Kate's Place...

Happy birthday!

2006-09-10T20:18:00.000+01:00

So it seems that I have finally reached the ripe old age of 21 (as of 4 days ago). How strange to think that when I was a child of four or five I thought that by the time I reached 21 the whole world would finally make sense, I would probably be married, be a mum, have a job. Have all the answers...

How wrong I was.

I'm almost 100% sure now that nobody will ever have all the answers, whether they are 21 or 90 years old. I'm almost 100% sure that every year I will think that maybe this new coming year will finally give me a sense of knowing who I am, what the world is, how I fit into the grand scheme of things, how everyone around me fits into my scheme. I'm still waiting.

But I've decided that maybe it's time to stop waiting. Maybe it's time to stop caring. Because I think these questions will remain always unanswered.

And maybe that's a very pessimistic and cynical view of things, but maybe there's also a strange sense of hope in that. If none of us know, then at least we're all in the same boat, it's not just me who feels a little lost sometimes.

So 20 was another tough year and here I am, still typing away and bringing you along on my journey (whoever you are, if your anyone!). A tough year, but wow, what an experience... And so the clogs keep turning, cars keep streaming the streets, the tide rolls in and out again, and still here we are, living, breathing proof that life is worth all the stresses.

Because to be alive... well what experience can beat that?

The Lion King, West End

2006-08-19T10:25:00.000+01:00

Never in my life have I seen a stage production that has blown me away with quite so much force as the Lion King. It is, in a word, outstanding. The scenery and costumes make it, but the songs and acting are also good.
Everytime you feel that they've surpassed themselves, they go on to do one more thing that makes you just want to stand up and shout 'this is amazing'.
The opening scene was so spectacular it bought tears to my eyes, literally. Sometimes things make you feel that way I guess. From people standing on stilts to make giraffes, to the leaping guiselles.

I was a little worried that it would not live up to the hype, having wanted to desperately see it for two years. I wasn't disappointed however. It probably did help that me and my mum flukily ended up in the PP seats (priority persons). These would be the best seats in the house reserved for founders of the theatres and donors of the show etc, they release the tickets on the day, and we got them. hurrah!

So what would I suggest you go to see at the theatre this year? This summer? Tomorrow? The Lion King. It will blow your mind.

For S.M, 7 months and 2 days... too long

2006-08-18T23:10:00.000+01:00

Terrifying, but for what reason?

2006-08-12T21:25:00.000+01:00

I have a lot of sympathy for the majority of Muslims, struggling to live in the current climate of terrorism - whether real or fabricated (I don't have enough knowledge of the inner working of government to know). The few are effecting the majority for very much the negative, and now we find that the (minority) of the great British public are now setting fire to mosques in retaliation to the alleged terror plot.
And so the hatred grows.

However, I have to admit I was a little confused to view an interview with a young muslim of Channel four news who said something along the lines of "I know why these people have turned to these awful actions. It is because of society. It is because of the alcohol. It is because of the drugs. It is because of the rap music."

Hmmm? Okay maybe. But where was "It is because of the religious nutcases, praying on our young people's anger and insecurities and turning it into hatred so strong they would die for their beliefs."

I understand that the Muslim community is shaken. But, I am a 20 year old (the age of many of the newest plotters) London citizen of no religion, who is also exposed to the society that the Muslim youngsters are. I don't take drugs, but I get drunk and listen to the odd rap song. I am exposed to hatred within my home town (Croydon) where racism is a problem, and I've been ignored in McDonalds in favour of a black girl serving a black boy. But it doesn't make me wish to strap a tone of explosives to my back and blow a plane into the sky.

I think it's time that religions begin to look within themselves. It is fair enough to look at society and say yes there are problems here, and maybe we aren't treated in the right way, but 'fundamentally' the problem lies within the teachings of a group of extremists who manage to capture these children's minds with promises of what will be rewarded for them if they die for their cause.

I understand that many of the families are saying that there sons and daughters (one of whom is only 17) are peaceful, that they wouldn't do this. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe it is a set up. Maybe the government is covering its back and once again heightening fear in order to prepare us for whatever titbit of fun they've got in store in terms of the middle east.

But the boy who had this interview obviously believed they were guilty and this was his reasoning. I don't know, the world is so crazy at the moment. These stories keep coming, fear and death and mass destruction. Who knows where the source is coming from?

I just don't remember ever drinking a bottle of 'Blow Up Planes Fun'?

V for Vendetta... "Fear became the ultimate tool for this government". Sound a little familiar?

2006-08-12T15:31:00.000+01:00

It’s so refreshing to watch a film that made my mind want to explode with questions and possibility and constantly say ‘that’s so clever’.

V for Vendetta, starring Natalie Portman and a masked Hugo Weaving tells the story of a supposed terrorist who is trying to save England from its corrupt government, under the guise of a Guy Fawkes, November 5th type character.

Though a work of fiction, V for Vendetta is beginning to slink very close to home. It is set in a dystopian, fascist future in London, where the media and speech are controlled and spindoctored.

How weird that I should watch it the night before the newest terrorist attacks on planes have been foiled. (which of course come as we support the new plans for Lebanon and have an unconvicted ‘terrorist’ who spoke out about being beaten and shot by police arrested for child pornography).

Watch this film. If you are even slightly cynical as to the truth of our government, if you are angry with the running of our country, with the war on Iraq, if you are sceptical of a government that can release the faces of 'terrorists' before they have been convicted into the press, despite the UK's 'innocent until proven guilty' tagline, then this film is one you MUST watch.

Check out some of the more indepth quotes at Wikipedia.

V: Good evening, London...I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat.
There are of course those who do not want us to speak.
I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power.
Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the annunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there?
Cruelty and injustice, intolerance, and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, think, and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillence coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission.
How did this happen? Who's to blame?
Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it.
I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease.
There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence.

R.I.P little friend

2006-07-25T19:00:00.000+01:00

Rest in peace to our little spikey friend, who fell in our drain and drowned and is now in the wheely bin. God speed ...

Happening already...

2006-07-23T10:51:00.000+01:00

I read Roman's blog today, Me Against the Keyboard, and saw a post about how Rupert Murdoch has taken over Myspace.

Bollocks.

Read further down this page and you'll see a post about the internet becoming regulated. It seems we're well on our way...

Some things I've seen or heard recently that have made me think....

2006-07-20T17:18:00.000+01:00

Excellence knows no gender.
(on a poster in the background of the film - Save the last dance)

To die will be an awfully big adventure.
(Peter Pan, in the closing scenes of Neverland)

Always write, everyday, until it becomes the most natural thing in the world.
(the performer, poet, broadcaster and playwrite, Ian McMillan)

Re-posted

2006-07-17T17:43:00.000+01:00

"Today, it seems that life is just a bunch of chance meetings, which result in you learning to love someone, allowing yourself to trust them and become safe in the peace you have been searching for.

But eventually, everyone always leaves.

"How lucky I am to have someone in my life that makes saying goodbye so hard."
(Charlie Brown, Snoopy)

BULLSHIT"

I had to delete this from it's earlier post and reapply it because I got an arsehole (sorry!) comment on it but didn't know how to get rid of just that comment. Which greatly angered me, because someone had left a really nice comment on there too - the quote from sheryl crow's I will believe.

I could have just deleted this but I wanted to repost it, because I think it sums up how I felt at a certain moment in my life. I'm not one to shut my eyes or my mouth (as you may have noticed). For the twat who posted on this comment previously (you know who you are) if you feel like leaving a constructive comment telling me why you wrote that, or want to start a debate on what you feel, go ahead. This is an open space - I have no problem with anyone voicing their opinions, whether they agree with me or not. But never post something like that on here again. If you'd read the rest of my blog you'd understand a bit more why I wrote what I did that day. Do not disrespect the people it relates to in my life. End.

Thanks to everyone who posts comments on here to show me your still with me! They've dwindled a bit so if your still reading but keeping quiet feel free to post a HI just so I know I'm not on my own!!! CHEERS x

Is this working?

2006-07-16T21:00:00.000+01:00

I'm having some real problems with this blog at the moment, trying to get rid of old posts that annoy me now and put in new ones that won't show up.
Anyone got any ideas? If you can see this post please comment so I know it's working.

Clash of the cultures...

2006-07-16T20:46:00.000+01:00

So, I've recently moved into my 'temporary' new house and am living it up on a living room sofa. The house in question is detached and sits next door to a new group of polish people, who we can only gather are language students.

For the first few weeks after arriving they were fine, a little over friendly maybe for our stick-up-the-arse-run-if-someone-smiles British society, but they were okay. They would regularly ask us over for 'coffee', all very friendly, but we declined. It was all very nice and polite. Then this happened...

DOOOOMDOOODOOOODAAAAAA DOOOOMDOOODOOOO DAAAAAADOOOOMDOOO DOOOODAAAAAABOOMBOOM
BOOMBOOM (this is highly loud and bassy dance music for those who hadn't got it) at 2:30 am.

Take into consideration also that us girls are no longer students, we're all working girls who have to get up at 7:30 to make it to work.Selina and Leah who are in the back rooms began to get pretty annoyed about it, resulting in a boyfriend being instructed to shout out the window for them to keep it down.

Ok, it's been on / off bad with the music. Annoying enough.

Stay with me, it gets worse.

The fence at the back of the garden was knocked down at some point and still waiting for the landlords to put it back up. One night Leah was in her bedroom and saw somebody in the back garden. Being from the strange land of 'up north' she continued calmly smoking her cigarette and watching this unknown figure pottering about before disappearing back over the fence.

Everyone was a little weirded out over it, but soon moved on. Then Friday night came. Selina and I were sitting in the garden, having a drink, listening to some (quiet) tunes, chilling out after a strenous week at work, when a little head popped up over the fence.

"Ello! GOOD MUSIC!" I smiled politely but didn't answer. Don't worry, this kind of very reserved english behaviour couldn't deter a polish man on a mission, "Why have you put your gate back up?!"
Our gate? Our fence. Selina called back, "Because there was someone in our garden the other night."
"Yes, that was me!" He said with a cheery grin. We both sat starring at him. HUH? "I was thinking I could cut your flowers and grass, make your garden nice."
"It was you?"
"Yes. Open your door." His head disappeared, and we both sat in a stunned silence. Clearly, neither of us moved to let this man in, and his head reappeared a few moments later,"I thought English were friendly." He demanded.
Selina said demurely,"We are sometimes." At this point, I felt the need to ask the question I had been pondering,
"Why did you think it was okay to come into our garden at night?" He looked a little shocked,
"You didn't like?"
"Well no not really. There's only girls in this house. You scared us." At this point he got pretty arsey and said some stuff in polish that is a little hard to deciver but basically meant we were rude.
"I go." His head disappeared, the music started up.

Now I like meeting new people and hanging out with them as much as the next girl, but we're all pretty much in agreement that it was a fairly strange situation, not so much even that he did it, but that he was so happy to admit that he'd been stalking around our garden at half past two.

So who's in the wrong here? Is he just weird and the rest of the polish people would also think it was weird to go into somebody else's backgarden. Is it a culture difference and he really doesn't see anything wrong with it? Is the fact that they have no respect, shout at all hours (in and out of the house), play loud pounding music all night at weekends and weekdays, and generally make it pretty hard to like them, down to the fact that they're away from home and in a different country, and letting off steam? I know a lot of English people can behave in this way too, but would they just wander into a garden?

It's all fairly strange. I have nothing against foreigners, I lived with a Spanish boy last year, but this particular group really push my buttons.

Any thoughts?Is it a culture clash or simply a misguided youth? Or are us gang of soon to be third years just becoming boring and highly strung in our old age?!

The Lakehou..zzzzZZZZZZZ

2006-06-27T22:29:00.000+01:00

Sorry to do two reviews in a role, but I'm on a bit of a (film) roll. Not that I'm saying I could do better but this film is quite frankly crap (excuse my french).

We went to see it at the cinema, and seeing as the last film this pair did together was 'Speed' (maybe not believable but keeps you at least awake), I was expecting maybe not something fast paced, but at least with an edge. What it needed was an edge of a cliff, to help put us out of our misery.

*spoiler* (though if your still planning on watching this film god help you)

Dear god... First major flaw. This couple live TWO YEARS APART. This is never explained, or even really produces shock in any of the lead characters. It's a sort of 'hang on, can this be happening? Oh my appears it can.' Hmmm.

Second, it is boring. The plot is slow, the actors are fairly one dimensional, sometimes even the best performers can't save a terrible script. And this is fairly bad.

Third, (BIG spoiler) at the end, Keanu doesn't cross the road because he's been warned that he'll die when a bus hits him. Ok, fair enough wait for the bus to pass. But he then proceeds to wait two more years to go and meet her, even though she's only across the road. WHY? Instead of saying 'just be patient and meet me here in two years' why doesn't Sandy say 'Cross at the lights'.

Fourth, again, how can they be TWO YEARS APART. and why doesn't she remember the guy who saved her life on the bus that was out of control and jumped an interstate, when he runs after her flapping her book when she's on the train (oh wait, wrong film). But how can he see her and she doesn't remember him, and then they both meet in the same present because he's been saved by her, even though when they're at the restaurant he doesn't come because he's dead, but they don't change AAHHAAHHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

If you are the sort of person who can accept a massive plot flaw that isn't explained such as this, then you are...

still likely to fall asleep because this film is ultimately boring.

However the dog is cute.

Get Rich or Die Trying (to make it to the end of this movie)

2006-06-27T22:23:00.000+01:00

Curtis Jackson, a.k.a Fifty cent, has followed in the footsteps of his idle Eminem and made his very own movie, of course of Oscar winning standards. The film is a horror of violence, ‘gangster’ talk, that needs subtitles to decifer, beating each other, shooting, selling drugs and being the ‘gangster-est rapper’s’ ever. Class.

Within two and a half minutes, the audience I was with and myself were laughing so hard at Fiddy’s ‘serious acting skills’, that we had to rewind in order to find out what was going on. Highlights of this award winning film include a short but moving monologue, which went a little something like ‘I was nutin until I was wit you, I never had respect until I was wit you.’ Fifty when asked what he did now, saying, without even a hint of a smile ‘I’m a gangster…I’m a gangster rapper.’ And his friend piping up, ‘He’s the gangster-est rapper.’ No jokes. And of course, the serious look on Fifty’s face as a loan tear rolled gently down his cheek, while his wife told him what we all know ‘You’re a joke.’ You think?

However, on a more serious note, the concept behind this film is actually terrifying. Be like Curtis Jackson’s alter ego, Fifty Cent, and you will become a rich and famous ‘rapper’.

No.

You will end up dead.

The violence is meaningless, endless and glamorised. The black gang culture is enforced to the extreme. Selling of drugs, equals money, and money equals power, laughs…Or as we’re so eloquently told, ‘getting paid, and getting laid’. Women are ‘ho’s and bitches’. Revenge is the right way to handle your life. With the ultimate price being death (or having your gold teeth pulled out with plyers).

This horrific bible for life, is nasty. And frightening. It glamorises everything that is wrong in our world. It glamorises a style of life that will not wind up making young, black (or white now) children rich and famous and powerful, respected in gangs.
It will wind up with these children addicted to drugs, part of gangs that live off violence to show respect, carrying guns, in jail, family and friends being killed in revenge.
Or, more obviously, stabbed or shot. Or dead.

Save the internet? My arse.

2006-06-18T23:29:00.000+01:00

If you're reading this, then I'm guessing you, like the majority of the population are an internet user.
Do you enjoy using the internet? The freedom it allows you to chat with your friends, or even people you've never met before? To voice your own opinion? To even...if you're a little seedy (yeah, lonely, whatever) look at porn?

All that could be about to change.

The American government (who else?!) now have plans to help all us poor, stupid, little 'guys' by 'saving' the internet for us. Aren't they great? Don't you just love them?

NO.

Their covering up their plan to 'regulate' us by using a 'save the internet' campaign. The regulation will control how content is delivered to us over the net, and make mass business corporations (those guys again!) huge amounts of money.
Isn't all this starting to get just a little bit old?

Don't just take my word for it though, check out this website...

http://www.handsoff.org/

or if you don't fancy reading any boring spewl, this video...

http://dontregulate.org/

or, this one...

http://www.internetofthefuture.org/
(about fibre optic networks, which are on their way, and is actually quite interesting)

If you're thinking that this won't effect us, because it's happening in America.

Think again.

Remember when free music downloading became illegal? We didn't come up with that idea on our own...

Dear Mr. President...

2006-06-18T21:11:00.000+01:00

Dear Mr. President
Come take a walk with me
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly

What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
And tell me why...

Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely a boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind

We're not dumb and we're not blind

They're all sitting in your cells,
While you pave the road to hell,
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?

Let me tell you about hard work...
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you bout hard work,
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away.
Let me tell you bout hard work,
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you bout hard work,

You don't know nothing bout hard work

How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?

Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me,
Would you.

(Pink, Dear Mr President)

Link!

2006-06-16T12:31:00.000+01:00

Sorry, I had it pointed out to me that the link in the post below wasn't working properly, so here is (hopefully) one that does work...

http://campaigning.nspcc.org.uk/nspcc/June06/index.htm

Or you can use the link below to send you straight to the e-card!

"Send an e-postcard to Patricia Hewitt asking her to ensure that every child who has been sexually abused gets the help they need."

Thanks 'anonymous' for pointing that out to me!

Please don't skip me by...

2006-06-14T22:10:00.000+01:00

Writing that last piece, inspired me to write (again) about the cause of the NSPCC.

(written groan)

But just give me a minute... The NSPCC has started a new 2006 campaign (pictured), trying to tackle sexual abuse, and help children who have been victims of abuse.

I know a lot of people think this is a strange problem to focus an entire campaign on, because there are wider issues out there, that this issue is to...what's the word, wide-a-field, that it doesn't effect that many children.

Just take a second to listen to what I found out while I was researching for this piece.

By the age of 18, one third of all children will have been victims to sexual abuse. To make it more clear, stand three children together, one will have been abused. In a class of 30, there will have been 10 victims... Sound so wide-a-field now?

Sexual abuse effects every age, race, religious, creed group across our society.
90% of children know and trust their abusers, but there is still a group of children who are abused by strangers. So basically anybody can be responsible.
And just to clarify, it's not just men, 14% of abuse cases are committed by women.

As much as the children who are abused shouldn't be pigeon-holed, 80% of abusers were abused themselves as children.

Saying this probably causes uproar in a lot of people. But surely THIS IS THE EXACT REASON that this problem can't be ignored. The abuse cycle must stop. FULL STOP.

And if that isn't enough, in ONE YEAR 4,500 children rang Childline, to report that they had been raped.

This horrifying statistic sparked the 'Don't Hide It' campaign, which is giving these children a voice, and an escape.

But it's simply not enough. Everyday hundreds of children can't get through to help when they phone, because the NSPCC and Childline don't recieve enough funding from people like us, to make this possible.
One of those children could be the one that will die that week. Because every week in the U.K a child will die from child abuse, and every month a child takes their own life to escape.

If you want to help, but don't want to donate anything... Take two seconds (literally!) to send Patrica Hewitt, the Secretary of State for Health, an E-Postcard, asking her to pay attention.

Please help the NSPCC in their latest campaign. Don't turn away from the children who don't have a voice.

The abuse has to stop. FULL STOP.

Life means Little

2006-06-14T20:33:00.000+01:00

You know, I hate the Tories as much as the next sane person, but I have to admit (through clenched teeth) that I do have to agree with them regarding the 'Life' sentance being served by some of Britains most frightening killers.
The basic and unboring version of this newest clash between Labour and the Cons (that could be a good set up for a joke) is that the news has been released that 52 people, sentanced in the year 2000, have been released from their life prison sentances, meaning they've served less than six years.

Just to add a little fuel to the fire, today the convicted paedophile Craig Sweeney (pictured) received a life sentance, which could be over in as little as 5 years, for carrying out a horrific and disgusting assualt that lasted days on a three year old toddler. It is of course unlikely that he will be out in five years, but there is still the chance, and for many people, including the family of the three year old he repeatedly raped, it is a chance which shouldn't even be considered.

In the UK, and indeed many other Western countries, we have replaced the death sentance with 'life imprisonment', and here in England, most of us turn away in disgust from the idea of 'extermination' through the death penalty.
I don't agree with the death penalty, mainly for the reason that justice isn't always right and the wrong people have been killed for crimes they didn't commit.
But I also don't agree with the death penalty of our society because we're willing to release dangerous and often psychotically f**ked up criminals back into our society for a little 'good behaviour' after they've murdered someone.

It does not make sense.

It could stop your heart, couldn't it...

2006-06-02T20:13:00.000+01:00

i carry your heart with me (i carry it
inmy heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

E.E.Cummings

2006-05-31T23:38:00.000+01:00

This is the card I recieved from my friend recently... I'm starting to wonder if she's trying to tell me something.

'Just' war

2006-05-30T10:04:00.000+01:00

George W. Bush, 2005,

"My greatest responsibility as President is to protect the American people. And that's your calling, as well. I thank you for your service, your courage and your sacrifice....

The work in Iraq is difficult and it is dangerous. Like most Americans, I see the images of violence and bloodshed. Every picture is horrifying, and the suffering is real. Amid all this violence, I know Americans ask the question: Is the sacrifice worth it? It is worth it, and it is vital to the future security of our country. And tonight I will explain the reasons why...

Some of the violence you see in Iraq is being carried out by ruthless killers who are converging on Iraq to fight the advance of peace and freedom."

And unfortunately, it turns out these ruthless killers Bushy describes, happen to be his own troops.
The recently discovered 'Haditha massacre and cover up' could cause a fallout beyond any ever seen...
And what was entailed in this masacre?
An American soldier was killed by a roadside bomb, and a man (woman, child) hunt followed...

"The Marines immediately suspected four Iraqi teenagers in a taxi and shot them, along with the driver, when the Marines said they failed to lie on the ground as ordered.

The hunt for the bombers then moved to a nearby house, where seven people -- including two women and children -- were killed. Then eight people, including six women, were shot next door, while women in a third house were not harmed, the sources said. In a fourth house, four men were killed...

Lance Cpl. Ryan Briones told the Los Angeles Times that he took pictures of at least 15 bodies and is still haunted by the memory of picking up a young girl who was shot in the head.

"I held her out like this," he said, demonstrating with his arms extended, "but her head was bobbing up and down and the insides fell on my legs."" (CNN, 2006)

Yes Bush, you're right, there are ruthless killers loose in Iraq... You just failed to mention they were American, and that the 'terrorists who attack us, murder in the name of a totalitarian ideology that hates freedom, rejects tolerance, and despises all dissent' appears to be a five year old girl.

President Addresses Nation, Discusses Iraq, War on Terror

CNN, Sources: Lawmakers told to brace for Haditha fallout

Come on Carol!

2006-05-15T20:17:00.000+01:00

Anyone else get really fu**ed off with all the secure loan adverts that are all over tv now days (noticeably in ad breaks of shows such as Jeremy Kyle and Trisha)?? The secured loan and this type of advert have to be one of the most dangerous preying techniques on the ignorant, uneducated and vunerable.

These days you can get a loan, secured or unsecured, within minutes of phoning certain companies or stepping into certain banks...

And come on, what in our society is free?

Nothing.

These companies aren't aiming to help people who are above their head's in debt. They may have a nice friendly face - such as Carol Voderman, or 'Linda Smith' - the manager of accounts - wandering through a park or office, smiling away and telling us about our easy repayments and how simple it is. Surely alarm bells should start ringing, but for many people they don't.

And why are Carol and Linda, and the companies they work for, offering people huge sums of money to get their 'lives back on track'?

Because the second one of the 'easy' repayments is missed or late, at best you become locked into non-ending high repayments.

And at worse?
You loose your house.

If you sit with your face about an inch from the screen and look just below Carol's feet on the bouncey green grass, you can see (in a font that could be arabic from normal viewing distances) the words 'missing repayments can result in having your home repossed'... It's hard enough to see on a wide screen telly, let alone the type of TV the person who needs these secured loan is going to have - 4 inches, fuzzy, black and white.

They don't have a chance.

(written shrug)

So is it our problem? I believe it is. If it didn't work then the adverts would stop. But they don't. They continue to grow in numberand continue to rip apart the lives of those who have lost their way.

That's why, if you feel the way I do, I ask you to help take a step towards stopping these type of adverts - by signing a petition labelled The 'Carol Voderman secure loan ads - don't add up' Appeal. It's quick and simple, supported by the CCCS and Credit Action groups, and is asking her to stop using her good name for such bad purposes.

Click here to STOP CAROL!!!

All for one...

2006-05-09T00:33:00.000+01:00

What is it in human nature that ties us so definitely to some people, while we can’t stand the sight of others? We’re all here, existing together – breathing the same air, going about our daily ‘chores’, yet some of us turn out as the sort of person everyone wants to be and befriend, while others you’d be quite happy to push in front of a bus.

The reason I’ve been thinking about this, is because I lost someone close to me and I’m wondering how they can ever be replaced. Were they remarkable? To me, yes. Beautiful, kind, funny, good natured…and of course, hot. Yet I know of people who didn’t like him. I don’t possibly see how. And in my (slightly biased) opinion – I believe there must be something wrong with them.
And I also wonder if I will ever again find someone who will fill so wonderfully the hole that has been left.

The age old argument – somebody breaks up with their lover and ‘there’s plenty more fish in the sea’, but when they’re getting married they’re ‘soulmates’.
Wedding vows say it all ‘until death do us part’.
But is there really only one person out there for us all? If we can find one person who seems to be our other half, what makes us believe they’re couldn’t be more people out there who would make us just as happy. Just as there are bound to be more than one person that we take a disliking too.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing or loving him. But I do believe and hope that I will one day find someone else who manages to make me just as happy – just as my friends do now.

So I say, stop the fighting, its such a waste of time. Stop hating people, chances are they’re just misunderstood. Give them the time of day, and if they really do get your back up, stay clear. The hurtful exchanges, emotional and physical, really aren’t worth it, are they?

Especially when the weather is so damn good!

Seems the sceptics were right

2006-05-02T19:14:00.000+01:00

When I first started blogging, it was because of my lecturer (Chindu) and his great enthusiasm for it.
There was about six of us who started around the same time. We used to write bits, read each others and comment. But unfortunately gradually we've began to fade out of the 'blogging' scene.
Maybe the sceptics were right, and it is just a faze. I reckon it might make a come-back amongst us once exams are over (!), and world-wide there certainly doesn't seem to be any flagging.

I'm thinking now that I'm back to where I was originally, and just writing to myself now...If not, don't be a lurker! Say Hi...

IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!

2006-04-26T18:31:00.000+01:00

And, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of Heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

William Shakespeare

The Falling Man

2006-04-20T16:12:00.000+01:00

Recently on Channel four and Channel five in the UK, there have been a series of programmes on the so called ‘Falling man’, one of the people who jumped while the trade centre was collapsing around them. And was caught on camera.

The photograph sent shock waves around the world, and after September 12th, the photo was rarely shown again, until this programme appeared, trying to understand and indeed identify, this ‘Falling Man’. He was not alone, over 200 people jumped from the Twin Towers, it just happens that this photo was so prominent and horrifying that people became intrigued by it.

And it raised huge arguments amongst religious groups as to whether these people were ‘suicide’ jumpers. It would seem clear not, as they would have never have woken up that morning with the thought that they were going to kill themselves that day, but were driven to that decision by the horror taking place inside the buildings; heat, flames and smoke forced these people to leap.

The most well-known photograph was eventually identified and then the media circus around this man’s family began. Yet, as highly Catholic people, this family needed the man in the photograph not to be their son, husband, father, brother. They needed it not to be that he had jumped to his death, because whether he had been forced or not by the horror’s in the tower, this still meant he would be ‘burning in hell’, he would not have made it to heaven, by taking his own life.

To many people hearing this, it will seem a ridiculous idea. How can we possibly judge his actions in the aftermath of some of the most horrific events of our time?

All this doesn’t matter. This argument is not one of religion, or politics, or identity. It is one of humanity. This man’s family is asking that they not identify him as their father and husband anymore, because they do not believe it is him. Surely, it doesn’t matter if it is him or not. If it helps them with their loss for it not to be, then shouldn’t the media respect this.

As his brother said, what can we possibly learn by knowing his name, that we can not see in this photograph? What more do we need to know?
Is it because we are so terrified that if we had been in the building, we might have jumped? Is it so that we can make these so called ‘jumpers’ different from ourselves?

There's no place like home

2006-04-15T15:15:00.000+01:00

I'm back in Bournemouth and I have to say if Dorothy was right and there really is no place like MY home, then thank god.
Very pleased to be back in sunny dorset and out of the chav-tastic HOLE that is Croydon, South London.
Hope you all had a good easter everyone!!

Happy Easter!

2006-03-25T07:56:00.000Z

I'm going home to the land of no internet for a few weeks now (shock, horror, I know - this is because of my highly untechnological mother who cant change the TV channel let alone work the net!) so I probably won't blog for a few weeks, but will do when I get a chance. I haven't given up!!!

What wouldn’t I do?

2006-03-23T19:31:00.000Z

For some reason recently the same conversation has come up a few times. Weirdly, following the same, random topic, that seems to be a subject of conversation at the moment…
In 1964 Kitty Genovese was stabbed in the middle of the street in New York. She screamed for help, people responded to this by turning on their lights, and even looking out of their windows to see what was going on. And yet nobody called the police. Or an ambulance. The attacker returned again, stabbed her again, left again. Then rereturned for one last horrifying attack, where he raped her, before leaving her to bleed to death. It’s said that this incident lasted 32 minutes.
And amazingly there was 38 witnesses.
There was world wide appaul at this case. Why hadn’t people done something? Was there something fundamental sick and wrong about these people?
Or is it the human race as a whole?

After the holocausts, and horrific events of the second world war, many people began to question how so many people could so fundamentally be lead astray? Many people on trial for crimes against humanity, not least Eichmann (the name behind the Eichmann trials) said that they were simply following orders.

This is how the Milgram experiment came about in the name of studying Obedience to Authority, in 1961. I believe the main idea behind this was to see how far people could be pushed by a person they believed to be of authority. In the Milgram experiment, people responded to newspaper adverts offering money for an hours work. They were there under the pretence that they were being studied for memory and learning.

The basic idea was that the subjects administered electric shocks to a co-subject, who was an actor, as they repeatedly forgot simple memory games. The subjects were instructed to increase the dosage of shock by a man in a white coat, each time the co-subject answered incorrectly. The volts reached excesses of 400 volts, clearly fatal, and over 65% of subjects administered this shock to the co-subject, on the instruction of the ‘white coat’ (though many checked they would not be responsible for the co-subjects health once the experiment was over).

Other experiments have followed this set up, of giving power to a select few and seeing what will happen. Namely the Stanford Prison Experiment, which it’s official website claims saw abuse that wasn’t far from that photographed in the Iraqi prison, Abu Ghraib. This website asks the devastating question
What happens when you put good people in an evil place?

Phillip G. Zimbardo writes ‘Our planned two-week investigation into the psychology of prison life had to be ended prematurely after only six days because of what the situation was doing to the college students who participated. In only a few days, our guards became sadistic and our prisoners became depressed and showed signs of extreme stress.’
(If this subject interests you, I recommend reading the slide show on the website regarding the Stanford Prison Experiment, its terrifying stuff).

The boys who entered the experiment didn’t know originally who would be a guard and who would be a prisoner, and were split at the toss of a coin and anonymously. By the end of the six days the guards, who had been tested to make sure they were psychologically sound and did not carry any history or signs of mental illness, had fallen into three categories. The good guys, the fair but harsh ones, and the power-crazy guards, who took action such as stripping prisoners, tormenting them, stopping them using the bathroom, covering their heads with bags, forcing them to do push-ups for hours, and putting them in solitary confinement for hour long stretches.
The good guards were too scared to speak up, the prisoners, by now degraded and nameless followed the orders without protest, after early day rebellion.

These studies, and countless others, show the horror that can come from giving ordinary, seemingly normal people, too much power. And what can happen when somebody in power demands horrific things of ordinary, seemingly normal people.

As outsiders, it is very easy for us to look at these situations and be horrified, just as we are horrified by the treatment of Jews in Germany and of Iraqis by soldiers in Iraq. But how sure can we be that we would not become one of these brutal types, if pushed hard enough?
We can hope we wouldn’t, and tell ourselves we wouldn’t. People act on group impulse, and follow commands in groups. These study show this.
As do the studies where smoke will pour into a room, and people will not react, because nobody else is… It sounds crazy, but we constantly compare our reactions to those around us.

Maybe the most terrifying thing to come of all of this, is that we can’t honestly reply to the question ‘what wouldn’t I do?’ with the answer ‘I would never do that’.

One simple word

2006-03-21T10:25:00.000Z

I've been meaning to post about a certain elderly man, who made me think the other day.

I don't know his name, I don't know where he lives, he's not famous, I can't even really remember his face...

But he's stayed with me, because of one simple word, "Hello" as he passed me in the street.

He said it with such gusto, and enthusiasm, as if hello meant 'it really is good to see you, and what a beautiful day, and aren't we damn lucky to be alive', that it's stayed with me since.

Bournemouth isn't an unusual friendly or unfriendly place, people sometimes give you a shy smile in the street. But having somebody actually speak to you...WOAH, it's pretty unusal. Especially for somebody who originates from South London, where if somebody looks at you, your immediate reaction is to scuttle away, clutching your bag.

It's such a small thing, and makes such a difference. And it wasn't just to me, as he passed the person behind me, he did it again. "Hello!"

I wish I had the courage, and more other people did, to just go around, simply greeting people, for the joy of being friendly.

"The multitasker"

2006-03-21T10:19:00.000Z

A new blog I like!

The Multitasker...Katie

Sion

2006-03-19T11:47:00.000Z

If you like great, original music these are the guys for you!
Check them out... http://www.siononline.com/index.php
(they're coming to Bournemouth!!)

Sometimes it’s better to just shut up and watch what you say.

2006-03-18T18:57:00.000Z

It appears there’s no room for heroes in our society anymore. Since the young man who was stabbed on the bus for asking somebody to stop throwing chips, it seems the message from the police is ‘Don’t get involved’, ‘Walk away’, ‘Don’t step in.’

What’s the world coming too, when we’re told we SHOULD be frightened of being killed for asking somebody to behave with common decency?

Well I sure as hell don’t know.

So, what’s the answer? Do we just sit back as thugs and criminals get away with ‘murder’ because nobody wants to stop them?

The PC in society also seems to be swinging in line with keeping them safe…What’s going on, when you hear that school’s have to put fencing around flat roofs; just in case one of the burglars trying to nick the computers doesn’t see the edge, falls off and breaks a leg. WOAH, LAW SUIT!

What it comes down to now days is if somebody’s broken into your home, you do not have the right to try to protect your family. You do not have the right to punch them in a rage, or hit them with a baseball bat in self defence. You’ll be arrested for assault, and be seeing them in court…Except it’ll be you who’s cuffed.

2006-03-17T17:32:00.000Z

You know the day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side

The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

2006-03-17T13:51:00.000Z

I was a bit dubious when I first started reading ‘The Kite Runner’. Khaled Hosseini the author, has quite an unusual style of writing, and I wasn’t overly sure that the subject was going to grab me. But I gave it a go, and wow, thank god I did. ‘The Kite Runner’ gives an insight into the world of Afghanistan, pre Taliban, during 9/11 and after the attack. It shows the destruction of a beautiful country, which I don’t think I ever knew existed. It also follows a man, Amir, in his struggle to be a ‘hero’. No fairy tales here, it is raw, honest and emotional. Amir isn’t the perfect narrator, at times the reader easily despises him for his actions, but it’s all true.
Eventually, he does become the man we’re hoping for, even though his life is saved by a 7 year old, he still eventually takes a stand to make up for his betrayal to his best friend earlier in life. Anyway, I would recommend this novel 100%, especially if you’re a bit sceptical as to how a story about ‘kite runners’ could be interesting. It really is, I couldn’t put it down.

"See how easy I am to please"

2006-03-17T13:44:00.000Z

Liking this!

Bekky's Blog

Who knows?!

2006-03-17T13:32:00.000Z

I was in two minds as to whether or not to post this or not, but seeing as I wrote it I figure I might as well. Just incase, I'm not trying to offend anybody or anything, this is just a random jumble of my thoughts...

As somebody who’s lost their way in this world when it comes to religion, death is not something that is easy to deal with. Actually, when I say lost my way, I’m not overly sure I ever had a journey plan at all.
But up until recently, it’s not really something that’s played much on my mind. January 16th changed that. And now I’m starting to question something that probably shouldn’t have taken me 20 years to start wondering about.

I lost somebody, who was a ‘fairly good’ Catholic, though broke a few of the rules on their own opinions. However, he was still a good person, kind, strong, giving and always full of life. I like to think that his beliefs have been fulfilled, and he’s now in heaven.

But the more I think on it, the harder I find it. I’m afraid, and not as in the expression, as in I’m actually scared, to admit it, but I don’t think I believe in heaven. I think I believe you die and you’re gone. And as much as I want to believe that he’s somewhere better, in a safe place, maybe even watching over me, I can’t.

Because that is the reality of death, I suppose. Unless you’re one of the lucky few, who have managed to keep their religion and faith alive and well during these cynical days, then you believe you’re not going to see the person you’ve lost again. Some people have the lovely ideals that when they die, they too will go to heaven, and they will remeet their lost soul mates.

I try to convince myself that I believe this, but in all honesty you can say the words as much as you want, but it doesn’t mean your brains convinced.
So what do I believe?
Well I’ll be frank, all that’s a bit of a mess at the moment. I’ll try and make sense of it, bare with me if it’s not too clear…

If what I’ve been told (by a very intelligent scientific type) is true, then energy can only be transferred, not destroyed. This sounds far-fetched I know, but it was explained to me in some detail, and I assure you, for every sequence of events I came up with he had an answer…I could be wrong, but anyway, saying I’m not…A human life form is an obvious source of energy. Human bodies carry heat, and kinetic energy, and chemical energy. So when a person dies, if that energy can’t be destroyed, where does it go?

I’m not saying that I now believe in the paranormal, no – far from it. But what is a ghost, really? Who says it’s got to follow the good old, haunting ideal of a white sheeted-type figure, running around wailing ‘wooohooo’ and clanging chains. Many scientific types have explanation after explanation for the phenonemum of ghosts – over active imaginations, geological goings on, i.e. earthquakes, bad house wiring causing flickering lights and lamps, mists and vapours, and even people not being fully awake and dreaming their paranormal friend.

Many people believe in fact that a ghost is a feeling, or presence of ‘energy’ in the room with them. This would (to a bit of a cynic like me) make more sense. Especially after the conversation regarding energy transfer. Maybe when people pass on they do leave a type of energy behind them, that those very close to them pick up on.

Plus, then there’s the whole thing on air particles. The same scientist guy told me, that air is…how to put, kind of recycled. When you breathe in, your breathing in the same air that thousands of people before you have breathed in. His example to me was Admiral Nelson. Yeah, seriously.

Now I know I’m putting a lot of faith in him, but I don’t have a whole lot of faith in other areas…So here we go.

If this is true, then I guess you could think that you might possibly at anytime, be breathing in the air of people who’ve already died. I know it probably sounds a bit far fetched to a lot of people, but it is definitely something I like to think about (no, not that I could be breathing the same air as Hitler, but that the person I lost could have once breathed the same air as me).

So anyway, I suppose what it all comes down to, and the whole point I’m trying to make, is that despite losing somebody, despite not having a faith or religion to cling to, there are ways to still be near to those we’ve lost. They certainly live on in other ways. There’s our memories, our photos, our emails, letters and texts. And there’s the energy they’ve left behind, and the air we breathe.

Maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s not, but it makes me feel a bit better as I continue my way on this broken road called life.

How can you not?

2006-03-13T13:36:00.000Z

I guess I’m feeling a little bit incensed today. Once again I’ve received an emotional email from my charity of choice, NSPCC. Once again I feel that I am not doing enough. And once again I feel outraged by the ability of adult’s to so horrifically abuse children who love and respect them.

When I signed up to my lame £2 a month donation for NSPCC somebody I know said ‘But we’re students, who can afford it’. REALLY?? £2 a month is walking instead of taking two buses, or having once less pack of cigarettes, or getting one less drink in the Fire Station. It hardly breaks the bank.

I wish I could do more. I wish I had the energy, and the time and all those other excuses we all give, to do more and try and change the world. I can’t, I’m not saying I can. But I’m glad I listen and don’t turn away when these emails come through and tell me the truth of what is happening to helpless children. I’m glad I make myself see the reality. Why should I be able to be blind to it?

Out of sight, out of mind?

It shouldn’t be that way.

People get angry with the charity mail through the door, and turn over when disturbing adverts appear on the news. But this is real, it’s happening. It’s everywhere around us. It’s no good flicking channels to escape it. We need to open our eyes.

The NSPCC is my chosen charity, because, as you can probably tell it’s a subject I feel infuriated about, and a charity I feel in awe of. There are probably people who believe there are other charities that I should feel more passionate about. In truth, I don’t care, as long as there is one they feel passionately about. Everyone should.

There’s so much shit going on around us, how can you not?

(The NSPCC)

Lights will guide you home

2006-03-12T22:07:00.000Z

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

For Sean, who I miss immensely

Carmina Burana

2006-03-12T22:01:00.000Z

Last night I (a very musically uncultured individual) went to see the Carmina Burana, by Carl Orff, in concert, compliments of Bournemouth University and a pushy friend(!) (NB The Carmina Burana is a piece of music that includes that bit used in 'The Omen' film - very scary and loud!)
Anyway, I have to admit that I really, really enjoyed parts. I'm glad I went, maybe I won't be going again anytime soon but it was certainly a recommendable experience!!!

I do not love you

2006-03-12T00:17:00.000Z

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I posted these lines from one of my favourite poems, because I was thinking about the person who first introduced them to me, and I thought I'd share them. They send shivers down my spine. It's called I do not love you... and its by Pablo Neruda.

This crazy thing called Epilepsy

2006-03-11T17:16:00.000Z

I've been thinking about what to write about in my next post, and I decided just to write about something I know a lot about, and that I've got a pretty good opinion on.

For me, epilepsy started out as fainting spells. People, including doctors, believed at first that I was just going through a ‘phase’, that maybe I needed to eat a bit more, or drink a bit more, or get a bit more sleep. But the fainting continued. My head would feel hot, I’d have a fluttering in my stomach and then I’d black out.

Eventually I was sent for tests at the local hospital. Tests that focused on my heart. I had blood test after blood test, they did an ultrasound and scanned my heart, I wore electrodes for 24 hours at school. They checked my lungs, and made sure I didn’t have diabetes. And I had one EEG.

For my EEG, I had the routine breathing differently and lights being flashed at me, but as I’m not photosensitive and didn’t have a seizure while on the monitor, nothing was picked up on.

Then one day, in the middle of my AS drama class, aged 16, I had my first seizure. I keeled over and shook on the ground. The school nurse, who was fairly bored of me by this time as her most regular patient, phoned home and reported this to my mother. She took me to the doctors, and it was decided that this was a deep faint. Sometimes when people faint and go ‘deeper’ or ‘further away’ than usual, they can shake in what would appear to be a seizure. He was understandably reluctant to label this one off incident a seizure and so nothing more was thought of it, other than it was a routine faint.

This happened a few more times, and though she was told my mum didn’t take action until she saw me fit herself. My family, i.e. me, mum, and my older sister Becci were in our hallway when I collapsed and had a seizure. It threw them into a panic. As my loved ones they’d never seen this happen to me before. It shook my mum up, and pushed her to demand that more attention be taken about what was happening to me. My doctor has been amazing through everything, but by this time I believe felt he had exhausted all possibilities and was hoping I would grow out of it.

Now he took action, and as the seizures became more intense and more frequent, I was rushed in for an MRI scan… I wasn’t told at the time, but now understand this was to check for a brain tumour. I was referred to a neurologist, and also had another EEG, and ECG and a sleep deprived EEG, where I had to stay awake for 24 hours. This method allows the brain to relax while on the scanner, because the patient is more likely to fall asleep. If this happens, then signals are more likely to be picked up.

With these tests it was discovered that my problem lay in the left temporal lobe of my brain. With this information and from accounts of seizures my mother had seen me have, my neurologist, Doctor Mc_______ diagnosed me as epileptic.

So there we have it, the story of my epilepsy.
Hope this was some food for thought.
Maybe this will have done that, maybe not?

Find out more!

Have a good day!!!

NEW!!!!!

2006-03-10T17:52:00.000Z

You'll have to forgive me. I'm new to all this 'blogging' and I'm not quite sure what I'm going to be discussing just yet. Well, this is me with my housemates. We live in Bournemouth together, I'm the one on the right. We're dressed as cheerleaders for the big 'summer ball' that occurs at the end of every year. (I don't look great in this picture!) So that was a fun night.
I'm sure I'll be posting again soon with something of a bit more substance, seeing as I do get angry about things fairly often, such as conservatives and George Bush, so.... until then....