Sunday, November 18, 2007

in honor of Alanis' upcoming album:

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

some of my favorite Alanis material:

"You from New York
you are so relevant
you reduce me to
cosmic tears.
Luminous more so
than most anyone,
unapologetically alive.."

"You'll rescue me, right? In the exact same way they never did?"

"Front Row"

do you go to the dungeon to find out how to make peace with your days in the dungeon writing a letter to you didn't make me feel any more peaceful then how I felt when we weren't speaking because I didn't cop to what I did. I can't love you because we're supposed to have professional boundaries. i'd like you to be schooled and in awe as though you were kissed by god full on the lips . i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up i'm too tired to recount the unpleasantries one by one one minute I want to banish you the next I want to be on a deserted island with you along with my three favorite cd's ambivalent yet in your bed we've yet to acknowledge what really happened slid into the ditch I have this overwhelming loss of ambition we said let's name thirty good reasons why we shouldn't be together I started by saying things like "you smoke" "you live in new jersey (too far)" you started saying things like "you belong to the world" all of which could have been easily refuted but the conversation was hypothetical I am totally short of breath for you why can't you shut your stuff off..... i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up and I laughed until my lungs hurt I love how you bust my chops you don't always feel seen sometimes you feel erasable unfortunately I cannot reciprocate in my current state I think we should be careful of how much time we spend together.....for a while i'm speaking you know how much you hate to be interrupted maybe spend some time alone to fill up your proverbial cup so that it doesn't always have to be about you i've been wanting your undivided attention I like the fact that you're nothing like me are you not burdened by the lack of perspective people have of your charmed life i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up you never meant to be ungrateful nor held up to be whipped or wept for certainly not analysed prodded at more ways than one apparently you've been misrepresented dealing with the concept of arrows being slung towards your outrageous fortune hey i'm not mad at you guardian i'm mad at myself for spending so much time with you and your jekyl and hydeness i'm glad i figuratively slapped you on the wrist you laughed a wicked laugh and said "come here let me clip your wings!"(i know he's blood but you can still turn him away you don't owe him anything) "raise the roof" he yelled "yeah raise the roof!" I yelled back. (unfortunately you needed a health scare to reprioritize.) no thanks to the soap box. having me rile against them won't make an ounce of difference...... i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn. I get to see you see you close up oh the things i've done for you many a sitch a friend a man's been left for you oh the books i've read for you the tongues i've bitten for you many a new city for you many a risk taken for you (not a single regret).

Her lyrics are pure honesty and genius, her voice is beauty, her music is real. I am so beyond excited about this new album... it's bordering on unhealthy :]

vivamus atque amemus,



Saturday, November 17, 2007

Isn't it curious...

how now that it's publicly viewable online, my sister no longer has any interest in reading my journal?


Also, I dislike Facebook. I'm not sure why people prefer it to Myspace.

These are my reasons to be happy today:

conditional offer for ABB from Royal Holloway
interview at Cambridge
amazing people in my life
beautiful guitar
No Doubt getting back together :O :D
and, most importantly,

It's almost Christmas!

Love and such to you all :)


Saturday, September 29, 2007

"going away to college"

..there are two things that I should establish before I start here.

Firstly, I’m not the sort of person that cries at the sorts of things that most people cry at, but as I write this I am “unabashedly bawling” my eyes out, as I have been for the last twenty minutes. And secondly, due to various defense mechanisms, I rarely get attached to people; since age seven I’ve been able to like people a lot but be fine about leaving without a trace.

Yet here I am, weeping like a child over someone who I’ve only known for a year.

It is not very often that you meet a truly good, honest, beautiful person, especially one who will put up with someone like me. But that’s exactly what Sandy is. When I first met him, I didn’t even think we’d be able to be civil to eachother considering how hugely we differ in views and beliefs. He’s now one of my favorite people in the world, and I’m not even sure how it happened. I realize that I probably sound slightly ridiculous.. posting this might not be smart haha.. but I’ve never had anyone in my life before who made everything seem ok just by being there, who you knew you could rely on any time, who could make you feel like you were worthwhile and loved even when you doubted you could love yourself, who was so perfect, but somehow never made you feel lower than him even really though you were. He walked into our group of friends, and he made everything glow with his warmth and light and love.

I hope that, however far apart we are, he will always be one of my closest friends. And I am going to miss having him there every day like I miss being young enough to fall asleep in the car at night without fear of a crash.

I love you sweetheart, speak soon!


p.s. HAVE FUN! ..but don't make any cool new friends =P

p.p.s. THQUIRREL!!! :{D

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

"Assess the view that justified true belief is not the same as knowledge."

The view that knowledge is ‘justified true belief’ is Plato’s Tripartite Theory of Knowledge. Having accepted that knowledge is more than just true belief, Plato goes on to realise that the condition which separates the two is justification. For example, if you have the belief that ‘the cat is on the mat’, and you are justified in this belief because you can see the cat on the mat, if it turns out that your belief is true; if factors from the external world correspond with your belief; then you have knowledge. The problem with this theory, as outlined by Gettier, is that there are exceptions to this rule. To have knowledge, you must have both the necessary & the sufficient conditions fulfilled; just as if you intended to make a pie, you would require the necessary conditions (your ingredients, oven, etc.) as well as the sufficient condition of actually having the pie in front of you, made & ready to enjoy. We can easily say that the conditions which Plato includes are individually necessary, but issues arise when we attempt to show that the conditions are jointly sufficient. Gettier recognised this flaw in Plato’s theory, & illustrated it in his ‘Is Justified, True Belief Knowledge?’ paper through examples in which all the conditions are fulfilled, but the person cannot be said to have true knowledge. ‘Gettier-Type Counter Examples’ show that the condition which causes trouble is the ‘justification’ condition. For example, say a university student comes in one day looking for a professor he desperately needs to talk to regarding some work. On walking towards the professor’s office, the student passes through the staff car park, and, on the knowledge that his professor drives a purple Porsche, sees such a vehicle parked in the professor’s spot and deduces from this that the professor is in, and his trip to visit her will not be in vain. Now, let’s say that the professor is in on the day in question, but she did not drive in with her car, she skated in. And it just so happens that some other fortunate owner of a purple Porsche drove in using their Porsche, and sneakily parked in our professor’s spot. The justification which the student used to gain the knowledge of the professor being in was in fact nothing to do with whether or not she was, there was no ‘causal connection’ between the two, so does the student have knowledge? According to Plato’s tripartite theory he does, but most people would disagree because the student’s justification was open to question. Although we must take into consideration that the Gettier counter examples rely heavily on coincidence, the issue which Gettier raises is very valid, and allows us to form a further, reviewed version of the tripartite theory. In this theory, the three conditions remain the same, but with the addition of a fourth condition, or ‘extra condition’, which includes an extra justification in order to authenticate the knowledge, for example a ‘causal connection’ condition, which states that there must be a relevant connection between the piece of potential knowledge and the justification. This type of ‘extra condition’ would be suitable in our Porsche example if, for instance, the student’s justification for his professor being in was that as he could see her working through her office window as he was walking towards the building. Having this extra condition, along with the other three conditions, would mean that the student has knowledge of the fact that his professor is in, however, without this last condition, he doesn’t, even though he has a justified, true belief. Therefore, it is clear that, although it is valid, and the revised version would have been impossible without it, Plato’s idea that justified, true belief is knowledge is not always reliable.

(just thought I'd let you in on some of my Philosophy things, seeing as it's such a substantial part of my life these days).

vivamus atque amemus! (my new motto =) look it up..)



Thursday, August 16, 2007

a.s. results...

I have but one thing to say...


oh, and this...



guess who got:

B in Latin

B in Theatre Studies

A (:O) in English Literature


wait for it...




Jesus, I don't think I've ever been so elated. Me and Shell both got A's in Philosophy; something we were told was virtually impossible.




Friday, July 20, 2007

two things..

in (rather schizophrenic) response, as t'were, to my last two blogs, there are a couple 'o things I would like to expline. (Yes, I did intend to write "expline", 'cause if you read it aloud you sound like Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Dolittle). Firstly, it has occured to me that I gave no explanation for Noah (haha) and probably should, as it looks rather out of place :P basically, by two biotches (Rell & Shosie) and I went on a prep. course for an English paper we might me taking next year, & after two days of talks etc. at this rainforest thingy nearby us we were asked to create some form of creative writing relating to said rainforest; Noah is the rather odd fairytale-esque result of my mind when set free to frolick in a humid atmosphere which made me look like some kind of wild bush woman as it does due to the lunacy of my hair. It was considerably amusing. You are permitted to laugh at my misfortune..

so there's your explanation for Noah (to an extent haha). Now for thing nombre two; on re-reading some of my writing, I have encountered the fact that I utilise some considerably superfluous sounding language which may appear superficially to point to some sort of arrogance or snobbery on my part which I must strongly refute, as there is most certainly no causal connection between the two. The reason I often write in a manner which even I will admit may justifiably be described as "like a knob" (quoting only my own paraniod psyche, by the by) is that I quite genuinely just like using words which sound interesting and fit better than others in the context.

Why do I so often find myself explaining & excusing myself for things that I haven't been critcised about? Ah, the various complexes within this complex mind. I'll figure myself out someday I'm sure haha..

have a loverly eventide! (tide being the operative word if you're anywhere near here!)



on fear

The world, I don’t need to remind you, can be a scary scary place. I mean really. And we all see it, every day; there’s the horror movie of knowing that there are people out there who want to hurt our country for their beliefs, there’s the pressure of the importance of our own capacities, there’s the often constant fear of losing the things we hold closest, the overwhelming, and consequently massively irresponsibly ignored, fear of our effect on the world we live in on a foundational level; the list is colossal. And from this it goes right down to the microcosm of sudden attacks of irrationally intense fear about what we should or shouldn’t wear, or how we look (although that could just be me). What I want to know is how something which (although it can work for good occasionally and in moderation) is largely a negative and damaging emotional influence on us has become so innate a part of human nature. It’s a torturous question to ask yourself because, nervous-laughably, the answer is a considerably frightening one. Now, I do often emphasize my own ignorance, & I will do so here also-any knowledge that I have is acquired from my puny sixteen years of experience (a period of time which has unfortunately not yet proven sufficient to rid me of the urge to put “and a half!” after my age, I might add. After all, I am nearly seventeen. Hahaha. Back to business..), and, although I reckon I’ve spent these first years observing and thinking with considerable fervor (I love that word), I can and will not be so arrogant as to hold any conclusions which I come to as some kind of high fact. They’re works in progress and so attack all you want; that’s what life is for to me at the moment-learning. There it is again! Now I’m covering my back out of fear that post-posting I will be caught unprepared for some kind of moral duel! And here lies my, as usual irritatingly long-time-coming, point. I think that perhaps our fear isn’t as irrational as we consider it to be on an intellectual or moral level; I think we are scared because in creating a society where even our celebrities, supposedly the people we admire and love most (after all we made them famous) are relentlessly criticized and attacked for their appearance among other things, and I’m talking world level problems here, we have built something scary. A society with a fear pandemic, born from some other disorder-so what creates fear? When I last visited my Grandma she gave me some books, one of which was Louise L. Hay’s “You Can Heal Your Life”, a work which explores the author’s belief that anything, including severe and otherwise allegedly incurable illnesses, can be solved by a change in thought patterns. In reading the book, I picked up on Hay’s evident suggestion that what really terrifies a human being is a lack of feelings of trust and love. This concept comes through in her diagnoses & “new thought patterns” and, although I remain unconvinced about her theory’s accuracy on a large scale, I can see the logic in the correlations she makes: if fear can, as I believe from experience it can, be placated by love and a feeling of safety, then it follows coherently that the cause of it must be the awareness of a lack of love and/or trustworthiness in a person’s emotional, political, social, work; life, environment. And here again lies the reason this is a difficult issue to take on-that is one scary answer, because it essentially points to the difficult to refute or swallow conclusion that our society hugely lacks in something as fundamental and, frankly, important, as love. So there you have it-my point at last-I think that we’re scared because we don’t make eachother feel safe in the way that we should and I believe (hope) used to. So, instead of worrying our frightened little souls about it, I would hope that if you take anything from this it is to consider a) trying to change the things that scare you about our society, and b) trying to help yourself and others to feel like this world is and can be a safe, loving place. Good god I’m a hippie.



Wednesday, July 18, 2007


It’s funny how things repeat themselves. Events cross over, re-occur, the same mistakes peer over horizons so often it’s surreal. But what most people don’t realize (mainly adults) is that the recurrence of similar events is far wider than just the same governments making the same mistakes and causing the same problems on Earth; heroes and coincidence thread through parallel worlds as well as different ages and tap on shoulders and whisper in ears and used to remind people how to think properly. Unfortunately, however, in general people have stopped listening now. You’ve probably heard a tale like this before, these issues probably sound familiar, but sometimes grown ups need to be tricked into realizing things. They’re a little slow like that. Maybe after you’ve heard Noah’s story, you’ll end up a different sort of grown up, the sort of grown up that listens.
There was a world not too far from our own once, just up a little and to the left. The people with the telescopes didn’t see it, because they look with their eyes closed, but it was there. This world, called Liberos, was spherical like ours & had a government. Just the one, for the entire place. It hadn’t always been that way, but at some point someone decided that it would be a good idea. This government was run by four men with beards called Man, Man, Man & Man. There were some specific laws, but most fell under the one “high law”- “obey the four”. Everyone followed it, although they weren’t really sure why.
One of the first of the “lower laws” which the four made when they came into power was that all things that were “wrong” would be destroyed. One of these things was the color green. I don’t really know why the color green was considered evil, but it was, and so every forest, every tree, every blade of grass, was wrenched from the loving hands of the ground & destroyed. Concrete replaced earth. The whole of Liberos was grey and hard, except for one, sacred grove at the very summit of the world, which the four had decided to spare as a reminder to the citizens of the lowly things they had helped the Liberosi to rise above. And (I suspect as was the four’s intention), with the emerald sea departed any mind sets desirous of a freer life, leaving a nation of either lobotomized blind followers or potential rebels oppressed into submission. Gradually the numbers of underground free thinkers shrunk, and most resolved to conform. But the saddest thing of all was that they lost something important; the aching feeling that they used to have when they thought about the green that used to surround them. That faded.
But what the four didn’t know was that the ache wasn’t so easily erased; the green wasn’t gone without a fight. It was furious! And quite rightly so. It was inevitable that soon enough citizens would be born with the ache, but they didn’t know that because their ears only hear people who think they are never wrong.
There was a boy of about seventy-five (nearly twelve in our years) who lived in north-west Liberos with his parents, Woman and Woman. His name was Noah, but that wasn’t particularly interesting. In fact, he was fairly ordinary in most ways, except for his eyes. Noah’s eyes were the color of the deepest, densest, most stunningly intense and alive green that he had never seen. He didn’t even know, because there were no mirrored surfaces permitted in Liberos, but that must have been it. There must have been something calling in those cavernous jewels which transferred itself into his soul, because when Noah heard that after the next Great Somnios (an annual ten day long worldwide sleep interlude in Liberos) the four were going to ceremoniously destroy the final forest, he was immensely negatively effected in an inexplicable manner.
Noah loved the final forest, secretly…he had seen photographs of it on posters around the city and, while everyone around him recoiled in disgust, he thought they were unbelievably beautiful. He had tried to tell Woman and Woman about how he was so happy that it had been kept, but they just misunderstood him, presumed he meant so that he could appreciate the “beautiful grey”, as it was called. Or at least he thought they did. He didn’t want the four to decimate the last precious breaths of emerald in his world, and it was all that he could do in the last few weeks before the great rest to try and think of a way to save the crowd of organic pillars from execution.
Whether it was the silent darkness, or the isolation, or whether that last day happened to mark, along with the culmination of his previous frantic contemplations, just the right time for the answer to appear to him, that first hour of the Somnios was when it happened. It suddenly occurred to him what the cause of it all was. He remembered what Woman had once taught him about how for everything that someone does there’s a reason, she called it an “incentive”. And that if you took away that reason, the thing wouldn’t happen any more. And during that first hour, Noah figured out what the four’s incentive was. It was the fluttering, glimmering, golden sleaze that clung to everything it came into contact with like grease. It was money.
It seemed like a wild thing to do; refreshing within the suffocation of his world. “Lunacy” they’d call it, but was it any madder, crazier than how they dealt with things? A consciousness with room to breathe. Sudden outlet. And so out he walked. He didn’t creep; there was no need-no one ever even considered the possibility of deviance by then. And it didn’t take as long as he had anticipated. I suppose when you’re so familiar with something, its so integral, you know where to find it. Good thing the four were so pedantic in meticulously arranging where it was to be kept-ha!-they even had gigantic mustard yellow signs marking them all off, inadvertently leading him on his pilgrimage to save his own existence, his last line of hope, line of battle, only choice. And once it was all gathered (in anything he could utilize as carrying implement), he harnessed one of his world’s natural powers, fire, to eliminate it all.

The flames victory danced around the pathetic papers, decades of suppression finally rightfully released, and within a matter of hours it was a page of the same puny weight in a history book. He felt safe within the elastic of the anarchy which held its breath for the next days. What would everyone do? What would the banks do? What would the four do? In the days that followed he was relinquished a choice-he could travel to the forest and watch the repercussions of his victory from afar, or he could return to his parents, his room, and life, and simply blend in and watch it all explode like fireworks right in front of his eyes – beautiful, shocking, correct. The money was gone; what would they do? His boat, he stayed to watch it sail.



Friday, June 22, 2007

American Idol

Right, so here’s something I really must have a bitch about ‘cause it genuinely drives me insane, & has lately been the cause of me ending up in a quiet fury following various ventures downstairs in innocent, clearly naïve, search of something to watch which is either interesting and beneficial to my life, or a trashy reality show which serves as light entertainment and a reminder that I should be grateful for my fairly well-functioning brain. But, instead, I return upstairs concerned not only about the lives of the people who create it’s popularity, but the repercussions it could have and is having on the already unwell music industry. “Well, what is this ‘it’?” I hear you say. “quit rambling and get the hell on with it!” you exclaim with exasperation. Ok, no need to raise your voice. The cause of my emotional upheaval is one of a few shows which, if I were a Christian, I would, I think, truly believe had come straight from the devil as part of a cruel but absolutely genius plot to poison society. The current culprit? American Idol.
It was a good idea. It’s undeniably difficult to get seen in the music industry. Hundreds of awesome, talented artists a year probably decide to go for something less risky or give up and take that office job after their last chance demo was to no avail, it was a good idea. So what happened? I suspect that, as with so many other things, the U.S. government for example, something which was potentially an immensely powerful force for good ended up in the wrong hands and was, therefore, turned into something which could dilute the patriotism of a senator. To get to the crux of why I have such an issue with the show, it would serve, I think, to inform you of my finely tuned methods for seeking out music which will influence my life in a positive way:-
-it is absolutely indisputable that the voice must be unique. Forgettable voices, voices that fit into a genre, & voices that you wouldn’t say ‘oh my god what is that voice doing on this cruise ship stage?’ to are not going to narrate inspirational lyrics.
-the artist has got to have a huge amount of character, and an interesting personality and life story.
-the lyrics are central; if I can’t hear/relate to/believe that there is integrity behind the lyrics, the music is pretty much invalid.
-as a direct result, genres such as screamo are more or less ruled out, along with cabaret-type clichéd lyrics (often identified by use of the word ‘babe’/’baby’).
-albums with sleeves that don’t say “all songs written by (artist’s name) except track five which is a phenomenally well done cover or written with someone the artist feels a very strong musical affinity with.” are immediately put back on shelf, occasionally accompanied by a small look of disappointment.
-the only artists not subject to the above rule are those which either not only fit point one but exceed it to the degree of ridiculousness (e.g. Barbra Streisand), or are so phenomenal at what they do in every other area that whether they can write or not is irrelevant (e.g. Madonna).

Now, considering that American Idol has been created to actually breed ‘artists’ who:-
-all have good, very (often actually to the point where they are barely distinguishable from eachother) forgettable voices.
-all have one of a pre-compiled list of I would guess four or five life-stories (ok guys, there’s “I’ve always sung, even as a kid, I would just sing!”, or “well my dad left home when I was five,”, or, everyone’s favorite “I spent my childhood going through my parents’ (insert decent artist you have no interest in) records”-what’s it gonna be?).
-all have zero writing or instrumental capability (the ones who do are quickly removed when the novelty of talent wears out).
-and, not forgetting the most crucial ingredient, all have an inexplicably very high opinion of themselves and no personality. (any with personalities are also promptly dealt with).
you can probably get why I don’t so much like the show. It upsets me-one, because I have to watch songs written my real musicians with passion and talent and personality become irreversibly tainted, along with the charts of the era which I will have to take responsibility for having grown up in at some stage, and two, because I genuinely feel sorry for the contestants. The poor unfortunate souls who win are then promptly chucked out into the charts to a fan base of grannies with no desire to actually buy records and teenagers with attention spans so tiny that they have already become disinterested with you by the time you’ve released your painfully cheesy and irritating debut single (complete with corny music video montage sensitively depicting the emotional roller-coaster of a time you spent on No-Longer-Proud-To-Be-American Idol, of course) and the harsh realization that their good, strong, unoriginal voices do not equate talent and will not provide them with a long standing, rewarding career in the big wide world outside the studio where the critics aren’t followed around by a sweet little woman with something nice to say to make you feel better. But America has bought it. Hook, line, & sinker my country falls season after season for the idea that this time some real talent is gonna be unearthed. And I can do little more that look on with disappointment and disapproval, much like one watches a close friend repeatedly go back to a violent relationship. Actually, no, it’s more like watching someone you no longer wish to be associated with set fire to ten dollars then run into a wall repeatedly before looking ever so slightly disillusioned, strolling off, then returning twenty minutes later with a vague smile and lobotomized look of interest to repeat the process. Please, America, just give up and let the idols find you. Please.



Saturday, June 02, 2007

coming soon...

don't go away! my a.s. exams finish on the eighth, which means...that's right-more incoherent ranting and unnecessary use of italics are on their way!

look out for upcoming posts on:

--> myspace
--> "American Idol"
--> homophobia vs. christianity
--> faith schools
--> philosophical arguments for the existence of God

and possibly much more!! stay tuned folks.



Friday, June 01, 2007

on Tony Blair's resignation.

May 10th 2007 (sorry, took me a while to post).

So Tony Blair resigned today. Resigned. I mean, he doesn't leave office until June 27th, but he's quit; ten years after a six year old me marched around my london house during elections chanting "to-ny-bleughr!", on the conviction from my conservative-voting father that he was "the bad guy", along with the added justification of my views that he was the head of some "party" (which confused me immensely-surely the running of the country is not to be intermeshed with such jovialities as parties?) whose color was red, and whose name was "Labour" (British spelling out of respect). Yeah, labour-you know, that thing women go into screaming and bleeding-blood-you know, the red stuff?...these links were sufficient logically in my six-year-old mind to confirm my father's claim, and so I was duly quite disappointed when he was elected prime minister.
I then took my place to sit back & ignore politics for the rest of my childhood-stepping back in only recently, at the revelation that, everywhere I looked, everyone seemed to hate the leader of their country. No society seemed to be capable of electing a suitable leader and sticking with them. Deeming this a pretty ridiculous situation, I decided to re-evaluate my own views. All I could see was that there was a war going on, for which the justification was disturbingly vague and disputed, and which the public were being, on the whole, disturbingly light-hearted about; it was on every comedy sketch around. Terrifying.
Yet, although I was witnessing all of this in Britain, I didn't have anything really against Blair; I mean, I didn't hate him. I knew how hard 9/11 had hit; to watch such a horrific thing happen in what I still consider to be my country on t.v. when I was ten years old was the most crushingly, unbearably terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. I was at boarding school at the time, and, without any trusted sources nearby to convince me otherwise, I walked around terrified and cried myself to sleep every night for over a month because I thought something that terrible happening meant the world was going to end. And, even within the sheltered environment I was in, I was pretty aware that the horror and outrage was public concensus. If we're being honest here (which we are-no lies in my blog, honey), whether or not the two were in fact linked, it looked it, and at a time when there was mass fear and paranoia, and such a huge threat sitting at our doorstep, the most dangerous thing that anyone, let alone the prime minister, could do, was to appear in any way un-patriotic or not as outraged as everyone else.

((NOTE: I am not saying that I ever thought of this war, or any war for that matter, as justified; I don't pretend to know anything about politics, but plain common sense and logic tells me that there must be a better way of dealing with a problem than just killing people. I mean, seriously-
"I want to do this."
"I disagree."
"Ok, well, how about we talk about it and try to sort something out?"
"Ah, screw it. We're not getting anywhere here, let's just send out a bunch of people to kill eachother-whoever kills the most wins?"
"Great idea! Let's go-race ya to the conscription ads!!"
Wow. And these are the smartest people we can find; the ones we've chosen to be in control of the world. That is impressive.))

So, yeah, from my uneducated-on-such-matters teenage point of view, he should have taken the risk, but I don't know if I would have. With the world-power equivalent of a mentally challenged eight year old kid running around holding a hand gun, in the form of the United States under the bush administration (which I refuse to capitalize), breathing down my back, I might have done the same. (although, that is one of the reasons why we do not elect sixteen year old world leaders, and why I do not currently intend on running for president).
The point is that we are all human, and we all make mistakes, given, some have much larger scale repercussions than others, but when a person tells me that "Hand on heart, I did what I thought was right.", that's a person I can forgive. I have a lot more to expend my energy on hating across the Atlantic, and besides, with Blair in power, I've felt undeniably, inexplicably safe.
And that's what struck me today when I watched what looked like a man (keep reading, I'm not suggesting he is in some way androgynous), who wasn't allowed to explicitly admit he'd done anything wrong, trying to apologise; despite his funny ears, despite his decision to back faith schools' veto to section 28, despite raising his children into a religion, despite all of his mistakes, I can't deny that I felt a loss.
A loss, I guess, of the sense of security that comes from having had a leader for so long that he crops up in one of your earliest memories, and an unexpectedly tangiable fear of the unknown, made even more dangerously real by the constant, stark reminder just an eight hour flight away of what can happen when the wrong person ends up in power.



post scriptum

"you don't have to be a pilot to fly in the R.A.F." oh god, you don't? Christ, who's flying the planes then??!! hahaha, I know I just said that the situation should not be used as comic fodder, but what a perfect illustration of the stupidity of it all.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

on the whole "johazelwoods" thing

just thought, seeing as I often get asked about it, I'd give an official explanation for the "johazelwoods" thing. When I started out doing internet-y things it became clear that using my real name would be a bad idea a) because of it's ridiculous length, and b) because I don't really want to be stalked and/or killed. So basically it's my internet name, hence has no relation to my actual name (except the jo part, that's the real deal haha), 'but then why', you may ask, 'hazelwoods'? Well, my inquisitive friend, a few years ago, actually quite a few years ago, I found a reference in a book to a poem by W.B. Yeats called "The Song Of The Wandering Aengus" which looked interesting. So I looked it up and, as I had suspected I would, given the context I found it in, I adored it. 'You still haven't explained yourself, moron', I hear you say with mild aggravation. Well, keep your facial features pretty, I'm getting there. The first line of the poem is "I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head," and it grew from there. Oh, and the more exceptional of you may have also come to witness me referred to as "g.i.johazelwoods", which is basically the original with the addition of g.i. (as in g.i.joe). This appeared in my head after I saw G.I. Jane & placed it teary-eyed right into my top ten films list. Awesome movie. So there you have it; the story of the birth and early childhood of johazelwoods and her older, queerer, cousin g.i.johazelwoods.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

"life's a bitch."?

"life's difficult whichever way you look at it.", "life's a bitch & then you die.", et cetera, et cetera. People are always saying stuff like that, & I really hate it. What kind of perspective on life are you giving your child by telling them that "life's not fair." every time something goes wrong? Do you want your children to grow up cold and pessimistic (like you have, you despondent old loser)? I doubt it. Realistic, maybe; prepared for any turbulence headed their way, sure. But they will become neither of these things by growing up with the idea firmly planted in their head that life sucks. Life might suck for you, but that's your problem not your kid's-they might just manage to have an awesome life & fulfil all of their dreams despite your cynical parenting so give them a damn fighting chance at least! I'm side-tracking, but my point is that life is not a bitch-not even close, if you live it right. Life is an eighty or thirty or ten year course-& like any course, really, it is what you make it. If you walk into the class at the start of each lesson thinking oh god not this again, you'll never learn anything & probably never enjoy anything either. If you walk in thinking hey this could be pretty interesting, well, you get the idea. So, yeah, bad things do happen, & I know full well that we don't get to choose every lesson that we have to sit through, but if we can find it in ourselves to look for the good & learn from the bad, we can get to the point where we can drop the subjects we don't like & focus on what we want to do. It just takes a little (ok sometimes a lot) perserverence & faith in yourself.



post scriptum

"What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing."
Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

In the place of a quote, I suggest you go here , and listen to "Steer" as it is an awesome song which fits perfectly and she is just an awesome artist =]