Hacked&Snotty
I'm ill. I am horribly yuckily ill. So much for my birthday.
It was actually very nice, if coming with the necessary dose of trauma, Monday was amazing, after the longest and rather coldest train journey (how spoilt I am, just a few months ago I was doing London to Edinburgh on the over night bus every month and now i can hardly stand the train!) I got to see some of my old Scottish friends, two of whom I haven't seen for ages and we ate and laughed and then went to see Dylan Moran who was... not awesome, but crunchy. -Yup, you should have been there- by Tuesday I was loaded with cold from the stupid train and spent most of my birthday sneezing. Had an argument with mum which was horrible but eventually sorted out and we went for afternoon tea. Today I was supposed to be at work but the whole argument blazed up again in the car, started by her saying i was too ill to go down, but I of course was stubborn and said, no I'm going, I go to work, it's what I do. Ended up missing the train. At least I was actually ill, not that evil manager was sympathetic but ernestly reminded me that I am to be at work on saturday. thanks.
I sent off my articles for the paper and now am worrying about them terribly. I can't get them back either. Help! Was contemplating editing or sending something else. Would anyone be so darling as to read 'em through and give an opinion? Would help me no end!
Some of this is highly familiar to what i have already written- i have very few ideas :-P
hehe, you should se me trying to do a cut. it's painful.
Guilty Pleasures
It is very easy to pass judgment on things we have dropped into particular categories. This, we say, is trashy teenage literature, and I am not going to read it. We sneer at people who do, we use its name to mean something unfashionable or trashy, we abuse it blithly wihtout having the least what it actually means.
But oh, be careful.
By chance recently I was sat in a cafe and had brought nothing to read or write (and I simply cannot sit in a cafe without something to read or write in) so i browsed around and found myself a simple little book. It was in fact, a teenage vampire novel about high school rejects, gorgeous boys and oh yes, vampires. How awful I thought. How too too tiresome, but at least now i shall be able to abuse it freely and with more confidence.
I started to read, laughing with derision at each emotional plea towards our main character... a full two hours later I looked up, half way through the book with tears in my eyes. I caught sight of the clock and the fact that I had been enjoying the book hit me like stake in the heart. An odd thing about humans... they don't like to admit that they are wrong. They will go to quite some extents to prove that they are not. And so I kept my book (and the subsequent eight in the series) hidden under my bed where no one would dare to look, yes, even behind the porn, to the darkest most fluff-covered corner. If soemone came in suddenly. WoOSH. under the covers it goes. Me? Reading? Reading nothing. Thinking. Go away. I need to think.
It's not my book. Well I don't LIKE it. Me? I wouldn't stoop so low...
Ignorance
So There’s Left Wing and there’s Right Wing… and what is the difference? I confess to not being entirely sure. Oughtn’t we to know? Oughtn’t politics to be a little something more than a personality contest? During the recent American election I discussed with British friends their feelings… the popular response was thus: Well I like Obama, he seems like a nice guy, don’t really know what he stands for or anything, but you know, he’s black and that’s a really good thing. Well yes, it is I suppose, and everyone seems to be pretty darn clear that George Bush was an unqualified idiot and should never have been left home alone, but when it comes to all the things we complain about politicians getting wrong we never seem to consider the right. Shouldn’t we be aware of what is actually happening in our world? However globalisation may be expanding it, and global warming may be shrinking it, it is still our world, a world governed by the acts of the human race. Can we bare to watch this time sail past us without making our stand, without making voices heard and making some sort of impact….
Rejeneration
Why change a perfectly good formula?
Today’s market is obsessed by what is new and cool, and not what is good and has stood the test of time. One cannot buy one’s self a good phone that will last. No phone is built to last - and not because it isn’t possible, but because all the manufacturers know full well that in six months time there will be a new shiny model out.
Perhaps this recession might not have hit us quite so hard if we were not constantly striving for more pixels or greater resolution or indeed new improved flavour with less calories. Why can we not accept this is what it is- accept it. It seems to be a philosophy for life as well, though. As recently as fifty years ago people found a job and stuck to it, and this was the time honoured way. Nowadays most of the people you talk to will openly confess that they do not wish to stay in their current position but that it’s just to pay the bills. The positive side of this is the dream that anyone can become anything; it no longer matters what sex you are or what class you come from, your vitals at birth are not in any way dictating what you must be come. It is a culture grown out of reality tv shows, of celebration of the everyday man for celebrity. The negative side of all this seems to be millions of people feeling disappointed with their lives.
I’ll confess this article did not spring up from any great musings on the state of the wild, but from our friend, the humble Jaffa cake. Who does not love the Jaffa Cake? Many people I suppose, but those who do, do. And now? Now they bring us *fanfare please* The Strawberry Jaffa.
Because why was that necessary? Who was sitting at home thinking, damn these Jaffa Cakes are good, if only they came in more flavours… then the world would be a better place.
Note to Mr Jaffa and the Rest of the World: If is aint broke--