A Step Into The Unknown

When I was in South America one of my cousins had a friend who could speak English whom I got to know fairly well. It became such a welcome relief to talk the native tongue after speaking woeful Spanish during my time there. I had to listen extremely attentively as the words rolled off tongues about hundred miles an hour. Then my brain would have to process these words, translate them and finally respond in a less than articulate way. It was extremely hard for me to crack jokes and in fact I would give up once a group of people would talk about things passionately. There was no way I could cope with the colloquialisms that were banded about other than ‘bien chevere’ (very cool). So when I did get to talk English it at least reminded me that I could cobble some words together and form sentences that some people could understand.

Anyhow it turns out that my cousin’s friend is now moving to Italy to improve her prospects for herself and her families. Peru is a third world country which is immediately noticeable from the streets of Lima to the villages in Moquegua. Yet it has natural riches beyond belief, a rain forest, volcanoes, a town in the mountains, gold, silver even uranium. The mismatch of the two is for another day. But I can see why young people want to go to the western world to get better lives. We do it here, our parents push us, the government encourages us by giving us loans to tempt us to go to university, hey, they even pay college students money just to attend a terms worth of classes. Unfortunately those mechanisms are not in place there because of obvious resources but the encouragement is equally apparent. What got me thinking like I am right now was that this girl who is going to Italy does not know what she is walking into. Britain is battling on the frontline to keep recession at bay, Germany are already underway whilst Italy are struggling too. Does she know this? I know she is a school teacher and accepts that she will not be one in Italy. But over there you are paid 500 soles a month for that job which equates to £125 here so you can see why even working in a factory would be appealing. I tried to put myself in her position, and immediately everything felt lonely, I have no contacts in Italy so I’d be screwed. I cannot even speak the language so alienation is something I would have to deal with. Trying to get a job, even one classed as non-skilled seems a lot harder now than it did say six years ago. I would be devastated if I came to the first world only to find it crumbling all around me and leaving me unable to find work at all. What would I do if no work was found and all the money I saved for umpteen years had been used up just living there? Emotionally it would be so taxing knowing you are trying hard but the opportunities are not appearing. And financially it would be a mess leaving me potentially homeless and vulnerable. It is such a gamble that I have nothing but the greatest admiration for her bravery in taking on this venture. I do hope that she finds work there and is able to earn money to form the foundations of a platform to move on in life in the western world. I am kind of troubled about this imminent recession but at the same time I think if someone can leave their country, friends, go to another continent in the hope of finding better work then it kind of puts my worries into perspective.

Enough of intense scrawling, the other day I was walking along listening to 6music when they dropped Sophie B. Hawkins’ Damn I wish I was your lover. Man, I love that song but had totally forgotten it existed. It made my day even though it was so cold that when I looked down my scarf had what seemed like frozen air nestled on the top of it.

Contactable

It was the afternoon lull that was responsible. The period of time when after you have eaten lunch but are still forced to work, so as a protest your body begins to shut it self down. I began to yawn and the next thing I know I’m rubbing my eyes quite hard and not paying much notice to my blurry vision as a consequence.

I only noticed what had happened after I got home from work and decided to take out my contacts. I looked in the mirror and proceeded with the ritual of dabbing my eyeball with my finger and pinching the watery lens whilst trying not to pinch my actual eyeball (something I have done many times). The left one came out with one grab but when I tried to tug at the right eye it had disappeared. At first I thought it must have fallen out at some point during the day and tried to remember if there was an occasion where this might have happened. And so I recalled the lull earlier on where I’d found my head gradually trying to meet my chest. I concluded that I must have rubbed it away from my eye ball. But where was it? Was it in the bin or lying on the floor getting trampled on by the cleaner? Nope, I had managed to dislodge the contact lens from my eye only for it to find a new home up my eye lid. I did not realise straight away having now settled down to watch some television. It was after a few minutes I kept tapping my eyelid completely ignorant that there was a foreign entity harbouring in the upper corner. Eventually the constant tapping brought me back in front of the mirror. This time I carefully pressed on my eyelid and felt the lens hunched near the top leaving me unsure on what to do. My first attempt was to try and rub it out. But this only made my eye go red and my skin burn slightly from the constant friction. It was then I realised that I needed to go up there so with my right hand I pinched my eyelid and pulled it away exposing the inners of the dark roof. I started to gag at the sight of the back of my eyeball and for a brief moment I thought it might pop out just like the girl’s did in Hostel. Having got past the freakiness and the fascination of the amount of capillaries my eyeball has around the back I began my quest for the lost lens. No matter how much I tilted my head or twisted my body I could not get sight of the thing. It was there festering while my left eye tried hard to catch sight of it, but to no avail. The only method left was to try and jam a finger up there in the hope that brute force would get the lens back. I braced myself, washed my hands again and prepared my left little finger to be the violator. As I was about to thrust it up there when I had a brainwave. If I was to fall asleep then my eye would roll backwards and there was a small chance the lens would slip back into its place. Relieved that there was another way to remove the contact without jamming one of my digits up there I headed to bed.

The next morning began badly. The lens had not moved and was still hiding somewhere in my eyelid. Annoyed that I could not go to the optometrists until after work I headed off. Ten minutes had no passed before people were asking why I was blinking so incessantly so I divulged my situation. One of my colleagues then volunteered to get it out. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should let someone prod my eyeball but I really needed the lens out of there. So I titled my head back and sure enough within a few seconds I was being shown a shrivelled little lump that had caused me so much distress.

In other news, I know it’s time to get my haircut when I start to sprout wings on the side of my head.

Fairground

I love the fair and once again it has returned, perched on the heath of Campbell Park. The love affair started when I won a gold fish after throwing three consecutive baskets when I was twelve. The man who ran the stall scowled as he shoved the clear plastic bag full of water and a little orange fish into my hand. I took it with great pleasure and a sensation of satisfaction. Although subsequently the little fish died only four days later the enthusiastic feeling did not wane. Even when my friend’s wallet slipped out of his back pocket on the Helter Skelter and when we asked to check the seat the spotty teenage guy said we couldn’t whilst openly grinning at us. And then we tried to look anyway only to be confronted by the spotty teenager’s entourage of five burly skinheads looking for trouble, my excitement of the fair continued. Why? Well, because I love all the little games scattered amongst those rather thrilling yet shabby looking rides.

I really dig going up to one of those stalls where you have to toss ringlets over prizes they cannot actually fit around. My technique is to aim for something the ringlet must fit over but I still get thwarted. Once I aimed for a bottle of Grant’s Vodka and the ringlet went over the bottle but half of the ring still hung from the bottle top. Elated at the thought of winning, the owner shook his head and explained ‘his’ rules required the ringlet to completely go over the item and touch the ground. There was no point arguing so I just walked off. Another game I enjoy is firing the pellet gun at stack of cans. The objective is to knock over all the cans with eight pellets. Even though I have played this for years I still cannot win. My best is leaving only two cans left, but they are so hard to knock over, you literally have to hit the can in the bottom left or right corner to make it topple. Otherwise it just wobbles. And to add to its difficulty all you need to do is hover over the trigger and the pellet fires. There has been many a time I considered firing at the stall owner but he always seems to be standing well away from the gun’s reach for some reason.

As for rides, I’m not too keen on the absolute terrifying ones like Gravity, where there’s nothing stopping you from falling 40ft but gravity. Those machines just look too weathered for me to risk and take the plunge. I do not fancy being on the front cover of the local paper with a photo of me splattered on the ground and some quote from a local campaigner saying ‘there will be a full investigation’. The image is too clear in my mind to make me think it is plausible. The ride I really like is the ghost train, if the owner does it correctly. I truly brick it going through a route in a tatty little cart whilst various noises explode around and random textures rub against my face. One time there was even a ‘part-time’ actor who stayed in a coffin until the cart gradually came to a halt and he flew out shouting ‘rahhh’ while I just had a heart attack and screamed back. So impressed I was with that particular ride that I procured a water pistol and went back on the ride and drenched him the next time he sprung out.

Ahhhh, I do enjoy the fairground.



I am really pleased that Barack is now president-elect. I considered writing a piece but then thought the moment is best typified by this.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=tM1XrVVVBAk

November 2010 – A McCain Alternative?

As you probably all have read or seen the UK will be supporting the US in deploying a military presence in Jordan after the US accused Iran of using aggressive force in the region. There has been no official report from the UN whether this is true but Vice President Palin considered there to be a ‘clear and evident threat’ not just in the Middle East but also the world. So far the UN has stated that guerrillas from both countries have exchanged fire over the border but nothing more. Prime Minister Cameron believes that it is imperative to stand shoulder to shoulder with the US over a matter of national security and has pledged to send 4,000 troops to the region to support the 20,000 US forces currently amassing. Although no other member country is willing to pledge any troops until the UN has assessed the situation and given a statement the US have refused to wait for the UN, as many believe will consider the conflict between separatist groups, and have declared that any enemy combatant state will suffer attacking an ally of the free world. Although President McCain does not wish to involve nuclear weapons he has refused to rule out the possibility of using them. Many people in the UK are hoping that David Cameron is able to influence the US administration into not being so forceful with Iran who have made it known they will retaliate with any means available to them should there be a US led conflict in their country.

November 2010 – An Obama Alternative?

Tensions increased in the Middle East as fighting between Jordan and Iran intensified. President Obama has personally flown to the region to help resolve the problem by controversially asking President Ahmadinejad for a face to face meeting to see if a peaceful solution can be found. Although considered an enemy state it is an unprecedented move by the president who although has not ruled out sending troops to the area will wait for the UN to finish their investigations of the region before making a decision. Prime Minister Milliband advocated the bold move, seen by many nations as foolish, to be a great opportunity to bring stability to the area. Although declaring the UK to be a staunch ally of the US it would only contribute troops to the Middle East subject to the UN endorsing such a move. The UK is still sore over the capture of British sailors in March 2007 by Iran but there is a general consensus among the public that based on previous experience it was best to wait for the UN to finish conducting their investigation. The offer is another controversial move by the maverick president who last year held talks with Kim Jung Il over establishing better relationships between the east and west. It is being noted that since coming into power two years ago the current US president is willing to talk to leaders who were once deemed part of the ‘axis of evil’ as coined by the former administration. Although not always popular few can disagree that no other president, since Bill Clinton, has the interpersonal skills to reach out to nations who were deemed nothing more than enemies of the state. If the talks go ahead between the US and Iran it is hoped that the fighting will be stopped in the meantime.

As you probably have guessed I support Obama for president. However, I did try to write this in a non partisan way based on the statements made by both candidates here http://www.ontheissues.org/John_McCain.htm and here http://www.ontheissues.org/Barack_Obama.htm. Ok, McCain supporters can say that I have written a very extreme aggressive response from their leader’s camp. But there is not much for me to work with. This scenario is very much based on how the last current Republican administration dealt with the Iraq war. Remember the weapons inspection led by Has Blix for the UN and how they did not wait and disagreed with the findings? Only to be proved wrong. John McCain is a left wing republican but it is hard not to think that the right wing republican ideology will just diminish because he is in charge. Sarah Palin his right hand man is extremely right wing so I can imagine there being many more within the party in powerful influential roles. As for Obama, he is a bit of a flash in pan and has unparalleled oratory skills amongst the American political arena. He is willing to talk to people who are considered the West’s enemies and from a European point of view that is good. The world needs leaders that don’t get hyped up with militaristic buzzwords like ‘enemy combatant’ and actually is willing to meet a different culture, engage with them and maybe even resolve the problem without parking their tanks in the ‘enemies’ back yard. For that and more reasons (my hands getting tired and I can’t write anymore) Barack has my vote. Should he get in I will keep a close eye on whether Guantanamo Bay detention camp will get shut down.

In other news, I heard The Bewlay Brothers by David Bowie for the first time the other night. That song blew me away.

A Fallen Brand

It was inevitable that Russell Brand would quit his radio show on BBC 2 today after being suspended. The apology seemed sincere only smirking at the end when he spoke of Jonathan Ross but alas there is no getting around it, his show was pretty darn good and those comments aside and the David Baddiel show, it will be missed by me. Profusely.

I first listened to those comments on my ipod after downloading the show on Sunday evening. When I heard Brand suggesting and talking in undertones about sleeping with the girl, I thought it was pretty risky but he always seems to do that. Then I hear Ross blurt out ‘he fucked your grand daughter’. I actually said ‘shit’ out loud upon hearing those words and felt a little bit embarrassed. It was over the line, and those who think it is not should try empathising in both the grandfather’s and the granddaughter’s view. If I become a grandfather the last thing I would want to hear is a man full of hi jinx retelling the tale of porking one of my progeny. What made me cringe slightly more was when they started visualising the scenario such as it was likely he’d be staring at a photograph of his granddaughter aged four as he heard his answer machine message. They pretty much fucked up big time but it was not said in a baleful manner just two guys subconsciously egging each other on.

What came next was unexpected. I presumed there would be some complaints and I thought that Brand would apologise immediately. I was lying in bed on Sunday evening trying to sleep when Steven Nolan on Radio 5Live was debating what Brand and Ross said was acceptable. It was odd that something that happened a week ago had made it onto the agenda of a radio talk show. Yet the majority of callers lambasted Brand and Ross calling for them to be sacked and stripped of their high wages. There was even some contempt in their voices when they spoke of the amount of money each one of them earns. Still I thought nothing of it. But the next morning it had reached the newspapers, the front pages even. Supplanting the current credit crunch or the US elections for something that happened on October 18th, it seemed odd. I read the news article on the BBC website that there had been a complaint made by the grandfather. I could understand why he made it. What did start to gyrate with me was the ever growing band of people complaining to the BBC. The last count was 20,000. These people did not listen to the show and hear what was said. Otherwise there would have been more than the 2 complaints made (for swearing) when the show was broadcasted. They could not have downloaded the podcast because that show had already been replaced and you cannot download old ones. My interpretation of why so many complaints were made was that many people read the papers and decided to voice their anger. Fair enough if these people did hear show and the way it was delivered with intonation and enunciation of the words used. But they did not. However, because so many of them complained it raised the stories profile and bumped it onto the agenda of the national news on television.

Only after the Prime Minister voiced his opinion did the BBC suspend Ross and Brand. Maybe it is because the BBC are still wounded over the court case they lost to the Labour government regarding the Andrew Gilligan allegations, that they felt action was required. And now Brand has quit. But I can not help but feel that it is the BBC that will lose out. It is a unique institution unrivalled through out the rest of the earth. It covers news meticulously, produces programmes on both radio and television which are superb but they have handled this issue badly. If Brand and Ross were going to be dealt with why not do it when the grandfather first complained. He and his granddaughter are the ones directly involved with the actions so they should have been suspended then. Not when 20,000 odd and the Prime Minister get involved. That only suggests that they are reacting to their fury and concern and not of the feelings of those who it does really matter. And this makes the suspension seem a façade and not genuine. Anyhow, I surmise with the belief that had Matt Morgan been there none of this would have happened. Where the hell is?


In other news, it snowed last night.

Bling Bling

I’ve come to realise that gold jewellery looks crap on me. There is no way getting around it. Gold does not suit my skin tone and when I don a chain or ring I look nothing more than a narcotics pusher trying to peddle aspirin in the guise of amphetamine. Still at least I know gold does not suit me so keep away from purchasing those huge link chains that look thick enough to be a bike lock. I can only imagine what I would look like walking down the street wearing Elizabeth Dukes’ latest range chatting people whilst parts of me twinkles against the light, what a fool I would look. In fact it is probably a good thing that I am not that bothered with male jewellery in general. There are no hours wasted perusing the Argos catalogue for annulates with ‘ICE’ etched on them with fake diamonds that resemble Rice Crispies. Instead I am happy with what I wear when the mood takes me. I own a wooden dolphin string necklace that cost £1.79 from some shop which I tend to wear at least once a week. It just lays there next to my television, there is no need to shine it and if it falls on the floor I do not need to get all flustered in case it has been scratched. In fact my dolphin is scratched but I consider it an endearing feature. No one can really see the dolphin as it’s usually tucked underneath my t-shirt/shirt. Still the bootlace is visible as a sign that although there’s a plethora of chains out there I still like to wrap a bootlace around my neck as I strut down the street. It also possesses symbolic properties to me too. Having to dress smart to work is hard for me, although I am getting used to it. Sometimes I feel fake and look like Little Lord Fontleroy in trousers and a shirt. I really wished I did not have to wear these clothes but I am still a participant in ‘the game’. It’s funny as I never really wanted to be in ‘the game’ I just sort of fell into the race and next thing I know I’m scampering along feeling unable to stop. So the little dolphin is a reminder that somewhere inside of me is the ‘true me’. The person who could spend hours listening to digital radio or BBC’s Listen Again whilst slurping on some wine, whisky or rum and still consider it productive a productive day if I hear a song that makes me think differently. But then I have to ask myself, the longer I do what I do then surely it defines who I am more than what I want to do? Ah ha, that is true and so I am slightly anxious at the truth that perhaps I secretly enjoy being in ‘the game’ while tricking myself otherwise. Luckily the little dolphin is still there to let me know I haven’t gone just yet.

In other news, I went to Edinburgh for work the other week. Being surrounded by historic buildings, castles, culture that is century’s years old, brick work that can make an architect cream his pants, this was the only photo I took of the journey and it wasn't even in Edinburgh but Luton airport.



It’s an amazing city but not once did it dawn on me to take photos of its undoubted beauty. No, instead it was when we landed and on the way to the car that I spot an abandoned wheelchair and my mind starts to think ‘quick take a picture’.