why?

I'm certain that some explanation can be found in the context: In Mexico, as in the US, the tip is integrated into an employee's contract, so that it subsidies a person's wage. To put it plainly: it's near impossible to survive off wages alone: so tips are one's "bread and butter". But this has nothing to do with the customer, and I'm not so obnoxious to think that the customer should be reproached for Mexico's flawed industrial relations.

No. I just hate it when people don't tip. I think it's rude. I can't explain why I'm so militant about this. I enjoy telling people that the tip is a defiant symbol of direct transaction, in a world riddled with credit cards and third parties. Voluntarily disregarding that many people tip using their credit card, of course. That the tip is a valuable way of rewarding someone's service. It's a polite acknowledgment. A redistribution of wealth. An end to inequality. A solution to climate change.

Or maybe I just tip because it makes me feel good...or less bad.

However paradoxical, I have a value system around tipping. And that's my ponder: Why do we tip? Where does this value system come from?

It seems that everybody has a moral framework around tipping. Some of us feel obliged to tip and some of us refuse to tip. Some of us only tip only when the service was good. While others guiltily slip out without tipping, as the waitress attends other tables. And there are also the percentiles: how often have you heard someone say that they tip 20% if the service was good and 10% if it wasn’t? Where do those percentages even come from? And of course there are the national stereotypes: Americans are good tippers, Italians never tip? I've even heard it said that some countries find tipping offensive.Not Cuba, apparently!

Tipping, for whatever reason, is incorporated into cultures, explained in travel guides, fussed over after dinner and ranted about between friends during coffee. We're all versed on the subject of tipping!

So tell me: What kind of tipper are you?

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I Said Atheist Not Anarchist…

2010-06-01T13:02:00.002+01:00

By Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

… or irrational being…or angry individual… or rebel… or antagonist… simply, but proudly atheist.

Not long ago I was speaking to someone who runs a Christian spiritual group that I’d heard of previously and thought sounded fairly interesting. I opened the conversation by saying: “I’m an atheist and realise that your organisation is Christian but I’m really interested and wonder if I would be welcome at one of your sessions?”

In case you’re wondering, there was nothing disingenuous about the request. At the risk of sounding like the racist who wheels his black mate Bert out as a stock defence, some of my closest friends are religious. More than that, I love religion. I think it’s one of the most powerful forms of social grouping. It gives people a framework through which to live and love. I of course see and fear its corruptible side, but if we’re honest, religion is only corruptible because humans are.

The response that I got was a ten minute spiel about how this form of spiritual Christianity was so empowering, open and awakening and then an abrupt halt, a pointed look and the following: “to be honest though Rachel, I wouldn’t bother with these labels like atheist, or atheism, they’re unnecessary and limiting. I would just allow yourself to be open. You don’t need labels.”

Open?? Labels?? Limiting?? If asking to join your teaching sessions isn’t open then pray tell, what is? AND, and, atheism is no more of a label than “Christian spirituality”, it’s a belief system, a way of viewing and understanding the world. And I’ve got to tell you, the world I see is beautiful. Evolution and Humanism is beautiful – even when it’s ugly.

Oh the fury, the shock, the fury.

I could be wrong, because I didn’t ask and it has been known, but I assume if I had said: “I’m Jewish, and I know that your organisation is Christian but I’m really interested in it and I wonder if I would be welcome…” I’d wager the -10.47 in my bank account that the answer would have been, “yes absolutely, we’re a really open group who focus on….”

I tell this story not because it’s the exception, but because it was the straw that broke this Rationalist’s back. So tell me, why is atheism such a dirty word? Whatever angle I approach this from, I genuinely don’t get it. Yet so pervasive appears to be the view that I’m starting to think that perhaps I’m missing something.

Alpha is free to advertise its courses on billboards nationwide. By contrast the British Humanist Association causes national outcry because of the sheer audacity of running its own advertising campaign, which is in turn slammed as being pious and preachy.

I would never dare, nor desire, to disrespect someone so deeply as to flippantly declare their belief system as an unnecessary label. It almost seems as though people take it as a challenge to their own views. Or perhaps that atheism is just a casual decision, as though we couldn’t decide between Allah or Buddha so opted for neither.

In case there’s any doubt, that’s not how it happened. I love being part of a Humanist community, I relish being challenged by others at atheist events (think church service without the robes or incense). Angry blog post aside, I have no desire to preach, or attempt to convert anyone to Rational Thought. I’m just tired of the ease with which people dismiss atheism, and so my beliefs, without considering any of the history or knowledge from which this beautiful movement that celebrates humanism arose. Am I wrong?

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Tattoos: What's All The Fuss About?

2010-05-25T13:10:00.001+01:00

By Matt Murdock

I have tattoos; several of them in fact. I got my first during my first year of University. I wasn’t drunk and I don’t have an accompanying funny pub story about it either. I designed it, edited it, paid the money and got it done. Simple. Then I got another, and another, and another, and another and then I went and got a really big one to cover one of the originals. Five years down the line I’ve filled my arm. The complication? I teach.

I would guess that even the more liberal amongst you were at least mildly surprised that I was a teacher. Celebrity endorsements and shows such as Miami Ink have unquestionably brought tattoos much more into public consciousness, but I couldn’t quite say that they’re mainstream yet. Yes, your pop idol and favourite sports personality have them, but not your doctor and certainly not your lawyer. But why? What’s all the fuss about tattoos?

Tattoos have been around for almost as long as we have. Mummies have been dug up with tattoos. They can be seen on tomb paints and ancient temple engravings. For as long as we have been aware of our bodies we have altered them and tattoos are a well established part of the tradition. Not that that’s why I get them; I just like them.

The art on my right arm may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s in no way offensive. And yet for some reason, some people genuinely do take umbrage. Meanwhile others can’t understand why I’m annoyed at being expected to have my sleeve permanently rolled down, as if it’s a perfectly natural assumption that I would have to. Why? What is it about tattoos that offends people?

I’m a good teacher. I interact well with my students and they seem to genuinely enjoy the learning that takes place in my lessons. I’m also well respected by most of the faculty, and yet my credibility is somehow challenged by the fact of my tattoos.

Let me paint a picture: you’re in a pub, or party or club whatever. You get chatting to a friend of a friend… that civil slight awkward party chat. You talk about your boring job that you hate, you notice his/her tattoo. You ask him/her if it hurt, they give some half-arsed reply, you ask what they do, they say doctor, you say (audibly or otherwise) really? It happens, it happens to me at every party I ever go to. Sometimes much more openly, people will say “seriously, with those tattoos, you teach? Are you allowed to?”. Sorry what??

I have my own thoughts on the matter. That perhaps tattoos, like other art, divide people and that this is what we love about them. I remember Damien Hurst’s, plastic half shark thing, my un-apt description should tell the reader that I didn't think all that much of it. Others apparently loved it and were willing to fork out immense piles of cash for it. I don't get it, perhaps like many people just don't get tattoos. But here my logic fails, because although DH’s version of art doesn't much appeal to me, it didn't offend me and yet my tattoos apparently do offend people. I really don't get what all the fuss is about.

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Wouldn't You Rather Know?

2010-05-18T13:01:00.004+01:00

By Euclides Montes (@gatulino)

Please forgive the shortness of this post. To be entirely honest, I’ve really been struggling to write it. I wasn’t sure whether to write a serious note or instead approach the question that’s got me pondering this week in a light-hearted way. In fact, I over thought it so much that at some point I even tried to write a poem! Thankfully for all of us, I remembered very quickly that, erm, I can’t write poetry.

This 19th of May is World Hepatitis Awareness Day and the reason that I’m finding this post a bit difficult to write is because this day is quite important to me. You see, I am Hepatitis B and Hepatitis C positive. I’ve had these two viruses affecting my life for over 13 years now. Half as long as I’ve been alive in fact! But that’s not really the point of this post. The reason I bring it up is because when I was first diagnosed, all those years ago, I underwent treatment for my illness and as far as I was aware, I cleared the viruses. A misdiagnosis that meant that for a whole decade I walked around completely unaware that these destructive illnesses were attacking my liver on a daily basis.

And that’s the problem with Hepatitis. By and large, it’s a very silent killer. It can go unnoticed for years and when left untreated, it can lead to very serious liver damage. It is estimated that at least 500 million people are infected worldwide by hepatitis, the disease costing the lives of over 1 million people every year. To put that in stark terms, one in twelve of us have a positive status, whether we know it or not. Even more worryingingly, some estimates suggest that one in every three health professionals in the western world might actually be affected by the disease. To give you my final fact of the post, that means that 3 times more people are infected by Hepatitis than HIV/AIDS, and yet public awareness of the risks is almost non-existent. And that’s where my ponder lies. Why aren’t talking about it more? Why is it that one of the biggest killers in our society doesn’t get the attention it deserves?

This lack of spotlight on the issue means that governments across the globe have neglected to fund research into cures for these diseases. Or even worse in my opinion, normal folk, like you and me, don’t know much about the disease. Something as innocent as sharing a toothbrush with someone affected by Hep C can mean that you have contracted this disease and what’s worse, you won’t even know it for years. Perhaps until it’s too late. I believe that’s definitely something worth talking about.

So please allow me to use this post to invite everyone to find out more about the risks hepatitis poses and if you think you might have been exposed to the viruses in any way, please get tested!

After all, in the words of a very bad poet:

With the stakes so high and the effort so low
I really have to ponder, wouldn’t you rather know?

Who Am I To Judge?

2010-05-11T13:53:00.005+01:00

By Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

So I have a question. It’s the type of question that I should no doubt be keeping to myself. The type of question that I just know is going to come back and bite me in the arse. It’ll probably be the noose they use to hang me when I run for Prime Minister at the second general election of the year – my bet’s on January. No? Isn’t that what they meant by political reform?

Anyway, back to my question. Here it is: what’s so wrong with being judgemental?

We’re taught from such a young age that to be a good judge of character is a good thing. It gives you the gift of hindsight without having to wait for the “hind”. And yet, we’re simultaneously taught not to judge, that to be judgemental puts you up there with Simon Cowell and Heather Mills. Contradiction much?

But don’t we learn to understand and broaden our own value systems by learning from those around us? And not only from those who taught us the values that we hold dear, but also from those who demonstrated to us what we don’t want to be. To judge others is how we measure ourselves, isn’t it?

Let me put my keyboard where my mouth is and put my judgemental-ness on display. I can read all I like about the ill effects of passive smoking and I know that I find the idea uncomfortable. I then see a mother smoking near a three month old baby whose lungs are about the size of a golf ball and I make a judgement – my judgement is that it’s wrong to smoke next to a young child.

In my judgement I’m fully aware that there may be a million and one reasons for why a woman (who I’ve judged to be the child’s mother) is smoking near a pram. Whatsmore, a million of them might have made any one of us reach for the Malborough Lights. But I’m not judging the woman’s character, I’m not judging her ability to be a mother, I am not judging anything except for the fact that the act itself is “wrong” – which makes the circumstances around it entirely irrelevant. Perhaps she’d even agree.

As far as I can tell, there seem to be two principle arguments for why being judgemental is deemed to be so terribly naughty. The first is the whole slippery slope logic. I judge the act and so I risk judging the woman, now that I’m judging the woman I’m clearly going to end up judging her ability to be a mother, and so on and so on. Except I don’t. I have no idea who she is, neither am I interested.

The other reason appears to be that we conflate the idea with lots of other genuinely ugly traits. Judgemental is defined as:

“Inclined to make judgments, especially moral or personal ones.”

Nowhere in that definition is there any implication of bigotry, prejudiced or discriminatory behaviour. The two don’t go hand in hand – or at least they don’t have to. My judgement actually doesn’t have anything to do with the woman or anyone else, it simply helps me to reinforce, or adapt, my own value systems.

I’ve made plenty of decisions in my life for which I’ve felt judged. At times it’s been a bit irritating to say the least, but it’s also fair enough isn’t it? All it means is that whoever it was judging me didn’t share the same values as I did on that particular issue. That they (or so they believed at the time) wouldn’t have made the same decisions as I did. And to be honest, I judge them a little for that so we go back to being even.

Maybe, and I do mean maybe, if being judgemental became a characteristic that we were able to respect, then perhaps we would be able to better articulate our own moral compasses. So rather than being mad at the bankers because “they shouldn’t have done it”, we could instead be able to express our judgement of people whose work ethic is centred around the creation of personal wealth – or not - perhaps we would instead have found that the only difference between ourselves and Sir Fred was scale… I doubt it, but perhaps. Then again, who am I to judge?

Before starting this ponder I felt fairly comfortable that I knew the answer to my question. Namely, “nothing”. There is nothing wrong with being judgemental. By paragraph two I’d realised I’d made a terrible mistake and there was plenty wrong. By half way through I’d found my way again and realised that it is ok. I end undecided. There are some characteristics that as a society we find inherently repugnant, and perhaps we need to accept that without challenge?

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Has Anyone Seen My Vote?

2010-05-04T18:31:00.002+01:00

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

After reading Rachel's post a couple of weeks ago, my mind has been buzzing with questions: If you don’t vote, should you have less rights? Is it possible to be an active citizen and not care who runs the country? I know plenty of politically disillusioned social workers, for example, who make a significant contribution to their society. Surely, change and participation can be measured in a number of ways? Thus, can complacency be reduced to a mark on a ballot paper? To vote or not to vote, that is certainly the question.

Quite honestly, I'll be glad when this election is over. Standing by hopelessly, as the UK's Prime Minister hopefuls attempt to bewitch us with elaborate, alas empty promises of progressive reform and future prosperity, plagues me with a host of political anxieties. It's not so much that all three candidates, in my opinion, are grossly unworthy of leading our country. It's the clatter of boring policy, which the cynical amongst us might argue pimps out limited solutions to increasingly complex and over-sensationalised issues. Not to mention purposely complicating the political process to avoid accountability for failed policies three months down the line. Not me of course. I see it more like an esoteric power struggle within a masonic minority, show-cased by a geeky media. Trying to watch televised debates, or inform myself through the press plunges me into a state of comotosis, from which I emerge confused and frustrated. There simply is no substitute for ideology.

Perhaps this small discomfort is the least I can do as a responsible citizen? Surely, it is our duty to all those who sacrificed themselves to universalise the vote, to exercise it? But I can’t help but feel this perspective is a little short sighted. After all, the Suffrage movement, and others to which we are all so indebted fought for the vote to challenge non-representation and have a voice, nothing less. But can we honestly say that the vote holds the same value today?

Our apathy is not so much with the quality of candidacy, but with the government itself. After all, the vote is only a means to an end. And this particular end, as the multitude expense scandals, lies and unjustifiable wars demonstrate, is in dire need of change. From this perspective voting is arguably propping up an institution that is simultaneously self-serving, contemptuous and ultimately powerless to respond to the poverty, insecurity and fear crippling our world at the hands of insalubrious multinational companies in blind pursuit of profit.

So as E Day dawns upon us, I have to ask: Why should we vote?

Who Wants To Pay For Healthcare?

2010-04-27T18:55:00.002+01:00

By Sarah Kingston

As a person who is a complete and utter klutz, (that’s an uncoordinated person for those of you who need to brush up on your Yiddish), it is a small wonder that I’ve avoided the hospital for most of my life. Up until a week ago I had survived with constant bruises, minor cuts and sprains as a result of my lack of grace but never hurt myself badly enough to sample the delights of the emergency services. This is not counting one incident that involved a car and black ice, not my own lack of coordination.

Last Thursday, however, I had my first run-in with NHS emergency services when I woke up in St. Mary’s A & E at 2.30 in the morning. The story goes that I was running for a bus, tripped and cracked my head on the pavement. I don’t actually remember any of this but have had a constant reminder throughout the week with the pounding of my brain and a terribly attractive clump of glue holding the back of my skull together.

After finally regaining consciousness I attempted to calm my tear-soaked friend Shell, one of my saviours that night, and proceeded to recite my name, shoe size and address several times. Not at the request of the nurse but for my own peace of mind. Satisfied that I was still the same person, my next overwhelming concern that trumped all others was that I had been cut out of my brand new dress, destroying the thing entirely.

I was feeling quite upset that the NHS had cut me out of a fair amount of money until I spoke to my American aunt the next day and her reaction (following concern and relief) was to point out that it was lucky I received a head injury in the UK instead of the United States. After getting over the fact that she’s used “lucky” and “head injury” in the same sentence, I thought about it and realised it really was quite fortunate.

Whatever anyone says about the inefficiency of the NHS, I was picked up quickly by an ambulance, received rapid and efficient care and even had a very attractive male nurse to look after me! Had I been back in the States I would have woken up with a much more excruciating headache due to an extremely large bill.

This led me to wonder how any of my fellow Americans back home can be fighting so hard against national healthcare. Do they enjoy paying a hefty bill after leaving the hospital? Many argue that the quality of care isn’t as good when health care is nationalised but isn’t it better to start with standard care for everyone and work up from there?

It seems that people are either resigned to paying too much for quality care or receiving sub-standard care for free, but I wonder, why can’t the government of the United States manage to offer free quality care for everyone?

No Vote = Less Rights?

2010-04-20T12:46:00.009+01:00

by Rachel Surtees
(@RVSurtees)

Today’s the day my good friends, today is the day. From midnight this eve, that will be it. No more chances. You quite simply will not be able to vote in this year’s general elections. Done.

There’s a high risk that this ponder will err on the judgemental so I’ll keep it brief.

If you don’t vote, should you have less rights throughout the course of that electoral term? I’m not entirely sure what that would look like, but along the lines of not being eligible to vote in referendums perhaps? Generally having less of a stake in the society that you didn’t help to shape?

Harsh? Maybe. But why not?

Fine fine I love politics; I was brought up on the shoulders of marchers. We all know that blah blah but that’s not what this is about. This isn’t about politics, it’s about us, people, society. It’s about caring enough about yourself and where you live (house, town, country, world) to click here, register and then on polling day take a gentle stroll down to the local polling station, put a little cross in a little box and that’s it. That’s literally all you have to do. Done*.

And if you don’t care enough to do that then why shouldn’t you have less of a say?

Some of the most common reasons I hear for why people don’t vote go along the lines of:

1) They’re all as bad as each other.

Perhaps, but someone will be voted in so just vote for the one that you think is least bad.

2) I want to send a message to the top that I’m fed up with all politicians.

Ok, either hold on to your message until the local elections, or go to the polling station and spoil your ballot paper. Not voting doesn’t send a message to anyone.

3) I forgot.

Don’t forget.

Generations upon generation fought for our right to vote. And yet, somehow it seems that we’ve forgotten that it’s not only our right, but also our privilege.

*if 5,000 more people had “done” that in the European elections and had voted for anyone except BNP, they wouldn’t have got in.

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Another brick...

2010-04-13T20:29:00.004+01:00

By Euclides Montes @gatulino

The tickets were booked, the walking boots broken into, the guide to hiking in the Himalayas already packed and the excitement of flying to the mythical-sounding Kathmandu was starting to permeate everything I did, from watching television to doing the washing up. Even the forerunner to this post, the one that you were supposed to be reading whilst my plane took me to Nepal was already written but then my partner called me to give me the news: “they won’t give you a visa”. Ouch.

The curse of being a dangerous, dodgy Colombian strikes again!

It had been a very long time since I had been in that position. After living in the UK for well over a decade and travelling all around the world relatively problem-free, my nationality has come once again to mess up my plans.

But were they right to deny my visa straight away? Just because my humble passport isn’t red like most British passports are?

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that the issues are more complex and complicated than the simplistic ‘will-they-won’t-they let me in’ that I describe above. Countries need to control their borders and sometimes it is important to ensure that certain procedures are in place to make immigration [even for tourism] manageable. But, surely, cases need to be looked at individually and all rules must have exceptions?

Back in the 80’s and 90’s, I kind of understand why Colombians like me were flagged and, like most Colombians, I grinned and bear through the extra airport controls, both retaining the moral high ground [‘you distrust me but I’ll be Gandhi-like and bear it’] and knowing that they’d have to let you in in the end [‘because I’ve already jumped through all your hoops and I’m clean’!]. But do blanket restrictions like that really work? Or are they just counterproductive in the end? I mean what exactly led the Nepalese immigration officer on Friday to go into a frenzy of email activity that climaxed in the legendary [ok, legendary in my household] sentence “Dear ******, Foreigners cannot enter in Nepal.”. Since that’s obviously not true in the first place, is it really necessary?

Someone whose opinion means the world to me opines that in the big scheme of our lives, these things are insignificant. And I agree. 100%. This reminds me of the words of John Berger on endurance “Meanwhile, the answers abound in the multitudes’ multiple ingenuities for getting by, their refusal of frontiers, their search for holes in the walls… their recurring acknowledgement that life’s gifts are small and priceless. Trace with a finger tonight her (his) hairline before sleep” (from ‘Ten Dispatches About Endurance’).

And, on that note, I come back to my original ponder: Were they right to deny me entry to their country based simply on the basis of the place I was born? By doing that, we are closing the door on something that could’ve been beneficial to everyone, not only in terms of the experience, but also in terms of how we could grow together perhaps as a global community. Now we will never know. What’s the point of building so many walls around each other?

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Goodnight Hollywood

2010-04-06T16:21:00.010+01:00

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue

Inside. The frenzied chants are a distance hum. Despair protects the silence.

Alex bursts through the open door of the hospital room. His shirt soaked with sweat. The others are already there. Each individual expression uniformed in misery.

He knows the answer, but is unable to stop his question:

"Is the screenplay dead?"

Roselyn stands and walks towards him. Softly grasping his hands, she speaks:

"My son. The battle has been lost. You must be strong".

He looks down and his heart forgets to beat. Sitting in the palm of his hand, moistened by his perspiration is a pair of 3D glasses and a ticket to the remake of "Clash of the Titans".

Outside. The streets are choked with the smog of burning cinemas. The atmosphere electrified by a serenade of wild chants. He walks towards his car, which has succumbed to the blaze. The flames illuminate the spray-painted inscription on the passenger door:

"Long live the 3D motion picture"

Defeated. He throws his manuscript into the inferno and heads towards the last remaining cinema.

End scene.

At the risk of being burned at the stake, shunned or spat on, I have to confess that I'm failing to share recent euphoria for the resurgence of 3D cinema. It's partly due to personal space; whilst others can’t contain their ecstasy over the sensation of cinematic images thrusting themselves onto the surface of one's cornea, I feel like my mind is being invaded by Oompa-Loompas with delusions of world domination. It’s not that I’m being contentious, but feeling like a lab rat simply isn’t my preferred cinema experience. All I gained from watching Avatar was a numbingly painful migraine, resulting in temporary psychosis and hallucinations of flesh eating plants.

But mostly, I detest feeling like I'm being sold something. And unless I'm otherwise missing the point, I see 3D cinema as yet another example of the ruthless marketing, along with trailers; merchandise and pathetic gimmicks designed to fob us off with the homogeneous, sequel inflated, uninspired fuzz that has saturated Hollywood over recent decades.

Of course, it's not always successful. Take the catastrophic flop of Uma Thurman's latest film "Motherhood". Apparently, its marketers thought they'd go down the exclusive path and only permit one cinema in London to show it, but then some idiot forgot to advertise it, or something like that. Alas, it only sold one ticket on its opening night. Note to Uma: next time you might want to enroll the experts at QVC, if there was ever anyone that could sell shit....

So my ponder is rather simple: what will the next decade of Hollywood look like? Are we doomed to an eternity of repetition, relentless sequels and unnecessary 3D technology?

These days movie makers seem locked in a battle for digital superiority. This would be fine if the fight was over how best to digitally enhance creative, or at best, inspired scripts. But it’s not. At least not as its main motivation. It’s more concerned with how technology can harness entertainment, so that it becomes a commodity to be sold, regardless of the product. In film speak: it’s the 3D which is dragging in record box office numbers. Whilst the film itself? Practically irrelevant.

And Avatar was just the beginning; so far this year Tim Burton's "Alice and Wonderland" and Louis Leterrier’s "Clash of the Titans" have also been released in 3D and we're only in April. Let the mental molestation begin.

Contrast this with Cannes, The British Film Festival and the various other independent festivals. This is cinema in all its glorious dimensions. I love being crippled by contemplation after watching movies like La Haine; Goodbye Lenin; City of God; Taxidermia. Even if these movies had been filmed in a tin can, they’d still be excellent. Because they offer something more. Right?

These types of movies should be what dominate the mainstream, not the margins. It’s not that I don’t understand that big budgets buy more technology, better actors and gifted writers.

But can cinema really be reduced to the sum of its parts?

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Ban The Freecycles?

2010-03-30T15:55:00.004+01:00

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

I know who I’m voting for in the general elections. There’s never been any doubt. On the surface that may appear to be an admission of political blindness. In actual fact it couldn’t be any further from the truth. No no, I am deeply, painfully aware of every nuance and manoeuvre in what can only be described as a modern day war dance. Every article and news report evokes a near on catatonic response whilst I attempt to play out every twist and connotation of the possible consequences in the wider context. It normally ends in a puddle of dribble and paralysis.

The all out attacks on Darling’s budget sends me into a state of doomed surety that it’s all over. Ah but wait, Sam Cam’s being cut down to size for daring to suggest she will continue to work after having the baby, regardless of whether her man becomes our main man… be quiet my feminist soul, we’re back in the game!

Amidst all of this, there is one constant and aggravating thorn in my side. It’s there lurking as I make my way work. I may think I’ve managed to dodge its grip but no, there it is again on my way home, just in a different guise. That’s right, fiend of fiends, the freecycles. Current king of the fiends? The Evening Standard.

Then again, perhaps freecycles are in fact just harmlessly digestible sources of news that save you from having to reread the same Well Woman advert all the way home? You can probably tell that my vote’s with the former option but I am prone to exaggerate.

There was one particular edition of the Standard that evoked such fury that I saved it, planning to furiously quote every source of irritation in this ponder. Unfortunately by a twist of fate it ended up in the rabbits’ litter tray – a fitting demise if you ask me. Anyway, in the absence of any evidence to back up my cries to ban the freecycle, I turned to the only true source of information about what fuels a newspaper: how they describe themselves to prospective advertisers. Here are just three quotes from their website…

“The ability of the Evening Standard to influence political community should not be underestimated.
1.3 million daily readers.
Highest circulating quality newspaper in the UK

It would be easy to dismiss all of the above. To think it doesn’t matter. That we’re all grown up enough to decide our own opinion on what we read. You’d be wrong. It does matter.

We’ve long since passed the point where newspapers concern themselves with the simple and objective reporting of fact. We now actively choose publications whose editorial bias is most closely aligned with our own opinions. The Sun’s latest advertising campaign isn’t based on their ability to report the news; it’s based on who their columnists are. And if there’s one thing that you can say about the Sun, they understand what their readership wants.

I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that. Editorial bias doesn’t mean that you spin or amend a story to fit a specific political view. Clearly some do, but that’s what the PCC is there for. No, what it means is that the type and quantity of a particular kind of story will be published above another, depending on the bias. And that’s exactly where the freecycle becomes dangerous.

If you are one of the “60% of Evening Standard readers who don’t read any other quality newspaper”, you would be forgiven for believing that the entire country is opposed to the Labour party, that rabid dogs are roaming the streets of London attacking grannies, and of course, the staple of all right leaning publications, that immigrants are taking over. Now if you were a Daily Mail reader you’d be comfortable with viewing the world through that lens. But then again, the Mail isn’t feeding you a hateful life view, it’s merely reinforcing the one that you currently hold which is why it’s your paper of choice. If on the other hand you’re innocently being handed a copy of the Evening Standard to “leaf through” on your way home, you will perhaps be less aware of the level of bias in the way that the world is being presented to you. The Standard isn’t doing anything “wrong”. It’s simply reporting in line with its clear and open editorial bias… that doesn’t make it any less manipulative or dangerous.

With a general election on our doorstep, there has surely been no better time to ban the freecycles, or at the very least regulate them to impotency. The problem is, with the general election on our doorstep, there’s probably never been a worse time to attempt to ban them. Maybe I’ve got it wrong though, maybe it is all harmless?

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Are Americans better at English?

2010-03-23T15:22:00.002Z

By Sarah Kingston

As an American doing a reverse immigration back to the English Motherland there are many dangers to consider at any one time.

I’ve had to learn not to end any and all arguments with triumphant references to the Revolutionary War (that’s The American War Of Independence to y’all). I face death daily whilst trying to cross the street and finding that the oncoming traffic is oncoming from the wrong direction… or is it the left direction? But by far the most perilous thing I have encountered is American English vs British English – pronunciation, spelling, word meanings… and all.

The consequences of this difficulty range from embarrassing references to needing to change my “pants” meaning, of course my trousers, to remembering to add unnecessary extra letters to words such as coloUr and humoUr. The most frustrating of all? Not being understood at 2am in the kebab shop when asking for chilli sauce but no “to-ma-do-s”. There may be other factors at play there.

I have, on the whole, accepted my inferior speaking ability with good grace until a few weeks ago when a friend of mine told me that American English is actually closer to English in its earlier, purer forms. And that my good friends, is called vindication. Now before you scroll down to the “post a comment” section, I feel it necessary to add that the aforementioned friend is not only English but also an amateur linguist. You can imagine my surprise, my glee, and it got me thinking.

The British tend to believe that because they started the language and deliver it in a much more pleasing way (this I really can’t deny), that their form of the language must be correct, but I wonder, is it really?

Browsing the internet, which as we all know is the only foolproof source of information, I saw several references offering further validation to my friend’s, and now my own, statements. One site claimed that the dialect of the Ozarks is very close to Elizabethan English.

While the last American Head of State was a complete embarrassment to any form of the English language , or any form of communication whatsoever while we’re at it, he doesn’t represent the speaking capabilities of the rest of us. Some Americans can even string whole sentences together , shocking, I know.

And while the Brits remain confident in their speaking abilities I must say that there are several dialects that are barely intelligible and certainly don’t follow the laws of “the English language.” In fact there is a whole film dedicated to this concept with Henry Higgins asking “Why can’t the English learn to speak?

Readers, please don’t get me wrong, I’m not another puffed up American patriot who thinks that we created the universe and do everything right. There is a reason I’m living in England and the sound of my own American voice often makes me cringe. But accents aside, I do have to wonder – are Americans better at English?

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The Sins Of Our Fathers

2010-03-16T14:13:00.002Z

By Euclides Montes @Gatulino

It's been a bad couple of weeks for the Catholic Church. Defending itself from accusations of cover ups of child abuse – involving in some cases some of its highest dignitaries – the Church has taken some powerful knocks and not for the first time it has been called upon to explain itself.

Some in the atheist camp would have probably followed this news with more than a tinge of schadenfraude. But I imagine that most would have also shared my discomfort and sadness at each new development in the knowledge that each new crisis will almost inevitably mean another set of lives that will have been changed forever.

This had led me to ponder about religion and its place in society. Should we be pushing our society to a state of complete secularism where religion is simply a personal interest and its institutions regulated as any other public institution? Or would curtailing religious freedom perhaps lead us to miss out on the benefits generally associated with religion?

It’s a tricky argument and I’ve found myself at times getting angry and ready to take up some metaphorical weapons and fight against religion and what I perceive as all its evils; whilst at other times I find myself thinking about the good things religion has to offer and how sad a place the world would be for so many – some very close to me– without religion. It’s at this juncture where you join me and will hopefully be able and willing to help me ponder a bit more about this.

It is undeniable that religion can be, and by large is, a positive influence in people’s lives. Although it would be impossible to analyse religion as a whole in just a few lines, the significance of its role in helping people to deal with a variety of situations, from grief to imprisonment, is clear.

However, we only need to look to the scandals mentioned above, or the influence of the profitable right-wing Christian communities in America, or the extremist elements in Islam to see that it is also clear that religion brings into the social forum a large amount of negative baggage. And this is where my ponder lies. How can we find a balance between the religious and the social spheres?

So, should we be pushing our societies to a stage of overt and complete secularism? Where religion is reserved for the privacy of our own homes? In this scenario, religious institutions would be accountable to secular society and religious rites and customs would be informed by the accompanying secular values, rather than the other way around.

Alternatively, should we feel that the secularisation of our society is undermining some of the religious values that many have come to identify with Western civilisation?

It’s a tricky argument indeed but one that I feel can only be beneficial if everyone thought about it at some point in their lives. After all, whether it is faith schools or extremism, religion has been a regular feature in the arguments that have shaped the news over the last decade.

So, I open the floor and ask you, where should the balance lie between religion and society? Should we be pushing for an official inquiry into paedophilia in the Catholic priesthood in Ireland for instance, and expecting priests to be judged and held accountable just as any other person in a position of trust like a doctor or a lawyer would be judged? Or should we be giving the Church certain concessions and trust that there are enough internal systems of accountability to act as safeguards for everyone?

I invite you to think about this whilst we celebrate St Patrick’s Day and hopefully you’ll let me know what you think in the comments below.

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A Question For The Executioner

2010-03-09T18:15:00.007Z

Candice Carboo-Ofulue

Am I alone in feeling a little concerned about the level of moral panic gripping the nation at the news that Jon Venables has returned to prison? It's not so much that the media are speculating with sensationalist reporting, but an unease that this moral panic is steadily evolving into a public trial by a terrified and vengeful British people. Jubilantly manipulated by the media. Speculation is serving as evidence and the government is being forced to defend its silence.

Should I be surprised? Venables, along with Robert Thompson committed one of the most horrifying crimes in British history when they kidnapped, tortured and murdered two-year old James Bulger. It shocked the nation, not just because of its violence but also by the age of the perpetrators. At ten-years old Venables and Thompson became the youngest convicted murderers in modern British history. Just as Myra Hindley had violated the purity of womanhood, Venables and Thompson obliterated innocence by proving that children are capable of cold-blooded murder. It signified the commencement of society's decay. Or at least that's what we thought.

So as new fears refresh old wounds, I'm pondering....Is Venables guilty for life? Are some crimes simply unforgivable? Can we justify punishment without rehabilitation?

Of course, the value of rehabilitation in society has enormous consequences for the criminal justice system. What if the will of the people is simply to punish, should the criminal justice process be adapted? Media trials; indefinite life sentences and capital punishment? That may allay our fears but does it keep us safe? I'm sure that incarcerating Venables for life would not have stopped the Edlington brothers from torturing two young boys. I suspect that these motivations can be found in their experience of relationships, family, education....

So I guess my final question is: If it is not our desire then should it be our responsibility to understand the will of the killer?

Thoughts?

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If The Day Was An Hour Shorter...

2010-03-05T12:43:00.005Z

by @PonderBoxes

Last week’s earthquake in Chile was quite simply devastating. So much so that words can’t suffice. It goes without saying that a tragedy on such a scale will have a profound and lasting impact on the Earth’s inhabitants. But perhaps more surprising was that it has also had a profound and lasting impact on the Earth itself. So forceful was the earthquake that some scientists believe the earth was knocked off its axis brining about shorter days. In reality we’re talking about microseconds, but, nevertheless it got us thinking. If the day was an hour shorter…

Bertie Vogts

If the day was an hour shorter… it would be a great excuse to start completely disregarding my personal hygiene. I could tell concerned friends and co-workers that I had to cut out the hour where I shower, clean my teeth and wipe crumbs out of my beard.

Joshua Surtees

If the day was an hour shorter...there'd be more opportunity to lurk under cover of darkness and trip any passing dwarves.

Sarah Kingston

If the day was an hour shorter… the office workers of London, already on the brink of a sunless existence during the winter months, would be certain never to see daylight. Now the close kin of the walking dead, they would flock to the falsely lit pubs for solace, and beer sales would rise - nothing much, it seems, would change.

Candice Carboo-Ofulue

If the day was an hour shorter… I would be far more productive because I would have less time to procrastinate.

M. Foot

If the day was an hour shorter… George Osborne would still be a cunt.

Alan Scott

If the day was an hour shorter… there would be approximately 14,709 less people born each day. So we'd loose 14,709 people who might one day have ended poverty or cured a disease. Tackled prejudice and discrimination, promoted equality or helped someone who wasn’t themselves.

Steph

If the day was an hour shorter… I’d sleep less, eat less but work the same. Making me a slightly sleepy version of my old self.

Euclides Montes

If the day was an hour shorter... we'd still find the time to build walls around each other.

Rachel Surtees
If the day was an hour shorter… Cinderella would have remained a princess and I would forever mourn the loss of midnight’s chime.

http://www.redcross.org.uk/donatesection.asp?id=103135

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The Etiquette Of Riding A Bus

2010-03-02T13:29:00.004Z

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

Etiquette isn’t really a word that you hear bandied about much anymore. It’s become a relic of the past like corn beef, or petticoats. But enough is enough Britain (or do I just mean London?); surely it’s time to reinstate some etiquette on the buses? Reaffirm a code of honour? Reinstate a mode of practice?

So today, you’re not going to get a traditional ponder. You’re going to get ten micro ponders - all for the price of one.

Try to answer a couple of them. However, if like me you fail to find any reasonable explanations for any or all of the below maybe it’ll spur you to take a bus down to City Hall and have a little chat with Boris. Here goes…

The Boardee

1. You’ve been waiting for over 20 minutes, during which time three buses have driven past without stopping. I know because you told me. You told all of us in fact… at volume. I understand that you were very busy with all of that waiting that you had to contend with, but surely, surely you could have found the time to unzip you bag, stick your little hand in it, rummage around a bit and pull out your oyster before boarding the bus?

2. Do you genuinely think that stepping onto a packed bus and shouting “can you move down please” is actually going to create more space? Believe me when I say I don’t enjoy journeying with my head wedged into a fat man’s armpit so if you see it, don’t ask me to move down. I would if I could.

3. When you see a pack of school kids running at the bus like donkeys in a derby do you really think that your perfectly rehearsed look of disdain is having any impact? Do you really think they care? I tell you, it’s far more fun to just do like Rome and get stuck in. Run faster, get your elbows out, tread on their little toes, push ‘em over to get to the seat first.*

The Boarded

4. Why did you open the window? It’s mid winter and there are 50 other people on this bus.

5. When did we stop standing up for the elderly and pregnant? Seriously, we’re known internationally for having debilitatingly good manners and yet all that we currently seem to have is a debilitatingly sophisticated system of selective blindness.

6. Do you not think it’s time to buy better headphones?

The Driver

7. You saw me running, right?

The Others

8. Dear Car Driver,

Can you see that pulling out into a queue of traffic and blocking the four oncoming buses carrying over 200 people to work is a deeply, deeply selfish thing to do?

Best

An Angry Bus Rider

9. Dear School Run Driver,

Can you see that stopping in the middle of a one lane road to drop little Timmy and Josie off, thereby blocking the buses carrying 200 people to work is a deeply, deeply selfish thing to do?

Best

A now late Angry Bus Rider

10. Dear Pigeon,

Can you see why flying directly into a bus might be fairly disturbing for those inside the bus?

Best

So? Any answers?

* Calm down. I’m kidding.

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Sexy Kids

2010-02-23T12:37:00.003Z

By Euclides Montes @Gatulino

Last week one of the strangest occurrences took place in my household: David Cameron came on whilst I was watching the evening news to talk about something and just as my partner was getting ready to stop me from throwing my shoes at the TV again whilst foaming at the mouth and shouting expletives, she actually found me nodding along to what the Etonian darts-lover had to say. And although it would be difficult not to agree with him on this one at face value, my ponderings this week have been giving it a good go anyway.

The issue out of which he was trying to build policies was what he called the ‘sexualisation of children’ from an early age. You know, giving little babies t-shirts with sexually explicit words on them, allowing young girls to wear padded bras or listen to Lilly Alen. That kind of thing. And that’s why I say that, at face value, it’d be difficult not to agree with him. I’m sure not many of us would like others to see our children as sexual beings and even more, we’d prefer our kids to feel free to be children for as long as they want before getting entangled in complicated world of sexual politics.

This was made clear to me a few months back at my nephew’s birthday when a similar issue came up. My partner and I [childless] bought him for his 3rd birthday the most beautiful miniature Arsenal kit. As he proceeded to put him on, I could see the other [child-bearing] guests dropping their humus-covered carrot sticks disapprovingly as we ran around playing in the playground. But you could see their point. Parents perhaps shouldn’t bring their own habits, likes and beliefs into their kid’s lives. In an ideal world, they should grow up in a well grounded environment where they’ll have enough tools to make their own decisions on their own. So whether it is an Arsenal kit or an ‘I’m a future WAG’ t-shirt, adults shouldn’t be providing children with these adulthood entrapments that could define their lives, right?

Well, not quite really. Childhood in itself is defined by a constant lack of self-awareness that leads to scraped knees, broken windows and that general sense of ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck-ness’ that kids possess. Just by wearing an Arsenal kit, my nephew is not guaranteed to be an Arsenal supporter when he grows up. Heck, it doesn’t even guarantees he likes football! By that same token, allowing little girls to sing along to Rude Boy won’t necessarily define their lives and ensure that when they get old they become, erm, singers*.

So, what does this mean? Is this simply the politicisation of children-wear? Not really. I think that it’d be a far too harsh assessment on Mr Cameron’s words. I believe some of these concerns are very real and we need to be talking about them more often. But I don’t believe that moving to ban pre-teen magazines and chase the bib-making industries is the way forward? Surely it’s better for kids to be prepared for their adult lives by not being patronised and instead take control of the conversation? I don’t know about you but sexual-related stories welcomed me when I joined primary school and I believe that maybe I’d like to know what myths and facts my kids are picking up? And who should be in charge of that? Do we really want the government taking the lead? My gut feeling is that the responsibility for this one should land right on the parent’s laps. However, I reckon I could be persuaded.

Or maybe I’m really missing the point. By thinking that kids are either unaware or uninterested in the connotations of Rihanna’s song, I’m doing the argument a disservice and I should really be worrying a bit more about it?

*Particularly telling that coverage of this particular item of news focused almost entirely on ‘girls growing up too fast’ and I didn’t really see the sexualisation of boys covered anywhere. Hmm… I don’t have enough space here to run on one of my feminist rants now though so if you picked up on this as well, drop a comment below!

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Shaking In My Liberal Boots

2010-02-16T18:38:00.006Z

By Candice Carboo-Ofulue @Candaloo

Call me cowardly but if the members of the Tea Party Movement are representative of REAL America, I shall be reconsidering my trip to Las Vegas. Which is unfortunate given that the existence of Sarah Palin and her spawn has ruled out skiing in Alaska. It's not that I'm intolerant, or that I don't like Americans, I just worry that idiocy is catching.

This time, it's fear. What can be more frightening than, in non-euphemistic terms, the first annual congregation of America's pedigree bunch of militant, climate change denying, islamaphobs? Except of course, if that same convention was also attended by a prejudiced ex presidential candidate, bigoted senators and an organisation, which seriously believes that Obama is an alien. Oh wait, that happened. Combine all that fear and paranoia with a Keynote address from Sarah Palin and her duplicitous hand-full of politics, and the political circus is complete. Funny, right? Until one considers the influence of some of the members, and then it's just frightening. Don't get me wrong, this is not supposed to be a rant against Americans, or even Republicans, unless of course you are a stupid Republican, in which case this will probably be uncomfortable reading.

Anyway. As I read through the movement’s cries for revolution, I started to ponder: Should we be worried about the ignorance and paranoia that festers within the Republican Party? Are the extremists taking over mainstream politics? Or, are we dealing with a bunch of innocuous zealots that are best left ignored?

Ignoring is exactly what the politicians on both sides seem to be doing. Whilst the Liberals relax under the reign of President Obama and patronisingly dismiss the 'tea partiers', the Republican moderates whine that the media is disproportionately focusing on the extremists to undermine their credibility. Dangerous avoidance?

The truth, of course, is that there is nothing marginal about ex presidential candidates, senators, pastors, along with FOX news, all popularising extremism. That's an influential section of the country, which is alarming and regressive. I was shocked when I read that Utah's House of Representatives recently adopted a resolution by 56-17, which refuted the science of climate change. According to representative, Mike Noel: climate change is an elaborate conspiracy to control Americans through sterilisation and abortion. Really, Mike? I do hope this is an ostentatious attempt to undermine the science in order to keep your SUV. But I suspect it's skeptical ignorance.

So what is the impact on the public? It seems that while liberals and moderates meander down the path of denial; a large proportion of Americans seem all too willing to listen to these extremists? Simply look at the media coverage; the tea party goers are a growing minority. Perhaps this is normal given the Obama effect or a failure of the liberals to take them seriously? Or maybe they're preparing for the next election? Personally, I find the whole thing uncomfortable.

To leave you with a final thought: What I find most disturbing when I listen to Sarah Palin is the illusion of innocuousness. Is she the right type of person for the wrong type of politics? Hmmm.

*I apologize to any Americans that were injured whilst reading this opinion; I'm simply a concerned global citizen. Thoughts?

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Justice Seen, Justice Done?

2010-02-09T11:25:00.007Z

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

The other day I heard an advert on the radio that chilled me to my very core. I’ve tried and failed to find a transcript of the aforementioned ad so you’ll just have to take my word on how chilling it was. Perhaps you’ve heard it? It went a little something like this:

Community Payback is punishment handed out by the courts. It is physical, demanding work carried out by criminals in the community. Offenders have to wear bright orange jackets that say “Community Payback”. To vote for or nominate projects in your local area that could benefit from the scheme please enter your details into the website. Justice seen, justice done. Brought to you by the Ministry of Justice.

Justice done? Seriously? Surely this isn’t justice; it’s a crass and poorly thought through attempt to convince the masses of our ability to tackle crime.

It probably won’t come as any surprise that I’m not part of the bring-back-the-gallows brigade, but I do believe that criminal behaviour should be met with tough and appropriate punishment and re-education. That’s not what this is. This is government sanctioned public humiliation. What’s more I think we should be ashamed.

To add a little detail to the Community Payback scheme, it replaced Community Service in 2003 despite widespread concern about the ethics of the programme. Anyone “eligible” for the scheme can’t be deemed to be a danger to the public so it's not a huge leap to translate that to mean that in effect it’s for low level offenders, perhaps with repeat convictions but not for any violent or “serious offences”. There's worryingly little information available on the actual detail of this scheme so logical leaps are all we have to go on.

For me the message that we’re sending out is fairly unequivocal. It’s a message of failure. ASBOs didn’t work; all the prisons are full; fines don't get paid; Community Service wasn’t visible enough. We failed to change your anti-social behaviour so now we’re going to resort to shaming you in the hope that that may work. Oh and we’re going to do it in the community that we want to reintegrate you into after you’ve completed your 300 hours of scraping shit off our shoes.

We all know the stats at play here, so much so that it’s barely worth repeating. Those involved in anti-social behaviour and low level crime will normally be young, male and from a low socio-economic background. That’s not an excuse, it’s an entry point. We already know how to effectively reach this population. Charities and the voluntary sector are doing it all the time, so are commercial companies, busy hawking their products. So why can’t the Government manage it?*

Rather than resorting to naming and shaming surely our resources should be being poured into prevention - if for no other more virtuous reason, it’d be cheaper. Going into schools, youth clubs, houses if necessary and educating our youth about social and personal responsibility. Offering other options, opportunities; giving them something to do; reaching out a helping hand when it’s needed.

And don’t even get me started on being able to “vote or nominate projects”, this isn’t Britain’s Got Criminals.

Lay people having such a powerful voice in crime prevention and justice is a dangerous precedent to set, if it wasn't we wouldn’t have a need for the police, or judges, hell we probably wouldn’t even need traffic wardens.

I really don’t want to underestimate the impact of crime (whether low level or serious) on either individual victims, or communities as a whole. And one thing that is clear is that something needs to be done to restore public confidence in our justice system. But, change must come from genuine attempts at systemic change across all of our law enforcement agencies. A starting point would be if we could decide on what prison is actually for (protection of the public? punishment? rehabilitation? re-education? education? all of the above?). What we don’t need is yet another short sighted gimmick to win votes.

Of course many would vehemently disagree. They’d probably say that it’s this kind of liberal thinking that's allowed criminal behaviour to flourish unchallenged and unpunished. In fact, maybe it’s me who needs a hi-vis jacket, start paying my community back. Maybe I’ve got it completely wrong?

*This isn’t a dig at Labour; I don’t believe that any of the big three would manage it right now because there simply isn’t the political will to try.

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Let Him Die, Let Him Die, Let Him Die

2010-02-02T12:55:00.005Z

by Joshua Surtees

Last week I was shocked to read about a mother who had been sentenced to life in prison for killing her son. Not shocked in the way you might think. Shocked because she should never have been punished for her crime.

Frances Inglis, 57, from Essex was found guilty of murdering her severely disabled 22 yr old son with a lethal overdose of heroin. Her son, Tom, sustained permanent brain injuries in an accident in 2007 which left him paralysed, unable to speak and totally dependant on 24hr care in a care home.

Under High Court legislation, she would have been legally entitled to apply for a court order allowing her son’s food and water to be withheld – essentially allowing him to die very slowly of starvation. Starving a permanently disabled or terminally ill patient by removing their feeding tubes is considered legal in Britain. Yet, ending their life painlessly with a shot of heroin is seen as murder.

In almost complete contrast, a few days later another mother, on trial for assisting her long-term ME daughter to commit suicide was acquitted by a judge and the Crown Prosecution Service criticised for even bringing the case to court.

The difference here, in the eyes of the law, was that Lynn Gilderdale, aged 31, bedridden and suicidal after 17 years living with ME(chronic fatigue syndrome), had made it clear to her mother she wanted to die and had previously attempted suicide. Her mother Lynn Gilderdale administered lethal injections of painkillers to her daughter and she died as per her wishes. After the jury had reached a unanimous not guilty verdict, Judge Bean went on to describe Mrs Gilderdale thus: "There is no dispute that you were a caring and loving mother and that you considered that you were acting in the best interests of your daughter."

What kind of legal system are we operating under where such polarisation can exist in two extremely similar cases? One in which a mother kills her sick daughter and is called “loving and caring” while another kills her brain damaged son and is told by the judge "you cannot take the law into your own hands and you cannot take away life”.

This is quite frankly ludicrous and an immediate review of the right to die laws must surely be invigorated by these cases. The defining point here is of course that Tom Inglis, mute and only able to communicate by squeezing his mother’s hand was not able to verbalise his wish to die. His mother knew he wanted to die. She knew that she would want to die in such a situation. In all honesty everybody would wish to die in such a situation. Frances Inglis had the full support of her family in her actions, she was supported by Tom’s girlfriends and she almost certainly had the full support of the son that she killed. But we will never know that because it cannot be proven beyond reasonable doubt that he wished to die.

Meanwhile, Martin Amis, never shy of provoking controversy waded into the ongoing debate on euthanasia with a staggeringly insensitive rant in which the phrase “euthanasia booth” was mentioned.

A “booth” Mr Amis? A fucking “booth”?? A booth is found in a local Wetherspoon’s or Nando’s. A booth may be found on a seaside pier or fairground attraction. A booth may be used to house a telephone or perhaps a secret item or artefact. A booth may be used (in Amsterdam) to have a quick secretive wank. A booth is a place somebody sojourns to. But, the last time I checked, the word ‘booth’ is not an adequate description of a place where somebody goes to die. The ongoing debate calls for dignified utterances, sensitivity, understanding and compassion. It’s not really a place for crudity or crass jokes. This is not Knowing Me Knowing You with Alan Partridge.

Leaving the ill advised misattribution of the word booth to one side for the moment, Amis actually made some very relevant points about the fact that people as individuals should have the right to die when they want to die. They should not be forced to go on enduring a life they no longer gain any pleasure or satisfaction from, and which in actual fact brings them a lot of pain; whether in physical or emotional form. In short, Amis supports individuals’ rights to euthanasia.

He also made a salient point that is presumably shared by many, though in this instance laced with dark humour. "Frankly” said Amis “I can't think of any reason for prolonging life once the mind goes. You are without dignity then. Awareness of loss is gone, the track is gone. You don't know the day you've spent watching Teletubbies; it just vanished."

My Nan, for as long as I can remember, has always said almost as a mantra “oh Joshy, when I’m old and can’t look after myself, don’t let me carry on living”. Now, granted, my Nan is a fairly morbid character when it comes to the topic of aging and dying. But she speaks from a position of knowledge and experience. For 25 years she worked as the sole warden at an old people’s home, caring tirelessly and dutifully, visiting each and every person every morning and afternoon, arranging their meals and their entertainment. Some of these old people were very old. Many of them were never visited by their families. Some of them had terminal illnesses, some of them had no control over their bladders or bowels, some of them wanted to die in their sleep as quickly as possible. They would tell my Nan this. She saw and heard at first hand the things Martin Amis refers to; the fact that some people, in a very real sense, want to die. Not all of them of course. Some of them were happy to sit all day watching daytime television, chatting nonsense to each other and sucking Everton mints. And that’s a thing to be celebrated. To continue enjoying life into old age is a wonderful thing. But many people don’t. And many people cease enjoying life long before they are old.

It seems that, at times, the law runs almost parallel to the Christian fundamentalist view of the right to life and that all human life must be preserved as a duty to God. I find this a selfish point of view, and a selfish interpretation of the law.

There have been many many cases of assisted suicide in recent times. But as well as successful applications, there have also been applications to go to Dignitas in Switzerland to die that have been refused. Are we living in a fair and democratic society when a person who wishes to die can be refused that wish?

To end, these are some of the things the Tom Inglis case, and many others like his, got me thinking about. Should his mother have let him die at all? Who should have the right to make the decision? Doctors, lawyers or his own mother? And when Frances Inglis did decide he should die, should it have been slow and undignified over a period of days or weeks from food deprivation? Or was she right to inject him with heroin? In her own words, sending him “to heaven rather than hell on earth”.

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Laughter On The Edge

2010-01-26T12:27:00.007Z

Euclides Montes @gatulino

If, like me, you’ve welcomed with incredible excitement the news that Chris Morris’ new film
has finally made its debut in the festival circuit, or probably chuckled at one of Frankie Boyle’s frankly daring BBC-aired jokes. Or maybe found yourself bewildered by the nationwide parody response to that Ross and Brand prank call, then it probably means that, like me, you enjoy your comedy edgy, satirical and, dare we say, anarchic and reckless with an ironic heart. In other words, funniness with teeth.

You will probably also have noticed then that a backlash of sorts has been occurring over the last year or so against exactly this kind of comedy. And in its place is an increased appetite for middle-of-the-road, big stadium routines; whilst the critics of edgy comedy have been growing more vocal and becoming more influential, and this has got me thinking: are we perhaps experiencing a turning point in the comedy environment in the UK?

The signs would indeed indicate so. After all, Morris’ film hasn’t even been shown to most reviewers in the UK [at time of writing] yet the rumbles of the "film treading on the limits of what distributors and broadcasters might tolerate" are already doing the rounds. Russell Brand went straight away after Sachsgate and Ross is going now, a few months afterwards [after doing enough to salvage a much more ‘publicly-funded’ career than Brand]. And anyone who went to see one of Boyle’s warm up shows for Mock The Week will know that although he officially left the show to ‘pursue other projects’, his despair at knowing that a large part of his routine would never make the final edit probably played a pivotal role in his decision.

I understand that some will argue that rather than a shift in comedy, what this reveals is a shift in what is acceptable in television or radio [particularly on the BBC] with people more willing to complain and demand a more conservative kind of comedy. And I think they’re probably right to an extent. After all, live comedy is still going strong and catering to all tastes, with the likes of Richard Herring and Stewart Lee selling out dates throughout the country.

But what concerns me on a personal level is that if edgy comedy were to be entirely pushed off our screens and radios, it would inevitably affect the way the circuit behaves as tastes are indiscriminately shaped by whatever or whomever is being given the oxygen of publicity as the much-maligned yet incredibly successful Michael Mcintyre proves. So, I ponder again, are we really going through a game-changer in the world of comedy [at least in the UK]?

I certainly don’t know the answer to that and I doubt that anyone does for sure. But in an age when bigots are getting organised, religious extremism is on the rise and politicians keep treating us all as if we are bewildered children who’ve just experienced a magic trick, surely we want our comedy to be cutting, edgy, pushing boundaries and not gagged. The efficacy of comedy has been proven many times. From Chaplin’s Hinckle to Carlin’s Seven Words, from Pryor's riffs on race to the wave of right-on British comedians during the Thatcher era. Edgy comedy too has proven to be a successful tool when aimed at the right targets and allowed to flow. It’d be sad to see comedy toothless, without bite. Hopefully I’ll reread this ponder in a year or so and laugh at how wrong I was. Feel free to let me know what you think please.

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Ponderings Of A Reality TV Junkie

2010-01-19T16:11:00.003Z

by Candice Carboo-Ofulue (@candaloo)

We all have vices of which we are desperately ashamed. Those guilty delights that we publically denounce but secretly indulge. Seeking solace for our conflicted minds, some of us hide in the shadows of self-delusion, fruitlessly attempting to convince ourselves that we abhor these unspoken pleasures even as we enjoy them. Mine, regrettably, is philanthropic reality TV. Know it? It comes under the guise of “Secret Millionaire” and the rest. At present I am hooked on America’s “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition”, which purports to transform people’s lives by building their dream home. Arguably, this entire ponder is my attempt to delude myself that my interest is purely sociological.

The truth, of course, is that I’m addicted to the anesthetising, happy coma into which I plummet, as I succumb to the improbability that nice guys from television programmes with corporate funding, simply come along and build poor people monstrously large houses. State of the art houses, I might add, fully equipped with solar energy, ensuite bathrooms, gyms, butlers...you name it, they’ve probably done it. Add to this altruistic recipe a deserving poor family that has dedicated itself to teaching sign language to deaf monkeys, or painting classes for armless war veterans.....and the whole experience leaves you...well...fluffy.

But it's precisely this fluffy paralysis that underlies my mental anguish. Is it justified? Why should evidence of extreme poverty and failure of the government’s wealth distribution policies evoke fluffiness? Surely we should be hyperventilating with anger and rushing to the streets in protest?

Which brings me to my ponder: is our obsession with philanthropic reality TV destroying our collective conscience? I mean, are we investing in this falsehood because we’ve abandoned our social obligation to alleviate poverty, amongst other social inequalities? What’s next “Get Me Out of Guantanamo Bay?”

I suspect that this particular happy high we get from philanthropic reality TV appeals to both our modern fixation on sensationalism, as well as our sense of justice? In this fictitious world where poor people prevail and corporations build houses, there is a happy ending. We’ve become more comfortable with depending on the televised generosity of affluent altruists and corporations than the promises of our politicians. If this is the case, then should we explore the possibility that our reality TV obsession is a product of our political apathy?

Needless to say, the probability of a random rich man offering to build your house, or pay your debts is so outrageously non-existent that disillusioned or not, this is really no alternative.

So how to conclude? Call me a cynic but there has to be dangerous consequences in investing in the falsity of philanthropic reality TV. By transforming poverty into entertainment, do we make it an abstraction free from its social determinants? What about our responsibility to address the uncomfortable truths of life: poverty, climate change, terrorism etc?

Personally, I have little faith in a junked up society hooked on a happy high in dealing with our questionable future, which is why my New Year’s resolution is to stop watching philanthropic reality TV and start writing to my local MP. So what are your thoughts?

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Farewell To The Album?

2010-01-12T13:32:00.000Z

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

A couple of weeks ago I was watching a fairly brain draining programme whose name I have not only forgotten, but is also in no way relevant to this ponder. What I do remember is one of the plastic faces declaring that the growth of music downloads has changed the industry so significantly that producers and musicians alike are warning that they may be forced to give up on albums altogether, and instead devote their resources to releasing stand alone singles.

My immediate reaction: so what?

It goes without saying that illegal downloads and music sharing have had a role to play in this latest development but a) that’s not what I’m talking about and b) I think that rather than fundamentally altering the music industry, downloads have simply accelerated the inevitable.

What I am talking about is the way that our preferred way of consuming music has been altered to become more diverse, more dynamic… more flippant? And in fact, is that precisely the point? We’re now consuming music rather than enjoying it? Or is such a distinction simply pretention all dressed up with nowhere to go? It could well be both, but regardless, what drove this change wasn’t a clever marketing ploy dreamt up by the suits at Sony. It is technological advance that has enabled us to have more control over what we listen to and how we listen to it… and to be more flippant? So perhaps it’s the correct order that musicians and producers recognise the shift as well?

I fully understand why individual artists would fight a process that has made creating albums unprofitable. But, should the consumer really care? If artists are still producing blinding singles and consumers are enjoying them, should that same consumer show an interest in the artistic angst of the world’s next Hendrix? Sat alone in an airless bedroom desperate to create an album but finding that the taste for it, and so by default funding, is no longer there?

In a recent interview with George Michael, Simon Hattenstone writes that "he says he thinks albums are passé, that you have to work in a different way today for a market that listens to music by the song." Maybe he's right.

I’m not anti-album by any stretch of the imagination. I’m listening to this as I write, you should too – it’s beautiful. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m very much a Beatles girl. I think that Revolver is the best album ever created. Not because it has the best Beatles’ tracks (it doesn’t), but because it is conceptually stunning. But that was a different age, an age when music and occasionally politics drove album creation, not sales. And sad though it may be, those days are gone. They were given their warning call when Britney hit us one more time and gave up their last gasp when Cheryl fought for her love.

There are plenty of musicians out there who are still making incredible albums. They’re the minority in the plethora of over-produced, over-commercialised discs being spun out every year, but there are nevertheless still a lot of good ‘uns about. And surely, surely those with real talent, real drive will sacrifice their profit margins for the sake of their art? Too romantic? Isn’t music itself our greatest romanticism?

Think of the image of a young writer desperate to publish his or her first novel, or get a front page headline. Somehow I very much doubt that you're imagining a literary equivalent of Britney Spears with her overnight fame and bags of cash. Art in any form should not be about the accumulation of wealth – if it happens then lucky you, but it shouldn’t be the driving force. By the same token if the monetary incentive of producing albums has been removed I’m convinced that we’ll still get the Dylans and Cobains of our time, but maybe Peter Andre wouldn’t have bothered. Do you know what I mean?

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Why Are There No Gay Footballers?

2010-01-05T16:47:00.000Z

by Joshua Surtees

My ex-girlfriend physically despises professional organised sports. Apart from figure skating. But then, she is Canadian. And Canadians notoriously have difficulty understanding any sport that doesn’t involve ice. Or snow. Or both.

Above all sports, however, she had a particular dislike for football (or “sah-kerr” to use her North American terminology). The instant football came on the TV she would magically produce a book or magazine and start reading, steadfastly refusing to glance at the screen even for a millisecond. Unless of course Cristiano Ronaldo was playing. She liked CR9. Although I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his sporting prowess she was admiring.

Other than Ronaldo, the only other aspect of association football that fascinated my ex was the inherent homoeroticism of the game. She would point out homoerotic aspects which many ‘sah-kerr’ fans choose to ignore but, when examined, are clearly present. E.g. that 60,000 men (and football crowds still are 90% male) crammed into a stadium very close to each other watching 22 men run around in tight shorts, mimicking the players’ kisses, cuddles and embraces that follow each goal, is quite a ‘gay’ thing to do. Bear in mind she is a staunch supporter of gay rights and has more gay friends than any other straight person I know. Her point was that the majority of the men doing these ‘gay’ things at football matches are, generally, rather homophobic. The beautiful irony she saw in fat, unfashionable, largely illiterate, straight men getting “all homosexual” with each other was hilarious to her. “Are you off to the game now to be gay with your friends and all the other guys?” she would goad. “It’s not gay,” I would respond, “it’s what’s known as male bonding. It’s about as non-gay an activity as you can get”. But I was only fooling myself. It is gay. It’s very, very gay.

The question she would ask me about football, above all others, was: why are there no gay footballers? This ponder is dedicated to her musing…

So, why are there no gay footballers? And I do literally mean none. The only footballer in the entire history of the world game to come out publicly was Justin Fashanu in 1990. Upon coming out he was instantly mocked and reviled by supporters, even disowned by his own brother, the cretinous John Fashanu. Sadly, Justin Fashanu, a talented footballer in his mid-80’s prime, took his own life in 1998. As a black man, having put up with years of racism within the game, he became unable to deal with the homophobia, the general turbulence of his life, the taunts of managers, fans and players and an unfounded sexual assault claim filed against him by a teenaged boy he coached in the US.

Other than Fashanu, no footballer has ever admitted being gay. Marcello Lippi last year claimed there are no gay players in the game. Now, in a sport played by 250,000 people world wide, around a quarter of whom are professionals, it’s simply not possible for them all to be straight. That’s just a question of simple logic. Some, perhaps as many as 10%, must be gay. If they are, then it’s very sad they have to live in the closet through fear of what might happen if they were public about it. Sadly, such fears are well founded. Football in many ways is still truly a philistine sport.

To put homophobia in football in context; within very recent memory in the UK, loud open, vitriolic racism was heard at nearly any game you went to. In some places it still exists: Millwall, Oldham, Stoke, Burnley, Leeds or Cardiff to name a few. You will still hear racist abuse at all of these places. In Italy and Spain racism is commonplace and barely questioned, even by the authorities. Given this fact, you are probably able to imagine what attitudes to gay people are like. Homophobic abuse is already directed at players who are not openly gay but simply suspected of being so. Or even just because they read books! Graeme Le Saux, an intelligent former player and league title winner, was one such player subjected to taunts. Sol Campbell is another. “Have you ever seen Campbell with a bird? Have you fuck.” they sing at him. And far far worse things I’d rather not repeat here.

While anti-racist policies such as the FA’s Kick It Out have been in place for a while, the intolerance of homosexuality in football circles is only just beginning to be challenged at an official level. The FA has a Homophobia In Football working group. Shamefully, professional clubs are neglecting to support its aims.

Other sports have featured openly gay players. Rugby, with the recent example of Gareth Thomas, basketball player John Amaechi in the US, even the ultra-macho, Irish sport of Hurling recently had a gay revelation in the form of star player Dónal Óg Cusack.

So, what is football’s problem? Clearly one can accept the culture of football is decisively masculine, aggressive and centred around male posturing. But I don’t see that this stops a player from coming out. Gay men can be just as masculine, aggressive and posturing as straight ones. The question is: why would they choose to expose themselves to the hatred by disclosing their orientation? The hatred would not necessarily come from fellow players. David James, Portsmouth and England goalkeeper, demonstrates this, writing rather eloquently here about his hope for a gay player to come out.

And yet, to come out in the Premiership in England would take a huge amount of bravery. PR guru Max Clifford believes there are gay footballers out there who are too scared to come forward. But somebody will have to take the first step. While initial reactions may be harsh, I feel that if a strong role model gay figure was to emerge, somebody with the equivalent status to a David Beckham or Wayne Rooney, the bully boys and homophobes in the crowd could be silenced. All human rights campaigns require trailblazers, groundbreakers and martyrs. Gay football already has its martyr, Justin Fashanu. Let us hope there will be no more martyrdom but at the same time let us hope that one day somebody will emerge with the courage and conviction to cope with the stress and to change footballing attitudes, just as Clyde Best, Brendan Batson, Cyril Regis, Viv Anderson and Laurie Cunningham did for black players and fans in the 70s.

There are gay men involved in some ways with football. Elton John owned Watford FC in the 1980s. Matt Lucas is an Arsenal season ticket holder regularly seen at games. It would, however, be a giant step forward into the 21st century, if an actual player or indeed manager, intimately connected to the sport came out. One day it will happen. Maybe not necessarily in the UK. Maybe in Holland, Germany, Sweden; places with more forward-thinking, European attitudes. Not that homophobia in the UK is generally a huge problem. Historically we are one of the most tolerant and supportive countries when it comes to gay rights. It’s just such a shame our tolerance and support does not extend to our national sport.

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The Ballad Of The Naughty Noughties

2009-12-29T15:57:00.001Z

By Euclides Montes @gatulino

What will be the feature that comes to define the ‘noughties’ whenever future generations cast their critical eye on us? Would it be perhaps the belligerence of our political and religious systems? Or, maybe, the Warholian accessibility yet ultimately transience of celebrity? Or, perhaps, we’ll be judged under a more positive light as the generation where the seeds of environmentalism finally took roots?

As this decade draws to a close, we’ve had lists aplenty organising in a neat order the greatest moments/songs/places/etc of the decade but I’ve been instead pondering about that one defining feature that will always be associated with the ‘noughties’. Regrettably I don’t have the advantage of a magic ball to look into the future but as an avid observer of the “western experience”, I personally believe that the feature that will define the ‘noughties’ generation will be its quasi-instinctual belief that everything they want is not only possible but easily achievable as soon as they want.

This Veruca Salt-like mind set has been the feature that has shaped most of this dying decade and I wonder where it will eventually lead us. The 'I Want It All, I Want It Now' mantra of the noughties reached its logical conclusion in the rather fitting financial crash that plunged us into an uncertain economic environment for the last part of the decade. What the crash also revealed was an almost caricaturised version of the inherent greedy nature of our society in the form of the fat cats bankers and financial gamblers that led our economy to the edge of financial oblivion and also exposed the ideological bankruptcy of our collective political and social systems.

I understand many will view the statement above as a rather critical assessment of our society, but we have reached a point where the ideological glue holding us all together has been stretched to breaking point, revealing its weaknesses and giving us in turn a massive opportunity, if not a mandate, to take the reins again and shape our society into a fairer and more equal one.

It’s said that the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince humanity he didn’t exist. Similarly, the greatest trick that greedy and unchecked capitalism pulled was to convince us that we can have anything we want, whenever we want it and at the lowest monetary cost possible. Do you want your fast food burger and chips? Pay a couple of pounds for it, never mind the Amazon being destroyed to breed cows. Do you want a £1 top? Go to your high street chain and buy it, never mind who made it and under what conditions. Do you want to have 6, 8, 10 holidays a year? Book and check in online and while you’re at it, put it on your credit card, never mind the cost to the environment or the fact you can’t really afford it yet. Do you want an 8 figure bonus at the end of the year? Gamble with someone else’s money, never mind the OAP who’ll have to do with less money since you’ve just lost their pensions.

Make no mistake about this, we’ve all bought into the ‘Veruca Salt mind set and we are partially responsible for the state of where things are. We need, almost like children, to learn the value and worth of ‘no’. No, we shouldn’t always have everything we want. Sustainability shouldn’t have to be a life choice but instead it should be part of the way we interact with our surroundings. I believe we are at a pivotal stage in our development as a species where a few tweaks in our ideological mind set could set us in the right path. And here’s where the heart of my ponder lies. How can we achieve that? We are about to embark on a whole new decade, how do we want the future to judge us? And are we capable of change at a social level and move on from the ‘I want it all, I want it now’ mind set to a fairer one where ‘at any cost’ is no longer part of our vocabularies? Or am I perhaps a raving dog barking at the wrong tree? I don’t know. What do you think?

O, and Happy New Year!

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Did you hear the one about the Tiger and the penguin?

2009-12-22T17:05:00.001Z

by Candice Carboo-Ofulue @Candaloo

Yesterday, I received a considerably frustrated phone call from my friend Penguin. It transpired that yet another round of strikes within the Antarctic Post had delayed his copy of the National Enquirer, and he and the polar bears were desperate to know the latest in the Tiger Woods scandal. Surprised that a penguin as educated and informed as he cared about celebrity gossip, I suggested that he should probably be more concerned about the real events of Copenhagen, at which he laughed.

Unfortunately for Penguin I have been righteously ignoring the Tiger Woods story, so I could not divulge much. I half-heartedly relayed what I had glossed over in the Guardian that weekend about the National Enquirer being bribed to “bury” a story of one of Woods’ affairs back in August 2007. Rejuvenated with his celebrity fix, Penguin sadistically mocked that the reason for Woods’ indefinite leave from golf, was because he had been deafened by the sound of his life crashing down, and had lost his balance. I replied that it was wrong that his public life had been so catastrophically affected by personal matters. After all, he’s an excellent golfer, who cares who he sleeps with. Penguin told me I was naive and then hung up.....and I was left pondering.

Why is the world so obsessed with celebrities? Admittedly, this is not a new question, simply type the words celebrity and obsession into your search engine and it will readily respond with an abundance of hypotheses from religion to consumption. But recently, it seems that the slime of celebrity obsession is proliferating, blocking all news outlets with its infectious gunk, and even contaminating the channels of serious news. For those of us who refuse to care, camping out within the pages of the Guardian or other ‘broadsheets’ is no longer possible, with even those publications giddily spooning out celebrity trash as a side to our world news dish. That’s not what we ordered. All we can do is sew our ears shut, but then they’ll just get us through our eyes.

So I propose that we fight back with why? Most answers I have come across fall short of providing a comprehensive explanation. This obsession is more than just passively ‘gorking’ at the rich and famous through the OK window. It’s dynamic. Our celebrity diet simultaneously combines all the virtues and ‘unvirtues’ of human nature; we admire, adorn, mythologize, imitate, criticise, judge, sympathise, desire, fanaticise. In fact, over the last decade we have even been actively manufacturing celebrities through the reality TV machine, so that we can create our very own ‘celebridolls’. It’s more than complex, it’s a phenomenon. And in accordance with the phenomenon tradition it should be awarded it’s very own ‘ology’. So, ‘Celebriology’: The Study of the Obsession of Celebrity - let’s give it a crack.

Hmmm.....

The first important question for ‘Celebriology’ is whether our obsession is instinctual? Possibly. Some essential characteristics that underpin our celebrity fetish also worked for our branch swinging ancestors. Gossip; many evolutionary psychologists agree that gossip was an effective means of helping our ancestors make sense of the world, which may explain why we ruthlessly air Tiger Woods’ dirty laundry through every possible news outlet.

How about the desire to imitate high status individuals; used by our ancestors to ascertain scarce resources and secure their reproductive success, maybe that why we rapaciously consume mags that salivate over celeb lifestyles and offer cheap routes to the latest must-haves flaunted by Posh.

But does our desire to imitate explain why we’re so ruthlessly judgemental when celebs go bad? Maybe we can’t distinguish between their private and public lives? We believe that the price for enjoying life’s luxuries is that they follow a higher code of ethics. The ‘Gucci Ethics Code’. This may explain why Tiger Woods has fallen from the pantheon of Gillet, but it fails to explain why one day we’re pillorying Jordan and the next we’re dowsing her with compliments and admiration. So maybe, familiarity provides a more sufficient answer (another of evolutions wonders). We are more flexible in our judgements towards people we know. Jordan, through living her life within the media, has exposed her many faces, which makes her an intimate and our memories short-term. But the ‘private’ Wood’s is a stranger, so we struggle to be empathetic.

Ahh, the mind ponders and boggles. Don’t even get me started on religion. All I will say is that the distant world of celebrities is looking suspiciously similar to Greek Mythology, with its nefarious and incestuous goings-on. Although, this arguably a product of our desire to mythologize than how celebrities actually live.

So, there it is. The beginnings of Celebriology. Of course, before it can compete with the likes of Sociology, Psychology, Pathology etc, it will need to be developed. Share your comments, so we can collectively build a theory that will contain this monster. Either that or we find a suitable place to hide, and given my discussion with Penguin, the Antarctic is off.

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It's The Final Countdown... Of Doom

2009-12-15T19:13:00.000Z

by Rachel Surtees @RVSurtees

It’s the final countdown do do do dooo do do do do dooo. It’s obviously not the final countdown, simply a ruse to get your attention. This is in fact “The Countdown Of Doom”. That’s right, read on and what you’ll find is a little sprinkling of good cheer to brighten up your day… HA!

The Christmas season is now well and truly upon us - it took a while to arrive this year didn’t it? But what every self-respecting telly addict knows is “The Christmas season” is in fact a smoke screen for the “season of incessant end of year list making and countdowns”. Countdown coordinators at television studios around the world will no doubt be in a perpetual state of orgasmic spasms because this 31st December is not only the end of the year, it’s the END OF THE DECADE.

But, while the shiny faces over at BBC Three try and convince us of the highlights and achievements of the Noughties, what I really want to know is, could it really have been any worse? Genuinely, could anything else possibly have gone wrong? And could any of the things that did go wrong have gone any more wrong than the wrongness that they wrongly became?

I have a theory that every generation has a dud decade. 10 years of misery, hatred, chaos and Cheryl Cole. Think about it, who do you know who’s had a good time over the last few years? Incidentally, if you have spent the last decade riding on a merry rollercoaster of happiness, good health and joy, I’m genuinely pleased for you but feel free not to comment.

I’m aware that there are one or two holes in my theory but I will boldly ignore them and plough forward regardless. It can’t get any worse. Can it? It appears that people only become cognisant of how much they’ve been through in retrospect so allow me to bring some of the forgotten miseries rushing to the fore of your consciousness and present the Noughties’ countdown of doom:

2000: George Dubya Bush is elected for his first term.

2001: 9/11 and its immediate aftermath changes the face of world politics forever.

2002: Bali bombings kill hundreds… The first prisoners arrive at Guantanamo Bay… “The Wall” is built in the Gaza strip.

2003: The million who marched are ignored and the invasion of Iraq begins… Heatwaves through Europe kill over 30,000 people.

2004: The year ends with the Indian Ocean Tsunami.

2005: Coordinated suicide bombers strike in London and a week later Charles De Menezes is shot dead in Stockwell tube station…. Hurricane Katrina hits the East coast of America, 1000s are left destitute in New Orleans and Bush rejects an offer from Cuba to send aid and supplies.

2006: Israel launches a military attack on Hezbollah and sends thousands of troops into Lebanon.

2007: Burmese crisis breaks out… Benazir Bhutto assassinated in Pakistan.

2008: The global financial crisis takes hold… Swine flu breaks out… Cyclone Nargis hits Burma and 146,000 people die… The voice and image of Sarah Palin is burnt onto the world’s retina… War breaks out between Russia and Georgia… Boris the Buffoon Johnson wins London’s mayoral elections… Zimbabwe faces one of its worst periods of civil and political unrest in the face of looming general elections.

2009: Brown loses his already tentative grip on the country… Fascists take to our streets and televisions seig heiling as they go… SuBo becomes the biggest selling pre-ordered album on Amazon (yes she has a great voice but don’t tell me that’s why you’re buying the album)…

It is true that lots of amazing things have happened this decade too - most of them Obama shaped - but for every positive thing that you think of, there were at least three soul destroying catastrophes to counteract them.

I rarely manage to answer any of my own ponders but this time I can: no, it can’t get any worse so prepare yourself for a shiny new decade, full of joy and goodwill. And in the meantime allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year.

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Am I Really Black?

2009-12-08T12:38:00.000Z

by Joshua Surtees @joshuasurtees

“But I’m not black” says my sister. We are in the car with our mother driving home from the airport. “Yes you are” I say, mildly annoyed. Since childhood, our white mother has always told us we are black and should describe ourselves as such, even though we are half white. Right now, however, our mother appears to be supporting my sister’s argument, and beneath my growing angst I realise it may be wrong of me to impose my personal view of our ethnicity on to her. And yet I persist.

“No, I’m mixed race” she says. “Yes,” I say “but you’re also black”. “No, I’m as much white as I am black, but nobody calls me white so why should I call myself black?” “Do you really not know?” I say. “If you mean the one drop rule, then yes of course I know” she says “but why should a theory derived from the civil rights movement in the US decades ago apply to me now?” It’s an interesting point…

Let me back track to the conversation that sparked this discussion. In my kitchen at home one evening I’m talking to my lodger. She is of the same background as my sister and I (her father is black her mother is white). We are talking about her imminent return to Suffolk after a year in London. “I’m going to miss London,” she says. “There aren’t many brown people in Bury St Edmunds”. I’m amused by the comment. “You don’t describe yourself as brown do you?” I ask, slightly bemused as it’s been a while since I’ve heard the term. “Yes, I’m not black and I’m not white, I’m brown”. “Oh that’s interesting,” I say, “what does your dad [a black American] think about that?”, “He’s fine with it” says my lodger.

Over the next 20 minutes or so my lodger and I discuss the merits of the various labels that could be applied to us. I tell her that my own perception of the label ‘brown’ is the derogatory, condescending term ‘brown babies’ used in the British post-war years to describe children of white mother’s and black US soldiers. I also explain my concern that mixed race people often refer to themselves as brown out of some residual sense of lingering shame at the thought of calling themselves black. It must be remembered that in the eyes of most of the world, being black is something that only relatively recently emerged as something to be proud of. This is especially so in England where immigration of black people in large numbers only really began in the 50s and 60s. The generation of the earliest immigrants from the Caribbean still to this day refer to themselves as coloured. Because that is what they were told they were. Because being ‘black’ back then was undesirable. The term coloured today is racist, and yet older generations, including my white grandmother, still use it innocently, as if it is the correct term.

At school in the late 80s/early 90s, the awful term half-caste was commonly used. My siblings and I would come home from school describing ourselves thus, having been described as such in the playground or even by teachers. My mum would tell us never to describe ourselves as such, nor allow others to, explaining that the term comes from the Indian caste system and essentially means you are half a person. Of a lower class. Thank god that term is largely eradicated now along with terms such as mulatto or indeed yellow.

I suppose the term half caste came about from a genuine embarrassment in this country about the new phenomenon of mixed race babies. Until a turning point in the 60s and 70s, it was rare for a white woman and black man to have a baby, or vice versa. It is this embarrassment around issues of race that I have a problem with and may be why I am not a fan of the term brown. To me, it feels like an attempt to sanitise, ‘pretty up’ or get out of simply saying black. It is ‘black’, made more palatable for society. To me there should be no sense of shame or compromise with the word black. It should be something to be proud of. That is what was drummed into me by my mother, and indeed my father, and has stuck with me. “People will see you as black and you should be proud to be black, never deny that you are” was their message. “But Rachel [my sister] is lighter than some Italian people” we would argue. “She’s still black” would be our mother’s response.

For me, the black pride factor runs deep in this debate. Many black people require black success stories and role models to identify with, to motivate and to stimulate personal pride. If a half black person achieves success and calls themselves a black man or woman, this represents a greater fillip to black empowerment, than calling themselves brown or even mixed race. Barack Obama describes himself as African-American. What would it do to the psyches of other African-Americans in the States if he instead described himself as multiracial, bi-racial, mixed race or dual heritage? I feel it would be a disservice.

But am I wrong? Is it me who is living in the past? Is it not the choice of each individual to decide their ethnicity, even when those individuals come from the same background or even the same family, like my sister and I? Surely she has the right to call herself mixed race and my lodger to call herself brown? In the months since my lodger used the term brown, I’ve heard it quite frequently, most often from people of Indian or South Asian origin. So, is it just me that’s still living in a 1980s PC ‘Right On’ world where we march against ‘the bomb’ and acid rain and Thatcher and people calling themselves brown?

I tell my sister I find the term ‘mixed race’ unsatisfactory. “It’s meaningless. It doesn’t even describe which races one is a mix of. Ethiopian and Italian? Korean and Mexican? Iranian and Jewish?” In an, ideal world I would describe myself as half English half Jamaican. When I ask my half Norwegian half Guyanese friend he concurs. Yet these are our parents’ nationalities, not really our ethnicities. I think dual heritage is a prettier term. For me, ‘mixed race’ is just the latest in a line of flawed terminologies that the government and equalities agencies haven’t really thought through. I think it will be replaced fairly quickly with another generic, unflattering term.

My sister recounts the a time when a chatting with two childhood friends she said to one “please don’t call me half caste it’s incorrect” and the other joined in “yeah, and don’t call me Indian”, to which my sister had to politely point out “but, you are Indian!”. The unfortunate interjection somewhat devalued the original point but it neatly highlights my previous point; that some people actually are embarrassed or confused about who they are.

Then, she makes the final point that another mixed race friend, a well educated young woman, until only recently referred to herself as half caste. I am shocked.

It seems political correctness is not the solution to everything where individuals are concerned. This is the essence of the debate. Is it the right of individuals to call themselves whatever they want? Whether that be black, white, brown, mixed race, coloured or even half caste? Is it unacceptable for others to label people with official, political or ideological terms?

I think it’s fair to say I have mixed feelings on this one.

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The Fear

2009-12-01T17:07:00.000Z

by Euclides Montes (@Gatulino)

You’re on the night bus, on your way home after a night out on the town. A group of boisterous hooded teenagers get on the bus, perhaps having a laugh about something or other. You can feel the mood change in all of your travel companions. It darkens. The fear can almost be seen by the naked eye. These are no longer teenagers, you see, but they are instead the shadowy demons from Ghost who have come to claim your peace or maybe even your souls. Never mind that 9 out of 10* of all bus journeys will always end up as intended: just a bit late, with us iPoded Britons looking grumpily for a free seat. I could have used many other examples to highlight the explicit fear that I think permeates our society but in all of them, the result is always very clear to me. Even though the odds are stacked heavily against the things that scare us – be it gun crime, immigration causing an uncontrolled increase in our population or the PC brigade trying to ban Christmas – the fear of these things happening is here, it’s obvious, it’s pervasive and, I feel, it’s here to stay. And so, to my ponder. Is this fear understandable? More importantly, is there anything or anyone perpetuating the fear? And for what purpose?

Where to begin? For a start I believe that there are many anthropological/ sociological/ biological explanations of what ‘fear’ is but this post will not attempt to tackle these philosophical musings since the author cannot really claim to have the academic nous to put forward a definitive appraisal of the explanations! However, in the spirit of a good ponder, I have been wondering what it is that drives these waves of fear in our societies, for the simple reason that it’s as clear as day to me we are suffering from a terrible case of collective heebie-jeebies. Since we haven’t got too much space, and time is always a commodity, let me plant my flag and declare my stance on this issue.

I believe that as a species, our brains are wired into feeling fear. Fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, fear of heights. In short, fear of the dangers that in evolutionary terms have been with us for a while. We have now taken those fears and translated them, writing them into the complex socialised system we know as a society. We have understood them, given them fancy names and tried to master them but these fears are part of our biological imprint. They are part of what ‘we’ are. Now, here’s where my piece could be seen as a tad controversial because I believe that what’s different about this particular moment in our social history is that we have not only tried to master our fears but we have also managed to use them as tools of social control. This has happened to such an extent that we are at a stage where we are being constantly bombarded by fear-mongering from all directions with one single purpose: someone wants to sell us something. And in order to do so, our primeval ‘fear’ has been, and continues to be, exploited.

Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not simply talking about the McDonalisation of our private fears. After all, fear has always been used to sell almost anything that needs selling. A religious system, a dodgy war, a government campaign, the latest brand of toothpaste, a xenophobic ideology. In fact, this has become such a repetitive process that we have taken the next logical step in this tale and “The Fear” is now a permanent feature of our daily lives.

And who’s perpetuating this fear on a daily basis if not the media? I’m not saying they’re wholly responsible for this state of affairs but they are certainly liable for at least some of it. The newspapers and news channels that we go to get our daily dose of facts are suddenly now using this sales technique for their own agendas and that worries me.

If fear is part of our psyche and it is being exploited indiscriminately to sell whatever it is you’re supposed to be buying, where does the responsibility of the media start? This question arises because, in my opinion, this was a bad year [and maybe even a bad decade] for journalism. For every positive achievement by the media, there were 10 scaremongering pieces out there. For every Transfigura, there were your Dunblanegates and your racist fau pauxs. For every Aaronovitch, you had your Jan Moirs and your Littlejohns. All in the name of sale figures.

Why? It’s an issue that goes to the very meeting point of our modern society and our primeval fear. We have readily-accessible information everywhere and suddenly every click and every sale is worth a lot more than before. Sometimes I can’t help but feel that certain sectors of the media want you to be in a constant state of fear, scared of everything. It would seem that tales of teenagers killing are better for sales than reporting on fiscal deficits or Prime Minister’s Question Time.

Some of you might say that business is business after all but here is where my ponder hopefully becomes yours. Shouldn’t newspapers be more responsible? Shouldn’t we expect them to be a positive force in our society? Don’t get me wrong, ‘the fear’ came first in this ‘chicken and egg’ scenario but I believe that a few fat cats have made a omelette of it and the result is that suddenly our bearded neighbour becomes a jihadist, a vaccine becomes a poisonous arrow and our children become the goblins who haunt our trips back home from the pub late at night. ‘The Fear’ is here and here to stay. And now the weather...

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Caster Semenya: All 'Sexed Up' With Nowhere To Go?

2009-11-24T20:49:00.002Z

by Candice Carboo-Ofulue @Candaloo

Poor Old Caster Semenya. Is there any light at the end of this controversial tunnel? For those of you whose memories need a bit of a nudge, Caster Semenya sprinted into our collective conscious this summer after her win in the women’s 800 meters was clouded by speculation about her sex. First it was the “leak” that exposed the International Association of Athletics Federation (IAAF)’s suspicions about Semenya’s sex, followed by a tsunami of angry words from South African Athletics (ASA), the South African Government, and Semenya’s family. Not to mention the preferred tactics of avoidance and defence by the IAAF. Oh, and the public discrediting of Leonard Chuene, Head of the ASA.

Poor old Caster has been left exposed under the microscopic spotlight, publically dissected, and of course ‘glammed up’ for that all essential glossy front page makeover. And yet still the saga continues. There is contradiction between the ASA and IAAF about Semenya’s future: whilst the South African Ministry of Sport has declared that she can keep her gold medal, the IAAF claims to be in negotiations. And the long anticipated results of her gender verification test, which were due to be announced last Friday, are “still to be completed”. Poor old Caster Semenya.

But, can someone please enlighten me. Why all this frenzy surrounding the alleged ambiguity of her sexual anatomy? Seriously, I’m confused. I mean, if her gender verification test results confirm that she is indeed a ‘hermaphrodite’, she wouldn’t be the first. In fact, to be born ‘intersex’ is somewhat normal. Admittedly statistically uncommon, but then there are lots of genetic rarities, not all of them result in outright hysteria. And I refuse to accept that this is some kind of public reaction to the ‘unknown’. Anyone, like me, who was raised on cable TV, will remember the obsession with ‘transgendered’ and ‘intersex’ people on day-time freak shows (sorry, I meant talk shows) such as Sally Jessie Raphael.

For some the answer is obvious. It’s the incompatibility of ‘intersex’ people within sport, which is defined along the lines of ‘sexually decisive’ men and women. Possibly. But that doesn’t explain the confusion. From the leak, to the fact that she was allowed to run despite the speculation, to the protracted gender verification test; disorder is an understatement. Semenya might just as well be a Martian. In fact, that just reinforces my question. How to ‘deal’ with ‘intersex’ people is a well established dilemma within competitive sport; gender verification tests were introduced into the Olympics in 1968 for that reason. Since then there have been a number incidents of gender speculation, such as in 2006 when Indian middle-distance runner Santhi Soundarajan was stripped of her silver medal after failing the gender verification test. Surely, it must have been someone’s job to develop some kind of policy, or at least a transgendered Olympics? But no, just a bunch of headless chickens wearing suits and IAAF name badges.

So I wonder: does the source of the hysteria go beyond the track? Maybe all this bewilderment surrounding Semenya is our belief system in meltdown? I mean, what led to the initial speculation? Was it that this young girl’s body is just too masculine? Her voice just too coarse?

Maybe it’s not that ‘intersexuality’ is incompatible with sport itself, but rather that our sporting competitions fall short in accommodating the sexual variations that actually exist? Do we feel uncomfortable with ’intersexuality’ because it rips the heart out a belief system that masquerades as natural but is in fact socially created? Surely, the presence of ‘intersexuality’ mocks our restricted view of men and women. In fact, many scientists believe that sexual ambiguity is statistically underrepresented, since not all people born ‘intersex’ have external male and female anatomy. What if you have the internal anatomy of a woman, but the external genitalia of a man? Does that make you an ‘unwoman’ or an ‘unman’. So even within the context of ‘intersexuality’ there are variations. Should sex be viewed and understood as a continuum? Furthermore, if nature is content with creating ambiguous sexual anatomies, why are we so absolute?

I wonder if this challenge to our ‘natural’ belief system explains our frenzied and possibly aggressive reaction to ‘intersexuality’? We’re fraudsters. Rather than accept this ambivalence we defend our beliefs. We view it as wrong, abnormal, pitiful. We feel safe in dichotomies: men and women, old and young, ugly and beautiful. So instead, we talk about the need to rectify maldeveloped, abnormal or defective reproductive systems through ‘corrective’ surgery? It is up to the ‘other’ to ’correct’ their reproductive systems to conform to our ’normal’ ideas of sex. Of course, many may chose to have surgery, but this choice should determined by the individual, and not be the result of a ‘gender dogma’. How do we know what is natural if the ‘other’ is corrected and suppressed?

So I’m left in the position where my confusion has been substituted by questions. Is this just an issue for the minority of people who are born ‘intersex’? Maybe there is no need to challenge our entire belief system solely to incorporate a few? But if our collective thinking is so intrinsically intolerant to the extent that our social views create sex, where are the boundaries? Within our present climate of body ‘dysmorphia’, should this be asked? Consider this: last year the number of women seeking labiaplasties (cosmetic surgery on their female genitalia) rose by 70 percent. Women having operations to become more womanly. Have our ‘socialised’ beliefs of sex become so ‘natural’ that now they are ideals to which our bodies should aspire? Now that is interesting.

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My Straight Gay Wedding: What's In A Name?

2009-11-20T16:03:00.000Z

by guest contributor Tom Freeman

In 342 AD the Christian emperors Constantius II and Constans issued a law in the Theodosian Code prohibiting same-sex marriage and ordering execution for those so married. Things have come on a bit since then. On 24th November at 10:30 am my partner and I have an appointment at Islington Registry Office to give notice of our intention to form a civil partnership. You might think this is a time for celebration, but you’d be wrong. Our notice will not be accepted. The reason? My partner is a girl. The Civil Partnerships Act 2004 says: ‘two people are not eligible to register as civil partners of each other if they are not of the same sex’. In the words of Sam Leith in the Evening Standard on Monday: ‘it is an abomination before Blair to see man and woman unnaturally so conjoined’.

The mantra I have been droning to all and sundry is: ‘separate but equal isn’t equal at all’. Those of you who can remember history GCSE will recognise this idiom from segregation-era America. Derived from an act of 1880, ‘separate but equal’ became a legal principle, not overturned until 1954. Black people were entitled to public services putatively equal in quality – just as long as they were kept separate from services for white people. In Plessy vs Ferguson (1896), the landmark case in which Homer Plessy was prosecuted for riding in a white railway carriage, the majority of the court blindly refused to accept that the law implied any inferiority of black people. In reality the majority had accepted equal rights for the minority only on the condition that they were held at arm’s length. This, in my book, is not what equality is. The analogy with matrimonial law in the UK is obvious: the legal effects of Civil Partnership and civil marriage are identical, the rights and obligations are identical, yet one is for gay people only, and the other – with all the prestige that the ancient institution entails – for straights only.

This throws up a whole box full of ponders. First, is there something inherent in the nature of sexuality which dictates that long-term committed relationships between same-sex and opposite-sex couples are fundamentally different and must be recognised as such in law? In his article, Leith, using the analogy of apartheid, writes ‘the ANC weren't campaigning for the right of South Africa's black majority to call themselves white’. This implies that by seeking a Civil Partnership we are ‘calling ourselves gay’. Is this association of concepts something that can or should be broken down? Plenty of countries have managed it. While the Netherlands introduced registered partnerships in the 90s to give gay couples the benefits available to married couples, this didn’t stop them becoming, in 2001, the first nation to grant same-sex marriages. The Canadian Parliament approved the granting and recognition of same-sex marriages by redefining marriage as “the lawful union of two persons to the exclusion of all others” in 2005. Similar steps have been taken in Norway, Belgium, Spain, South Africa and Sweden.

But I’m being silly, aren’t I? This is all just semantics. Everybody, gay or straight, has the same rights, so where’s the problem? My second ponder therefore is: are labels really important? Leith goes on: The ANC ‘were campaigning for equality under the law. And that's what we've already got... things are pretty much okee-dokee in a society, I think, where the nomenclature is the only thing wrong with a law’. Are they, though? This comes down to the effect of names. Did anyone else notice that following Kevin McGee’s sad death, major newspapers used the word ‘husband’ to refer to his relationship to Matt Lucas, but put it in inverted commas? This is just one example of a trend. Civilly partnered couples are portrayed as imitating their married counterparts, but somehow falling short. I think this is a case of the media reflecting societal prejudices. But consider: how would attitudes be affected if we were no longer handed such an easy line to draw between proper couples and pretend ones? Would this eventually alter our perceptions? I genuinely don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe gay couples are glad to have their own institution and not be assimilated.

Which brings me to my final ponder. Who cares? Who actually are we representing here, except ourselves? How did we end up seeking to be a test case in the overturning of what seemed to us a gross inequality? It seemed like common sense. But if this is so self-evident why are others seemingly blind to it? There is no organised campaign in England on this issue, and a gay male friend tells me that interest in ours among gay men will be limited. I approached a certain prominent charity who were instrumental in lobbying for Civil Partnerships with my idea, and it was met with outright hostility. Does this in itself mean that what we are doing is wrong? Who gets to say? Can someone fill me in on this? I really should have checked.

Because of course we have now effectively excluded ourselves from the legal and economic benefits available to married couples – we are denied civil partnership by law, and we can’t back down now and go off and get married. If change does come, it will be very slow. I understand the Green Party has concrete plans to liberalise the law, but it looks like the Tories are on the way. Labour brought in Civil Partnerships, which is progress, but have no plans to go further. You could even say that accepting a compromise for the time being slows progress towards a goal (actually, it might even occur to a more cynical mind than mine that an understanding could have been reached with those lobbying for Civil Partnership that this would be ‘enough’). So for the time being, we’re kinda stuck.

That’s what’s been on my mind. Can separate but equal really be equal after all? What’s your view?

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You, Me and Mr Taxman

2009-11-17T15:57:00.000Z

by Rachel Surtees @RVSurtees

Who said tax doesn’t have to be taxing? Oh hang on, let me guess, Saatchi and Saatchi in a bid to make the HMRC sexy? FAIL. Maybe, and I do mean maybe, rather than thinking about how to dodge our taxual commitments, we should instead be allowed to decide how the money is spent. I very much doubt that any such declaration would see hoards taking to the streets, lining up to hurl their pound coins at number 11, but, perhaps it would make that tax deduction at the end of the month a little less painful.

Let’s be clear here, when I say give the public more control, I’m not advocating an X Factor style vote off with Rupert Murdoch, Paul Dacre, Dominic Mohan and Conrad Black serving on the judging panel. No? Isn’t that how our decisions are normally made? You’re right, we need a bit of window dressing in there, um, Caroline Flint?

I digress. I simply wonder what would happen if we were left in charge of our own taxes. Not how we pay, nor how much we pay, but more like who we pay. So, if I have a young family (I don’t), and no grandparents (I have one, singular), I might opt out of putting my tax money into state funded care homes for the elderly, and into improving primary education.

Incidentally, I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t make that change so maybe this is a moot ponder. Maybe nothing would change. Maybe we would all just go on making the same contributions as we do now as decided by, by who? The Treasury? Gordy? Then again I am a pacifist, so much to many people’s dismay I would whip my money out of spending on defence quicker than you can say North Korea. I’m also a rampant socialist so would probably put the money I save from building tanks into building public services, likely with an emphasis on the NHS.

I guess essentially this ponder is less about tax and more about what kind of society we actually are:

1) Are we blindly reactionary? I looked at the figures for 2008 / 09… this is an exact transcript of what went through my head: Wow, £620.685 billion worth of taxes were collected last year. Hmm I wonder who got the most money; I bet it was the defence budget. Bloody hell, £137.7 billion went to The Department of Work and Pensions…. THE DEPARTMENT OF WORK AND PENSIONS GOT THE MOST MONEY???? Is that a joke? Hang on a minute, £62.677 billion of that went on pensions. That can’t be correct. I don’t know how many people there are who qualify for a pension but at a generous guess let’s say 20 million, well, 62 billion divided by 20 million is… actually far less than it sounds. Blimey, writing this article is like being on one big rollercoaster ride. Interesting, if I hadn’t been bothered to do “the sums” my dear old Nan would have ended up pensionless and homeless by the end of the day.

2) Are we inherently socialist or conservative? Would we continue to place our taxes in industries and sectors that are beneficial for others but are not directly so for ourselves? Or, if you have children in private school and your company pays for private health insurance for all of the family would you pull your money out of the NHS and state funded education?

3) Are we socially, economically, politically balanced enough to be able to neutralise each other’s silly choices? Or, same point spoken as a true pessimist, are we so divergent that we would cancel out any good that our clever choices could have made?

Is it worth the risk regardless of whether the consequences end up being damaging? After all it’s our money, our society, why shouldn’t we have control over where tax money goes? I’m quite comfortable with Gordon making my decisions for me now but what happens “if” the Tories get in?

My feeling is that on a national level the likelihood is that it would either have no impact, or a negative impact. But I can see that on a more local level, having a say in how my council tax is spent could potentially have a positive and welcome impact within the local community. Then again, if it’s council tax then the rich will be all powerful and the poor left voiceless again. The fact that the wealthy may act selflessly on behalf of their less affluent neighbours is quite frankly irrelevant - we should all have an equal stake in the society that we live in. Ugh, and so the dialogue goes round and round in my head. What do you think?

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Freak Out Friday? Do Me A Favour...

2009-11-13T11:45:00.000Z

by guest contributor Hugh Lindley (@HughLindley, normally found trying to tolerate people on Bertie's Bastard Blog)

Today the date is 13/11/2009. It is the second Friday in November. It is 3 days before Monday the 16th. It is one of 4 days in the month that has a ‘3’ in it. None of these things are remarkably interesting. But hang on – if I were to say it was Friday the 13th, it would suddenly make the day seem interesting, eerie and supernatural wouldn’t it?

No. Of course it wouldn’t. You cretin.

It’s been a bumper few weeks for people who are scared of their own reflection, cracked paving slabs and particularly sharp pencils. No sooner have we got the annual farce that is Halloween out of the way (with all the crap fancy dress parties and kids pushing dog turds through letterboxes that it demands) than we have to put up with people rehashing the same old myths about Friday the 13th.

The annoying thing for ‘normal’, ‘sane’, ‘rational’ people like, well, like me, is this: after all the ghosts, ghouls and werewolves of the former (which are still a load of bollards but would at least be genuinely frightening if they existed), the latter’s non-specific threat and general excuse for cowardice is a bit of a comedown.

The former is, at least, one of many spurious reasons for the British population to binge drink and have a bloody good laugh; the latter may well involve some of your friends refusing to come to the pub in case they accidentally fall in front of a bus on the way home… something that could almost definitely be attributed to the ill-advised shot of Pernod they always finish the evening with.

There’s a fairly good chance that somebody will say to you today something like: ‘Oh I’d better not – it’s Friday the 13th, lol!’. Most of these people won’t be saying this with any real degree of seriousness (hence the ‘lol’) but with some you’ll probably be able to tell that they actually believe on some level.

This is very frustrating to me. I can just about tolerate people’s religious beliefs (if forced) but why should I have to put up with somebody who thinks that the date on the calendar has an adverse effect on their fortunes? There’s no element of harmless fun like with Halloween (you get sweets!), or celebrating the brutal execution of Jesus Christ (you get chocolate!). In the USA it is estimated that 17-21 million people have some form of a fear of the day and that it costs the economy $800-900 million (which they can hardly afford to lose these days). What is the point in propagating this myth, sometimes (as in 2009) 3 times a year? How can we convince these cowardly custards that, as Stevie Wonder always says, superstition ain’t the way?

One possible answer is pure ridicule. The fear of Friday the 13th is called paraskevidekatriaphobia. Look at that word. Would you like to be known as a paraskevidekatriaphobic? The chances are that word would get round to your neighbours, who are equally jumpy but for more tabloid-fueled reasons. This would probably result in your house being graffitied, your shed burnt down and your door no longer knocked on by trick or treaters. Your mother would buy you Gary Glitter albums for Christmas in a futile attempt to sympathise. Apart from that, it’s just a stupid word and you probably can’t pronounce it anyway.

However, this massive stick may not be the best answer, so perhaps the paraskevidekatriaphobic community could be persuaded to take off their tin foil hats and mince down to the carrot shop? Or to put it another way, should we waste our time patiently explaining to them that there is very little evidence to suggest that there is any link between Friday the 13th and really bad things happening? Indeed a Dutch study suggests that there is a decreased rate of traffic accidents on these ‘fatal’ days due to people taking extra care.

On the other hand, other studies have contradicted this and shown an increased rate of accidents. No problem for us rationalists though – firstly there are more accidents on weekends anyway due to alcohol consumption and secondly one can assume that some of these are due to psychosomatic reasons: ‘Well I was bound to drive my car off a cliff today wasn’t I? It’s Friday the 13th lol!’.

However… if you’re driving today and at the lights you look to your left and see one man frantically checking his mirrors, tightening his seatbelt and wiping the sweat from his face as he desperately tries not to cause an accident; and you then look to your right to see a man wearing a blindfold and a bodybag, releasing his handbrake, already resigned to his fate… Well, you’re probably better off just staying in aren’t you really? You never know do you?

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Is Torture Always a Bad Thing?

2009-11-10T15:18:00.000Z

by Joshua Surtees @joshuasurtees

Controversial title? Controversial subject. I’m a bit nervous about attracting the wrong kind of right wing blogging attention but this has to be done. We have to keep pondering or we die. Like sharks and swimming…

This feels schlocky, but anyway…. Imagine your mother has been kidnapped by the Taliban in Afghanistan or the FARC in Colombia. You’ve received notice that she will be killed within 48 hrs unless their demands are met. An MI5 agent calls you personally and says they can extract a tip-off out of a captive member of the kidnapping group using torture methods. This tip-off will save your mother’s life. If you had the final say, would you agree to authorise the torture? Would you ask what kind of torture? Would that matter? Or would you let your mother die?

This may sound unrealistic and sensational. It’s not. These kinds of situations happen everyday. Soldiers and the secret services do many extreme and difficult things in the name of protecting us and saving lives. Should torture be one of those things?

We all have our own opinion on this. It is in fact one of those rare issues (like anti-terrorism or freedom of expression) that unites both sides of the right/left political divide. 99% of people profess to abhor torture. I understand why.

But if you polled a million New Yorkers and asked them: If torture had been a viable option to prevent the 9/11 attacks would you have approved it? I think the overwhelming answer would be in favour of ‘yes’.

Torture was used by the Nazis against their enemies in WWII. It was also used by the Allied forces in defeating the Nazis. Never officially confirmed of course. Would we shed a tear if Hermann Goering had his nuts electrocuted in order to ascertain exactly where a train full of Jews was being deported too and prevent their deaths?

This issue goes right to the very heart of the pacifism question. The title could easily have been ‘Is Pacifism Always a Good Thing?’ The gut response of most liberals is that they believe 100% wholeheartedly in pacifism. I am a liberal. I do not believe in totalising catch-all pacifism. I believe in peace, I think there should be no violence or threat of violence to any person in the world. Sadly, this is not a reality. It is human nature to be violent. Just look at Darwinism or any history or sociology text book to understand that.

Violence is a big part of the reason many professions even exist. Soldiers, police officers, social workers, judges, probation officers, councillors, psychologists, doctors and nurses all deal with the after effects of violence and attest to the innate violent streak within many individuals and amongst groups of humans. The question society faces here is ‘how do we respond to violence?’ If the answer is ‘through peaceful means’ then it requires a massive amount of altruistic, sacrificial restraint to maintain such a stance. Gandhi did it. I’m struggling to think of many more examples whose impact was as great. And what if the perpetrator of violence is a state or institution? At what point, and how, is the decision reached to jettison or persist with pacifism? When Hitler enters Austria? Poland? Czechoslovakia? France? When Hitler has murdered a million Jews and communists? Or do we wait until he’s murdered 6 million?

While military torture strategy is a different thing to straightforward belligerent violence and involves calculated, precisely determined, restrained yet intensely focused violence with deliberately prescribed desired consequences, it still forms an important part of the overall discussion on violence.

The notion that a military figure or CIA operative carries out waterboarding, electric shocking, finger nail pulling or psychological torture out of a sadistic psychotic urge is simplistic. Armies have reasons for doing things. Many of which we will never know. They are secrets. To torture somebody cannot be a pleasant thing. We’ve heard the US soliders breaking down in tears recounting the things they were made to do to Iraqi insurgents by their superiors.

Please do not misunderstand me. I am not championing, condoning or supporting the use of military torture. I abhor the countless acts of torture committed over the period of human history, from the Roman crucifixion of Christians to the medieval barbarities of the Spanish Inquisition through to more modern examples such as Stalin’s purges or the disgusting violence directed towards those who spoke out against military dictatorships in countries like Nicaragua, Chile, Guatemala, Brazil, Burma, Cambodia, Thailand, Indonesia, Iraq, Pakistan, Uganda, Guinea, DR Congo, Thailand, Romania, Fiji and on and on and on…(the question of how many of these atrocities were sponsored by the US is another debate).

These acts of torture had no justification whatsoever, they were attempts to destroy people and movements, to debase, demoralise and dehumanise innocent people, they usually ended in the deaths of the torture victims.

However if the question is one of human rights (which, according to most, should be protected at all costs) then at one point do the human rights of one individual override those of a thousand or a million people? If (and it’s a big ‘if’ I admit) six thousand lives could be saved by extracting information through torture from one individual (an individual who had already committed murders or atrocities). Then could it not be said that the human rights of the six thousand were protected? Would torture then be justified? It could be said that torture has already been used to save all of our lives. I refer of course to WWII again, but who knows what other potential events have been prevented by the SAS, CIA, MI5, KGB et al.

It’s up to you to make you’re minds up. Or, if you’ve already made your minds up, to have another think. It’s an ugly subject. But something we should all think about. What’s your opinion?

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Embodying Youth

2009-11-06T13:30:00.000Z

by Anoushka Boodhna

Last week the world’s media broke the joyful news that Kate Moss had grown boobs and gone “curvy”.

According to some columnists, her most recent advertising campaign for Topshop has ended the size-zero tyranny in fashion, media and advertising (collectively referred to in this article as the Industry), finally lifting an ‘embargo’ on real women’s bodies. A celebrity-watching columnist in The Mail online even went so far as to say that Kate Moss’ rounded belly was akin to Rosa Park’s defiant acquisition of a seat at the front of the bus.

However, are Kate’s pictures simply highlighting how body image in the Industry is being altered more and more in the pursuit of a time-defying youthfulness? The pursuit of youth is one of the core reasons behind the use of young and skinny models in the Industry and indeed a primary reason for the serious problem of body dysmorphia. The obsession with youth in our modern age is worrying for many reasons.

Many contemporary fashion trends have created a form of asexualisation in their attempt to synthesise the pursuit of perfection with the pursuit of youth (the idea of ‘perfection’ appears to be perceived as early adolescence). As Kate pouts seductively at her audience, one cannot help notice that Kate’s new boobs – enhanced cleavage a la Photoshop? – seem strangely disproportionate to her narrow hips. I think of the body proportions of a young girl who has entered the first throes of puberty.

Aren't image enhancement programmes just another one of the many ways in which youth can be pursued? The Industry can tame and perfect the adult human body and create an engineered construct according to its ideals – testing the notions of both ‘real’ and ‘woman’ to its limits – by way of aggressive health decisions and so on. Promoting crash-dieting, slimming pills, cigarettes, drugs (remember ‘heroin chic’?), excessive exercise regimes and, at the extreme end, cosmetic surgery.

The agenda in fashion is frequently changing. Back in the 1990s Kate won her supermodel status for representing alternative slighter body shapes on the catwalk in light of the dominance of the Amazonian-like supermodels, such as Naomi Campbell, Cindy Crawford and Elle Macpherson – she was one of the shortest and less curvaceous models of her era. Today, the Industry seems to be about preserving that youthful slimness and blemish-free body particularly found in adolescent girls.

Although this obsession with youth has pervaded in society forever, modern consumerism and celebrity culture is new. Alongside the obvious innovations in modern technological and chemical body enhancement there are other features that characterise our particularly modern obsession with body image in the Industry.

Firstly, there has been a downward shift in the age of the trend-setters in popular culture. Today it’s teenagers with pocket money, not adults with salaries and disposable incomes, that direct many things consumable and thus dominate the high street. Facilitated with the increased wealth and liberal standards of their parents they set the trends in music, fashion, even film. With such an invasion, you’re old and past it at 25. Especially if you don’t watch Skins.

Secondly, there are stories of people in the public eye who are aware of this teen dominance and in a desperate attempt to remain contemporary, pursue the projection of their teenage self: an invocation of an empowered (and more popular) version of their adult selves. That transfiguring pop star, Madonna, and her obsession with her 13-year old daughter – “we dress alike, Lourdes is my best friend” – is a good example of that.

Thirdly, there is a greater tendency amongst spotlight-seeking adults to behave like teenagers and view the world through the same one-dimensional perspective that comes from limited experience. And of course, this means claiming to hate politics and/or anything intellectual.

Why? Are these people in the public eye simply creating teen versions of themselves for consumer-ready, idol-seeking adolescents to buy into?

Or does it go deeper? Are they so driven by malcontent with their current adult lives that they find fulfilment in trying to relive their formative years? Are they trying to address adult neuroses by re-staging those painful scenes of being un-cool at the school dance, but this time writing in a happier ending? Or are they returning to a time of supposed innocence and security (before full-time jobs, mortgages, the fear of terror attacks, street crime, obesity) when their best and most exciting years were still ahead of them?

If the Industry (including the more recent growth of celebrity-driven magazines) is responsible for setting these trends then who, we must ask, is responsible for supporting them and thereby driving demand through voracious and indiscriminate consumption their goods and services?

Who these people really are and their psychological motivations deserves some pondering.

And further, if fashion is cyclical, what could come next?

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Things To Do While I'm Alive

2009-11-03T16:18:00.001Z

by Euclides Montes @Gatulino

A couple of weeks ago I convinced myself that I was dying. Ok, it’s not as dramatic as it sounds, the sense of impending doom lasting for just about 5 minutes during an idle bus ride. But with my general clumsiness and medical history, the feeling was very real while it lasted. And the aftertaste it left got me pondering about life, achievements and all that. At 27, have I achieved everything I wanted to? Certainly not. So, what are those things I should, nay, must do before I actually kick the metaphorical bucket?

I should write a small disclaimer at this stage. If in the next few lines you’re expecting to read a great philosophical treatise on the futility of life achievements or the fragility of our existences, I must admit that you’d have more luck finding a YouTube clip of Jeremy Clarkson noisily suckling directly from the royal bosoms. I just ain’t that deep. Instead, I’m offering you a little glimpse into my crazy head and hoping it gets you pondering about (and planning for) those things you’ve always wanted to do.

I started by thinking about some of the greatest achievement in my life so far and the list looked like:

~~Keep a great relationship with my loved ones~~ Check

~~Find the woman of my dreams and make sure she falls desperately in love with me~~ Check

~~Run a marathon, raising £1000s in the process~~ Check

~~Learn another language to high professional level~~ Check

~~Grow my beard and hair until I look like a wannabe Messiah~~ Check

~~Snog Margaret Thatcher~~ Check

Ok, let’s stop there because this is quickly turning into a self-serving exercise, ego blosturbation if you will.

So, there are all of these things that I’ve managed to achieve already in my life, but the list that I wanted to draft was about the things I should get on with doing now that I’d had my new found sense of purpose thanks to my wonderful [read: rather trivial] epiphany.

So I visited the rich literature of ‘thing to do before..’ that abounds online and the choice is endless yet vaguely pointless.

Swim with dolphins? I think I’d rather chase squirrels in the park. Far cheaper and more rewarding.

Fly Concorde to New York? Erm.. Bugger, as late as Silvio Berlusconi’s sense of decorum.

Walk the Inca trail to Machu Pichu? Only if you promise to clear the country of all tourists but me.

Travel into space? Ta but most hardcore drugs give me a fuzzy belly.

In fact, it felt to me that most of these lists had been drawn up by travel agents during the times when we all used 10 pound notes to wipe our arses with. But to me, all these lists rang hollow and pointless. Should I really spend the best part of my year working like the Duracell bunny, saving all of my money only to fly away to Texas to have a go at cowboy ranching? Really? If I was actually dying tomorrow, would I be thankful that the last thing to flash before my eyes was the glimpses of a bunch of cows waiting in line for the slaughterhouse?

No, friends, that’s not for me. So, instead, I think we should draw a better list and maybe even post it to every single person at the age of 16. That way people aren’t going to be disappointed when visiting a casino in Las Vegas only to find that faux-Pharaoh selling them chips is actually a pissed off usher working like crazy so that he can fly to our very own London and go on the London Eye. Hmm.

I’ll start us off, shall I? Here are the first items in my new list and I promise to do all of this (or at least have a proper go at them) and I might even add a few of your suggestions if they’re really, really good.

Keep the first two of the list above going strong until the peaceful day I give up the ghost.

Write that novel I’ve been threatening the world with for so long now.

Become a master in the science of stilt walking.

Get 200 people to re-enact that Braveheart scene (you know the one) in Trafalgar Square with me.

Become best friends with Simon Pegg.

Never shrink from standing up for what I believe.

Age disgracefully and never allow the puerile and immature child in me to die.

Never say no to an ‘off the beaten’ track challenge.

It’s possible that I may be accused of lacking ambition, or some such similar charge, but to be honest I’m not sure I care. I firmly believe that life should not be defined by how many exotically-named facebook photo albums you have.

In fact, the reason that I’ve called my list ‘things to do while I’m alive’ is because we shouldn’t be hankering after these seemingly “amazing things” to do at some point in the future, but maybe it should instead be about finding the beauty and magic in every moment we have right now.

I grant you, it’s probably not possible to achieve your greatest conquest every day. But each day that passes could be a stepping stone toward getting there. That way, when you’re actually facing the grim reaper at the final stage you’ll be able to hand in a well worn body, a memory full of wonderful victories, a heart overflowing with happiness and a bright and wide smile that says ‘no regrets’.

Right, I better quit while I’m ahead lest I embarrass myself any further by sounding like Oprah’s Christmas Special. To come full circle, I reiterate that I hope this silly post gets you pondering about those things you’ve always wanted to do with your life. I’ll certainly get on with mine! Now, who’s up for some kilt-wearing hilarity in central London?

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Pornography?

2009-10-30T15:39:00.001Z

By Jason Todd - Guest Contributor

Pornography. Escapist fantasies? A bit of harmless fun? Sexually liberating? Plain old wrong? Whatever your view, because let’s not pretend you don’t have one, porn is here and it’s here in a big way.

Porn has moved off of the top shelf and is in our homes. You may think this sounds a little like something Mary Whitehouse would storm the BBC saying, but none-the-less, it would be hard to deny that it’s true. Pornography has crept onto mainstream television. Films like 9 songs have brought it back into the cinema and with magazines like Nuts and Loaded it is still firmly in the newsagents.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I think in the main, pornography is ok. Well, at least in the sense that I don’t see anything inherently wrong with a consenting adult(s) watching another set of consenting adults having sex for the purpose of sexual gratification, or just for a laugh. In fact, one could argue that pornography has done some good. I think on the whole people today (certainly those of my generation - the ’20 something’s’) are more open and confident about their sexuality and sexual practice. They are more aware, and have better sex as a result. I’m not sure many people would argue that we should return to the sexually repressed age of doctors inducing orgasms for stressed women… although, judging by some porn titles, apparently some people do.

But here is my ponder, when did this happen? When did porn become ‘OK’ and do we really think that it is actually all ok? Gone are the days of having to travel to a seedy shop in Soho and leave with a paper bag. Now pornography is well and truly out in the open. People talk about porn, people buy it openly, hell your nan’s probably seen it.

I am opting to avoid any huge social commentary, because there are more able and eloquent people amongst us who can do a better job, but seriously, when did this happen? And whilst we’re at it, by having this ever more open view of pornography have we opened the door to something seedier, that by default we all now have to accept? Gone are the days of having to hide porn away, but gone too are the days of Shannon Tweed politely bobbing up and down on some mullet-wearing man in time to Santana-esque electric guitar, and in are the days of “gagging”, “puking” “abuse of drunks” and the now infamous ‘two girls one cup”. By opening the way for porn in its most general sense, did we also inadvertently invite these more extreme forms into the open? Did we legitimise them?

I stated by saying that I don’t have any real issue with pornography in the abstract sense, but I’m uncomfortable with the idea that this means I then have to also accept it in its extreme forms. Sex should be fun, it should be pleasurable, and so too then by extension should pornography. So why then is it now nasty? Something happened in society to make pornography acceptable, but what on earth happened to make this new form ok? My original reason for writing this piece was a conversation I had with a friend. Although never explicitly stated it was clear than in our time we had both watched porn and by the sounds of it enjoyed it. What concerned us was not people watching porn in the abstract, but rather what it purported to tell or show us about socially acceptable norms of sexual behaviour. The subsequent risk then of course is the impact that extreme but recently legitimised forms of pornography could have on young, sexually naïve minds.

And there folks is the heart of my ponder, when did it become ‘ok’ and where do we draw the line of ‘ok-ness’? This musing is full of questions, perhaps then it is fitting to take you back to the title: pornography?

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Shooting The Breeze

2009-10-27T17:04:00.000Z

by Candice Carboo-Ofulue @Candaloo

Is it just me, or does anyone else feel that we need to refresh the debate on black-on-black gun crime? Yes, the media are still salivating over stories of “shootings” and “gangsters”, but it seems that the Government has left the building. Meanwhile cases such as Nathan Harris; a teenager sentenced to 16 years in prison for ordering the shooting of 20 year old Craig Brown saturate the media. Except, what I didn’t see anywhere in all of the coverage of this heartbreaking story was anyone asking why. Why has a teenage boy taken this track in life? Why does a teenage boy know how to get his hands on a gun? Why do we have a lynch mob style “death by reputation” media inquest, instead of having real solutions put in place to prevent this happening again? Why has this issue slipped down the political agenda? Now, more than ever we need to tread those murky waters of “underachievement”, joblessness and poor housing.

Recently, the only noise around this issue is that being created by the tabloids spitting stories of “gangsters” and “villains” infesting our streets. Like the Medieval morality plays, these stories have no intention of raising debate; they are designed to instill fear, entrench stereotypes and ultimately sell papers. And of course, there is also the unmistakable sound of the police cracking down. Meanwhile, black boys slide deeper into the abyss of gangs, guns and violence.

To a large extent, gun crime has traditionally been linked to the seedy world of drug dealers. However, the uncomfortable truth now is that gun crime is spreading its tentacles beyond drugs. Turning black youth culture into a delinquent sub-culture. What morals and values are we instilling in our youth? Our most recent attempts to engage, mostly driven by the media I should add, have sucked us into discussions of “callousness” and “gangsterism”. Unfortunately, this type of analysis uproots solutions from the social realm and drops them into some of kind of fantasy world made up of good guys and bad guys. Unfortunately life is not that simple. Call me cynical but is this not just a deliberate attempt to ignore our societal responsibilities? I wonder.

What is the basis for our unwillingness or inability to address the problems? Or is it that we’re just unable to understand? What is perhaps unsettling for some is that when we start to analyse the human behind the monster, we discover that his desires and aspirations are not that different from "our" own. Success, power, affluence – these are considered normal aspirations. So as the fog of fear begins to clear, what we see is a parallel sub-culture, with a unique set of skills and values. In this world violence and guns are normal methods of achieving respect and success. Here, the “gangster” is functional, entrepreneurial, likeable. Could this be an alternative society that accepts those rejected by the mainstream?

Oh, and before anyone starts on about rap music providing unsavoury role models again, please don’t. Instead, perhaps we should be looking closer to home before casting blame elsewhere. Let’s talk about why our young black boys are so poorly equipped emotionally to be able to deal with anger and frustration? Where are their vocational or intellectual skills to access society? How do we broaden their horizons?

Last week, as most of us were sucked into the frenzy around Nick Griffin’s appearance on Question Time, the news that the Metropolitan Police plans to deploy armed police units to patrol estates in Tottenham, Lambeth and Haringey slipped surreptitiously into the BBC evening news. This, they said, was to “proactively respond to the increase in gun crime" and is only a “temporary” measure. Hmmm, when did the definition of proactive include a semi-automatic weapon?

I’m no expert but this will probably result in more arrests, increased marginalisation and evidently more shootings. Come on people, let’s start talking before the Government commissions Brazilian style death squads to clean our streets.

There is a big blue elephant in the room, and he’s angry and holding a gun.

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A Terrible Case of the X

2009-10-23T19:02:00.000+01:00

by John Ellul - guest contributor

So, for better or for worse, Cheryl Cole’s debut solo performance came and went this weekend on The X-Factor and the world has continued spinning regardless. After encountering a backlash when it emerged that Cole planned to record the performance beforehand and mime over the track. She then appeared to swerve everyone, presumably in answer to her critics. Her seat was empty at the start. She stayed in the same costume throughout. Some of the vocals were shaky – surely it was live. Were we all had? Does it even matter?

The calls for authenticity on a TV show more artificial than ‘Cosmetic Surgery Live’ are a bit misguided, with some under the impression that Cole should ‘set an example’ by singing live. Perhaps having a stellar career for the last few years gives her the right to a night off – but would the same apply in other walks of life? “I’ve been a brilliant postman for 17 years now. Today though, I’m just going to pretend to post the letters while I play on the swings and you lot can sod off.”

The abiding issue isn’t about the quality of Cheryl Cole’s singing – but of the song. Cheryl didn’t have to write a great song, rather choose one from those offered to her. Ms Cole has the world at her feet and all her army of expert advisers had to do was pick a barnstormer with which to announce herself on the international solo stage. Seeing as “choosing the right song” is about the only tangible thing the mentor has to do for their chosen acts on The X-Factor, this should have been a breeze.

The limp, lifeless ‘Fight For This Love’ is boring, drab sub-R&B album filler at best. So is Cheryl the next Beyonce or the next Mel C? The song will likely get to number one this Sunday thanks to the exposure Simon Cowell can guarantee (in exchange for her firstborn, presumably) but on this evidence a tail-between-the-legs Girls Aloud reunion can’t be too far off. The Daily Mail got it half-right – the song is derivative, but not because it’s a Kelis rip-off.

The man behind the song, Andre Merritt, is responsible for several recent successes (Chris Brown – ‘Forever’; Rihanna – ‘Disturbia’) and his reference demo has been floating around the net since December. In the year since then it’s also been recorded by American singer (and 2002 American Idol contestant) Tamyra Gray. Looking closer into Cheryl’s tracklisting we also find the 2008 will.i.am hit ‘Heartbreaker’, on which she (apparently) sang the chorus, and a cover of Nikola Rachelle’s 2006 single ‘Don’t Talk About This Love’. That’s an awful lot of recycling.

Song-swapping is commonplace in contemporary R&B, a genre Cheryl Cole appears eager to shoehorn herself into. This scene consists of several songwriting collectives and individuals who’ll go anywhere once the cheque clears, ‘rent-a-pens’ with few scruples and even less quality control. Once the song is done, a vocal reference is recorded to demonstrate how to sing it and it’s emailed to whoever wants it. This process often runs into roadbumps. Usher initially hesitated over recording 2004 mega-hit ‘Yeah!’, and when he did eventually ask to buy the rights to the song, producer Lil’ Jon had sold it to rapper Petey Pablo. A hastily-made imitation was thrown together and proved a smash.

So how much of the music we listen to is really ‘real’? I’m pretty confident this musical ‘bed-hopping’ doesn’t take place in other genres. Was ‘Golden Skans’ originally offered to Kasabian before they passed it up? Did ‘America’ sit on a producer’s desk for a year while Razorlight, The Kaiser Chiefs and The Killers argued over it? We used to be able to kid ourselves that our pop stars were at least trying to keep up the charade. Now, not only is the Emperor wearing no clothes, he’s smiling and shaking his dangling bits in our face while he does it.

The British black pop music scene is experiencing exposure and success on a never before seen level. Chipmunk, Dizzee Rascal, Ironik, Tinchy Stryder and N-Dubz have all had recent triumphs and Cheryl Cole stands as the R&B figurehead, alongside Taio Cruz, and her X-Factor cohorts Alexandra Burke and Leona Lewis. Reality shows have served her well and she needs to seize this opportunity creatively or risk solo failure.

Perhaps she is more aware than I give her credit for though. Booking Whitney “I Will Always Have a Problem” Houston to sing directly after you is a masterstroke that ensures few people will remember your own drawbacks. The Evening Standard wrote that Houston “looked flustered” when talking to host Dermot O’Leary. Since when did “flustered” become the accepted euphemism for “on crack”? “Sorry I haven’t been in for work for three months boss, I was flustered. In a flustered den, with my flustered pipe.”

Whether Cheryl’s approach to her album and her career are ‘admirable’, this is of course academic – both the album and subsequent singles are guaranteed sales and financial success thanks to blanket coverage. The naysayers have bemoaned sampling in hip-hop, and autotune in R&B – is a backlash against the invisible business of ‘song-swapping’ far off?

Hubby Ashley, who dutifully sat in the crowd on Sunday night, is to be applauded. Faced with the prospect of their partners embarking on international superstardom, more insecure husbands would feel emasculated. Not our Ash. Although maybe he just wants Cheryl to reach a second album so he and Rio’s imaginary hip-hop ensemble (the Merx Brothers?) can appear as guest rappers and finally “spit some hot lyrics”. And how much exactly would Cheryl pay her beloved Ashley to appear as a guest on her album? £55 grand? Is she taking the piss, Jonathan?

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To Tweet Or Not To Tweet: An Ode to Twitter

2009-10-20T15:48:00.000+01:00

by Rachel Surtees (@RVSurtees)

Any Twitterers out there will be more than familiar with the pained look of a sceptical non-Twitterer. First the eyes glaze over. Then at the very mention of the words “social networking site” you get the pity stare. By the time you’ve got to “no you don’t understand, it’s nothing like MyFace” well by then you’ve completely lost them.

The irony is, anyone not yet familiar with Twitter is the one deserving of a healthy dose of pity. Twitter is the latest social networking site, and it is nothing like Facebook, but I genuinely believe Twitter could well be our saving grace.

Twitter is a way of being privy to conversations that you would otherwise never be a part of. It’s a way of getting access to the most extraordinary amount of information that you would otherwise never be able to find. Twitter is what happens when millions of people come together to create something bigger than themselves.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard of a feed aggregator. Igoogle is probably the most well known example. Aggregrators allow you to create a personalised homepage so that you only have to go to one place to see all of your favourite websites. “Revolutionary technology” not so long ago. “Technology that would change our way of looking at the web”. Except of course, that it wouldn’t because we would all still be looking at the same old stuff. Whereas Twitter, well Twitter went where feed aggregators couldn’t. It opened the doors to the expansiveness of the internet. Twitter aggregates everyone’s thoughts, links, stories, snippet’s of information, breaking news all onto your homepage.

Anyone who is on Facebook and complains about the amount of narcissism on the site has fundamentally misunderstood Facebook, and themselves. In fact if you ever want to win the “Narcissist of the Week” cup, just devote one of your FB statuses to bitching about the fact that people just talk about themselves in their own status updates. WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?

Anyone who says that Facebook is becoming progressively more like Twitter has fundamentally misunderstood Twitter.

Maybe Twitter is just another craze. Just another website, just another procrastination, just another indulgence, just another distraction. Or maybe it’s something much more. Maybe Twitter will be the first step towards us, (that’s you, me, your grandmother’s neighbour… your grandmother), reclaiming our moral identities. Coming together as one society and redefining all of those boundaries that we’ve allowed to become so blurred over the last decade.

This week alone there have been two high profile examples of how Twitter has united us. Actually, allow me to rephrase, there have been two examples of how Twitter has enabled us to unite. The first was how the Twitteratti and The Guardian took on Carter-Ruck and safeguarded our right to open reporting of parliamentary proceedings. The second was of course Moir-gate.

After the Jan Moir debacle, she came out and accused those of us who complained about it as being part of a “heavily orchestrated attack”. You’ve got to feel a little for the vile little woman. To be so out of touch with reality that you can believe that the 22,000 people who sent complaints into the Press Complaints Commission (PCC) over weekend only did so because Stephen Fry and Derren Brown coerced them into it? Well to believe that you have to be really, really stupid. What Moir failed to see was that it was an outpouring from a society that has suddenly refound its voice. A society that has become so fractured to be able to come together and say no. To say that we are unwilling to accept homophobic slurs in our national press. That’s one moral boundary rebuilt. Twitter facilitated that dialogue.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ascribing Twitter.com with any inherent moral good. We’re the ones capable of defining what is right and what is wrong. Twitter just allows us to take those definitions out of our living rooms and put them squarely into the big bad world.

Why not give it a go? I reckon you’ll feel a bit lost and possibly even a bit bored during the first week. Then after that, when you start getting used to how it works, you’ll begin to see what the 18 million of us see.

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Little Nicky: A question of free speech or home entertainment?

2009-10-17T19:20:00.002+01:00

by Peter Manning - guest contributor

As I am sure you know Nick Griffin is on Question Time next week. There has been a lot of fuss among the liberal left about the fact that the BBC is providing a platform for a far-right group to promote its agenda on a popular show that always does well in the ratings. The BNP website has, in fact, already installed a countdown clock, as if welcoming in some kind of apocalyptic final showdown; Straw and Griffin, poised to go head to head (I assume with Dimbleby acting as some kind of burlesque referee). I don’t think Griffin knows Straw has impaired eyesight; I don’t think Straw knows he is facing a parody of Stephen King’s ‘IT’ (principally manifest as a clown, but sometimes also taking the form of people’s deepest fears). If we accept that the limit of free speech within a democratic society is realised exactly at the propagation of wholly undemocratic ideas then we should quite reasonably conclude that a publicly funded body should not allow this farce. But a farce is what it will almost certainly be, and, I think, it may be a useful one.

I personally can’t take Nick Griffin seriously; he does actually remind me of an angry clown. For the record, I am completely aware that Griffin’s rhetoric is not only offensive, but also inflammatory and potentially dangerous. The recent spats of racially motivated violence and vandalism against Muslims and Jews are enough to remind us how serious a general threat the ideas of the far right in modern Britain can be.

The other panellists on Question Time have a decision to make early on next Thursday. On the one hand, they can collectively condemn Griffin from the off, quashing his attacks wherever possible, bully style, at best letting proceedings deteriorate into a shouting match, and, at worst, potentially risking an exhibition in martyrdom. On the other, an alternative (albeit risky) approach may very well be to let Griffin enjoy the platform, abuse it even. By keeping disagreement and correction firm but mild – parental, soothingly patronising even – the panel can allow Griffin to be the only farce on show. Thinking back a year or so ago, Joe Biden’s strategy in the Vice-Presidential debate showed that this can work. Biden respectfully allowed Palin to expose her own cognitive deficiencies. I am obviously not trying to compare the politics of Sarah Palin and Nick Griffin; one is an extremist power-hungry maniac, and the other is… Er…

The point is that Griffin’s ideas should not be taken seriously, even if they are by some groups that are presently feeling disenfranchised from the public sphere. Surely we should be addressing the roots of that marginalisation, rather than assuming swathes of the population are either innately racist, or too stupid to spot someone making a public fool of them self? This is not ‘Weimar Britain’, despite the BNP’s preference for the population transfer of all non-indigenous persons (that is, essentially, all of us – can the last person in Britain please turn the light out?). The fact that the BNP website seriously suggests that ‘overpopulation’ – a direct result of immigration – is ‘the cause of the destruction of our environment’ shows that Griffin can quite capably show the fallacies of the BNP attack without any help, and quite on his own terms.

The great thing about the UK is that we (generally) have an understanding of public citizenship according to secular and non-ethnic/racial/gendered criteria. That is something that – dare I say it – we can be proud of, and something that has taken many hundreds of years to establish. Yes, we live in a culture that en masse consumes Simon Cowell as entertaining, and yes, sometimes the public is not critical enough of blindingly obvious blights to our society (the Royal Family). But there is a tendency on the liberal left to err toward a rhetoric of condemnation which, in situations like the forthcoming BNP Question Time appearance, further inhibit the collective critical conscience, rather than stimulating it. In some situations this can be helpful, crucial even (on climate change perhaps). But the public needs to be able to make its own judgement on Nick Griffin, in many ways just to illustrate clearly what political apathy can lead to. In making that judgement, I am convinced that the public will see Griffin next Thursday for what he is: an angry (and dangerous) clown.

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