I have been determined for some time now, around about 4 weeks as it goes, to make a conscious effort to do better in my studying this year. To actually achieve that 2:1 or first that i know i could probably do if my brain wasn't slightly impaired by laziness. So far, i have used spell check twice on that paragraph only emphasizing my ineptitude at spelling....and i used to be quite good before 'student-syndrome' set in.
Anyway, i must say that i have failed in my quest to be a good student and make myself proud. The early starts at eleven in the morning require much preparation, and don't even bothering mentioning about the nine o' clock starts. Thats laughable. The preparation resembles nothing less than S.A.S precision which includes setting the alarm and actually calculating the time needed to keep allowing me to hit the alarm button to snooze and making sure i'm still not late. Then there's the realization that if i don't get up now, i will indeed be letting not just myself and future career/life/existence down, but my parents, grandparents, and possible guinea pigs, because every other 'adult' has been up well before the appointed early time of ten o' clock.
Next comes the immediate scramble to the end of the bed to stand for ten minutes staring at the heap of clothes strewn across the floor, all the while scratching your head and not understanding what your doing up or how you got there in the first place. Just before the quick dash to the front door to catch the bus (your way too tired to walk to uni and would hate to be too exhausted to concentrate for your lecture,) you manage to throw clothes at yourself and look like a slightly nicer smelling hobo.
Ipod blaring leads to the inevitable odd stares on the bus from the old folks who look at you in disgust. Apparantly in the war no one was a lazy bleeder and a quick mad dash in the appropriate footwear (flipflops) for the onslaught of rain thats decided to attack you, minus the umbrella.
You make it just in time to the lecture to be fifteen minutes late because you nearly broke your fucking neck on the way up, got stuck behind some stupid old person and then you wanted a fag anyway.
Catch up on sleep in the lecture because at the end of the day, who needs facts about business skills, and then its off to lunch.
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
Sunday, 30 September 2007
Our Time Has Come.
For all the constant winging and moaning that i myself have endured and projected unto others, this summer has really taught me a lot. Not an epiphany as such just a sudden cloud has decided to move on, which i am more than appreciative of.
Firstly i have met some amazing new like-minded people. The ones that are just not interested in mindless backstabbing and antagonizing.
But the thing that really has opened my eyes is my course in Human Rights. Im not interested in making political statements on Trafalger Square in an attempt to get our deaf government to turn up their hearing aid. Im more interested in Genocide and the concept behind it. I opted to study the Holocaust in my first semester of my second year and already a week in im loving it.
As a result and trying to portray myself as an avid student, i visited the Imperial War Museum yesterday to visit the Holocaust exhibition. It was increadible. So tactile and informative. Everywhere you looked there was cases to view, videos to watch and models to look at. It was heart-wrenching and i defy anyone to come out of their without feeling a little sad but more educated.
The cases full of shoes collected from Auschwitz camp of the prisoners is scary and the video showing real mentally ill people/skeletons being loaded into a gas chamber is disgusting. But in a good way. It means you cant dissasociate yourself from such a terrible atrocity that happened.
People today think its ok to not know the facts. The facts like, Hitler wasnt the true mastermind ego maniac behind it all. It was actually those below him like Himmler who oversaw everything. He was the real homicidal maniac. Or Eichmann, the guy who implemented and constructed the Final Solution. Mengele (The Angel of Auschwitz) who experimented on everyone in the camps in the hope of constructing a true Aryan race and weeding out genetic faults.
Someone who lived through it once said that to even write and read about the Holocaust is a crime itself as it defiles the true nature of what happened. That is becomes a freak show and something to be gauped at. In respect, i say bollocks to that.
I think it is our duty as humans to learn and understand it. To read every side of the atrocity, from Mein Kamph to the Nazi Hunter, to books on the SS and first hand accounts from liberated camp suvivors.
I am infuriated by the idea that the government wants to take the manditory study of the Holocaust off the school education system and i find it a disgusting concept. Dont stick kids infront of Schindlers list for 2 hours. Sit them down and show kids of about 12-13 upwards what we as humans are fucking capable of. Make them realise that it is not an acceptable thing to do and just because it happened 60 odd years ago, does not mean we can distance ourselevs from it and claim that we no longer have to think about it. Thats a quick path to it happening again on a bigger scale!!!!
If you see this exhibition, you will be thinking of it for days and you will soon put everything in your life thats easy to be caught up in, into perspective.
REALITY IS OUR PERCEPTION.
Firstly i have met some amazing new like-minded people. The ones that are just not interested in mindless backstabbing and antagonizing.
But the thing that really has opened my eyes is my course in Human Rights. Im not interested in making political statements on Trafalger Square in an attempt to get our deaf government to turn up their hearing aid. Im more interested in Genocide and the concept behind it. I opted to study the Holocaust in my first semester of my second year and already a week in im loving it.
As a result and trying to portray myself as an avid student, i visited the Imperial War Museum yesterday to visit the Holocaust exhibition. It was increadible. So tactile and informative. Everywhere you looked there was cases to view, videos to watch and models to look at. It was heart-wrenching and i defy anyone to come out of their without feeling a little sad but more educated.
The cases full of shoes collected from Auschwitz camp of the prisoners is scary and the video showing real mentally ill people/skeletons being loaded into a gas chamber is disgusting. But in a good way. It means you cant dissasociate yourself from such a terrible atrocity that happened.
People today think its ok to not know the facts. The facts like, Hitler wasnt the true mastermind ego maniac behind it all. It was actually those below him like Himmler who oversaw everything. He was the real homicidal maniac. Or Eichmann, the guy who implemented and constructed the Final Solution. Mengele (The Angel of Auschwitz) who experimented on everyone in the camps in the hope of constructing a true Aryan race and weeding out genetic faults.
Someone who lived through it once said that to even write and read about the Holocaust is a crime itself as it defiles the true nature of what happened. That is becomes a freak show and something to be gauped at. In respect, i say bollocks to that.
I think it is our duty as humans to learn and understand it. To read every side of the atrocity, from Mein Kamph to the Nazi Hunter, to books on the SS and first hand accounts from liberated camp suvivors.
I am infuriated by the idea that the government wants to take the manditory study of the Holocaust off the school education system and i find it a disgusting concept. Dont stick kids infront of Schindlers list for 2 hours. Sit them down and show kids of about 12-13 upwards what we as humans are fucking capable of. Make them realise that it is not an acceptable thing to do and just because it happened 60 odd years ago, does not mean we can distance ourselevs from it and claim that we no longer have to think about it. Thats a quick path to it happening again on a bigger scale!!!!
If you see this exhibition, you will be thinking of it for days and you will soon put everything in your life thats easy to be caught up in, into perspective.
REALITY IS OUR PERCEPTION.
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
Prisoner Zero 8.
I am writing this blog for my Nephew Oliver a day after he was born.
He was born into a world of undecided torment. A world where state powers are corrupt and citizens turn a blind eye. Where humans as masses are selfish and moronic and where individuals voices are quiet. We are at the top of the food chain and technologically advanced, but still intent on destroying our world. We take and dont replenish. War has become sterile and we kill millions at the touch of a button. We are disasociating ourselves and send brave people to fufill the wishes of greedy politicians. We are consumer driven and manipulated by the Media. We support mindless idiots and find their un-educated thoughts endearing, and encourage our children to admire them. But not because of their brains and contribution to society, purely for their money, glamour and good looks. We are dominated by brain dead programmes on the tv and will happily sit through repeats of 20 year old sitcoms because we dont have to think. Our societies across the glove are angry at everything and everyone and we are lied to constantly. We are too sensitive and we deal with this by labelling it policical correctness. What in fact that is doing is merely sensoring what we can and cant say to allegedly create a 'peaceful atmosphere.' This is great in theory, but it has been taken to the extreme. Our justice system allows rapists and murderers to be set free within a year, drink drivers to only be cautioned and someone who beats an old lady up for a fiver may only get community service. People dont read anymore, preferring to wait for the film to come out and only Hollywood blockbusters are given financial backing, which often involves bad acting and no plot. We have starving people and millions are murdered in horrendous ways and we do nothing. Preferring to turn a blind eye as its not happening on our doorstep. But when we do make a stand, no one with any power listens to us, even in a democracy like ours. Those that want to travel are made to feel guilty because the latest fad is carbon foot prints. But we are told this by the same people (our prime minister) who will fly from London to Manchester instead of taking the train. We are told to support fair trade and use organic products because they are better for you but the prices are so high, and every day we are bombarded with reports of the latest cancer or contagin that is used as a scaremongering tactic. We do atrocious things to each other and then sweep it under the carpet and forget. Those that want to be educated more than the state forces you to be are pressured because it is so expensive. We have people living off the state systems who choose to so they dont have to work because they are lazy, but people like my mum who have worked 25 years for the same company and then was made redundant, cant get a job and cant afford a thing.
We as individuals are selfish egomaniacs who always think our lives are worse than others and all the while we are being terrified into believing that there is an unknown threat lurking outside waiting to kill us.
Your birth date was made sad 6 years ago because extremists decided to attack the west and kill over 3,000 innocent people and yet their government flew the highjackers families out of the country hours afterwards instead of holding them.
But the good out weighs the bad. It may not be enough to fill the same amount of lines, but the quality is better.
We care and we stand up sometimes for whats right, which in turn gives a shimmer of faith that we are good. We have the ability to stand on two legs, read and write and design amazing things. I can see photos of you from only a few hours old over the internet. Mobile phones are so small and you can watch television with them. I can keep in contact with people i have not seen for years through email which is instant, instead of letters. We draw and write beautiful things and are accessable to anyone. We can travel freely to anywhere in the world and everything is now cheap. We can have our say without being persacuted and i can talk to whoever i want. I can choose to have a good job and rival the men or i can stay at home and raise a family. I can see my favourite band and i can drink with my friends. I can read the books i want without it being censored (to the best of my knowledge anyway) and not be judged. I can take control of my sexuality and be my own person. I can buy amazing clothes and have colour and variety in ways people never had before. I can change my opinions and career with not much difficulty.
The world you are born into is awful at times, but it is far greater. I know that your parents have wanted you for a long time and now you are finally here. I have only seen photos of you and probably wont get to hold you for a long time, but i am proud to be an auntie and i will be the coolest one there is!
x
He was born into a world of undecided torment. A world where state powers are corrupt and citizens turn a blind eye. Where humans as masses are selfish and moronic and where individuals voices are quiet. We are at the top of the food chain and technologically advanced, but still intent on destroying our world. We take and dont replenish. War has become sterile and we kill millions at the touch of a button. We are disasociating ourselves and send brave people to fufill the wishes of greedy politicians. We are consumer driven and manipulated by the Media. We support mindless idiots and find their un-educated thoughts endearing, and encourage our children to admire them. But not because of their brains and contribution to society, purely for their money, glamour and good looks. We are dominated by brain dead programmes on the tv and will happily sit through repeats of 20 year old sitcoms because we dont have to think. Our societies across the glove are angry at everything and everyone and we are lied to constantly. We are too sensitive and we deal with this by labelling it policical correctness. What in fact that is doing is merely sensoring what we can and cant say to allegedly create a 'peaceful atmosphere.' This is great in theory, but it has been taken to the extreme. Our justice system allows rapists and murderers to be set free within a year, drink drivers to only be cautioned and someone who beats an old lady up for a fiver may only get community service. People dont read anymore, preferring to wait for the film to come out and only Hollywood blockbusters are given financial backing, which often involves bad acting and no plot. We have starving people and millions are murdered in horrendous ways and we do nothing. Preferring to turn a blind eye as its not happening on our doorstep. But when we do make a stand, no one with any power listens to us, even in a democracy like ours. Those that want to travel are made to feel guilty because the latest fad is carbon foot prints. But we are told this by the same people (our prime minister) who will fly from London to Manchester instead of taking the train. We are told to support fair trade and use organic products because they are better for you but the prices are so high, and every day we are bombarded with reports of the latest cancer or contagin that is used as a scaremongering tactic. We do atrocious things to each other and then sweep it under the carpet and forget. Those that want to be educated more than the state forces you to be are pressured because it is so expensive. We have people living off the state systems who choose to so they dont have to work because they are lazy, but people like my mum who have worked 25 years for the same company and then was made redundant, cant get a job and cant afford a thing.
We as individuals are selfish egomaniacs who always think our lives are worse than others and all the while we are being terrified into believing that there is an unknown threat lurking outside waiting to kill us.
Your birth date was made sad 6 years ago because extremists decided to attack the west and kill over 3,000 innocent people and yet their government flew the highjackers families out of the country hours afterwards instead of holding them.
But the good out weighs the bad. It may not be enough to fill the same amount of lines, but the quality is better.
We care and we stand up sometimes for whats right, which in turn gives a shimmer of faith that we are good. We have the ability to stand on two legs, read and write and design amazing things. I can see photos of you from only a few hours old over the internet. Mobile phones are so small and you can watch television with them. I can keep in contact with people i have not seen for years through email which is instant, instead of letters. We draw and write beautiful things and are accessable to anyone. We can travel freely to anywhere in the world and everything is now cheap. We can have our say without being persacuted and i can talk to whoever i want. I can choose to have a good job and rival the men or i can stay at home and raise a family. I can see my favourite band and i can drink with my friends. I can read the books i want without it being censored (to the best of my knowledge anyway) and not be judged. I can take control of my sexuality and be my own person. I can buy amazing clothes and have colour and variety in ways people never had before. I can change my opinions and career with not much difficulty.
The world you are born into is awful at times, but it is far greater. I know that your parents have wanted you for a long time and now you are finally here. I have only seen photos of you and probably wont get to hold you for a long time, but i am proud to be an auntie and i will be the coolest one there is!
x
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Lights of Amber.
He's here. He's finally arrived and i know no one reads these, but i dont care. Im an auntie!
Its finally happend.
I never thought id be excited, but 8 pound something Oliver James Elliott has arrived.
Im too excited to sleep now and all i want to do is see him. Damn my brother for living so far away!
Today is a good day!!!!!!!!
zzz.....x
Its finally happend.
I never thought id be excited, but 8 pound something Oliver James Elliott has arrived.
Im too excited to sleep now and all i want to do is see him. Damn my brother for living so far away!
Today is a good day!!!!!!!!
zzz.....x
Lights Out.
So i'm sitting here in my pyjamas when i should be getting ready to meet my friend. Damn internet, enticing me in and sucking out my soul. As I hit refresh multiple times on the facebook with boredom and listening to Daft Punk, the only thing drifting in my mind is....FRIDAY NIGHT BABY!!!
Thats right, after four months of living in what I enjoy calling 'The Black Hole of Kent,' I'm leaving to go back to Kingston for Uni. Am I sad? Fuck no. Well, yes I am sad in the respect I wont get to see my new found friends as much, but Ashford really is the armpit of society.
It's a general fact that every kid hates their hometown for one reason or another but Ashford truely is Purgatory. Nothing happens, nothing evolves and I find people are still stuck in their monotonous gloom and continue to moan.
People (and not my friends...of course,) are boring and unsociable. They wander aimlessly through the high street like labotomised chimps with a mentality slightly rivalling a newly formed zombie. Buggies everywhere pushed by twelve year old girls, ugly (and i do mean ugly) blokes pissed up wanting a fight. But the main thing I have found is that no one cares, about anything!
After two years at Uni I thought I would have progressed past social bitchiness and neurotic behaviour but I find myself getting sucked back in. The pub is still the same. The pub I do love for bad or worse (yes we are married, last year in fact. Small affair.) I have been in love with that place for about 6 years and I would say it's getting serious. The only difference is that the customers are resembling nothing short of sperm and eggs. God I feel old even if I do myself only look 17.
Time for me to hoist up the main sails and bring the anchor in and set sail back to good ol' London I think before I become a mess again.
BUT....the point being (if I have one,) is that this Friday, I am saying goodbye and leaving for a short while.
I am meeting the girls in Utopia for pre-drinks and to actually have a non-testosterone filled couple of hours with them. There will be drinks and plenty of them. There will be delicious legs and boobs when everyone turns out in their finest silverware and general merriment. i think that will probably the boys though.
Then once we have drunk enough to put a small elephant out for the count, we will be strolling to the regular haunt to sit outside, smoking and drinking more with the boys.
I'm excited to get everyone together for merriment because it is a bit of a rare occasion. But more than anything, I get to spend non hard earned cash on a fucking good time and then I get to leave to do it every day at Uni for the next 3 months.
If my head isnt hurting on Sat then I didnt do it right.
Through all my pissing and moaning, my life is fucking great!
x
Thats right, after four months of living in what I enjoy calling 'The Black Hole of Kent,' I'm leaving to go back to Kingston for Uni. Am I sad? Fuck no. Well, yes I am sad in the respect I wont get to see my new found friends as much, but Ashford really is the armpit of society.
It's a general fact that every kid hates their hometown for one reason or another but Ashford truely is Purgatory. Nothing happens, nothing evolves and I find people are still stuck in their monotonous gloom and continue to moan.
People (and not my friends...of course,) are boring and unsociable. They wander aimlessly through the high street like labotomised chimps with a mentality slightly rivalling a newly formed zombie. Buggies everywhere pushed by twelve year old girls, ugly (and i do mean ugly) blokes pissed up wanting a fight. But the main thing I have found is that no one cares, about anything!
After two years at Uni I thought I would have progressed past social bitchiness and neurotic behaviour but I find myself getting sucked back in. The pub is still the same. The pub I do love for bad or worse (yes we are married, last year in fact. Small affair.) I have been in love with that place for about 6 years and I would say it's getting serious. The only difference is that the customers are resembling nothing short of sperm and eggs. God I feel old even if I do myself only look 17.
Time for me to hoist up the main sails and bring the anchor in and set sail back to good ol' London I think before I become a mess again.
BUT....the point being (if I have one,) is that this Friday, I am saying goodbye and leaving for a short while.
I am meeting the girls in Utopia for pre-drinks and to actually have a non-testosterone filled couple of hours with them. There will be drinks and plenty of them. There will be delicious legs and boobs when everyone turns out in their finest silverware and general merriment. i think that will probably the boys though.
Then once we have drunk enough to put a small elephant out for the count, we will be strolling to the regular haunt to sit outside, smoking and drinking more with the boys.
I'm excited to get everyone together for merriment because it is a bit of a rare occasion. But more than anything, I get to spend non hard earned cash on a fucking good time and then I get to leave to do it every day at Uni for the next 3 months.
If my head isnt hurting on Sat then I didnt do it right.
Through all my pissing and moaning, my life is fucking great!
x
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Ruby slippers.
I am Captain Brody Blackadder and when you read this, my life will be at an end. I have lived too many years for my body to cope with anymore, and i have seen too many things for my mind to want much else.
I will not recall my early years, for no one wants to spend precious time reading about the boring in's and out's of how i went to school and what i had for dinner.
I have sailed many oceans, docked at many ports, had many bar fights over little and everything (whatever i deemed fit.) I have had my fair share of men, and more rum than was probably necessary. I have sworn consistantly through my life and is the language i use more than any other. I have shouted, cried, laughed till i was sick and stood my ground with the best of them.
I have been called whore by those who did know me and made their lives feel complete by judging. I have been called innocent by those that do not know me. I have killed and broken hearts. I have used people, cared for my few friends who wished to die in my company. I have been tattooed and robbed in the night while stumbling back in a stupor and i have stolen from those more fortunate than me. I have punched those that dare insult my intelligence and i have been outwitted by those more educated than me.
I have been in love once. He was my friend and lover and i adored him more than anything in the world. Only two years older than me we were never married but when i looked in his eyes i knew i was enough. He was and still is the only one for me. But as i found out it was not reciprocated. When i was 20 years old he ran off with a port girl who i deemed less worthy than me. She was simple and understated. A proper girl who did as she was expected by family and society. She was accepted by everyone to be a lady and i would never be that. I on the other hand am chaos. I have never had an easy life and would not want it any other way. This is me and the people involved have either ridden the waves or been tossed aside in the swell.
I am no longer the same person physically and before i was feared and admired for my outward ways. My later years have seen me stranded in paradise writing and pondering, occasionally dodging the odd missionary who wishes to hear my sins and thinks that they can forgive me before God's eyes. I say its too late for that. I also have to contend with the odd navel men who wish to find out my real identity but never will.
I have sailed to the ends of the earth with nothing but guesswork and an unsavory crew. We wore the black flag high and proud in the winds and found treasure on islands. X i found really does mark the spot.
I will not recall my early years, for no one wants to spend precious time reading about the boring in's and out's of how i went to school and what i had for dinner.
I have sailed many oceans, docked at many ports, had many bar fights over little and everything (whatever i deemed fit.) I have had my fair share of men, and more rum than was probably necessary. I have sworn consistantly through my life and is the language i use more than any other. I have shouted, cried, laughed till i was sick and stood my ground with the best of them.
I have been called whore by those who did know me and made their lives feel complete by judging. I have been called innocent by those that do not know me. I have killed and broken hearts. I have used people, cared for my few friends who wished to die in my company. I have been tattooed and robbed in the night while stumbling back in a stupor and i have stolen from those more fortunate than me. I have punched those that dare insult my intelligence and i have been outwitted by those more educated than me.
I have been in love once. He was my friend and lover and i adored him more than anything in the world. Only two years older than me we were never married but when i looked in his eyes i knew i was enough. He was and still is the only one for me. But as i found out it was not reciprocated. When i was 20 years old he ran off with a port girl who i deemed less worthy than me. She was simple and understated. A proper girl who did as she was expected by family and society. She was accepted by everyone to be a lady and i would never be that. I on the other hand am chaos. I have never had an easy life and would not want it any other way. This is me and the people involved have either ridden the waves or been tossed aside in the swell.
I am no longer the same person physically and before i was feared and admired for my outward ways. My later years have seen me stranded in paradise writing and pondering, occasionally dodging the odd missionary who wishes to hear my sins and thinks that they can forgive me before God's eyes. I say its too late for that. I also have to contend with the odd navel men who wish to find out my real identity but never will.
I have sailed to the ends of the earth with nothing but guesswork and an unsavory crew. We wore the black flag high and proud in the winds and found treasure on islands. X i found really does mark the spot.
My Own Self.
I cannot get enough of Daft Punk at the moment. Harder,Better,Faster,Stronger is the best song and i am listening to it so much at the moment that my heart missed a beat and i am seeking medical help. Apparantly the condition is rare in small
mammals like myself but has been known to occur when you see the videos from the O2 Wireless festival this year on Youtube.
I am a taste sensation and those that dont appreciate what this blog is saying are just mearly plain crisps.
mammals like myself but has been known to occur when you see the videos from the O2 Wireless festival this year on Youtube.
I am a taste sensation and those that dont appreciate what this blog is saying are just mearly plain crisps.
Thursday, 30 August 2007
Linear.
With fury in my heart and a murderous rage in my veins,
I will find you.
Shock and despair (i know you are out there,)
Send me a letter written in your blood.
Float it in a bottle in the sea and i will die for it.
I should have loved you and i know i said so,
But my lies confused my head and i shall be Judus no more.
Can you hear that rythem in flow (with what i know?)
My love, you are blind and i was dying.
The beating wings are a hurricane i have seen,
I will pray for your safe return, but i wont be here anymore.
Trapped i escaped free (and now i am blinded but can see,)
A vengeful fate will always haunt you.
I will find you.
Shock and despair (i know you are out there,)
Send me a letter written in your blood.
Float it in a bottle in the sea and i will die for it.
I should have loved you and i know i said so,
But my lies confused my head and i shall be Judus no more.
Can you hear that rythem in flow (with what i know?)
My love, you are blind and i was dying.
The beating wings are a hurricane i have seen,
I will pray for your safe return, but i wont be here anymore.
Trapped i escaped free (and now i am blinded but can see,)
A vengeful fate will always haunt you.
Babys Got A Gun.
In light of reading one of my friends blogs, being partly stoned and watching mindless pap on tv, i have decided to write about 'moronic' adverts that are plaguing my viewing time.
Moonpig - The advert for personalised cards. What the fuck!! Who calls a card company 'moonpig' anyway? What reference does that have to birthday cards! The really annoying thing about it. The thing that whenever i hear it, makes me want to sharpen my axe and grab my 'boom stick' is the fucking theme tune. Written by deaf monkeys, for lobotomised chimps.
Halifax - If it wasnt bad enough that banks steal all our money and shaft us more times than a dutch prostitute, they decided the only way to entice more customers not to read the small print, is to have some balding twat that resembles an egg doing cover songs of shite tunes while dancing around like a berk. The only thing that could make it worse is if i came home one day to find a fat bird singing an aretha franklin song in the street, (MY bloody street as well!) Oh and for the tv channels to put the adverts on, every 5 fucking minutes.
L'oriel - No love, you are NOT FUCKING WORTH IT! Doesnt help Penelope Cruz looks like Seabiscuit, a la Family Guy Style.
Jamie Oliver in EVERY advert (and i do mean, every.) Has me grab for the nearest knife rack every time.
Polaris World - The advert for Spanish property. Is it just me, or is that guy really really creepy? Only 80 grand for a two bedroom shack? Really? Hang on, il get my cheque book.
Fairy Liquid adverts with Ainsley Harriot - Twat!
Land of Leather - Where chavs go to buy their three piece suite. Thats actually a bit hasty, its not the product im disgusted with, its the general feeling of the advert. I need a bucket to watch it in all honesty. Its so p.c (token black guy, single young professional, families.) To make matters worse, they show happy, smiley families bouncing around together. You know the type, perfect mum, dad and 85 healthy non deformed children. C'mon, life isnt like that. I want to see the 'new and improved' advert where you see Dad sucker punch the children for being in a half mile radius with sticky hands and muddy feet.
Mc.Donalds - Still they try to make a cow's lips, eyelids and hooves squished together in a patty, look delicious. Mmmmm, now with one shred of 2 day old, browning lettuce and half a bottle of mayonnaise....mmmm. The healthy range? Erm...excuse me, but who do you think your kidding? I wasnt born yesterday sonny jim boy oh. Just because you got sued by a clued up, money grabbing american fatty doesnt mean we are now going to believe your absolving and repenting of your heart attack sins. P.S That fucking Justin Timberlake song...there is only a certain amount of times before i become brainwashed into killing every time i hear that song. Either that, or cluck like a demented chicken.
Car Insurence companies - Non specific/generic ones will do. Im not fussy about which one we point the finger at as their all just as bad. 'Searching for cheaper car insurence?' 'No, fuck off, i like paying over the odds.' Its not enough they are repeated more times than ive had hot meals but they treat you like complete idiots. More so than most adverts/time wasters. Insisting on 'jazzing' it up with stick figures pulling out their hair and middle aged men that in all honesty should get a real job, dressed in an oversized elephant suit. 'Sheela's wheels????!!!' If i was going to renew my car insurence i wouldnt do it with some ditzy ozzy blondes driving a tasteful pink car, singing a song while not watching the road.....which leads me to.....
Accident Claims - Sorry, you fell off a one legged ladder while balancing on a greenhouse and wondered why you broke through, landed in your missus conservatory and cut your thumb? The advert is filled with stupid idiots that shouldnt be paid for idiotic mistakes. Things like 'Well i was driving at 90 miles an hour down a 20 mile an hour, pedestrianised (speed humped) walk way, outside the pop-in centre and suddenly this old woman came out of nowhere and bounced over my bonnet. I then lost control and flew through the windscreen as i wasnt wearing my seat belt. I then sued the council for improper use of a speed sign, the lamp post being in the way, the car company for not saying in the manual that i HAD to wear a belt and then sued the old lady for comming out at the wrong moment. I got £20 and injuries for you took £19.' Brrriliant!
I SAY BRING BACK THE MALTESER ADVERT WITH THE NAKED BLOKE.
Moonpig - The advert for personalised cards. What the fuck!! Who calls a card company 'moonpig' anyway? What reference does that have to birthday cards! The really annoying thing about it. The thing that whenever i hear it, makes me want to sharpen my axe and grab my 'boom stick' is the fucking theme tune. Written by deaf monkeys, for lobotomised chimps.
Halifax - If it wasnt bad enough that banks steal all our money and shaft us more times than a dutch prostitute, they decided the only way to entice more customers not to read the small print, is to have some balding twat that resembles an egg doing cover songs of shite tunes while dancing around like a berk. The only thing that could make it worse is if i came home one day to find a fat bird singing an aretha franklin song in the street, (MY bloody street as well!) Oh and for the tv channels to put the adverts on, every 5 fucking minutes.
L'oriel - No love, you are NOT FUCKING WORTH IT! Doesnt help Penelope Cruz looks like Seabiscuit, a la Family Guy Style.
Jamie Oliver in EVERY advert (and i do mean, every.) Has me grab for the nearest knife rack every time.
Polaris World - The advert for Spanish property. Is it just me, or is that guy really really creepy? Only 80 grand for a two bedroom shack? Really? Hang on, il get my cheque book.
Fairy Liquid adverts with Ainsley Harriot - Twat!
Land of Leather - Where chavs go to buy their three piece suite. Thats actually a bit hasty, its not the product im disgusted with, its the general feeling of the advert. I need a bucket to watch it in all honesty. Its so p.c (token black guy, single young professional, families.) To make matters worse, they show happy, smiley families bouncing around together. You know the type, perfect mum, dad and 85 healthy non deformed children. C'mon, life isnt like that. I want to see the 'new and improved' advert where you see Dad sucker punch the children for being in a half mile radius with sticky hands and muddy feet.
Mc.Donalds - Still they try to make a cow's lips, eyelids and hooves squished together in a patty, look delicious. Mmmmm, now with one shred of 2 day old, browning lettuce and half a bottle of mayonnaise....mmmm. The healthy range? Erm...excuse me, but who do you think your kidding? I wasnt born yesterday sonny jim boy oh. Just because you got sued by a clued up, money grabbing american fatty doesnt mean we are now going to believe your absolving and repenting of your heart attack sins. P.S That fucking Justin Timberlake song...there is only a certain amount of times before i become brainwashed into killing every time i hear that song. Either that, or cluck like a demented chicken.
Car Insurence companies - Non specific/generic ones will do. Im not fussy about which one we point the finger at as their all just as bad. 'Searching for cheaper car insurence?' 'No, fuck off, i like paying over the odds.' Its not enough they are repeated more times than ive had hot meals but they treat you like complete idiots. More so than most adverts/time wasters. Insisting on 'jazzing' it up with stick figures pulling out their hair and middle aged men that in all honesty should get a real job, dressed in an oversized elephant suit. 'Sheela's wheels????!!!' If i was going to renew my car insurence i wouldnt do it with some ditzy ozzy blondes driving a tasteful pink car, singing a song while not watching the road.....which leads me to.....
Accident Claims - Sorry, you fell off a one legged ladder while balancing on a greenhouse and wondered why you broke through, landed in your missus conservatory and cut your thumb? The advert is filled with stupid idiots that shouldnt be paid for idiotic mistakes. Things like 'Well i was driving at 90 miles an hour down a 20 mile an hour, pedestrianised (speed humped) walk way, outside the pop-in centre and suddenly this old woman came out of nowhere and bounced over my bonnet. I then lost control and flew through the windscreen as i wasnt wearing my seat belt. I then sued the council for improper use of a speed sign, the lamp post being in the way, the car company for not saying in the manual that i HAD to wear a belt and then sued the old lady for comming out at the wrong moment. I got £20 and injuries for you took £19.' Brrriliant!
I SAY BRING BACK THE MALTESER ADVERT WITH THE NAKED BLOKE.
The Human skin.
Self image is everything. As much as it makes the person claiming this sound shallow, it unfortunatly seems to be the truth in our society. I am not one to admit to giving into the perils of our infintile culture, but the pressure is enormous. The pressure to be amazing is everywhere. The troubling thing is that it is not necessary to be an amazing person with a personality filled with substance and interest, no, our surroundings want us to be increadible physically.
Those that fail to meet the Kate Moss standard of the outward appearence seem to fall at the first hurdle. But if you ask me, why anyone would want to look like a stick insect junkie is beyond me...but you get my drift.
I am fat. (I can almost hear the gasps of people ready to say 'no no but your not at all,' and the pure shock on people's faces to dare to say such a thing and genuinly mean it. Ergh there is no point in beating around the bush. I know what i am and i am not one to lie as people hide too many things any way.)
There is no sympathy required in that statement and no marterdom intended, but i am aware of what i am and it saddens me. Those that fail to truely understand what i mean, because it requires compassion, will often say that being 'physically challenged' is not a problem and that i shouldnt worry so much about what others think. It also will coincide with the idea that if i cared that deeply about my physical appearence then all it takes is a little motivation to tone up. This is true, but it doesnt help to someone filled with self loathing and hatred developed from an age much younger than teen years.
I have beautiful friends. Friends that have no trouble finding men that flock to them. These friends are of course 'skinny minnies' and not as plump as me. I guess, yes, that is jelousy on my behalf. Childish and pathetic because they will constantly reassure me im beautiful too, but the problem is believing it myself. I look at them on nights out and i feel enraged with myself for envying them for being able to wear skirts and backless tops. Any way, the feeling of myself is never a good one on nights out. I avoid nightclubs because they are cattle markets where women parade about in teeny clothes and hooker heels while the men drool like labotomised chimps at them. Desperatly trying to ply them with any drink they possibly can in the hopes that they can get their leg over.
What i see in the mirror is a totally different story to how i should think. I am a good person. I have many good qualities but when i stand and look at myself i actually hear my inner monologue say: "Nice personality, shit exterior."
I dont need people to tell me i am fat and unattractive, (although people seem to revel in such delights because they themselves are inadiquate,) but i do know this. Even today while my mum was appling fake tan to my pasty white back...in an effort to make me feel better about myself i have resorted to the tango image... my mother decided to out of the blue say to me 'If you lost weight you'd have a beautiful shaped back.'
Yes shes probably right, but was that necessary from a woman that i already have a terrible relationship with. Was it a snide dig? One of her many that im now used to, even though not any more immune to. Or was it a terribly phrased compliment? Either way, the point was i still feel shit about my weight enough to react by sitting on my bed feeling slightly worse about myself.
I then proceeded to do 150 sit ups and numerous weights in my bedroom. Pathetic arent i!
Yes i am lazy, yes i do have 'curvy' genes that i swear Levi's dont advertise, but something inside of me prevents me from actually becomming proactive and getting slim...er.
Only the other month my dad asked me if i had an eating dissorder. By that he didnt mean am i projectile vomiting food from me every time i ate, but instead he was asking if i ate because i was emotionally troubled. Good old father for passing on his psychologist theories to me. Yes the simple fact is i do have an eating problem. I eat when im bored or depressed, but i mainly stuff myself because of the troubles ive had with men.
Lets just say, like everyone else who's ever encountered the opposite sex, i have had awful luck. One was abusive, the other i dumped for no real reason other than he didnt want to leave our home town, one i have been in love with for years has misstreated me and hurt me more times than i want to remember, and the other was sleeping with his ex gf while he was living with me.
In my crazy little skull i subconciously think that if i stay fat and men run off with other women and dont like me, then i can put it down to me being fat and unattractive, instead of me having a terrible personality. Its my fucked up way of rationalising whats happened to me over the years. All be it a little narsassistic as well because if i did have an awful personality, how could you ever correct that?? At least with an awful exterior, i would always be able to change that if so pushed.
There, so i have written down a little bit of crazy that my mind goes through every day. Inconsequential and very messy with a hint of, like i said before, narcassism. If anyone will ever read this and it wasnt written for you, but for myself. I cant keep regular diaries because my nosey mother always finds them. Years of hide and seek with alcohol has made her a pro at rummaging through things to find what she wants. But anyway, if anyone does/is reading this, im well aware that this is not life altering stuff and that this is not one of those blogs written down purely for sympathy. People's fake sympathy makes me sick. Its quite revolting to see when not from the heart. I also quite like the idea that other girls especially read this, and feel the same way but are too afraid to admit to it.
Those that fail to meet the Kate Moss standard of the outward appearence seem to fall at the first hurdle. But if you ask me, why anyone would want to look like a stick insect junkie is beyond me...but you get my drift.
I am fat. (I can almost hear the gasps of people ready to say 'no no but your not at all,' and the pure shock on people's faces to dare to say such a thing and genuinly mean it. Ergh there is no point in beating around the bush. I know what i am and i am not one to lie as people hide too many things any way.)
There is no sympathy required in that statement and no marterdom intended, but i am aware of what i am and it saddens me. Those that fail to truely understand what i mean, because it requires compassion, will often say that being 'physically challenged' is not a problem and that i shouldnt worry so much about what others think. It also will coincide with the idea that if i cared that deeply about my physical appearence then all it takes is a little motivation to tone up. This is true, but it doesnt help to someone filled with self loathing and hatred developed from an age much younger than teen years.
I have beautiful friends. Friends that have no trouble finding men that flock to them. These friends are of course 'skinny minnies' and not as plump as me. I guess, yes, that is jelousy on my behalf. Childish and pathetic because they will constantly reassure me im beautiful too, but the problem is believing it myself. I look at them on nights out and i feel enraged with myself for envying them for being able to wear skirts and backless tops. Any way, the feeling of myself is never a good one on nights out. I avoid nightclubs because they are cattle markets where women parade about in teeny clothes and hooker heels while the men drool like labotomised chimps at them. Desperatly trying to ply them with any drink they possibly can in the hopes that they can get their leg over.
What i see in the mirror is a totally different story to how i should think. I am a good person. I have many good qualities but when i stand and look at myself i actually hear my inner monologue say: "Nice personality, shit exterior."
I dont need people to tell me i am fat and unattractive, (although people seem to revel in such delights because they themselves are inadiquate,) but i do know this. Even today while my mum was appling fake tan to my pasty white back...in an effort to make me feel better about myself i have resorted to the tango image... my mother decided to out of the blue say to me 'If you lost weight you'd have a beautiful shaped back.'
Yes shes probably right, but was that necessary from a woman that i already have a terrible relationship with. Was it a snide dig? One of her many that im now used to, even though not any more immune to. Or was it a terribly phrased compliment? Either way, the point was i still feel shit about my weight enough to react by sitting on my bed feeling slightly worse about myself.
I then proceeded to do 150 sit ups and numerous weights in my bedroom. Pathetic arent i!
Yes i am lazy, yes i do have 'curvy' genes that i swear Levi's dont advertise, but something inside of me prevents me from actually becomming proactive and getting slim...er.
Only the other month my dad asked me if i had an eating dissorder. By that he didnt mean am i projectile vomiting food from me every time i ate, but instead he was asking if i ate because i was emotionally troubled. Good old father for passing on his psychologist theories to me. Yes the simple fact is i do have an eating problem. I eat when im bored or depressed, but i mainly stuff myself because of the troubles ive had with men.
Lets just say, like everyone else who's ever encountered the opposite sex, i have had awful luck. One was abusive, the other i dumped for no real reason other than he didnt want to leave our home town, one i have been in love with for years has misstreated me and hurt me more times than i want to remember, and the other was sleeping with his ex gf while he was living with me.
In my crazy little skull i subconciously think that if i stay fat and men run off with other women and dont like me, then i can put it down to me being fat and unattractive, instead of me having a terrible personality. Its my fucked up way of rationalising whats happened to me over the years. All be it a little narsassistic as well because if i did have an awful personality, how could you ever correct that?? At least with an awful exterior, i would always be able to change that if so pushed.
There, so i have written down a little bit of crazy that my mind goes through every day. Inconsequential and very messy with a hint of, like i said before, narcassism. If anyone will ever read this and it wasnt written for you, but for myself. I cant keep regular diaries because my nosey mother always finds them. Years of hide and seek with alcohol has made her a pro at rummaging through things to find what she wants. But anyway, if anyone does/is reading this, im well aware that this is not life altering stuff and that this is not one of those blogs written down purely for sympathy. People's fake sympathy makes me sick. Its quite revolting to see when not from the heart. I also quite like the idea that other girls especially read this, and feel the same way but are too afraid to admit to it.
Thursday, 31 May 2007
The words that build my life
Pubs selling shit art.
If someone produced good art which they planned to sell at a reasonable price, would they need to display it in a place where people habitually become drunk?
Adult editions of children's books.
If you must follow the adventures of a public school conjuror, even though you are a notionally grown adult, why attempt to conceal the fact behind a different cover, as if fellow passengers will assume after a casual glance that you're actually reading Thomas Mann in the original German?
Adventurers/mountaneers/explorers.
The world being largely explored now, is there really any need for a load of posh blokes to try to reach the South Pole living only on roasted peat and using equipment they bought in the Blacks sale? If they do set out over the Pacific in an 8-foot dinghy, risking almost certain drowining, would it be unreasonable to suggest that when they do capsize, rather than expect a multi-thousand pound rescue operation and media furore, they could at least have the decency just to drown, quietly?
These posh weirdies say things lie, 'If you make a mistake in that situation, you're dead.' Well, don't do it then, you twat! Because it's at least feasible that you'll make a mistake! Also: 'If the weather closes in, you're dead.' Well, forgive me, but isn't that what the weather does in the mountains? 'At that point, the weather started to close in!' Of course it did. You were climbing up a fucking mountain.
Powerpoint.
The Microsoft tool that encourages people to talk like fuckheads.
Expose documentaries which are not.
In recent years, channel 5 has left behind all that wispy-drapes rumpo to become a proper TV channel, fulfilling an urgent public service brief to keep the public informed on today's vital issues: mummies, dictators and how to fly in a Spitfire.
Sometimes, though, they let their rigorous standards slip and put out hack pieces with no new facts or footage but with a sexed-up title and risque trailer promising to blow the lid off all sorts of dark and sultry secrets.
Secrets of the Beatles promised to expose years of the Fab Four secrecy - the build-up looked like it was going to tell how they were all secret lovers in league with the devil. In the event, the programme revealed that they were very popular in the 60's and that Ringo was a fake name.
This is unsatisfactory all round. If you really want to sex it up to get the punters in, why no just completley make the documentaries up? Here's a few to get you started:
*Full Egyptian Sex.
*Mummified D-Day Shag Bandits.
*Hitler, mummified, At It-In colour.
*I'm a nude Dunkirk Tommy - Get me out of here!
Advice Slips.
In what meaningful sense does a reciept from a cash point constitute advice? All it says is: 'You haven't got any money.' That's not advice.
It would only be advice if they said: 'My brother's just won some money on a horse. I expect he'd lend you a couple of quid until you get paid.' Or, 'If you turned up to work on time occasionally, mayber you'd get promoted and we wouldn't have to go through this pathetic charade every month.'
Cafe's that charge excessive amounts for a mug of shit tea.
A pound? A fucking pound? I know what tea costs! I make it all the time!
Cafe's that offer you butter but really give you margerine.
It's the lies i can't stand.
Tits out for Charity.
On occasion, all the diseases and disasters, the billions afflicted worldwide poverty, the endless oceans of distress, the maimed unfortunates desperate for some kind of relief, fill one with need to help in the only way thats appropriate. That's right, folks, it's bikini carwash time!
This is, after all, a fitting way to raise money for Cancer Research UK. How better to highlight the hardships of all those middle-aged women undergoing untensive radiotherapy on their breasts, than to parade some healthy, pert, soaped-up jubblies around a supermarket carpark in Surrey?
Once in a lifetime Charity trips.
Previously, people booked a holiday and paid for themselves. You didn't say to your workmates; 'I fancy two weeks in Ibiza, getting ripped to the tits on Ecstasy tablets and contracting an STD: fancy chippin in?'
Now, though, people are quite happy to say: 'Go on, it's only 50 quid and it's for the disabled kiddies.' But then they mumble: 'Except half of it pays for me to go camel trekking in Mongolia.' And when you ask them to repeat the second bit louder, they show you a picture of a child who's been blown up by a mine.
Other similar gambits might include: 'If you pay for me to go to the pub tonight, i'll put your change in the charity box - go on, it's for the lifeboats you stingy cunt.
The Chuckle Brothers.
Disturbing.
Inane adverts.
Dogs are stupid and will happily run around with bog roll in their mouth, but cats are always 'discerning.' The laws of ad-thropomorphism dictate that cats must always sound upper class and sleepily self-satisfied, like Leslie Phillips drinking fine wines in a jacuzzi. They come on like they own half of Mayfair, when in fact they'd fucking starve if you didn't give them mashed up animal genitals out of a tin. Assholes.
The Daily Mail.
The concentration camps- about which 'gross and reckless accusations have been made' - were just full of dirty Reds. The only people who suffered were a few troublesom 'minorities.' Like, for instance, the Jews.
Il Divo.
Italian for 'The Divs.'
DVD's with adverts you can't skip.
The target group for these ads is quite small - the sort of person who wants to watch the same clip from Only Fucking Fools and Bastard Horses EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY USE THEIR DVD.
The other thing DVD production bastards do is stop you skipping the copyright information - and then put it in 782 different languages, with a running order of seven hours. Just in case you thought it was perfectly legal to burn copies of DVD's but only if you went to Norway and did it.
If someone produced good art which they planned to sell at a reasonable price, would they need to display it in a place where people habitually become drunk?
Adult editions of children's books.
If you must follow the adventures of a public school conjuror, even though you are a notionally grown adult, why attempt to conceal the fact behind a different cover, as if fellow passengers will assume after a casual glance that you're actually reading Thomas Mann in the original German?
Adventurers/mountaneers/explorers.
The world being largely explored now, is there really any need for a load of posh blokes to try to reach the South Pole living only on roasted peat and using equipment they bought in the Blacks sale? If they do set out over the Pacific in an 8-foot dinghy, risking almost certain drowining, would it be unreasonable to suggest that when they do capsize, rather than expect a multi-thousand pound rescue operation and media furore, they could at least have the decency just to drown, quietly?
These posh weirdies say things lie, 'If you make a mistake in that situation, you're dead.' Well, don't do it then, you twat! Because it's at least feasible that you'll make a mistake! Also: 'If the weather closes in, you're dead.' Well, forgive me, but isn't that what the weather does in the mountains? 'At that point, the weather started to close in!' Of course it did. You were climbing up a fucking mountain.
Powerpoint.
The Microsoft tool that encourages people to talk like fuckheads.
Expose documentaries which are not.
In recent years, channel 5 has left behind all that wispy-drapes rumpo to become a proper TV channel, fulfilling an urgent public service brief to keep the public informed on today's vital issues: mummies, dictators and how to fly in a Spitfire.
Sometimes, though, they let their rigorous standards slip and put out hack pieces with no new facts or footage but with a sexed-up title and risque trailer promising to blow the lid off all sorts of dark and sultry secrets.
Secrets of the Beatles promised to expose years of the Fab Four secrecy - the build-up looked like it was going to tell how they were all secret lovers in league with the devil. In the event, the programme revealed that they were very popular in the 60's and that Ringo was a fake name.
This is unsatisfactory all round. If you really want to sex it up to get the punters in, why no just completley make the documentaries up? Here's a few to get you started:
*Full Egyptian Sex.
*Mummified D-Day Shag Bandits.
*Hitler, mummified, At It-In colour.
*I'm a nude Dunkirk Tommy - Get me out of here!
Advice Slips.
In what meaningful sense does a reciept from a cash point constitute advice? All it says is: 'You haven't got any money.' That's not advice.
It would only be advice if they said: 'My brother's just won some money on a horse. I expect he'd lend you a couple of quid until you get paid.' Or, 'If you turned up to work on time occasionally, mayber you'd get promoted and we wouldn't have to go through this pathetic charade every month.'
Cafe's that charge excessive amounts for a mug of shit tea.
A pound? A fucking pound? I know what tea costs! I make it all the time!
Cafe's that offer you butter but really give you margerine.
It's the lies i can't stand.
Tits out for Charity.
On occasion, all the diseases and disasters, the billions afflicted worldwide poverty, the endless oceans of distress, the maimed unfortunates desperate for some kind of relief, fill one with need to help in the only way thats appropriate. That's right, folks, it's bikini carwash time!
This is, after all, a fitting way to raise money for Cancer Research UK. How better to highlight the hardships of all those middle-aged women undergoing untensive radiotherapy on their breasts, than to parade some healthy, pert, soaped-up jubblies around a supermarket carpark in Surrey?
Once in a lifetime Charity trips.
Previously, people booked a holiday and paid for themselves. You didn't say to your workmates; 'I fancy two weeks in Ibiza, getting ripped to the tits on Ecstasy tablets and contracting an STD: fancy chippin in?'
Now, though, people are quite happy to say: 'Go on, it's only 50 quid and it's for the disabled kiddies.' But then they mumble: 'Except half of it pays for me to go camel trekking in Mongolia.' And when you ask them to repeat the second bit louder, they show you a picture of a child who's been blown up by a mine.
Other similar gambits might include: 'If you pay for me to go to the pub tonight, i'll put your change in the charity box - go on, it's for the lifeboats you stingy cunt.
The Chuckle Brothers.
Disturbing.
Inane adverts.
Dogs are stupid and will happily run around with bog roll in their mouth, but cats are always 'discerning.' The laws of ad-thropomorphism dictate that cats must always sound upper class and sleepily self-satisfied, like Leslie Phillips drinking fine wines in a jacuzzi. They come on like they own half of Mayfair, when in fact they'd fucking starve if you didn't give them mashed up animal genitals out of a tin. Assholes.
The Daily Mail.
The concentration camps- about which 'gross and reckless accusations have been made' - were just full of dirty Reds. The only people who suffered were a few troublesom 'minorities.' Like, for instance, the Jews.
Il Divo.
Italian for 'The Divs.'
DVD's with adverts you can't skip.
The target group for these ads is quite small - the sort of person who wants to watch the same clip from Only Fucking Fools and Bastard Horses EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY USE THEIR DVD.
The other thing DVD production bastards do is stop you skipping the copyright information - and then put it in 782 different languages, with a running order of seven hours. Just in case you thought it was perfectly legal to burn copies of DVD's but only if you went to Norway and did it.
Wednesday, 9 May 2007
Bringing them to justice
After reading two articles in leading broadsheets in February 2007, I have asked myself the question; “Why was Serbia cleared of Genocide when there seemed to be so many inconsistencies?”
This question asks what happened twelve years ago in Bosnia and why has no one significant been prosecuted for such disgusting crimes?
Since I was not there at the time and have no real recollection of the events unfolding, I have searched through many articles and papers, and spoken to people involved with trying to raise awareness and convict the individuals and states accountable for the ‘systematic ethnic cleansing.’
Between 1992 to1995 the Bosnian war was taking place and in response the U.N set up a ‘safe-area’ in the Bosnian town of Srebrenica, to protect Bosnians from being massacred by Serbians.
As is becoming more clear regarding the U.N’s ever increasing actions of ‘too little, too late,’ they deployed a small unit operating under the mandate of United Nations Protection Force (UNPROFOR,) to secure Srebrenica and protect its civilians. Unfortunately, being outnumbered, the town was taken over by the Army of Republika Srpska in July 1995.
Approximately 8,000 Bosniak men and boys were arbitrarily killed by the Serbian government backed forces.
Although most of us were either too young to remember the full impact, or have merely forgotten, the International Criminal Court finally tried Serbia on the grounds
of Genocide in February of this year. Many eye witnesses, bodies and testimonies had to be taken and accounted for, in order to present a full case to the court.
Although being given the ‘not-guilty’ ruling from the court, this has caused controversy and outrage, especially among the survivors and those who lost loved ones in the conflict. The decision took the form of several votes and by an outstanding vote of 13 to 2, Serbia was cleared of Genocide.
Ironically, the court stated that “Serbia had violated the obligation to prevent Genocide.”
Judge Rosalyn Higgins said; “[Serbia] had not shown that it took any initiative to prevent what happened or any action on its part to avert the atrocities which were being committed.”
So, if this is the case and the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia gave it the name ‘Srebrenica genocide’, why then are they willing to clear Serbia? Why are they not being held accountable for their actions, especially after the Republika Srpska issued a formal apology for the massacre? This implies they are admitting to their actions. And what about those people affected by the decision? Those families hoping to find justice, or those families from the other side who feel ashamed of their countries previous actions.
Julie Scott, who works for the Srebrenica Justice Campaign says; “What is the point of having a criminal court there to seek justice, if justice won’t be delivered? It seems that they are scared to make the first move towards convictions like this. As history has shown us, we are not learning from our mistakes, merely repeating them over and over again. The international community must realise we need to focus on punishment for the guilty instead of turning a blind eye.”
Since the International Criminal Court was established 60 years ago, this is the first case where a ruling could determine whether a country was guilty of committing genocide or not, but the result has brought much disappointment to the country of Bosnia who brought the case forward.
As stated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, set up in 1945 after the atrocities of World War 2, it clearly defines what constitutes Genocide.
“In the present Convention, Genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group.” (Steiner and Alston, 2000.)
The key word regarding this statement is ‘intent.’ Whether or not Serbia managed to commit Genocide means that the intent to do so, is punishable under the original declaration.
Clearing Serbia of Genocide clearly contradicts the human rights laws already set in place, as Serbia did intend to commit Genocide and did nothing to prevent it happening against Bosnia. A fact already stated by Judge Rosalyn Higgins.
If this inconsistency is so glaringly obvious, why then did the ICC not prosecute or put forward a case to prosecute in future, Serbia on the intent that they did nothing to stop the Genocide in Bosnia?
Nicola Duckworth, the Programme Director of Europe for Amnesty International says; “Ten years after the end of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the women of Srebrenica are still waiting for the men who killed their sons and husbands to be brought to justice.”
The failure to bring the two key individuals of the massacre to justice, Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, highlights the ever growing errors, and often seemingly complacent feelings, in the international justice system.
Although a number of minor individuals involved have been brought to justice, the ICC still seems reluctant to take the first step to convict a state on this crime.
Tony Hill, 26, who works within the media industry says; “I feel one of the reasoning’s behind the reluctance to prosecute Serbia, may have been because the uncertainty of what punishment should be applied.”
This indeed does raise the question of how could you punish a state on a crime that has never before led to a conviction? This leads to new policies and governmental discussions and practices that take time and effort. Perhaps effort that the people behind the courts are not ready for.
To highlight the lack of awareness within the same age bracket, Simon Hamby, 25 a student from Kingston University says; “I cant remember the genocide taking place and any details regarding it. It may seem close minded, but at the time I was quite
young and thought as it was another country, I felt it didn’t apply to me. Today, it seems such a long time ago, it hard to form an opinion and I feel quite detached.”
After being told of the glaring evidence pointing towards Serbia being responsible and the inconsistencies shown within the trial, he goes on to say; “However, it does seem that the issue is still as important to the people affected as it ever was. If families were torn apart by the killings, it should be the courts duty to prosecute those responsible.”
In all the reports that are available to read, Serbia comes across as the clear persecutor in the war. The eye witness accounts of U.N soldiers and Bosnian civilians clearly back up testimonies that say Serbia was behind the attack on Srebrenica. Coming so close and then allowing the country to be cleared leaves unanswered question, and for those that had placed all their hopes on justice prevailing at the trial, it seems to leave a strong taste of dissatisfaction and disgust.
This question asks what happened twelve years ago in Bosnia and why has no one significant been prosecuted for such disgusting crimes?
Since I was not there at the time and have no real recollection of the events unfolding, I have searched through many articles and papers, and spoken to people involved with trying to raise awareness and convict the individuals and states accountable for the ‘systematic ethnic cleansing.’
Between 1992 to1995 the Bosnian war was taking place and in response the U.N set up a ‘safe-area’ in the Bosnian town of Srebrenica, to protect Bosnians from being massacred by Serbians.
As is becoming more clear regarding the U.N’s ever increasing actions of ‘too little, too late,’ they deployed a small unit operating under the mandate of United Nations Protection Force (UNPROFOR,) to secure Srebrenica and protect its civilians. Unfortunately, being outnumbered, the town was taken over by the Army of Republika Srpska in July 1995.
Approximately 8,000 Bosniak men and boys were arbitrarily killed by the Serbian government backed forces.
Although most of us were either too young to remember the full impact, or have merely forgotten, the International Criminal Court finally tried Serbia on the grounds
of Genocide in February of this year. Many eye witnesses, bodies and testimonies had to be taken and accounted for, in order to present a full case to the court.
Although being given the ‘not-guilty’ ruling from the court, this has caused controversy and outrage, especially among the survivors and those who lost loved ones in the conflict. The decision took the form of several votes and by an outstanding vote of 13 to 2, Serbia was cleared of Genocide.
Ironically, the court stated that “Serbia had violated the obligation to prevent Genocide.”
Judge Rosalyn Higgins said; “[Serbia] had not shown that it took any initiative to prevent what happened or any action on its part to avert the atrocities which were being committed.”
So, if this is the case and the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia gave it the name ‘Srebrenica genocide’, why then are they willing to clear Serbia? Why are they not being held accountable for their actions, especially after the Republika Srpska issued a formal apology for the massacre? This implies they are admitting to their actions. And what about those people affected by the decision? Those families hoping to find justice, or those families from the other side who feel ashamed of their countries previous actions.
Julie Scott, who works for the Srebrenica Justice Campaign says; “What is the point of having a criminal court there to seek justice, if justice won’t be delivered? It seems that they are scared to make the first move towards convictions like this. As history has shown us, we are not learning from our mistakes, merely repeating them over and over again. The international community must realise we need to focus on punishment for the guilty instead of turning a blind eye.”
Since the International Criminal Court was established 60 years ago, this is the first case where a ruling could determine whether a country was guilty of committing genocide or not, but the result has brought much disappointment to the country of Bosnia who brought the case forward.
As stated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, set up in 1945 after the atrocities of World War 2, it clearly defines what constitutes Genocide.
“In the present Convention, Genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group.” (Steiner and Alston, 2000.)
The key word regarding this statement is ‘intent.’ Whether or not Serbia managed to commit Genocide means that the intent to do so, is punishable under the original declaration.
Clearing Serbia of Genocide clearly contradicts the human rights laws already set in place, as Serbia did intend to commit Genocide and did nothing to prevent it happening against Bosnia. A fact already stated by Judge Rosalyn Higgins.
If this inconsistency is so glaringly obvious, why then did the ICC not prosecute or put forward a case to prosecute in future, Serbia on the intent that they did nothing to stop the Genocide in Bosnia?
Nicola Duckworth, the Programme Director of Europe for Amnesty International says; “Ten years after the end of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the women of Srebrenica are still waiting for the men who killed their sons and husbands to be brought to justice.”
The failure to bring the two key individuals of the massacre to justice, Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, highlights the ever growing errors, and often seemingly complacent feelings, in the international justice system.
Although a number of minor individuals involved have been brought to justice, the ICC still seems reluctant to take the first step to convict a state on this crime.
Tony Hill, 26, who works within the media industry says; “I feel one of the reasoning’s behind the reluctance to prosecute Serbia, may have been because the uncertainty of what punishment should be applied.”
This indeed does raise the question of how could you punish a state on a crime that has never before led to a conviction? This leads to new policies and governmental discussions and practices that take time and effort. Perhaps effort that the people behind the courts are not ready for.
To highlight the lack of awareness within the same age bracket, Simon Hamby, 25 a student from Kingston University says; “I cant remember the genocide taking place and any details regarding it. It may seem close minded, but at the time I was quite
young and thought as it was another country, I felt it didn’t apply to me. Today, it seems such a long time ago, it hard to form an opinion and I feel quite detached.”
After being told of the glaring evidence pointing towards Serbia being responsible and the inconsistencies shown within the trial, he goes on to say; “However, it does seem that the issue is still as important to the people affected as it ever was. If families were torn apart by the killings, it should be the courts duty to prosecute those responsible.”
In all the reports that are available to read, Serbia comes across as the clear persecutor in the war. The eye witness accounts of U.N soldiers and Bosnian civilians clearly back up testimonies that say Serbia was behind the attack on Srebrenica. Coming so close and then allowing the country to be cleared leaves unanswered question, and for those that had placed all their hopes on justice prevailing at the trial, it seems to leave a strong taste of dissatisfaction and disgust.
Friday, 4 May 2007
Blicks and Wytes
Endevouring not to do some work due for tuesday im going to have a little rant. Spurned by a conversation with Don Juan i have too many thoughts in my head. If you dont want to read something that may be miscontrued to ignorent minds as racist and offensive, dont read on. You have been warned and i dont want to deal with the unneccessary backlash from small minds.
Right, are you sitting down? Here we go.
Im sick and tired of rascism. This isnt some rant about how its sickening blah blah blah. Thats a given, we all know its wrong. But...(and people who especially live in London will testify,) people have forgotten it works both ways.
Admittidly, back way yonder, it was blacks who were persecuted and turned over to the slave trade. No respect and treated like possesions and animals. But today, modern day, in a society where we are all too P.C suddenly everyone neglects the fact it is also whites that suffer at the hands of racism too.
Ive walked down the corridors in uni so many times to have a group of black people push me out the way, slam doors in my face and generally dont give a fucking shit im there, because i dont need respect apparantly. Common courtousy is shot to shit and im sick of it to be honest.
I would like to state that i am genuinly the least rascist person i know and i even have 'know your rights' tattooed on my shoulders, and that wasnt there just to apply to little ol' white me.
It seems to me that the atrocities black africans especially endured before means that the younger white generation are still being punished for it. Its almost like a huge chip on their shoulders that they carry around with a big fucking attitude.
Dont think im generalising of course. I try to take everyone on an individual basis. I mean you dont judge people on their race, sex, clothes etc. Well, in this politically correct world you shouldnt anyway.
Before christmas i had an argument with a black girl in my human rights class regarding race. She of course only thought rascism was a white on black thing and couldnt comprehend the idea of it being reversed. Simply not true!
We were discussing the news article about the 15 year old scottish lad who was kidnapped by Asian gang members and taken to a waste ground and murdered. He was heard screaming something horrific along the lines of 'im only 15 and dont know you, what have i done?" as they shoved him in the boot of the car. The details are becomming hazy but i think he was stabbed numerous times and set alight and left.
When they caught the guys who did it, the only reason they gave was that it was a revenge attack for one of their mates being jumped in a pub or something crap like that. They didnt even know him.
This girl in my class said that the only reason we heard about this story was because the newspapers are rascist and want to pick up on minority attacks against white people. I could see her point, but id like to belive that they reported it regarding the severity of the case. I dont think because they were different skin colours that takes it away in any shape or form.
She mentioned you never hear about black people being attacked and got on her high horse. I threw Stephan Lawrence and Damilola Taylor back in her face and she had nothing to say.
Another case, i was in the library and this guy had nicked my computer chair and there obviously is none spare because one per computer. I went up to the two black guys and said to one 'excuse me but could i have my chair back please as i need it to finish my work.' He looked at me like id shat on his kids and grunted something, without looking at me, that there was another chair around the corner. I couldnt find one, so looking slightly pissed off i strolled back to my computer. He swung round and barked at me 'take that chair!' Pointing to a chair by another computer, which was being used. A coat was on it, water bottles around pc, work on screen. You get the idea. So i said to him 'im not TAKING someone ELSES chair as they are using it!!!!' Now, i can guarentee that if i was a black girl, hed have been all manners and such to her. But because i was white he already thought i was having a go at him. Maybe im the one making assumptions? But you had to be there.
I guess what im trying to say is, im not rascist, for christ sake i went to school with so many different nationalities that i dont give a rats arse hole where your from. I take you on who you are and i always show manners, or try to, to whoever it is in the corridor or whatever.
Im just getting sick to death of being treated like i am a rascist because other people have hang ups. Surely those people that judge me and make assumptions are just as bad as the people they are complaining about?!
Right, are you sitting down? Here we go.
Im sick and tired of rascism. This isnt some rant about how its sickening blah blah blah. Thats a given, we all know its wrong. But...(and people who especially live in London will testify,) people have forgotten it works both ways.
Admittidly, back way yonder, it was blacks who were persecuted and turned over to the slave trade. No respect and treated like possesions and animals. But today, modern day, in a society where we are all too P.C suddenly everyone neglects the fact it is also whites that suffer at the hands of racism too.
Ive walked down the corridors in uni so many times to have a group of black people push me out the way, slam doors in my face and generally dont give a fucking shit im there, because i dont need respect apparantly. Common courtousy is shot to shit and im sick of it to be honest.
I would like to state that i am genuinly the least rascist person i know and i even have 'know your rights' tattooed on my shoulders, and that wasnt there just to apply to little ol' white me.
It seems to me that the atrocities black africans especially endured before means that the younger white generation are still being punished for it. Its almost like a huge chip on their shoulders that they carry around with a big fucking attitude.
Dont think im generalising of course. I try to take everyone on an individual basis. I mean you dont judge people on their race, sex, clothes etc. Well, in this politically correct world you shouldnt anyway.
Before christmas i had an argument with a black girl in my human rights class regarding race. She of course only thought rascism was a white on black thing and couldnt comprehend the idea of it being reversed. Simply not true!
We were discussing the news article about the 15 year old scottish lad who was kidnapped by Asian gang members and taken to a waste ground and murdered. He was heard screaming something horrific along the lines of 'im only 15 and dont know you, what have i done?" as they shoved him in the boot of the car. The details are becomming hazy but i think he was stabbed numerous times and set alight and left.
When they caught the guys who did it, the only reason they gave was that it was a revenge attack for one of their mates being jumped in a pub or something crap like that. They didnt even know him.
This girl in my class said that the only reason we heard about this story was because the newspapers are rascist and want to pick up on minority attacks against white people. I could see her point, but id like to belive that they reported it regarding the severity of the case. I dont think because they were different skin colours that takes it away in any shape or form.
She mentioned you never hear about black people being attacked and got on her high horse. I threw Stephan Lawrence and Damilola Taylor back in her face and she had nothing to say.
Another case, i was in the library and this guy had nicked my computer chair and there obviously is none spare because one per computer. I went up to the two black guys and said to one 'excuse me but could i have my chair back please as i need it to finish my work.' He looked at me like id shat on his kids and grunted something, without looking at me, that there was another chair around the corner. I couldnt find one, so looking slightly pissed off i strolled back to my computer. He swung round and barked at me 'take that chair!' Pointing to a chair by another computer, which was being used. A coat was on it, water bottles around pc, work on screen. You get the idea. So i said to him 'im not TAKING someone ELSES chair as they are using it!!!!' Now, i can guarentee that if i was a black girl, hed have been all manners and such to her. But because i was white he already thought i was having a go at him. Maybe im the one making assumptions? But you had to be there.
I guess what im trying to say is, im not rascist, for christ sake i went to school with so many different nationalities that i dont give a rats arse hole where your from. I take you on who you are and i always show manners, or try to, to whoever it is in the corridor or whatever.
Im just getting sick to death of being treated like i am a rascist because other people have hang ups. Surely those people that judge me and make assumptions are just as bad as the people they are complaining about?!
Thursday, 3 May 2007
Fuck raindrops and roses..this is what i want
People and things i think are legendary:
David Hasslehoff.
Steve Irwin.
Receeding hairlines.
Comb overs.
Neighbours.
Arm bands for swimming pools.
My thoughts when im stoned.
A room full of books.
Stupid dogs.
Terrible vinyl covers.
Superhero's and their pants.
Home-made gig flyers.
Karl Kennedy's midlife crisis.
Moronic people.
Susan Kennedy's wise words.
Jimi Hendrix hair.
Simon's sadness.
Firemen.
Birds flying into windows...thats timeless.
The image 'vasalene' conjours up.
Photos were im pulling a 'mong' face.
Zombies.
Cheesy films were the acting is top notch.
Colombo.
Sharon Stones crotch.
Tea.
Dogging on wye hill.
Stewie Griffins madness when it goes wrong.
Sellotape when it gets stuck to your shoe and you cant get it off.
The word 'vaginal'
The word 'ooze'.......i must stress the last two are not good together, so ive heard.
Pamela Andersons acting.
Lemmy's alcohol and drug intake.
Santa's beard.
Tony hart and his un natural fascination with playdo.
Garys trousers...i think he gets sewn into them.
My emo hair...shocking it really is.
The new Cravendale advert..."all around the world..."
David Hasslehoff.
Steve Irwin.
Receeding hairlines.
Comb overs.
Neighbours.
Arm bands for swimming pools.
My thoughts when im stoned.
A room full of books.
Stupid dogs.
Terrible vinyl covers.
Superhero's and their pants.
Home-made gig flyers.
Karl Kennedy's midlife crisis.
Moronic people.
Susan Kennedy's wise words.
Jimi Hendrix hair.
Simon's sadness.
Firemen.
Birds flying into windows...thats timeless.
The image 'vasalene' conjours up.
Photos were im pulling a 'mong' face.
Zombies.
Cheesy films were the acting is top notch.
Colombo.
Sharon Stones crotch.
Tea.
Dogging on wye hill.
Stewie Griffins madness when it goes wrong.
Sellotape when it gets stuck to your shoe and you cant get it off.
The word 'vaginal'
The word 'ooze'.......i must stress the last two are not good together, so ive heard.
Pamela Andersons acting.
Lemmy's alcohol and drug intake.
Santa's beard.
Tony hart and his un natural fascination with playdo.
Garys trousers...i think he gets sewn into them.
My emo hair...shocking it really is.
The new Cravendale advert..."all around the world..."
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