High-brow? Shit it.

     In the past, when I’ve selected novels to read, I’ve always tried to go for ones that other people probably don’t know. It was only because I was thirteen at the time that I ever read Dune and Starship Troopers. It was only as a sort of literary criticism exercise turned writerly research that I read Weaveworld. Other than these three, I have always stuck to more obscure titles, hoping to find hidden gems (as I thought, in my teenage years, I had done with Dune and Starship Troopers, when everyone else was reading Point Horror books!).

     I maintained pride at the fact that I chose to read books that made more of a political argument or speculated on a scientific theory or…

      You know what? I was an idiot: full of pride and arrogance and snobbery in my literary choices. I always chose to read novels that appeared to give pride of place to some message. Even recently, having decided that I would make a determined effort to read as much as possible, I aimed for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, having heard that it carried a strong critique of Politics (with the capital ‘P’).

     Why does this make me an idiot? Well, a few weeks ago, my boss at work said that she was going to see The Hunger Games at the cinema. Having read a lot of comments on the internet about the novels, I asked if she had read them.

     “Yes,” came the reply. “I’m only going to see if the film is as good as the book. I’m nervous, if I’m honest.”

     “Is the book that good?” I asked.

     “I’ll loan you them, let you make your own mind up.”

     Go on then... I was already a few chapters into Dragon Tattoo so when I opened The Hunger Games it was only as a teaser, to see if I should read Dragon Tattoo as quickly as possible to get started or take my time. I haven’t read any further into Dragon Tattoo since.

     It has taken me two weeks to read the whole trilogy. I haven’t read anything that quickly since Dune. Nothing.

     It was a combination of things that got me through it so quickly.

     First, for anyone who wants to write, this trilogy is a lesson in pace. I have never read a book that moves so quickly. The principle reason I consumed more than a thousand pages in a fortnight is that the story just would not let me go any slower. Every single chapter over all three books finishes with a sentence that makes your eyes flicker to the next page. And that’s it: you’re caught in the next chapter and you have to keep going.

     Second, Katniss has to go through so much pain and torture, has to endure so many horrors, that you have to read on to get her out of them. Chuck Wendig urges writers to “fuck with the protagonist”. I have never seen it done like this.

     Third, I don’t like Katniss. Beyond her loyalty to her family and revolutionary impulse, there is very little to like about her. She sums it up in the last book: she’s manipulative, cold, indecisive. Her relationships with the supporting characters make her even less likeable than her own self-involvement. Despite this, because it would mean the other characters finding their own happy place in the world, I wanted Katniss to ‘win’, to be happy in the end. And I did like the supporting characters.

     The only thing I didn’t like about the whole trilogy was the almost-preoccupation with giving Katniss a makeover before the first games.

     Oh, and the nagging sensation throughout The Hunger Games that Katniss would end up with Jacob at the end of Mockingjay.

     Sorry, I mean, Gale.

     Okay, that was a cheap shot. Having seen the first two films in that pile of toss (I saw the first film under duress and have no intention of ever reading the books), there is no comparison. Still, I will bludgeon to death the first person I see wearing a “Team Gale” or “Team Peeta” t-shirt/hoody.

     Anyway, the result of the last two weeks is that I will no longer preference “upmarket” or “worthy” novels over plain old popular ones. As much as I would like to come across as urbane and well-read, I have just had too much fun recently. And I think I’ve learned a lot about writing, too. More than I did from re-reading Dune, Starship Troopers or from anything else I’ve ever read, anyway.

     It almost makes me want to break a personal taboo and buy a few Stephen King novels.

     Almost.

What if God was one of us? A bit of a dick.

Joan Osborne once asked me, "What if God had a face? Would you want to see it?"
So I said, "Sure. Why not? I've always wanted to stare into a psychological construct."
She replied, "What if seeing meant believing in Heaven and Jesus and the saints and all the prophets?"

I asked her if she understood causality. She said nothing, so I made my point. "Seeing the face of God would not necessarily mean that I would have to believe in all of the religious accoutrements," I said, "Certainly not those of any specific religion. At least not unless God told me that the followers of one particular faith had got it bang on the nose."

"What if God was one of us?" I don't think Joan was listening to me.

I replied, "What? An atheist?"
She said, "Just a stranger on a bus."
I said, "What are you talking about? I'm on my couch, at home. You're in the radio. Neither of us is 'on a bus'."
Apparently, she thinks God would try to make his way home on a bus. I don't think she studied theology. Unless she just meant a church..? But this would assume a Christian deity and she wouldn't be so specific, surely..?

I asked her, after some conversation, "Why is God all alone in Heaven, then?"
She stared at me, expressionless, through the radio. I assumed it was just that the door had been locked and no-one told him. But then she said that no-one but the Pope called him on the phone.
"That's terrible," I said, shaking my head. "Of all the religious leaders in the world, only the Pope gets in touch."
Later, after Joan had left, I wondered about all of the other religious followers who claim that they talk to God. Surely, God isn't just ignoring their calls? Why isn't he talking to them when the Pope doesn't bother?
I'm not sure I would want to meet this God, after all. He sounds like a bit of a dick.

Football: Balls to it!

On Saturday, 11^th February, 2012, two men didn’t shake hands with each other. They had had a falling-out a few months ago and so, when they didn’t make up at their next meeting, the UK media lost its collective mind.

The final, climactic moment in the World Pat-a-Cake Championships was a major let-down.
Taken from the Daily Record's website.

I’m trivialising the issue a little bit, here. This report tells the story (in a clipped, not-the-story-in-its-entirety kind of way). There’s this story, too, about another man who may – or  may not – be a racist.

The stories themselves are not what I’m writing about. It’s football. All of football. Until this weekend, I was a big fan of Liverpool FC. I couldn’t recite any of the songs (except “You’ll Never Walk Alone”, obviously) and I’ve only ever attended a few games but I was a fan. I knew enough to get me through a fairly in-depth conversation and I followed the team each week to see how they got on. I even subscribed to the whole LFC-Man Utd rivalry.

Now, though, I just don’t see this carrying on. It won’t happen instantly: following a football team is a bit of a drug. You get drawn into it, it provides a topic of conversation to be shared with many other people. And the soap-opera element of finding out how your team got on can be difficult to let go. But I will stop. I’ve been let down by it all too much over the past few months to carry on with it.

The whole Suarez/Evra saga has pushed me to the point of actively disliking the sport in general. From the ridiculously over-paid players, through the ex-player managers and pundits and the know-it-all fans, to the rabid, braying media.

All of it can – and I want the whole sport to pay attention to this – fellate the nearest devil-worshipping, official-bribing, gangster-dealing, tax-dodging agent.

The players are pretty much all idiots, unable to compose a sentence consisting of fewer than three clichés. There are the odd few that buck this stereotype: David James is a prime example of a player with a few well-connected brain cells. But, in the main, most of them can see nothing happening beyond their own over-protected little bubbles.

The managers fall into three categories: Dodgy as a Can of Chips, Players with Extended Careers and Football Nerds. These categories are not mutually exclusive.

Football journalists are either ignorant scum – choosing to remain oblivious to any actual facts so that they can write whatever lies they want about people – or well-meaning but so far up their own rectums to notice any real, world-changing events. These two ARE mutually exclusive groups.

The fans are a genuinely mixed bunch of people. They range from idiots looking for any reason to pick a fight, through obsessed football nerds who might have actually made a decent contribution to society had they not squandered their time on pointlessness, a few other groups, all the way to people who lead well-rounded, fulfilling lives who take a passing interest in whichever collection of foreigners currently lives nearest to their home town.

There are other groups, too, but I’m getting distracted. My main point was that I’m done with it all. The players are held up as role-model with no justification. They’re no more than kids who got lucky, trained for a big team, got paid a pile of cash and stayed kids. Their all-too-frequent out-fallings are not worthy of my attention.

Even the racist ones (if that’s what they actually turn out to be); really, it’s to be expected that, in a game played by a gaggle of twenty-odd year old children, some of them will be racist.

Should they be punished? Yes. Without a doubt, they should. Should they be sacked? Probably: I’d get the sack if I was demonstrably racist – or guilty of any other –ism, in fact. Will they be subjected to either of these outcomes? Yes. But to vastly varying degrees. Each club treats their delinquents differently and the sport’s governing body fails to enact a measurably consistent policy on punishing such behaviour.

When children misbehave, their parents tell them off. When over-paid, overgrown, twenty-something children misbehave, their bosses publicly defend them, their team-mates publicly defend them and the rest of theworld calls them names.

Like children.

Cameron's Hypocrisy: Rising Hate Crime against People with Disabilites

I read this today and felt ill. Chiefly because of the inevitability of it all.


Hate crime against people with disabilities is on the rise in the UK. Nevertheless, when reporting an incicdence, the victim has to 'opt in', requesting that the attack be treated as motivated by discrimination. The Conservative/Liberal Democrat coalition government is not helping matters with their use of discriminatory rhetoric aimed at scapegoating some of the most vulnerable members of society.


I support people with learning difficulties in employment and, every day, I am surprised by how much the people I work with want to work. This is ignored by those in power (both symbolic and actual). Instead, they have, like so many before them, chosen to spotlight those they deem 'different', separate them from the 'normal, hard-working' people, and either hide them or eradicate them. Currently, the approach seems to be to starve them of vital support and simply ignore them.


For reasons of confidentiality, I won't go into any detail about the individuals that I support. Except to say that for two days a week, I accompany somebody to a self-advocacy group called People First Merseyside. People First Merseyside are a self-advocacy group that works to assist people with learning difficulties in speaking out on matters that affect them. There are two reasons, highlighted by the Guardian report, why People First Merseyside are important.


1.  People First Merseyside is a group that is run by its volunteer members. They are encouraged to use their collective voice to effect what change they can. Collective action is important in these matters. When the media seems all to eager to accept the rhetoric of tax-dodging, lazy sick-benefit claimants, the only reaction that will have any effect is to band together. Last month, they held a conference aimed at fostering closer working relationships between various groups to tackle hate crime targetting people with learning disabilities. The Guardian report shows just how important it is that such cooperation is fostered.


2.  People First Merseyside's membership represent a margin of British society. They are, every one, vulnerable to exploitation. They are not just being let down by the government and media, they are being exploited. The people I work with, like millions of other people I have never met, are being used as scapegoats. They are characterised en masse as lazy, work-shy scroungers, benefit claimants who invent or exaggerate conditions in order to bleed money from 'normal, hard-working, tax-paying, silent majority'. Such arguments are repeated so often that they are internalised, accepted and used as their own, by the general public. With the whole country apparently against them, people with disabilities need outlets, amplifying forces for their own, often-unheard voices. People First Merseyside is one such amplifier.


I am not writing this post to encourage anyone to volunteer for People First Merseyside (although, I'm sure any help would be greatly appreciated). I only want to bring to attention an injustice that, because of the nature of its victims, is horrendously likely to be ignored.

edit:

Since writing this post, I have discovered that the Criminal Justice Act 2003 allows the Crown Prosecution Service to deal with "disability hate crime". The CPS also "recognise that some disabled people may be victims of crime due to their perceived vulnerability or because they have unequal access to safety" (CPS, "Disability Hate Crime: Policy for prosecuting cases of disability hate crime". 2007).

I apologise for the error in the original post. And for the sloppy referencing practice in the update.

FunkyMoon PigeonPig: Stop Stealing Sentimentality!

If you live outside of the UK, you may not know the online services called Moonpig.com or FunkyPigeon.com. I don't know if they operate outside Britain but I'm certain that there will be analogous companies where you live. They offer people the chance to select a design or upload a photo and write their own, personalised message for the card.


I don't like this. I'm not entirely sure why but something just doesn't seem right about it.


You upload a photo that you think is appropriate to the occasion, write the greeting and the company print the card and deliver it on your behalf.


...Why?


Take Valentine's day, for example: I'm sure a lot of people will think it's romantic that you've gone to the trouble of digging out a picture of your loved one from your hard drive, uploaded it and come up with a verse that sums up all you feel for them. And I can't really argue with this.


Except that I like my way better. I get off my arse and scour every shop I can think of that sells cards until I find one that I think my wife will appreciate (whether it is funny, sincere or cute doesn't matter. She just has to see something in it) and doesn't have too much already printed inside. I then find somewhere where I can sit down, take my time and write a verse that says everything I want to.


So far, you may think, Moon-Pigeon has me pipped. I could do all of this from the comfort of my own couch and I could even save myself the bother of browsing the designs on offer by using a favourite/fitting photo of my own.


But that is exactly what is wrong with it all. I would not have to work. There would be no effort. If you think that one of your own photos would be a better choice than any of the designs on offer then make your own card. Print the photo, glue it to one half of a blank piece of card, fold the whole thing in half and write your own greeting on the inside. Put some time into it all. If they object to a home-made card then... well, they have no soul


And the big killer for Funky-Pig? My way, you get to be there when your significant other opens the card OR, you can hide it so that they find it later in the day. Use Pig-Pigeon and you're at the mercy of the postal service (hopelessly unreliable as it is).


Yes, they may be useful services for long-distance purposes (family abroad, for instance) but I still think my method of card selection/creation is superior in sentiment.

The Olympics: A Grand Self-Delusion

This year is a special one for Britain.


Or so we keep getting told. What with the Olympics coming to town (well, one of our towns, anyway) and the Queen celebrating her diamond Jubilee and probably some other stuff, too. I just don’t feel it, though.


On Sunday, I watched Room 101 on BBC and one of the guests was Gabby Logan, a TV presenter forever associated with a video clip of her dancing about with a ribbon on Blue Peter (for those that don’t know it, Blue Peter is a children’s magazine programme on BBC – I think it’s the longest-running kids’ show on UK telly) from years ago. Room 101 is a programme where guests are asked to nominate things that annoy them and, if the host agrees, they are confined to the eponymous, Orwellian storage-chamber.


Gabby Logan’s final choice was, “People who poo-poo the Olympics.” Her rationale was along these lines: loads of people from loads of countries will play loads of different sports in London this summer; it almost never happens in one’s home country so we should celebrate the fact that it will do so in our lifetime; the Olympics is symbol of everything that is good about humanity; the Olympics highlight human spirit and achievement. The host, Frank Skinner (a quick-witted comedian, sometimes very funny) began by stating that he had found it difficult to get on board with the whole ‘Olympic spirit’ but, by the end of the segment, had decided that Logan’s case was strong enough for her to get her own way.

I disagreed with the result and felt let down by the programme (yes, I know, I have invested way too much in it). Mainly, this is because it was a transparent cross-promotion effort by the BBC, who will be covering the Olympics and have their ‘Sport-Relief’ events coming up soon. I have other reasons, too…


[tl:dr - the Olympics are a waste of time and money and the idea that humans are inherently special is probably wrong]


Yes, it is a big celebration. Yes, it will encourage tourism. Yes, the competitors should be praised for their dedication.

– BUT –

1.                    The competitors, whilst undoubtedly very fit and dedicated and most likely charming people, are specialised biological machines. They train for very specific disciplines, conditioning their bodies for a short sprint OR a long-distance run OR to throw a heavy object a long way OR… Only a minority of the competitors actually engage in multiple disciplines (the decathletes, heptathletes and triathletes and so on). So, single-minded determination aside, should we really be expected to put ‘one-trick ponies’ on a pedestal, praise their name and revere them as champions of humanity?

2.                    These games (as with the Jubilee but don’t get me started on that just yet; I’ll go for that one at a time when my bile duct and spleen are less likely to unionise and strike against long hours and stressful working conditions) are going to be held in London. In itself, I have little issue with this; London is, by all accounts, a fine city with many things going for it and will probably be a great venue for such a big sporting event. I don’t even have a problem with it being confined to a single city as that is the way the games are organised and it means that more events are more easily accessible to a greater live audience.


However, I do take umbridge with the pars pro toto assumption that, because they are held in London, the games will be a good thing for the whole of Britain. London is in the South-East of the U.K. and the vast majority of the country’s population live outside of the Greater London area. As far as I am aware, only a few events are being held outside of the capital, so I fail to see how the influence of the games will extend to the rest of the country. The economic benefit of a foreign audience and increased tourism will be concentrated in the South-East. The government and various media-types will argue that this will be felt elsewhere but anyone who has spent any time near the bottom of the economic greasy pole will tell you that “trickle-down” theory just does not work. Ever.

 Warning: The following passage contains an argument that could be considered depressing.

3.                   The phrase “human spirit” is a gross, racial self-delusion and any celebration of it is testament to the rampant egoism of humanity. In this sense, the Olympic Games are an exercise in masturbation on a species-wide scale. There is no such thing as “human spirit”. When people use this term, they are usually referring to the determination of a person or group to achieve something that is commonly believed to be beyond the grasp of the majority of humans.


Disclaimer: In many, many cases, this should be praised for its own sake (attempts to improve the lives of others, for example) and I exempt these from the following argument as they are most often at the expense of the individual undertaking the effort.


However, in other cases, the Olympics being one, I think another explanation is worth considering. What people call “human spirit” is more accurately characterised as “fear”. Fear of failure; fear of judgement; fear of being thought of as inferior; fear of death. In this light, all competition can be seen as a selfish endeavour, an attempt to assert one’s dominance over others through self-aggrandisement. All competition is a reaction against the fear of potential judgement. Why should this be praised?

So, you can see why I felt let down by Frank Skinner meekly giving in to Gabby Logan’s argument and surrendering his starting position as someone who was essentially against the staging of the Olympics in London.
And he had the opportunity to confine to Room 101 ignorant cats! If that’s not a missed opportunity to greatly improve the lives of the whole of humanity, then I don’t know what is.

Excuses, Excuses..?

There are many posts on blogs up and down the internets about how, in order to be a writer, you have to actually write. They then go on to state that there are hundreds of thousands of novels that will never be completed because their authors do not follow this very simple rule. Instead, these blogs point out, such authors  offer up "excuses" (the word is almost always in inverted commas or highlighted through some other stylistic means) about what stops them from writing. I have some sympathy with these posts but not because I think that some authors are "weaker" than others in their resolve to actually "be a writer". Rather, I sympathise because... because... erm...

Well, here are some of the "reasons" for my own recent, long-running avoidance of the keyboard.

1. Whenever I get to the computer, I have to use it to write job applications rather than stories.
2. The nature of my job has changed a bit in recent months so that I cannot just write in a notebook at work without being accused of blatant negligence.
3. My MacBook died. It had been on its last legs for a long time and in October it finally kicked the bucket. Now, I have to write on a big, cumbersome Acer PoS with *shudders* MS Word.
4. My son is getting older and placing more demands on my attention (this is actually pleasant so please don't think I'm complaining about this).
5. Advice. It is entirely possible to read too much advice. I get swamped by it all. Don't get me wrong, there is some awesome advice out there and some fantastic blogs (Chuck Wendig's TerribleMinds is a prime example) but I find myself reading so many websites on how to write and how to be a writer that the actual business of writing somehow finds its way to the back of the queue of things to do.
6. I recently moved house, a process that took much longer than it should have done.
7. Since moving house, I don't have a writing space (I never really did: I used to write in the living room whenever I had time).
8. The new house is very clean. We have to keep it this way. Honest. We do.
9. Time. Never enough of it. I get in, see my son to bed, eat, see to guinea pigs, sleep, get up for work, go to work, work, get home... All of this... ooh, at least three days a week.
10. Writers' block. I don't care what anyone says: it exists.
11. Birthdays. At this time of year, there are many in my family between September and January. This takes time to deal with.
12. I have recently rediscovered my love for my Playstation. Damn you, Fallout 3 and Dragon Age! Damn you both to hell!
13. They remade "Thundercats" and it's being shown on Channel 5! I was born in the early eighties so this is a big deal for me.


Feel free to use any of these excuses yourself. Let me know how people react.

Oh, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.