Did They Expect Us To Treat Them With Any Respect?

Got re-reading an excellent book by John O'Farrell today, An Utterly Exasperated History of Modern Britain, it's a satirical look at the past 70-odd years, with the inevitable left-leanings. Early 50s, new arse sits on the throne, and apparently, it was the dawn of some sort of "New Elizabethan" era. Which got me thinking.

In 500 years, or something like that, when future historians look back (if they actually exist, and human society has managed to carve out another half-millennium) on this time, and wonder why the hell people actually willingly spent money on iPhones, what term will they give it?

It's easy enough for us to split by decades right now, we actually exist at the moment, it's a practical way to split up things when there's so much info. Not practical when there are 5,000 separate decades. There hasn't been a period defining event for a while, in the same sort of way that the Second World War was, so what do we use for now? Such times tend to get named, as above for the monarch.

Fuck.

Let's be honest, hereditary rule was one of the stupider ideas we've had, even more so than the likes of reality TV or McDonalds. There's no disputing what it is - ignoring all the best possible rulers, people who actually have some sort of leadership ability, in favour of the last boss's kid. Who knew he was getting the job all along, and so has never had to do any preparation for it. Clever.

And yes, I know that, practically, Bessie's just a figurehead, a face with no influence, other than the millions of kids who grew up scratching every picture of her on every 50p coin in the desperate hope of getting infinite amounts of ice-cream.

But you tell that to 70s Australia, where the governor - i.e. the Queen's representative - actually used the powers she has, but most people are willing to ignore. I can't remember the exact details, to be honest, I can't be arsed to look them up, but it essentially came down to the monarchy changing the government without any sort of, er, what are they called again? Oh yeah, democratic elections. This is not an opportunity to go "oh, but it's not a real democracy," or anything like that; as interesting an argument that is, not the focus for now, maybe tomorrow, if I can remember.

Anyway, this woman, whose only claim to any sort of power is that she was lucky enough to have been shat out of the right hole before anyone else got shat out of it, is able to change governments at a whim, and can essentially impose her own will on anything - pretty much everything that parliament does has to go by her.

And, yes, I know, she's not going to refuse anything, because, if nothing else, she's still actually human, and like the rest of us, probably couldn't be arsed with the constitutional crisis that would follow.

And yes, I know that this whole post is rendered obsolete by the fact that concepts such as "parliament" or "government," or "royalty," for that matter, don't actually exist in any real form, with the possible exception of our over-active imaginations. Let's just ignore all of that, it's all very well saying that they don't exist, but in practical terms, its easier to just by into the myths and enjoy yourself, as opposed to spending the rest of your life in some Parisian corner cafe.

But the fact is, no matter how we vote (and admittedly, we, as a collective electorate, really fucked that up last time. Thanks, Nick. For the record, I voted Plaid.), there will always be this dynastic leader at the top. That's a really encouraging thing to tell little kids, with boundless ambition: "no, Jim, you can't be boss here, because your parents weren't important enough."

The Royal Family: Oppressing little kids since 1066. (Not to be confused with paedophiles.)

Say what you like about the big, nasty country over the pond, but their system is better. Not perfect, but better. Its a system where, ignoring everything else, like social situations, background, and of course, the destroyer or worlds, the American dollar, anyone, theoretically, can get to be in charge. Not that everyone is perfectly suited to be in charge, this just means that those most suited to the job can actually come to the forefront. They aren't necessarily blocked by the easiest prejudice going - your family background. Doesn't work at all in practice, of course, but it sounds nice. Though while we're here might as well make the point that Bessie's family background is hardly exemplary. I'm looking at you Edward VIII, Kaiser Wilhelm, Victoria - you get the picture, all the way back to the Norse gods. Odin, you twat, look what you've done!

I'm probably not getting through to any loyalists here, so I think I'll try a different tack. Stop me if you've heard it before...

Due to the reasons above, no matter how much Dumbo wants to get involved, the Royal family are, justly so, considering their enormous power that they just happen to have, not allowed to et involved in politics. Or the close family, at least, extend that, and we'd be able to wipe out the Tories once and for all. If only...

Anyway, the upshot is that there is a group of people who, say what you like about them, have done absolutely nothing wrong - apart from be born to the wrong people (and I'll make the point here that I have no animosity to them as people, just towards the system), and yet they are not allowed to be involved in any real way in, what I would argue, is one of the most important areas of society. Put simply: the Queen may have been the one who first saw Cameron become PM, but she wasn't allowed to call him a Tory cunt.

Is that fair? Regardless of what their opinions are, they are still entitled to express them. They are people, aren't they? I know how I would feel if I were in their situation. Pretty pissed off. These people are trapped, no better than gorillas in zoos! It's time for that to stop.

By abolishing the monarchy, and the hereditary system that controls this island, we can save these people from their political exile. We can let them have an opinion! Oh, and send the island catapulting to a fairer, more equal society, where the people with the power are the ones with a mandate.

Or something like that. Let's just get rid of them, and be done with it. Of course, technically, Im committing treason by saying all of this.

I'm quite glad about that.


And yes, I'm well aware that Waters isn't referring exclusively to Royalty with the line in the title, and I'm fairly sure I've used it already, but I can't be arsed to check, and I was struggling to think of anything better. If I do, I'll change it, but for now: deal with it.

Who Wants To Live Forever?

I've been in a morbid mood recently. Don't know why, too much Roman-ing, probably. Pretending to be people who are dead, and all that. Ah, isn't history fantastic?

Anyway, I'm about to commit one of those heinous crimes that normal people aren't supposed to do, and that means I'm some sort of psycho-socio-path who'll end up killing everyone for kicks. Yay!

When people ask you - in what can only exist as some sort of hypothetical question, whether you want to live forever, you're supposed to say no. Oh no, I want to do a load of stuff until I'm old, and then die when I'm bored. Yes, very good, now let's talk about something that matters. It's as if society pre-conditions everyone to think that immortality is a bad thing, that its too powerful, that too you'll see too many bad things happen. Like, I don't know, cot death or something. Or the Royal Family.

But let's actually think about what's actually been said. "I don't want to live forever." Therefore, at some point, in the far future, most likely, "I want to die." Er, what?

I don't understand a lot of things (such as why people find onion not only bearable, but pleasant to eat, I mean, what the fuck happened there?), but this is a biggie. This isn't suicidal, there's no hint of "I want to die within the next few minutes (quick, kill me now before Big Brother comes on!)," but there is a very strong hint of "I can foresee a time when I will, not just accept my own mortality (which just causes problems when you don't) but welcome it."

Here's another big question that's sort of important to the whole thing, and therefore, of course, I cannot hope to answer. One of these days, "42" will work, but until then, I'll just apply some PSP (look at the title you idiot, I'm not advertising a games console as some sort of philosophical guru) fucked-up-logic, and see where we end up. Here we go:

What is death?

You can take this anywhere you want, but it's fairly clear to me that death is the ultimate destruction of me. This isn't losing a leg in a car crash, or an orifice in some horrific sex accident; there's nothing there that a well adjusted individual can't adjust to. This is loosing my very being. I don't, really, need a leg, or various other orifices, so long as I exist. So long as I can think, can consider, can imagine (all the people...). That's what death will take away.

This is all totally hypothetical, of course, it's a post about immortality, for fuck's sake. I'm not considering that I could survive without a body, and just float around in space for, literally, eternity. But I could. Nothing else, just me. Nothing to see, and nothing to see it with, nothing to hear, and nothing to hear it with, nothing to feel, and nothing to - you know where I'm going with this. Maybe I'm being really short-minded and, as so often before, stupid, here, but I reckon I could be quite content in that situation. I mean, obviously, given the choice between my current state, or some sort of non-existent-yet-existent ghost, it's a no-brainer. I like playing guitar too much.

The alternative is, of course, none of that. Absolute nothingness, where I can't even think. Hey, welcome to death!

It seems to me that this very noble tradition of refusing immortality is based on the premise that we are in a way, immortal. Just we have to "die" at some point to go to some sort of heaven/hell/underworld/reincarnated form/super orgy to "live" out the rest of infinite time. If that were the case, excellent, I look forward to it. But I can't accept that. I simply can't do it. The notion of there being some sort of science-defying realm is simply too ridiculous. The language is quite telling, as well: dead people aren't going to sleep after a long day, or having a rest after some hard work; people generally wake up from those stages.

Yes, it's all opinion, and I don't want to go off and say that everyone's wrong (which of course they are), but it seems to me that once you get over the fact that this is all there is, it's illogical to want to give it up. Why choose non-existence over existence? Doesn't make any sense whatsoever. So here we go (and yes, it does feel like a total cop-out using Queen lyrics here, but it sort of fits in better than anything else, and they're not as shit as, say, the bane of Floyd, Scissor Sisters (ugh, I feel dirty...)):

Who wants to live forever? I do.

Yeah, there'll be bad times, and shit times, and times that'll make me want to kill someone (I'm looking at you, Cameron), but they'll just make the good times feel even better. And when I'm all that's left? I'll be the most important being in the universe, and let's be honest, that's pretty epic. Even if it only means that I could survive the Total Perspective Vortex.

Don't worry, I'm not going to go off and turn into some nutter trying everything to stay alive. I can accept my mortality, if not welcome it.

Secret Bonus Ending!

I'll often have music playing whilst typing these, some Floyd, maybe, Yes, Jethro Tull - the usual suspects. I branched out a bit today; using Youtube's wealth of weird random shit, it was orchestral versions of the usual suspects. And by sheer, genuine, coincidence, as I was about to finish this, an orchestral version of the prophet Jagger's words blasted into my ears, that sort of summed the post up perfectly:

Angie, ain't it good to be alive?

Oooh, I Need a Dirty Woman, Oooh, I Need a Dirty Girl

Right, now that I've got your attention... (Well, ish. There is actually a sort of reason for the title, apart from it coming from an awesome Floyd song.)

Here's something I don't think I've ever discussed here. I'm somewhat of a nihilist - I see most things as concepts, as ideas, and not much more. Logically, these ideas and concepts don't actually exist, but we act and behave as if they are, because it's easier, and helps us explain what's going on when there is no explanation. Mental software, if you will.

Just by reading this, you're doing it (yes, I know the concept of a reader is ludicrous, but run with it). These words don't actually mean anything, they're just symbols, that you then give a meaning to based on what you've been taught. Fairly simple, and the upshot is exactly the same, as long as you and I have been taught the same thing. Dictionaries are powerful tools.

That's all fairly menial, not really all that complicated. So let's take it a bit further. Time to use the E word: emotion (insert generic dramatic music). Science has shown that emotional states are caused by some sort of chemical balance/imbalance that's far too complicated for me to enough imagine understanding, but the theory is simple enough. This is scientific fact, not too controversial, admittedly, but fact nonetheless, and so the only idiots who would take it on are the Bible Belt preachers.

But "happiness," "sadness," "fear," "lust" (I said there was a reason for the title), and all the rest of them are all, logically, concepts. "Happiness" doesn't exist as anything else but an interpretative state - like words. The chemicals themselves are just there, and our body reacts accordingly, based on how it interprets these chemicals. That's all very well and fine, if not at all romantic. That hot girl isn't what causes the lust directly, she just causes the chemicals to move around a bit.

Therefore, it must be wrong to say "I am happy" or "I am sad" or any other feeling. I can't be "happy," it doesn't exist, it's just that the chemicals were in a state that was pleasurable. This one act of logic pretty much destroys the concept of emotion, turning us all into fleshy Daleks.

Except, obviously, apart from all the stupid fighting we get into, we have, sometimes, saved the odd life.

I struggled with this for a while, like a lot of things, it didn't make sense. If "happiness"doesn't exist, what the hell was that drug I'd taken when I saw the pyramids through Cairo's hazy horizon?

Then something hit me while I was picking up skittles. Metaphorically speaking, of course, none of the pins or balls have hit me yet.

What if we consider "happiness," not as an emotion, but as analogy. Doesn't make it any more real, but lets us play around with it a bit more. A bit like melting some weaponry down, and turning them into something useful. I can't explain why we let these ideas affect us, or rather why we consider them as something more than concepts, but we have to. Even Hitler felt something, not nice things, but things nonetheless. I can't explain this paradox. Someone probably can, and I'm sure a psychiatrist would probably say this whole thing was a load of - in the words of Ford Prefect - dingo's kidneys. But if I consider these emotions as analogies of what is actually going on, it's suddenly a lot easier to justify it all.

When I say "I am happy," it's an analogy for the chemical state that's being caused, and my unconscious willingness to accept it. Makes things much easier, and means that I can actually still use these concepts do describe myself. No need to break any annoying habits that I've picked with them (like learning to stop saying "thank God" when I was old enough to have picked the saying up, but then realise what I was actually saying). The best thing about it is that, to all intents and purposes, I hadn't got anywhere, just seeing things in a slightly different way. And that realisation made me happy. Oh, see what I did there?!

Right, now that that's solved, where that dirty girl gone...

And gathered on the Cenotaph, they all agreed with hand on heart to sheath the sacrificial knives. But then...

Ok, here's something that's nice and uncomfortable.

The right wing media, spearheaded as always by Rupert Murdoch, inevitably likes to bring up the armed forces, or "heroes" as we're supposed to consider them, and heap all sorts of praise and admiration on them. Can't blame them, they're right wing, it's what they do. Just like an infant can't help shit itself.

But, as a pacifist (though I'm willing to acknowledge the existence of a just war, but the only example of that to me, in modern times at least, would be the Second World War), I can't accept their titles as "peacekeepers." I'm not interested in discussing the actual reason why we're in Afghanistan, or anywhere else, the reasons are far too complex for some pretentious little shit in a bedroom to even imagine understanding.

Let's consider things from the very top, the Ministry of Defence; an Orwellian name if ever I saw one. What part of "let's go into another country and topple the leader" sounds like "Defence"? No, I'm not interested in a discussion about the merits of Hussein either, but the war was an inarguable attack by us. Legal/just or not, "we" were the attacking party. Ministry of Defence, indeed.

These "heroes" have all, for whatever reason or cause, have all decided that they are willing to kill. As far as I'm concerned, doesn't matter what uniform you're wearing, if you intentionally kill someone, that's murder. It's not a moral or ethical issue, it's a simple one: what right does anyone have to destroy the existence of another?

So we are being asked to commemorate, to feel indebted towards, to glorify all these people who are willing to serve an entity to its fullest, and put them on pedestals, and call them "heroes." They want us to thank them for killing?

Fuck off.

But I will be the first to accept that it's not their fault that we are at war, nor that they are ultimately responsible for the overall outcome; they are, after all, only following orders. Which is what makes me uncomfortable.

They are all, obviously, not bloodthirsty ogres looking for a meal. But in the same way, I cannot see them as the noble protectors of the people, slaying the dragon that ate the rather nice looking princess.

Its not helped by the fact that so many people have been taken in by the right wing media, and believe in their heroic qualities. I'm reminded of the commentary on some football game; after a wayward shot from some way out, the commentator would ask: "is he brave? Or is he stupid?"

I can only ask the same question of the people who willingly join armies. To me, at least, I can think of very little more shameful than being a soldier. To have willingly joined an organisation that openly ignores the humanity in people.

So when I see parades of soldiers, people cheering them all on, thanking them, praising them, the same people who decry the same parades made by the Nazis or Soviets, I get that same sickness I get when I see the Union Flag. That uncomfortable detestment of all that it represents. And the worst part is the knowledge that there are people who have the nerve to openly disagree with me, that this view is, or at least seems to be, in the minority.

Hydref eto a bydd yntau gyda'r dail.

Yes, I know...

Anyway, I've been off for weeks now and have, of course, used that time wisely. By doing nothing. Filling my days with crap, getting up in the afternoon, going to bed after the street lights have gone off - and everything in the middle a bit like the filling of a mini roll - looks nice, tastes ok, but hardly the highlight of the day.

And as per usual, the hours before sleep are filed with assorted musings about life, the universe and everything, before I eventually wake up at some stupid hour again, ready to ignore and forget any resolve I had.

The musings of late have been strikingly similar to the last few posts, and as you can guess by the gap, I'd forgotten about them. So, re-reading the words of an absolute immature git, what struck me?

I haven't gone anywhere.

You'd have thought that seven (or however many) months down the line, I'd have finally got bored of trying to solve the universe in a paragraph, but apparently not. Asking "what's the point?" a million times, disguised in a million different ways is, of course, ultimately futile, etc, etc. I've been here before.

And will go there again at some point, I'm sure, racing around that same circle, over and over. Nice. I can't be arsed to go through all the shite I've written here, but I'm fairly sure that I'd still agree with it all, in some form. Maybe.

Quite frankly, I'm bored. I've lived in the same house, doing the same things on the same planet for nearly nineteen years, never daring to go out, because I've settled into this same pattern that people expect me to follow, which is fair enough, and can't be arsed to go through the whole culture shock of revealing that I have an extra ear on my shoulder, or whatever, and the reaction that that would give.

Ok, bad example. But the point is, things have got stale. To take the half-arsed food analogy to the end, variety is the spice of life. Yes, I'm well aware that anyone who uses that saying sounds like an utter twat. I've got a vague recollection that I've mentioned at some point that I have this stupid and futile need to justify all that I do, in some way (pathetic, isn't it?), and I don't like spicy food. So if I were to suddenly say, "ah, go on! Cover the chips in pepper or whatever little black bits people put on food for some stupid reason!" I would get weird looks. That's ok, that's nothing new, I encourage it. But I just can't be arsed to deal with those looks. Do I really want pepper on the chips that much?

Ok, I'm going to stop with the food analogy there, hopefully it makes some sort of sense (I highly doubt it), because I have a (cunning) plan. Or more a sort of experiment. Just run with it. Anyway, on the futile notion that there is someone actually reading this (ha!), I have a proposition. It's called:

Rent-a-Rant

Yes it's audience participation time! On the basis that my mind is simply re-visiting old ground in some pathetic attempt to be deep and meaningful (yeah! (the sarcasm is, hopefully, palpable)), I'm inviting you, the aforementioned non-existent, imagined reader (let's face it, after however many months, even fucking Stephen Hawking has got up, turned off the light and left), to suggest something for me to express an opinion on.

Despite the name, I'm not charging, you can give me money if you really want, (please don't...), just something I haven't covered. There's a lot, I know, but my thinking is that something random to bullshit on might kick this braindead fucker into action. Or not, it doesn't matter. I would say that I will continue to write regardless, but at my current rate, that's a pretty stupid thing to say.

If, like me, you too can't be arsed to do much, and have skipped to the end, what I've said, in a nutshell is this:

I'm bored, give me something to do. Please!

How Many Roads Must A Man Walk Down? (42)

Nothing overtly political or patriotic today, I'm feeling philosophical.

If I haven't mentioned it already (and I'm sure I have), I'm an atheist. I.e. religion is a load of crap, shat out of the mouths of assorted power-hungry manipulative cunts. Well, organised religion, at least. Science, however, makes sense. (And no, I'm not interested in a debate as to how compatible they are, and I accept that I'm speaking in broad, extreme terms, etc. - I'm just setting the scene.)

Science can, of course, offer a plethora of provable, reliable answers, in a way that religion, by its very nature, cannot. So let's ask the big one:

"Why are we here?"

Ah, shit, I just broke the universe.

Obviously, science, by its own very nature, cannot answer this. Because, logically, there isn't an answer.

We are here by total, random chance - and nothing more. We are born, we live, we die. Fin. We have no purpose: there is no sense in giving someone a task without telling them, and any purpose given that doesn't require this (as in Douglas Adams' brilliant Hitchhicker's Guide to the Galaxy, where we are here to discover a question for a bunch of mice) is so individually mundane it makes no difference - in such cases there is purpose for society; what the individual does is of no real importance.

I know this may sound weird coming from a socialist, but that's an economic term, not philosophical. And besides, individuality is still important even in the most socialist of societies.

So why do we all bother, if what we're doing has no purpose? Obviously, many will give themselves their own purpose, be it from religion or simple willpower. But such purposes strike me as being just as pointless as no purpose - even if you do everything you want to do, and kick the bucket as the happiest person on Earth- or, hell, in the Universe for that matter - you're still dying, taking none of your achievements with you (not that there's anywhere to go), and no real part of you will remain in any sort of working state. In short: no matter what you do, you'll be just as dead as everyone else.

And yet we go, still motivated by meaningless goals or ideals. How anyone can actually care about anything whilst still accepting the above is beyond me, yet I'm just as guilty (for lack of a better term, I'm not calling everyone a convict) as everyone else.

My only justification (and I've got a funny feeling that I've gone on about this before) is that since we are here by such pure random chance, we might as well get as much from life as possible, otherwise it's just a waste. Death will wait, it's just another, terminal state of life, but since it's the only one that's completely inevitable, might as well leave it till last.

Other than that, however, I see no other reason to want anything, to be ambitious, or to be motivated. And even if everything gets fucked up the arse, no big disaster, since there's no real loss.

And if all that sounds morbid, and depressing, just go and watch some Monty Python, that'll cheer you up.

Oi, Santa! Pass Us That Bottle, Will You...

In the words of Noddy Holder:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!"

Oh fuck off.

Any sort of lovechild from Religion and Capitalism is bound to be a disaster, and, lo and behold, it is. It's easy to simply ask, "what is the point?" but this fails on two respects: one, if there is no point to life, as I believe, then logically, there is no point to Christmas, and two, there is something much more cynical going on here.

Yes, it's a cliché, but Christmas is not a Christian festival, and never was. Any and every "primitive" culture had some sort of festival to mark the Winter Solstice, and rather than spend effort on removing it, the Church simply absorbed its own traditions into the festival, in a great big religious con.

But there was another ingredient, one that's developed over time. Corporate greed injected consumerism into the day, just as with every other half-festival, admittedly, but there seems to be more emphasis on Christmas than on any other event. We are encouraged - directly or otherwise - to spend, spend, spend on other people, and that we reap the virtuous rewards of giving - whilst giving the most to the fat cunts, of course.

I will admit that I spent all day in Cardiff's brand new Temple of Capitalism (sponsored by the DFS half price sale) buying shite for other people, simply because it's easier in the long run. To say after 18 years that I am to utterly shun Christmas in all it's forms sounds good on paper, but you try explaining that to the grandparents. It's now so ingrained into our social conscience that it's almost impossible to ignore, and even then, my suggestions that we all just chip in a tenner and call it "Christmas" fell on deaf ears.

I can accept the now secular nature of it, it's just a part of a wider culture. I can just about accept the consumerist nature; if you accept, regrettably, that we live in a Capitalistic society then, by default, it is society's fault, not "Christmas'".

But I can never lose that nagging feeling that it's all pure escapism: "Yes, I've done shit things all year and been a horrible bastard, but on Christmas Day everything's fine, and I can pretend to be this perfect person. Of course I'm a conscientious person, look how much I work with charity every Christmas, even though I can afford to give and help all year round."

Yes, escapism is good thing, and uffach, I feel escapist every other minute. It's not what actually happens itself that gets me, I always get some sort of enjoyment from the day, but there's a sinister edge here, that people aren't aware of, and that unsettles me. More unsettling, personally, is that for all my ranting and raving, I'm just as bad as the rest of them.

This has probably all been said before, and in a much clearer way than someone with half a bottle of wine attacking their liver, but fuck it. I can only end with a nice little phrase that can describe nearly every single thing in the universe:

Pathetic, isn't it?

A Pig on the Wing

Let's all ignore the past six months in a very nonchalant manner. Good, now that that's over...

Here's a thought: lesbians.

Here's an altogether, much deeper and profound thought: at what point do two seemingly compatible ideals clash?

If you completely missed the title, I am a Socialist, and all that comes with it. I'm also a Welsh Patriot, and a Liberalist. All good and fine? Here's the problem:

I try not to use the word "extreme" to describe my Socialist beliefs; I'm not about to blow myself up in the hope of getting half a million virgins to join me in the Great Gig in the Sky, so "strong" will have to do. Either way, a tenet of Socialism is the nationalisation, i.e. state control, of banks (ha!), utilities and businesses. Sounds good so far.

But Liberalism, by its very definition, means that everyone is free to think, say, and do as they please. So would I, as a hypothetical Head of State, have the right to take control of a business, and prevent it from trading, for whatever reason, for "the greater good"? And I know this idea has been milked so much that the cow resembles my bedroom floor after my 18th (and please don't throw Harry Potter at me, those books are big, and likely to hurt).

The question of a state also comes into it, though to a lesser extent: this all makes the state much more powerful, yet I would see no national boundaries, and the reduction of state power. Though please note that I can get around the whole Wales thing by pointing out the difference between, what I perceive as "patriotism" and "nationalism": I'm a patriot, not a nationalist. I think I've explained the difference, to me, somewhere on here, if not, I'm sure I'll get around to it at some point between now and the inevitable time when I see a bucket and get the uncontrollable urge to kick it.

But I digress.

This is the underlying problem with all ideals: to what extent are they compatible? I've always said that we're all hypocrites, myself included; how else can you describe a nihilist or existentialist (Sartre and Camus eat your hearts out. Oh wait, you're both dead... Moving swiftly on...) who sees absolutely no point or value in suicide?

Who wins in the battle of ideals? What is more important? Economic and Social fairness, or total freedom (which, incidentally, could lead straight to Capitalism. Argh!)? My gut says freedom, within a society with no government, or bureaucratic red tape that stopped me from expressing my opinion properly for 18 years, in a sort of Marxist/Socialist state that works properly, i.e. a Socialist Utopia, which I'll get around to defining properly one of these days, even if it is essentially unworkable.

Of course, there is a total compromise between them all, it's called "New Labour," apparently.

Oh shit.


Anyway, to end on a lighter note, tune in in approx. 24 hours for the first ever Christmas Special! That is, if I remember to write it...

Come In Here, Dear Boy, Have A Cigar

What the? That's what, four days since the last one? Shit, I am bored...

Anyway, was reading Nick Robinson's (of "didn't know you cared," to George Bush fame) BBC Blog earlier, and he had an interview with that pompous git of a Shadow Chancellor, George Osborne. Most of what was said consisted of the usual Tory moaning and whining, but one phrase, surprisingly, stuck with me: "David Cameron and the modern Conservatives." Admittedly, it may have been used before, but I hadn't heard it. Then again, I don't like wading through shit.

Either way, there was something about the phrase that hit me. Ignoring the lack of a capital letter for "modern," which could make everything I'm about to say redundant, it stuck me as the type of stunt that we've seen all before.

Ok, New Labour really were "New," but only in the sense that that 19th century vacuum cleaner you bought to replace the aging, yet fixable old one, was "new." What we got was the same old fan propelling the same old shit down our throats, and the continued decline of socialism. So maybe not "'New' Labour," but perhaps "'Different' Labour."

Either way, they'd changed. So how are the "Modern Conservatives" (or "modern Conservatives," if you insist) going to change? A sudden sharp turn to the left? Yeah right. To the right, then? If they go any further right, as their hilarious actions in Europe are suggesting, they might as well merge with the fucking BNP. Wonderful.

Like it or not (I'd like to emphasise the word "not" as much as possible), the Tories are getting in, and we know what happened last time. Thatcher's continued murder of Socialism goes unstopped, and the island's fucked. Just as New Labour didn't win any votes in 1997, they just got the vote against the Tories, so too will the "Modern Conservatives" will the anti-Labour vote this time around.

This two party system pretty much sums up my whole distrust and suspicion of party politics. Until there is a strong, Left Wing party, my views will never be represented in that mad house. Society's too fucking big.

Which incidentally, makes Welsh independence all the more vital, neatly bringing every aspect of the title here.

Or something like that, I started watching Monty Python half way through, and completely lost track of my trail of thought...

You Never Talk To Me

Holy shit, it's a post!

... Or something like that. No, you're not getting a detailed life story of what happened in the however many months that I haven't posted. Even I don't give a shit what happened, so I see no reason why anyone else should.

Nor am I going to go on about the racist cunts getting in in those elections. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what to say that hasn't been said already. Eggcept (pathetic, I know...) a major congratulations to the guys who threw the eggs. They should make that a sport, National Throw an Egg at a Racist Day. I'm in.

Instead, let's talk about the other recent election - the Speaker of the House of Commons. I was sad enough to watch it, and got extremely annoyed at the incessant bowing and hat taking off. Bloody House of Lords...

Anyway, as soon as Jack Straw got tennis elbow and the event drew to a close, the real business began. The verdict? I don't like him. There's something about him that makes me uneasy, though I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's the lingering knowledge that he was a member of the Monday Club, and no matter how far left he's turned since then (though let's be honest, New Labour isn't exactly left-wing), having that type of history is an immediate cause for suspicion.

Or maybe it's the patronising way he conducted Prime Minister's Questions yesterday. He let that "debate" about public investment go on far too long, it was utterly obvious that both Brown and Cameron were just repeating themselves, and it ended up as pointless point scoring (yes, that was pathetic too...). Bring back Betty!

Still, give the guy a chance, I suppose - it's not as if we get a say. All depends on how far he goes to reform the place. Which, inevitably, won't be far enough.

On a related note, let's hope the SNP win Michael Martin's Glasgow (East? West? Does it matter? One of them, anyway) seat. Though they'll likely have another chance soon, with a General Election on the way. On the plus side, I'll finally get a chance to vote, on the down side, the Tories are going to win. Shit. Usually, in this type of situation, I'd probably advocate an election, but not if it means the Tories get in. I genuinely don't understand why anyone would want to vote for those slimy, bloodthirsty gits.

Oh well. Maybe I'll move to Switzerland and live as a hermit for the rest of my life.

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Keep Talking

I won't lie, I doubt this will be any more regular than in recent months. Fuck it, I won't apologize, it's not as if there are any regular readers.

Anyway, death comes closer, stupid stuff happens, and nothing changes. Granted, a lot has happened since the last post, but come on. Do you really need me to tell you that the end of 8 years of total stupidity is nigh?

Wait! Was that a reference to current affairs?

Ok, I'm not going to go on about Obama - the blog title should tell you that I supported him over McCain and the Palin woman. I stayed up to watch it, yes, and I was happy with the result. I'm not one of those Obama worshippers, though. Oh no, those rallies you Americans have scare me. I mean, great public speakers holds massive uplifting rallies - what could possibly go wrong?

No, don't worry, I don't think Obama's going to invade Mexico. But I do think that people are expecting a bit much of him, and following him blindly. Let's be critical. Let's be cautious. But most of all, let's be patience. He's going to inherit one fucked up country - "change" won't come straight away. There are echoes of Jimmy Carter here, and look what happened after him.

Anyway, let's look at things more positively - Sarah "I learned my history from The Flintstones" Palin has been kept away from the White House. If you'll excuse the following terrible and hypocritical pun - thank god. If there is anyone reading this who can vote in America, know this - that woman must never be given power. Never. There is no justification to let those who ignore basic scientific fact in favour of upholding a made up story. Not to mention the whole pro-life/death penalty thing. Sorry, but that is just stupid.

Oh yeah, and the world economy is fucked. I think i'll finish by giving all the capitalists in the room a message -

We told you so.

Your Wisemen Don't Know How It Feels To Be Thick As A Brick

I'll be honest, I'd nearly forgotten about this. No problem, no regular readers. Anyway, someone at these forums I'm a member of drew my attention to this, and I thought "sod it, let's write again!"

Of course, like any good writer, I decided to look over my previous work. And what did I find? Stupid mistakes. I even spotted the cringeworthy their/they're mistake at one point. I can't be bothered to change it, but it does highlight a personality quirk, flaw, whatever you want to call it, that I have.

"Oh, I was thick back then."

I'm always saying it, or some sort of variation of it. And "back then" isn't even a long time, only a matter of months in this case. And in a few months time I'll look back over this and call myself "thick" (my word of choice for "idiotic" or "dumb", if only for the Jethro Tull reference). Is it embarrassment? I don't think so. I rarely, if ever get embarrassed; I simply don't care enough.

But I have noticed that I have a strange need to justify all my actions. That's not to say that I don't have my whimsical moments (who doesn't?), but I often find that everything I do needs some sort of excuse.

I don't think it's a guilt thing either, since most of these actions aren't anything to feel guilty over (that said, I am prone to feeling extremely guilty over nothing), but it's as if I never want to be in a situation where I don't know why I'm doing whatever I'm doing.

On the other hand, I fully accept that life has no purpose. I must simply be paranoid.

Moving swiftly on, GCSE results tomorrow, and to be honest, I don't really care. A Levels have taken a much moer important role now, and as far as I can tell, GCSEs are only good to make sure you can get into the right classes for the next year. And, without being arrogant, I'm confident I'm in already.

That said, I'll admit that I am curious about what I got, although I'll likely just say somthing like "I was thick when I took the exam." And that, other than bringing the post neatly around full circle, is the truth of it. Am I not the same person I was when I took those exams.

So do I really deserve whatever I get, be it good or bad?

"The Chances Of Anything Coming From Mars Are A Million To One," He Said, But Still They Come.

What an awful day.

Local election results released and, to my horror, the fucking Tories of all parties have done well.

Shit.

I'm completely baffled as to how anyone can vote for those swine. Labour have collapsed, which, while that would be a good thing in any other circumstance, I fear that this will just mean that the next General Election will be put off for as long as possible, and so we have ages with a weak government. Regardless of policy, a strong party is needed at the moment. With the global economic problem, having a government that's scared to act is pathetic.

And so we're left with the Tories. Thatcher-Mark-Two is ready and waiting to unleash his capitalistic bullshit upon the world. Any hope of peace that may have existed is gone, and if the American election goes the "right" way, nuclear war with Iran awaits. Great. We're all going to die.

Fiction has always loved the prospect of an apocalypse, and the end of civilisation. As I write this, I'm listening to Jeff Wayne's wonderful musical version of The War of the Worlds. Yet this isn't fiction. The Tories really are gaining power, and the only realistic candidate left in America who might avoid war - Obama - is being weakened by the stupid Democrat candidate race.

This may sound like hyperbole, but this may be the only way to convince some that something needs to be done. We are heading to a dystopia as bad as any described in fiction, and yet I cannot get the image of utopia out of my head.

Why is it that I find it easy to imagine a world without leaders, where people really are equal. Where the society is the only law and army needed. Where people don't discriminate for idiotic reasons. Where currency doesn't exist. Where there is no state, just a society that has no need for petty argument. Where help is genuinely offered with passion. Where everyone does their bit, because they want to.

The sad thing is that I know it will never happen. The futility is unbearable.

Overhead the Albatross Hangs Motionless Upon the Air

Well, hasn't this month been active? With exams coming up I'm working all the time to make sure everything goes well, and -

You can always tell when I'm lying, can't you?

Well, it wasn't all a lie. I have got major exams within the next few weeks, but try as I might, my sub-concious just won't accept it. It feels strange; I should be panicking, revising constantly, making sure I know everything, but I'm not. And I don't know why.

Is it a lack of motivation? I don't think so. I like to think that I'm a fairly driven person, more so at least than some in my classes. Having said that... I'm honest enough to admit that I procrastinate often - frequently, even. Yes, I get the job done eventually, but always perilously close to the deadline. And when there's no deadline...

Needless to say, I've reached, to use the cliché, the "quiet before the storm," and it, to be frank, sucks. Is there too much pressure on young people today? Despite this, I don't think so. Yes, the need to succeed is great, but I think the whole feeling just gets created by maturing teenagers, who are reluctant to accept they're new position.

I'll admit that I've been one of them, blaming the system when I think an essay is too long, or found a paper more difficult that others I'd taken. People really are reluctant to take the blame. No, you didn't get an "F" because the paper was hard, you got it because you didn't work.

So where does that leave me? I've just criticised my own attitude, my conciousness knowing what is "right," yet my sub-conciousness remains unchanged. I don't think any amount of revelations can truly change people's sub-concious, regardless of what the media may say. That may just be my own cynical view because I myself have never felt something I have deemed "life-changing," but I can't really speak for anyone else here.

And who will read this? No one, I expect. Certainly not those only interested in a political commentary, or those "close" to me. The first is obvious - why would a political analyst be interested in a rant about life? And the latter hardly know about this; I haven't exactly drawn much attention to it.

Is this a safe haven? Away from the eyes of locals the anonymity of the internet can read, scoff and laugh at some ranting. Isn't it strange that you cannot confide in one person, but can to six billion?

Us and Them

Another day, another stupid idea by the government. This time they want us to swear an "oath of allegiance" to the monarchy. They want us to swear? Well, in that case:

Fuck you, Ms. "Windsor".

If they seriously expect me to swear an oath to those in-bred mass-murderers, they can think again. Quite frankly, I'm outraged - insulted, even - that they even considered the notion. What does the monarchy and Britain mean to me? A nation of cheats, murderers and warmongers. The thought of people waving Union Flags happily at the thought of this "wonderful" nation literally sickens me. Yes, go on, celebrate the people who have killed so many others, and do nothing else!

And, yes, I'm aware that recently it has been the Thatchers and Blairs that have ordered the war in recent time, no fault on our perfect monarchy, right? Let's just casually ignore that they're the only ones who could have stopped any war that was to come. Oh but wait! What does the Queen do, other than regular hand exercises?

I'm optimistic that this won't go further, but I can safely say that I will never swear any such oath. I like to think that I can keep my word, and swearing this oath will be such a great act of hypocrisy that I could never show my face again. Yes, everyone's a hypocrite, but this really is that bad.

I'm not violent about it, before you wonder whether I'm about to bomb Windsor Castle. If the monarchy is truly going to be abolished, it has to happen legally. If it's done by force, that will only lead to problems between those who have different views. But if it goes through the government, then most of those against will already have had their minds changed, making for a much simpler and smoother process.

Let's show the world how a peaceful revolution can work.

Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau Yn Annwyl I Mi

Today, for those who don't know, is Dydd Gŵyl Dewi - St David's Day. And a rare religious event I'll take notice of. Why? Because, despite the obvious Christian references, it's a day to be patriotic, a day to be proud to be Welsh.

Ah, shit. Pride's a sin, isn't it, as well as being denounced by the other two "different" religions, Islam and Judaism. Well to be frank, fuck you - maybe if "God" had taken some pride in his work some of the problems on the planet wouldn't be here. But I don't want to get into another rant about religion. I've made my views clear about that before, and I'd rather not get sidetracked.

I will however rant about the importance of taking pride in your culture. I don't care what the Church thinks, pride is a good feeling. It lets us take inspiration, lets us strive to a greater goal, lets us feel a sense of accomplishment. If I'm proud of something I've done, it thickens my skin towards inevitable criticism, so that I don't decide to kill myself when someone says they don't like my sentence.

So on a day when the noteworthy patriotism of Wales is the focus, what can be taken away? Surprisingly, I think the best that can be done is to make today "just another day." Surely we should take the pride from today, and make it last? Feel as proud as we do today all year? What's wrong with taking such patriotism and retaining it, and all the positive feelings that derive from it?

Heddiw yw'r dydd i ni Cymry i sefyll lan yn erbyn gormes y Saes. Gadewch i ni ymfalchïo trwy'r flwyddyn, a rhoi'r neges i Lundain ein fod ni yn haeddi, yn barod, yn berchen ar wlad annibynnol, ar wlad rhyngwladol, ac yn barod i ymladd i dorri'r cadwyni. Mr Brown - mae'r "Ymerodraeth" Prydeinig wedi gorffen - un tasg sydd ar ôl. Un hawdd, un syml un amlwg. Rho'r wlad sydd â chymaint o ddiwylliant, hanes a iaith unigryw ei lle cyfreithlon yn y byd yn ôl. Cywirwch y rhai sy'n meddwl bod Cymru yn ran o Loegr. Cywirwch y trais a digwyddodd cymaint of flynyddoedd yn ôl.

Give Any One Species Too Much Rope And They'll Fuck It Up

Well, I've been active haven't I? Absolutely loads has happened , and I've been dying to post it, and -

Yes, ok, that's bullshit. What has happened? Nothing out of the norm; death, arguments, Fidel Castro stepping down (ok - not quite within the norm, but it deserved a mention nonetheless), no news of a Pink Floyd reunion.

However, the first point on the list, "death", unfortunately is the most common. The media is reporting that 17 teenagers have commit suicide in 13 months in a town near me, Bridgend. Admittedly, I don't think I've ever actually been there, but that's not the point - I haven't been to the Middle East either.

But it lets me talk about suicide - what a delightful subject - and its stupidity. In what way does suicide solve any problems? Am I missing something, or does it only make things worse? Oh no, I'm really sad, things aren't going my way - let's be really stupid and kick the bucket! I'll pass all the sadness on to others and waste my life. This isn't a video game; game over really is, game over.

Not to mention the selfishness of it. What a wonderfully nice thing to do - fill your friends and family with grief. Well done - not only have you wasted your won life, you've ruined someone else's as well. Aren't you going to popular in heaven.

Oh, wait. There is no heaven. Too many religions, too many different ideas, the chances that one idea is right are so slim you might as well give up trying to say what comes next. So when you've got the rope out, tied yourself nice and tight, rest assured that the bacteria can have a nice meal. And death is supposed to be making things better?

How many planets have we found? How many stellar systems? And how many have life? Let's not waste this opportunity - by the most improbable of chances, it is this set of people that have survived this long. Everyone who's (not) reading this has won one race already - and there are no races harder to win that that one. And consider the chances when you add the probability for your parents to turn out exactly like that, you realise that this life - however crap it may seem - is rare. Incomprehensibly rare.

I thought people liked preserving rare things?

The bleeding hearts and the artists make their stand.

Well, it's been a long time since the last post (happy new year, and all that crap to you). I wish I could say that I've been busy, but the truth is that I've been playing Shine On You Crazy Diamond on guitar just about every day. Yeah, it's a pathetic excuse, but at least it's true. Anyway, I broke my top E string earlier, which brings me here, with a rather different tone to the other posts.

This came up last Tuesday in a Biology class. We started a new unit, and we began with the heart and blood. All very well, four chambers of the heart, blood carries oxygen and food etc. around the body - nothing particularly mind-taxing. Then my teacher puts on some video to end the lesson. It was one of those "real life" stories, that are supposed to explain science at the same time. Anyway, the story was about some kid who had a genetic disease that wrecks the muscle tissue that he had got off his father. Then we were told how his father had died from the disease - his aorta (largest artery in the body) had split. Upon hearing this (and the lead up in the video), I go from a relatively healthy state to feeling extremely faint, and spend the break which followed the lesson trying to cool down.

This didn't bother me too much, my cynical nature could discount it as a coincidence. However during the next lesson on the Thursday, my teacher brought out a pig's heart, and dissected it. I thought nothing of it beforehand, I'd seen blood and gore before without any ill-effects. Yet again, however, I felt faint. I did a bit of research that night, and apparently this is a symptom of haemophobia.

Except I'm not afraid of blood.

I can write this blog without any ill-effects. I feel fine, despite the fact I'm picturing both events in my mind, empathising the blood element to try and provoke a reaction. Even when I feel feint, I can still comprehend what's happening, and realise that it is, as a "phobia" states - irrational to fear it. As I saw the heart come out (until I had to stop watching because I would feint had I stayed any longer), I was not afraid, and to be honest, I was looking forward to seeing it get opened up and seeing the different parts interacting. But some unconscious part of my mind decides I'm not allowed to do this.

What puzzles me most, however, is how can someone whose whole belief begins at rational thought, develop something so irrational sub-consciously? I'm no psychiatrist (and far from it), but it seems to me that there is something more going on in my head than I had previously thought.

I know I'm probably stating the obvious, but this really has been a bit of a wake up call for me. How much control do we really have over our minds? Is there anyway the conscious part of the brain defeat the sub-conscious in determine how we act and react?

Can we change?

You'd Better Watch Out, There May Be Dogs About!

Isn't religion retarded?

Why spend so much time praising some guy, naming a load of people after him, and then lock someone up for naming a stuffed toy, which just happens to have the same name? I mean in no way to be disrespectful, but something tells me that there is a flaw in the logic here...

I don't want to criticise what anyone believes; you can think what you want, who am I to stop you? But if you do chose to believe something, you have to also accept that not everyone will agree with you. Also, you should accept that sometimes you have to waken up. We are not, contrary to certain belief, living in ancient times. One of the many aspects of society is that is changes. And, if religion is to be a part of society, iit too must change.

Ah, but that would be too easy.

I don't have a problem with traditions and being "old-fashioned". I couldn't be patriotic if I did. I do, however, have a problem when people start punishing others for not following a particular tradition.

People today are too wound up in their own beliefs. Everything is taken so seriously, no wonder anything like Monty Python's Life of Brian is such a nice relief. Utopia will probably never be reached, but that is no reason not to strive for it. And a vital part in that is recognising that a certain cliché is true:

Everyone is different.

Yes, we've heard it all before. Pity no one thinks about it. If people would just accept that without definite proof, everyone will have their own theories as to why the universe is how it is. No need - nor reason - to shove your own theory down our throats. And I don't want to blame one religion in particular, nor accuse them all, but most are guilty is one way or another.

Are we such sheep that we allow these evangelists to brainwash us? Wasn't the most powerful country on Earth supposedly set up on freedom and liberty?

Then prove it.

And I shall be free.

Whoa, long break since the last post. What an exciting life I lead...

I guess it's time to comment on the complete fuck up by the government. Or not, to be honest, I don't really know what to add that hasn't been said already - what the hell was the government doing when they sent them by disc? Is e-mail to "modern" for them?

Ok, I know, you've heard it all before. Government department makes a mistake, public outcry, another mistake is made and everyone forgets about the first one. Isn't mass-media wonderful?

I'll stop there since I'm not really in a position to comment on it, since I couldn't really be arsed to listen to all their propaganda. Either way, it probes questions about the government, not so much in its members, but more in its setup.

We all know that countries are too big. How the hell does one president expect to rule a country as big and powerful as America properly? Society functions best when everyone knows each other, and can see the old cliché of "strengths" and "weaknesses" in each other. Yet how small do we want this to get? It's obvious to see that lots of smaller communities will lead to more rivalry, and therefore more war. Yet a larger community will lead to each person's view counting less and less.

I'm all for free speech and democracy, but I can't help feeling that at the moment, one person's view count for less and less. How many people actually read this blog other than myself? Very few, if any I'd imagine. And I know that this is hardly the best place to make a political standpoint, but without a vote (I'm "too young" apparently, despite the fact that I obviously have strong views, and want them heard) I have no other way to express myself. I can think of plenty of ways to rectify this (the most obvious being having anyone who wants to vote younger make a claim to the school, which decides whether the person is mature enough to be able to make his/her own decisions) but that isn't the focus of this post.

So what is the focus of the post? To prove that mankind is hopeless. No matter who we put in charge, we will feel oppressed by this person. What is "freedom"? Whatever it is, we don't have it. We may never have it. Unless of course, we're in charge. Even then, we feel limited.

Why is it that people can't be satisfied with what we have? Why can't we be happy with our current state? I probably sound like I have manic depression, but I can assure you I haven't. However, it's not hard to see that we are stuck in cages, and no one will be freed. Everyone's views are different - if everyone on Earth were to somehow read all of my posts, not a single person would agree with me. And the same goes for everyone else's views.

Still wondering why there's so much war?