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I've been spending more time in the pub recently, and it's got me thinking (yes, it hurt):

- Smoking is bad for you
- Passive smoking is more harmful to your health that smoking itself
- Pubs are full of smokers smoking

Does that mean that, for the sake of your health, you should smoke when in a smoky place, as the air you breathe will be less lethal through your cigarette that it will be out of someone else's mouth?

When you smoke though, you don't take every breath through your fag, so you'll still be breathing in some second-hand smoke. But would it still be worth it to smoke so you get slightly less passive smoke? That's assuming you don't try to chug any through your own cigarette. Hmm.

The logical halt to this conversation is to say that people shouldn't smoke. That's all very good to say, but people like their nicotine. The government plan on banning smoking in pubs and restaurants, but smoking will still ensue in other places. I think it's an unhealthy vice that's here to stay, and no legislation will stop that. Plus, the government needs people to smoke - it's how they fund the country.

And finally, kids, don't smoke.

 
On the whole, I hate Christmas. It just doesn't cut it for me anymore. Working in retail has killed my Christmas spirit, and this will be my fourth Chrimbo behind a till.

But more than that, I've always felt guilty for not being a Christian yet 'celebrating' a Christian festival. As far as my beliefs stand, there probably was a guy called Jesus, he probably was a religious leader, but whether he did miracles or was the actual son of God, I don't know. I don't particularly care either, because I doubt I'll ever have proof for it that satisfies me.

Conversely, there is no proof against it that I can draw on. And I don't mean just for a Christian god, I mean for any deity. The world is all very conveniently and cleverly made, and apparently shows design. I still think it could have happened by chance, but my explanation for that is far too long and complicated, and extremely boring.

What did I start off about? Celebrating other people's festivals. In all honesty, I haven't really celebrated Christmas much at all these last few years. This year, I haven't sent out any cards, I haven't given any presents yet, and I've barely bought anything for my family. The decorations only went up last week and the Christmas concerts I was in didn't have much in the way of Christmas music in them. I'm even immune to the bloody Christmas CD at work!

But that can only be a good thing.

If I really meant it all, I'd abstain from buying any presents. I know a few people who did this year, but I feel that I can't because I've already been given some. My problem is that I like giving, and everyone likes receiving.

Why don't we celebrate our half birthdays instead? That would solve a lot of problems. It spreads the cost out through the year, it isn't religious and it means you won't be broke just before you need all your money to get smashed on New Year's!

 
Applying to university is very, very fun. I've not had this much post... ever! Even if you're not going to go to uni, I thoroughly recommend you apply. For £15, you too will feel truly needed in the world.

I would say that you should apply to a more unpopular course. The less people doing the course, the more mail you'll get. It's an inverse proportion, if you like:

Number of Applicants = constant x 1/Amount of Post

Not sure what the constant is; I wouldn't have had to use it if I could find the 'proportional to' sign in the character map. Maths is far too popular a course, while we're here.

I've applied for chemical engineering. Last year, 900 people in the country applied to do it. 18 universities provide it, but this number is dwindling as the funding isn't there any more. Since I sent off my UCAS form, I've had a letter virtually every day, which makes me feel rather loved. I've been invited to 5 open days across the country, and at the two I've been to so far, I've been provided with lunch and guided tours.

If you want the world to notice your existence for a while, this is definitely the best way to do it. It's not illegal, you won't get fined if you don't go in the end, and the food is good. Plus it's all really fast as it's completely computerised.

The moral of all my waffling? A lot of schools are really keen for you to apply to university. Mine sure is. Don't skimp on it though, it's fun and relatively inconsequential. You never know, you may actually decide to do the course!

 
Woah, when did we get all that extra space in our Hotmail accounts? I was quite shocked, I went from 80% to 1% capacity in the space of a day!

And everyone, I thoroughly recommend you apply to university. You get so much mail, I feel so loved!

 
Hello strangers! Sorry I've been so long, there's been an awful lot going on!

Well, how have you been? Good? Good. Everyone seems to have that 'yuppie cold' at the moment, though I'm sure one of them are yuppies, but one of them does snort coke.

But yeah, busy busy busy! I was in Birmingham yesterday, 350 mile round trip, 7 and a half hours in the car. I just got a letter through with an offer from aston too, all good stuff!

Did Bush actually win this election? I'm still trying to get confirmation from my American contacts, if you hear anything first, keep me posted!

I best go now, see you later!

 
Astma research is generally done on animals, because to study it, you either need to cut their larynx open or induce an astma attack, which is, in human terms, assault, and probably murder by the time you are done.

In Farenheit 9/11, Michael Moore, irritating though he is, made the point that only one person in Congress (or maybe the Senate, I can't remember) had a child serving in Iraq.

Do you think an animal rights protester would offer their child for medical research?

 
Guess where I was yesterday?

It was hot.
It was sweaty.
There were a lot of people in a very confined space, and
There was live, loud music.

Me and Nick went to the Kerrang! Day of Rock, and much fun it was too! I had a shower this morning and I still smell of other people.

It was good, though. I thought it might be all 13 year-olds but there was a good mix of all ages. We didn't get in for the first band, yourcodenameis:milo, and we kept getting moved around so we didn't get to watch them on the screens that much either. We managed to be let in on the 4th wave though, we had snuck our way into the huddled queue and were in the last group they let in before Reuben began their set.

And my, my, what a set!

Hustling, bustling, crowdsurfers and my glasses breaking, I haven't been in such a fun pit since Schpunk in June. They're thoroughly fantastic, and if you value good music you'll vote for them in the Kerrang! awards, and ever after too. They really got the crowd going, and though I didn't see them because I was too short, I had a damn good mosh about.

And my glasses? A brightly-dressed surfer clipped me hard in the back of the head, cracking me into the guy in front. My forehead broke one lense out and twisted the frames, making them pretty unwearable. I thankfully managed to find the lense on the flor before anyone stood on it, but it wouldn't go back in for love nor money. I have to go to the opticians today to get them fixed.

In between bands they had a guitar competition, and one of the competitors looked so much like David that it took me a minute to figure out it wasn't him. But bloody hell, if you believe in doubles, here was a living example.

Next band was Minus, a shouty outfit from Iceland who played a short but effective set that ended rather abruptly. I sat this one out, to dry off as much as anything else, but I managed to find a good vantage point, letting me actually see what was going on, rather than pondering what the band looked like. Not my kind of music, but damned good anyway.

Drinks were uber expensive, but then Costa Coffee always is. I only buy stuff from the one at work because I get a 10% discount in there.

Last up was who we had been waiting for: Biffy Clyro. Need I say more? Scottish, stoned and immensely energetic, the only thing that spoiled their set was a couple of wankers in the crowd who kept kicking out despite the small space. Ahh, they were fantastic, and I got their autographs. At some point I'll scan them all in. Mmm, Biffy Clyro. It was even more packed than Reuben, and at times it was difficult to breathe. I'm quite surprised I didn't pass out, it was that hot. My top got soaked and strtched all out of shape, but do I care? No, it was worth it, especially considering the top cost me £2.50 out of Primark.

Gotta love Primark.

After we got out, we managed to buy a copy of Reuben's album about 3 minutes before HMV shut, letting me get my discount on it (yay!). It would have cost £1.20 more if we'd bought it in Virgin instead.

And finally, my list of losses and gains for the evening, something I always manage after gigs and pits.

Lost:
1 bracelet
1 earring
Hearing (since regained)
The integrity and shape of my glasses

Gained:
1 lumpy bruise, lower left leg
1 sore, left shoulder
1 pink stain, left wrist, from a pink wooden bracelet
1 small bruise, left hand
1 neck ache, right side
Dirt on shoes that wasn't there prior to gig
DNA from approx. 100 people
Approx 5 pints of donated sweat
1 BAD smell

I'm definitely going next year, and look out for my bracelets in next week's Kerrang! magazine.

 
Daytime TV will kill us all one day.

You remember about a year ago when that guy decided to tell the world about his 6 wives, 20-odd kids and Mormon beliefs? I think I saw the episode of Jerry Springer he was on yesterday. Deary deary me, what a palava.

I'm not going to lecture about his decisions, what with banging up 14 year-old girls and all the nastiness involved in ruling over all these women who are happy to be subserviant, as that's over the pond. Polygamy may strike a bit closer to home.

A few years ago, I don't know if it's still in consideration, but due to the influx of immigrants who practised polygamy, the EU were thinking about legalising it. Polygamy, by definition, is about a man marrying lots of women, which is sexist. In an attempt to be all equal-ops, the law would have to apply to women marrying many men.

If men can marry many women, and women can marry many men, will we all end up married to each other? The guy on telly said that his marriages were better than anyone in the audience's, about how he hadn't had a divorce and all that sort of thing, but surely if we did all get married, it would take the specialness out of marriage? Won't we all just end up married to each other? And think about the living arrangements, and the divorce settlements!

But what about the children? Their parents may be too busy managing their hectic relationships to look after their children. And what of the father? If she has several husbands, how do you know who the father is? Would it even be seen as important? Would that create jealousy and favouritism in a family?

As you can tell, I don't agree with polygamy. Not for men, not for women, not for anyone. If I marry someone, I don't want him to love anyone else like he loves me. It strikes me as a solution to affairs, like a live-in mistress. Bah. Maybe it's because I've had a nice homelife or something. But the whole concept seems totally wrong, and I hope they never legalise it.

 
There is a cure to the Coopers Disease!
 
You are well aware by now of what I think of Coopers, and it is a view shared by several people I know who attend the school. But much as they hate it too, some of them still suffer from the Coopers Disease.
 
There are several symptoms, but not all may be present, and some exist in people naturally.
 

• All-encompassing egotism
• Natural intelligence, often accompanied by a sporty flare or the ability to play an instrument
• An air of presumed supremacy
• The potential to be a real wanker

Now don't get me wrong, I have some good friends at Coopers, or who went to Coopers, and it was seeing a friend who had left Coopers on Friday that prompted me to write this.

Let's call him Bob, and his youger brother Bill. I'm not sure how much they'd appreciate me writing this with their real names. Anyway. I met Bob nearly 3 years ago at orchestra, and could tell quite quickly that he went to Coopers. He was much better than I could ever hope to be at music, he was condesending to anyone he didn't like and had it in him to be a total tosser. I wasn't on the receiving end of anything more than a few funny comments, but it was easy to guess what he'd be like to someone he wanted to make cry. His ego wasn't all-encompassing, but it was quite hefty, and I did feel looked down upon when I first met him.

His brother was much less so of all that. People make jokes and pick on us younger siblings, but it was your mistakes we learnt from, not our own. But Bill: at Coopers, yes, naturally intelligent, yes, tosspot, no. He was still slightly afflicted, but more in the way the French Resistance happened to speak French. There was nothing else he could really have been, going to the school and all that. I talked to Bill much more than Bob, and we both knew that when Bob and the rest of our breaktime group left, we'd be the only two left.

For two years, then, there was the group of us, about 8 in total I think. Me and Helen, Bill and Bob, a girl who had been to and left Coopers because she hated it, and another girl who was from the school the first girl transferred to, and a few others beside. Confusing, huh? It was good, though. At breaks, we'd sit about in the canteen, eat Galaxy bars and complain about all manner of stuff and rubbish. They were mostly Helen's friends, as she'd known them longer, except Bill, who we'd known for the same amount of time. But it was nice, a refreshing change from all the bitching at school.

As with all things, it came to an end. Last year we waved off Bob and both girls as they left for university, and Helen departed for full time work. Bill and I were left to our own devices on Monday evenings in the college, eventually finding a decent spot in the stairwell by the door, muttering "Freaks!" to each other at anyone who gave us a funny look as they walked past.

A whole year passed of this, interspersed with illness and exams, until the concert the other day.

Every 2 years, we take part in a concert in the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London's South Bank. It's all very fancy: black and white dress, boys in bow ties and conductors in their finery. We go up there in the morning, practise during the day, and perform in the evening. All time in between is our own, so we usually play cards.

Friday wasn't much different. We played rummy, trumps, beggar my neighbour, Montana reddog, cheat, chase the ace and a few others. For the rest of the time, we sat about chatting. For some reason, I ended up spending near the whole day with Bill and Bob, and it was in this time that I realised the cure for Coopers Diesease...

Go to university!

Gone was the condescending, self-important occasional arsehole, leaving behind the person I only suspected existed... which was a nice surprise.

Could this miracle cure work for everyone, though? Will all that twattishness be drained away when they face the big wide world? There are some key points to note here:

1. Bob hated Coopers. He would moan about anything and everything about the school, and cheered when vandals did the place over one night.
2. Though I didn't know him before prior to his time there, I think the school gave him his pompous edge and wankerish behaviour. He probably wasn't a bad sort before he went there.
3. He couldn't wait to leave. He used to talk about university loads and how good it was going to be paying a mere £1 a pint in the student union bar.

So was it a case of the patient having to be willing to receive the treatment for it to work? I don't know, as his is the only case I've seen, but I think it may well be. If you're born a wanker, you're a wanker for life. If you become a wanker, there may be a chance that you can be a nice person again, as demonstrated by Bob.

And as for Bill? He applied for a load of different colleges, but his parents want him to stay on at Coopers 6th Form. But fear not, he's already got plans for the place, some including fire, others including silly string.

Mwahahaha!

 
Bloody hell. What a minefield! I'm surprised anyone makes it to university at all! I haven't even finished year 12 yet and I'm submerged in prospectuses.

Bah. Anyway, how have you all been, sweeties? I've been painfully busy and have a backlog of stuff and rubbish kicking about. One school week left, and I'll have a proper bash at it all.

Let's see, what have I been meaning to talk about...

Comic book adaptations. It ain't a love-hate situation, as some are done well and some should have their directors crucified *ahem League of Extraordinary Gentlemen ahem*. But what's with this surge over the last few years?

Some of these films aren't directly from comic books, I know, but they're in the comic book style. And don't talk about graphic novels to me, it's a bloody comic!

We can trace it all back to the fifties, I think. On a wave of superheroistic feeling in America, paper comics thrived. There was an optimism that we could save the world and make everything better (unless you were reading Batman). Criminals would be caught and we would all be alright.

What a load of bollocks that was! Roll on the B-movie, and all that geekish angst was released on a Saturday morning. Dodgy costumes, plasticine models, wobbly sets and unconvincing monsters. It was the bastard child that Hollywood couldn't bring itself to love wholeheartedly. But there was all sorts of stuff straight from the pages of DC and Marvel - they flew, they had X-ray vision, and they fought for the good cause. They were often the nerdy boys in school as well, giving us losers hope!

There was the Batman TV series, radio shows of various superhero stories, the Superman films, a trend in wearing your pants on the outside, it was even reflected in contempory art. Roy Lichenstein drew pictures of the crying girl and the square-jawed hunk with those shading dots, and several other artists produced pieces with a similar basis.

KAPOW! SOCK! POW!

Ahh, you gotta love that non-violent violence.

I'll have to skip a decade or two, because I can't think of much that happened. But to my point!

The first one I was really aware of was X-Men. I read some X-Men a long time ago, but it wasn't one of my regular reads. It had been a cartoon series for yonks, but aired at some disgusting hour in the morning, between Smurfs and Teletubbies on BBC2. But the general consensus was that the film was pretty good. I thought it was, just the right amount of freaky-magnetic-balding-comic book charm.

Unfortunately, someone noticed.

I don't know what order they came in, but others soon followed.

Spiderman - not too bad.
The Hulk - not too good. And why isn't he incredible anymore? He's still green, isn't he?
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - crimes against humanity!
Van Helsing - cheese with extra cheese on the side. Burn it now.
X-Men 2 - still good.
Spiderman 2 - seeing it tomorrow night.
Garfield - not the same kind of comic, but I doubt I'll be seeing it.
Daredevil - dear God.
Catwoman - after seeing Gothika, I don't think I could bring myself to see another Halle Berry movie.

Even going back a few years, there are ones like Judge Dredd, Batman in various incarnations, The Phantom and The Shadow. All vaguely recently, but not so close together as the most recent spate that started about what, 5 years ago?

Looking at a few in detail, let's take Spiderman. I only saw it for the first time the other day, and was quite impressed. Just enough naffness but the right sentiment with the good-vs-evil thing and the moral crises that you need. Cheesy lines, a scientist who goes crazy, and a spider. Voila!

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. If Alan Moore was dead, he'd be turning in his grave. People who hadn't read the comic thought it was alright, but those of us who had, were horrified. The characters were destroyed, the plot was over-simplified and everything was diivinely convenient. No more! Atrocity!

They seem to be very hit and miss. Watchmen, probably my favourite Alan Moore comic (at the moment at least, it changes regularly) is going to be made into a film, allegedly with the kind of love it needs. X-Men 3 is in some stage of production, and Neil Gaiman's Sandman is in talks as far as I know. It alarms me. Surely some things should be left as they are?

Comic book adaptations, like so many things, need to be done by people who genuinely care. Lord of the Rings was great, and one of the reasons was that Peter Jackson was so in love with the story. Marvel play a heavy role in their adaptations, which may explain why X-Men was so much better than George Clooney's rubber nips. It needs to be out of love, not because the film industry is running out of ideas, which may be one of the motives behind this all.

 
We live in a world of categories. What class are you in at school? What music do you listen to? Where do you live? What colour is your skin?

It helps people form an opinion of you. Not necessarily the right one, as skin colour has no bearing on personality, where you live does not dictate your hobbies, and the music you listen to does not verify your opinions. But it makes it easier for people to digest.

Then we get the cliques. This is more to do with what music you listen to, what you wear, what hobbies you do have and what outlook you have on life. Like with like, we tend to form ourselves into these groups socially. At our school it wasn't so much levels of popularity, but levels of bitchiness, and the real cows ruled the roost. Thank god for 6th form, they pretty much all left, and those who didn't have turned out to be quite nice people.

People often express these things, sometimes through fashion, to make other people think a particular thing. Most people are guilty of it, I know I certainly can be. Some people are worse for it than others.

But you know when, for once, you don't want to look like everyone else? I've had that a lot recently. I've thrown out loads of old clothes I had and bought a load of new ones, including some Tommy Hilfiger jeans, something I wouldn't have dreamt doing a few years ago. It would have seemed far too trendy to my rebellious 14 year-old mind. But stuff it, they're red and comfy, and I like them. I've gone into overdrive making jewellery so I can have something unique round my neck, and have been giving some away to friends when they said they liked them, but each sufficiently different from the previious.

There's no such thing as non-conformity, that's just another category in this shallow society. You don't have to call yourself a non-conformist to prove that you're thinking for yourself, just do it and the people who matter will see it.

And for the record, the reason why I won't wear the following items:
Blazors - 5 years of compulsory education. I may as well wear a green skirt and a school tie to match.
Converse - sometimes used as special shoes for small children with wide feet. I'll feel like a flat-footed cripple again. I wear low-ankle cut fakes instead, because Top Shop shoes are great.
Von Dutch - I still haven't got over flowery cap guy on the bus, and this comic strip.
Adidas - I don't really feel like dressing like the people down my road who throw things at me when I walk by.
Kookai bags - I'm sorry, but I find them hideous. But if it's a nice one, then maybe.
Those Astro Boy tops from Camden - they've spelt Dr. Tenma's name wrong! The most recent translations out write it as Tenma, not Temma. I'd feel silly.
Really pointy shoes - some of my toenails fell off a few years ago because of shoes with dodgy toe-space. It took something like 2 years for my big toenails to be normal again.

I know most of this is excuses, but it's why I don't wear the stuff. That, and I'd feel too much like a wannabe, which I don't want to be, as I don't even know what I'm supposed to be.

Call me what you like, but my name is Suzanne.

 
You know when you read a book and it reminds you of another? Maybe it's the plot, or the characters' attitudes, but you're able to notice a bit of a running theme? It was this kind of similarity that made me ask the question,

Do the fantasy/sci fi genres have it in for the letter M?

This is something I noticed a while ago when I was reading geek fic ten to the dozen: there seemed to be an awful lot of prejudice against the letter M. If it wasn't the place where the evil dwelled (eg. Mordor), it was the name of the baddies (eg. Mord wraiths).

Place names tended to get more stick than names though. As I've already mentioned, the seat of evil in Lord of the Rings is in Mordor, while the Belgariad gives the letter a double whammy with the muderous kings of both Cthol Murgos and Mallorea. I know the king of Mallorea stops his crucifying habits eventually, but he still crucified them!

Now that I'm talking about it, I'm having trouble thinking of examples, but I did notice it when I was in that phase. Might go back, it was quite fun. Geek is good. But did anyone else notice just how much The Wishsong of Shannara was a direct copy of Lord of the Rings? I had to stop reading it, I felt cheated! I thought Elfstones was pretty good though, it was much more enjoyable.

And while I'm rambling on about fantasy, someone read some Holly Lisle! The Secret Texts series is really good!

 
If I mentioned the words 'Von Dutch' to an American, I would get a reply involving spitting and distaste. It is so unbelievably unfashionable in the US that it's... unbelievable.

When Skinny came back from California, before I'd even noticed its existence, she scowled at a shop window displaying the latest imported clothes, ie Von Dutch. "Euck," she said, "I think I'll be sick if I see anymore bloody Von Dutch. If you get caught wearing it in the States, you may as well have leprosy."

Time went on, and I started to notice more and more trucker hats. You know, the ridiculously large ones with the mesh bits? There's a guy who gets on my bus with a flowery one, I pity his parents. And they were at ever-increasingly precarious angles. One gust of wind, and they'd've all been chasing their caps down the street.

Before Von Dutch's spores landed, stupid cap angles had only been associated with wannabes and emos. Proper emos I have no problem with, but it's when you start getting into the realm of wannabe emos that you need to fear. They are disturbed human beings.

So I sat back and watched, as I usually do, as Von Dutch grew in popularity. Ripped jeans, Converse All-Star trainers and blazers became more common as people slipped into this trap of American rejection fashion.

And the crown they all wore? The Von Dutch cap at a dodgy tilt.

I've told my fellow anti-fashionists about this, and they laughed at the gullibility of people. But what we all worried about, as self-confessed Jimmy Eat World fans, was that even an awful genre like emotional hardcore had been turned into a fashion.

It is quite satisfying, when people admire my dungarees and ask where I got them from, to which I tell them honestly,

"Oxfam, 99p."

Long live second-hand clothing.

 
Okay, I think I just made it let you do comments on everything I've ever written ever, so... you can put your hate mail stright on the site rather than filling up my inbox!

And if it looks as if I have no friends from lack of comments, I probably don't.

Ah well.

 
Hello my darling plumkins, I only have 10 minutes to write a note on here, so I'll get to the point as fast as I can.

I was discussing with someon today why she doesn't like several people who she's known for about a year. Don't get me wrong, she used to like them, but she says they've changed beyond her recognition.

So how much can a person change, as i really deep down? Their changes are mostly mouth and no trousers, but some of their values have changed as ell, and I think that's what's gnawing her; they aren't the people she made friends with a year ago.

Apparently I've changed - more confident, I swear more, I'm even more cynical than I used to be, and I've started treating everyone initially with the same amount of respect (I used to be a real lap dog when it came to adults, no idea why). I can tell why I've changed, and I hope most of these changes are for the better, but I'm not here to judge myself, that's what society is for. But some of my values have changed too: I'm more understanding of animal testing, and I've come to the conclusion that socialism would only work if we were all Karl Marx. But I still hold some things: being polite to strangers unless they're rude to me, trying hard in exams stuff like that. If they changed, I just wouldn't be me.

So have these people lost all contact with their original defining features? None of them are less confident now, and I don't think they've grown any more bitchy (that was what year 9 was for). But how much needs to change to know something is different?

I had a friend who, for no reason at all it seemed, started changing. At first it was little habits - he started fidgetting more, he became more confident, he got funnier, fearless and more of an outgoing person. Don't get me wrong, this took about 6 months. He wore different clothes, talked more, and slowly stopped being the guy we knew and became someone similar to, but sufficiently not, my mate. We had some arguments, fell out, and i found out later on that he'd started using drugs. But it was a slow change, barely noticeable at the time, but when I thought back, I could see him changing slowly. Small things, very slowly, but enough over time to make him different.

Bah.

 
I'm sorry my darlings, I've neglected you so. I've got about 5 posts half written that need improving and updating as some are news-related and now innaccurate.

So what for now? There's some serious shit going on right now, what with Iraq, Glasgow, all that. Glasgow is another matter that I don't know enough about to comment on, it so far seems to have been a tragic accident and official figures aren't out yet, so, another time.

But in the meantime, what drives one human being to torture another in the way that we're seeing daily in Iraq? And why weren't the American public more outraged when they first came out? It took a whole fortnight for them to make front-page news. What the fuck is going on? Ordered to kill and humiliate prisoners? Does Geneva mean nothing to them? They probably don't even realise it's a place in Switzerland.

And it isn't just the US, Britain is to blame as well. Mowing down civilians because they were in the way? Bloody hell, what's happening to us?

People were horrified by the stories and pictures that came out from the concentration camps after the war. Prisoners forced to strip and walk naked to the gas chambers, their hair used to stuff sofas and their skin to make lampshades. Tell me how these pictures of torture are any better.

There is no peace in war, it's an oxymoron. Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity (that's a quote, I wish I'd thought of it). How many more stories of torture are we going to hear from other war zones?

And will the presidential elections be fixed again this year?

 
I'm not really sure what it is that I'm writing about today, but I just need to vent something, and here is the place that it will offend the least people.

Publishing lies on the internet is a sad, petty thing to do. I avoid doing it at all costs as it is so very, very pathetic. I just hope that other people who see what's been written will know that it's a load of bollocks. I find it quite sad that she has to reaffirm to herself what a 'fabulous' life she has by trying to make mine miserable.

It isn't working.

I hope none of you partake in this childish pasttime. I'd like to think that I can have childish fun and still know when to act maturely. You don't see me making up lies and using people to my own ends, I just wish other people wouldn't either.

Grow up.

 
Hmm, haven't been here for a while... bah.

I went to a public speaking competition the other day, only watching, and one of the topics was about high art and low art and what defines each, and this got me thinking.

Yes, before you ask, it hurt.

I'll use books and music as an example, and possibly Grease too. What makes a song or a book good? Working in a bookshop, some people assume that I know the answer to the latter, but I ain't got a clue. A good plot? Likeable characters? Or for music, a catchy tune? Slamming bass?

God knows. I hear a lot of snobbery at work, not only with books and films, but most other art forms as well. Dance hasn't had much of a mention except when Caroline started tap dancing to keep warm, but that was about it. I was scared to take in any CD's for weeks in case I was told that they were rubbish. When I mentioned to someone that Vaugh Williams wouldn't be too bad, I was looked at in disgust. It's the same with books: before giving my opinion on a book I'd read, I always waited for the other person's opinion.

As of Saturday 24th January 2004 though, my faith in music has been restored, and I no longer feel worried to voice my opinions on something.

Which is handy.

We were at Music Tek for the metal fest, and five bands played. The first band, I thought, were so awful that I managed to forget their name (but they used to be in a band with some of the members of Inserenity, who, I think, have potential and an amusing bassist). Some people would have liked it, but not my thing. The second band, who I've seen several times before, were okay to listen to but for headbanging, they lacked bite. I could do housework while listening to them, which isn't a bad thing but I was disappointed as last time they were quite good. The third band, whose name I think is Gore, took a while to get started, and I was dubious at first, but then wham! bam! National Anthem of Goruguay! Fallen Down the Stairs Again! The Handwich! And, my favourite of all, Shattered to Pieces by Falling Faeces. Classic. And their lead guitarist had the best eyebrows since Ashley did a Patrick Moore impression. I liked, they fun. I even parted with my hard-earned cash to buy their CD.

Descent were lucky in that the crowd were bubbling when they got there. We rocked pretty hard, and then headbanged to some Gutworm, who rounded off the evening nicely. Then we went and sat down.

"That was shit."

Ah well. Considering this person hadn't really been up watching the bands, I thought they had no real right to say that. These are performance bands, you have to experience it when it's live, you can't have it as background music really. Cd's you can, but not when there's a sweaty group of beer-filled musicians thrashing about.

But do I have the right to say that? Well, yeah I do, but it's whether I'm right or not that's the issue. I thought some of them were quite good, some were really good and some were crap, but at least I bothered to get up and listen. That's what I was driving at! Don't judge things before you experience them!

Book snobbery comes from not reading other genres of books. I like some crime books, but I hate Kathy Reiches, who is supposed to be quite good. Well, in my opinion, no she isn't. But that's my opinion! I read one of her books to find that out, I didn't just go with the trend.

Westlife. I'll never forgive them for butchering 'More than Words', but I can see why people like them. The thought of them brings bile up in my throat, but Marylin Manson has the same effect on my Westlife-loving friends. People ridicule comics for having pictures, but have these people ever sat down and read 'Watchmen' by Allan Moore? I doubt it. And don't call it a graphic novel, that's just trying to compensate for their snobbery by giving them a poncy name.

My point is that judging things before you really know what you're talking about is blatant ignorance. Going on other people's opinions is weakness. I will defend 'Jack the Giant Killer' to the hilt if someone who hasn't seen it says it's crap. The fact that I only love it because I have a warped sense of humour is neither here nor there, but it's a matter of knowledge and experience. Experience something, and then you really know it. Find out as much about something as you can before passing verdict. Open mindedness in this self-centred world is a marvellous thing, you'd be amazed what you learn.

And as for Grease? Let's face it, the story's rubbish, but no school disco would be complete without everyone screeching 'Summer ni-iGHTS' out of tune at the end of that ultimate musical number.

 
They expect me to pay £1 on the buses as of January 4th, which makes me beg the question, what bus? This morning I waited 20 minutes for a bus supposed to come every 10, yesterday it was half an hour for one that comes every 15, and when you find yourself, as I did, waiting longer than 25 minutes for a bus supposed to come every 5, you begin to wonder what Ken Livingstone is on.

Not a bus, I assure you.

The buses are getting worse. Since the congestion charge was introduced, I've had even more difficulty getting from A to B. This £5 that poor drivers have to pay should be being spent on more buses. None that I've seen! I get a minimum of four buses a day five days a week, and two a day on the weekend, and I can honestly say that I've seen little improvement.

This may be related to our location with respect to London. Since leaving Essex in the 60's, we've been our own entity. After turning our backs on our mother-county, our foster-parent has been less than pleased with our presence. We pay council taxes, which go to housing in Hackney, who pay much lower rates as a result of our contribution.

Romford is truly the armpit of London.