Mike Huckabee may be a good person inside, but I will not rest one day until I am absolutely certain that he will not be the next president of the United States of America. This is for a few reasons:
First, Mike Huckabee is a socially conservative Republican. Thanks to Bush, Republicans are on the downturn. Conservatism is on the downturn. Truly Conservative policies are becoming more and more scarce in the world as a whole. Socially "Conservative" parties in most first-world countries are desperately trying to take up the centre, rather than continue on a path to the right. I like this. I want to see the end of true, not centre, but true right-wing conservative parties. This is just my personal opinion, so don't bother arguing with me about it. And for everyone's information, the British Conservative Party is, in my opinion, more of a centre-centre-right party under David Cameron, and so it doesn't fall under my category of parties I want to see extinct.
Second, Mike Huckabee is a Baptist Minister with a very religious attitude toward his politics.
For one very good reason, this does not sit well with me. Church and state should, on the practical level (ie, House of Commons, as opposed to House of Lords) be completely and utterly separated. No amount of "good faith" and "moral, religious views" will ever sway my opinion of this. Unfortunately, in the nation that should be the most secular of all, Religion is on the uprise in daily life AND politics. I won't say anything about people's personal lives, but their religious beliefs should mean nothing when they run for public office.
In a TV commercial advocating his candidacy, Mike Huckabee described himself as a "Christian leader" and in a more recent ad, wished the American public "Merry Christmas". What a do*che bag! There are millions of non-Christians in America who will not be having a "Merry Christmas" due to the fact that they don't celebrate it!
Third, his positions on various issues COMPLETELY disagree with my own. This, in itself, may not mean much, but, in case you don't know Mr Huckabee's opinion of things, have a look:
Mr Huckabee...
-is against Abortion, Civil Unions, and Same-Sex Marriages. MH: "There's never been a civilisation that has rewritten what marriage and family means and survived."
-believes in the Death Penalty
-is an advocate of the War in Iraq and supports the troop surge.
-believed (in 1992, when nearly as much was known about HIV/AIDS as is known now) that AIDS patients should be isolated from the general population. From an uncredited source (I know it's bad to not cite sources, but hey, this is just a blog), 'In a 1992 statement, Huckabee advocated isolating AIDS patients from the general population. In 2007, Huckabee no longer advocates such an isolation, but he stands by his earlier view, saying that in 1992 "there was still a great deal of, I think, uncertainty about just how widespread AIDS was, how it could be transmitted. So we know more now than we did in 1992, all of us do -- hopefully." However, by 1992 it was well known that HIV/AIDS could not be spread by casual contact. In the same statement, Huckabee also opposed increasing federal funding for HIV/AIDS research and suggested that Hollywood celebrities should provide additional funds instead. Huckabee now supports additional funding for HIV/AIDS research.'
-is a denier of evolution and believes in creationism. Creationism
-believes that "homosexuality is an aberrant, unnatural, and sinful lifestyle, and we now know it can pose a dangerous public health risk."
LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST....
Mr Huckabee has credited DIVINE INTERVENTION for his success in the polls. DIVINE INTERVENTION for Christ's sake! He's doing well in the polls because the polls reflect a minority of Evangelical Christians throughout the Bible Belt. When the polls reach the important states *ahem California*, he definitely will NOT be doing well in the polls. Maybe Divine Withdrawal will be responsible for that.
I hate Mike Huckabee. I want him to disappear from the media after this presidential campaign just so that I don't have to hear about him ever again.
BUT, if he does become president, I might just go join Al-Qaeda. : )
(just kidding - I would never do that)
Monday, 24 December 2007
Sunday, 9 December 2007
The Truth About Religion (Part 1)
This day has been waiting to come... and now it's here.
I've been trying to decide how best to approach the issue of religion. I think now I've got it.
Religion is simple: it's something created by people to explain what happens to their loved ones when they die. Nothing more, nothing less. In most cases, religion involves some sort of "Supreme Being", but not all do. Some religions involve reincarnation, and the belief that all souls undergo a cycle of different lives, as different animals, before being allowed into the afterlife. Others are based around the idea that each person's soul has one life on earth to live before being judged worthy to enter the afterlife.
The former is fairer, the latter not so much so.
The reason being that a person's soul reincarnates until the karma is good enough for them to go to the afterlife, regardless of what gender or anything else that that person is in one life. In the other, you only live once, and you are what God has made you. Some monotheistic religions even discriminate against women, and I believe all of them discriminate against homosexuals.
Which brings me to my point.
I was raised Catholic. My dad being the Catholic one and my mum raised without religion, due to bad things that happened to my grandmother when she was a child. My mum did convert to Catholicism, though, and so now I am part of a family of Catholics, except for my mum's side of the family (minus my mum, of course). So now I'm enrolled in a confirmation class that supposed to prepare me for the sacrament of Confirmation in two years.
Unfortunately for my dad's Catholic side of the family, however, I have no plans to be confirmed.
My qualms with Catholicism began two years ago, mostly because of the horrible molestation cases that were rampant in the news. A year later, I read Elie Wiesel's Night, which was an amazing novel. It brought the horrors of Hitler's Nazi Germany and the labour/extermination camps home. It also made me wonder why an all-loving God would put his people through such a horrible life just for so that they might be in Heaven. Catholics preach "free will" and all that, but how free is "free will" if it means one person is free to take away every freedom known to man from millions of innocent people? Catholics and Christians preach that the freedom to be evil is necessary, and only really causes one to lose their own chance of going to Heaven, and doesn't affect others' chance of going to the Promised Land. But it really does. From evil spawns evil. Maybe, in the end, God really does know best. But history says otherwise.
Following this little run-in with God, I made my arguments to my mother, and she consented to putting me through Confirmation for one year, rather than two, before I had to make my choice about whether or not to continue this path to a life of religion (She has since "forgotten" that she said I would only have to do it for one year, and has been telling me that I'll have to go through the second year, too. This, I can assure you, will never happen). However, everything I said made no impact on my mother's own beliefs. It made me realise that I need charisma classes.
The real turning point in my revelations about God and religion came a few months ago, when I read something out of the Bible that nearly made my heart stop.
I had been raised with the belief that God loved all his wee human creations, no matter how they had been made. 1 Corinthians 6, 9-12, told me otherwise.
From that selection....
"Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral . . . nor practising homosexuals . . . will inherit the kingdom of God."
That was like a slap in the face.
I had been doubting God for some time, but it still shook me terribly on the inside.
Everything sacred I had grown up with was a lie.
That was pretty distressing.
After a while, though, new thoughts came into my mind.
What kind of an all-loving God is He that He automatically, from birth, decides that a select few of his followers will be excluded from His kingdom, regardless of the quality and fullness and goodness of the lives they had led? If God is all-loving, however, and this book is the fallacy, that still throws the entire religion and system of beliefs into question, simply because they are all based on that one book. Therefore, the God who wrote it can either not exist, or his religion can not portray him correctly. If the latter is the case, then that makes one wonder if he exists at all. In the end, we come back to the same conclusion: that God as we know him does not exist.
If he does, he is not God, but another supreme entity.
Well there goes Catholicism out the door, but what about other monotheistic religions? Judaism doesn't work because Jews believe in the same God. Islam doesn't work because it is exceptionally discriminatory and I don't align myself with any Islamic beliefs.
Where does that leave me?
With this conclusion:
Religion in all forms discriminates against certain minorities of the population, whether it intends to or not.
God as we know him does not exist.
Religion as we know it is a lie.
What we can look for after our life on this earth is only for Time to tell.
My mother brought this point to light maybe a year ago:
If we have no God or Heaven to look forward to after this life, and if we have no reason to believe that we'll see our loved ones again, what reason do we have to be good or loving? What reason do we have to love?
Although I could not answer that at the time, I can answer it now. My answer is that there isn't an answer. We are good because it is right. I am rejecting my previously-held beliefs about God, religion, and Heaven in favour of a more open approach to life and death, and I am content to be good in the hope that a universally accepting afterlife awaits me after I die.
With this approach, I do not need to believe in God to be good. I need to believe that whatever awaits me will have a just conscience, and judge me based on how I treated those around me, with kindness, patience, love, and empathy (as much as a human can), rather than what gender, sexuality or ethnicity I am.
People should be good because they know it's right, not because they fear the consequences (Hell, namely) of not being so.
Humans need to embrace themselves with an open mind and an open heart, and, while adhering to whatever beliefs they may, accept the idea that all people are born inherently free of evil, no matter what beliefs or lifestyles others may follow.
I've been trying to decide how best to approach the issue of religion. I think now I've got it.
Religion is simple: it's something created by people to explain what happens to their loved ones when they die. Nothing more, nothing less. In most cases, religion involves some sort of "Supreme Being", but not all do. Some religions involve reincarnation, and the belief that all souls undergo a cycle of different lives, as different animals, before being allowed into the afterlife. Others are based around the idea that each person's soul has one life on earth to live before being judged worthy to enter the afterlife.
The former is fairer, the latter not so much so.
The reason being that a person's soul reincarnates until the karma is good enough for them to go to the afterlife, regardless of what gender or anything else that that person is in one life. In the other, you only live once, and you are what God has made you. Some monotheistic religions even discriminate against women, and I believe all of them discriminate against homosexuals.
Which brings me to my point.
I was raised Catholic. My dad being the Catholic one and my mum raised without religion, due to bad things that happened to my grandmother when she was a child. My mum did convert to Catholicism, though, and so now I am part of a family of Catholics, except for my mum's side of the family (minus my mum, of course). So now I'm enrolled in a confirmation class that supposed to prepare me for the sacrament of Confirmation in two years.
Unfortunately for my dad's Catholic side of the family, however, I have no plans to be confirmed.
My qualms with Catholicism began two years ago, mostly because of the horrible molestation cases that were rampant in the news. A year later, I read Elie Wiesel's Night, which was an amazing novel. It brought the horrors of Hitler's Nazi Germany and the labour/extermination camps home. It also made me wonder why an all-loving God would put his people through such a horrible life just for so that they might be in Heaven. Catholics preach "free will" and all that, but how free is "free will" if it means one person is free to take away every freedom known to man from millions of innocent people? Catholics and Christians preach that the freedom to be evil is necessary, and only really causes one to lose their own chance of going to Heaven, and doesn't affect others' chance of going to the Promised Land. But it really does. From evil spawns evil. Maybe, in the end, God really does know best. But history says otherwise.
Following this little run-in with God, I made my arguments to my mother, and she consented to putting me through Confirmation for one year, rather than two, before I had to make my choice about whether or not to continue this path to a life of religion (She has since "forgotten" that she said I would only have to do it for one year, and has been telling me that I'll have to go through the second year, too. This, I can assure you, will never happen). However, everything I said made no impact on my mother's own beliefs. It made me realise that I need charisma classes.
The real turning point in my revelations about God and religion came a few months ago, when I read something out of the Bible that nearly made my heart stop.
I had been raised with the belief that God loved all his wee human creations, no matter how they had been made. 1 Corinthians 6, 9-12, told me otherwise.
From that selection....
"Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral . . . nor practising homosexuals . . . will inherit the kingdom of God."
That was like a slap in the face.
I had been doubting God for some time, but it still shook me terribly on the inside.
Everything sacred I had grown up with was a lie.
That was pretty distressing.
After a while, though, new thoughts came into my mind.
What kind of an all-loving God is He that He automatically, from birth, decides that a select few of his followers will be excluded from His kingdom, regardless of the quality and fullness and goodness of the lives they had led? If God is all-loving, however, and this book is the fallacy, that still throws the entire religion and system of beliefs into question, simply because they are all based on that one book. Therefore, the God who wrote it can either not exist, or his religion can not portray him correctly. If the latter is the case, then that makes one wonder if he exists at all. In the end, we come back to the same conclusion: that God as we know him does not exist.
If he does, he is not God, but another supreme entity.
Well there goes Catholicism out the door, but what about other monotheistic religions? Judaism doesn't work because Jews believe in the same God. Islam doesn't work because it is exceptionally discriminatory and I don't align myself with any Islamic beliefs.
Where does that leave me?
With this conclusion:
Religion in all forms discriminates against certain minorities of the population, whether it intends to or not.
God as we know him does not exist.
Religion as we know it is a lie.
What we can look for after our life on this earth is only for Time to tell.
My mother brought this point to light maybe a year ago:
If we have no God or Heaven to look forward to after this life, and if we have no reason to believe that we'll see our loved ones again, what reason do we have to be good or loving? What reason do we have to love?
Although I could not answer that at the time, I can answer it now. My answer is that there isn't an answer. We are good because it is right. I am rejecting my previously-held beliefs about God, religion, and Heaven in favour of a more open approach to life and death, and I am content to be good in the hope that a universally accepting afterlife awaits me after I die.
With this approach, I do not need to believe in God to be good. I need to believe that whatever awaits me will have a just conscience, and judge me based on how I treated those around me, with kindness, patience, love, and empathy (as much as a human can), rather than what gender, sexuality or ethnicity I am.
People should be good because they know it's right, not because they fear the consequences (Hell, namely) of not being so.
Humans need to embrace themselves with an open mind and an open heart, and, while adhering to whatever beliefs they may, accept the idea that all people are born inherently free of evil, no matter what beliefs or lifestyles others may follow.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
The British National Party (sickens me, but it's here, and it has something to say)
I am, of course, sickened by Nick Griffin and his moral policies, but, at the same time, his party has touched on a few, but not many, key issues that the current government is ignoring (whether it's due to incompetence or a full plate, we may never know). For example, exponential population growth is a real and unavoidable issue. The house-building boom cannot go on forever, and, at the moment, it is continuing largely due to immigration.
I, unlike the BNP, however, am not targeting Britain's immigrants as the centre of all British woes. I, unlike the BNP, do not support deporting immigrants who do not pass scrupulously examined legitimacy tests. I simply want to see Britain's fast-growing population slowed by the introduction of some much-needed immigration control policies. That would not entail preventing truly desperate asylum-seekers from seeing a new life in the UK come true. In fact, I believe that all asylum-seekers to any country should be granted a basic, five-year-minimum leave of residence before any question of their legitimacy is brought up. When it is, they should be given a fair interview and all aspects of their reason for seeking asylum should be examined. Private security firms should be removed from the job of deporting failed asylum-seekers because, as the media has quite plainly unveiled, they are doing a horrible job.
Another point that the BNP manifesto for this year points out is the much-reduced educational standards that are still declining - and not just in Britain. The United States is, and has been experiencing for some time, this decline. Of course, being a National party, the BNP unfairly targets immigrants as the cause of this decline.
Immigrants from poor (or poorer) countries typically have lower standards for education, so, when the immigrate to a rich country in large numbers, their expectations for schooling are lower than those of people who have been living in rich countries for multiple generations. HOWEVER, this does not inherently bring down the standards. If citizens of rich Western countries, who have been enjoying high educational standards for many years, decide to lower those standards in the name of fairness to all, they are only hurting themselves. Standards can be kept up - it only gives those lower-standards immigrants reason to catch up. If drop-out numbers increase because of this, then individual programmes within individual schools can find ways to give those certain kids with lower standards incentives to stay in school and complete their secondary and post-secondary education.
And again, most immigrants are not poor, especially since they are choosing Britain to live in. With its exceptionally strong pound sterling and high cost of living, someone moving from a poor country with a weak currency would logically most likely not choose to make a permanent or long-term move to the UK. Therefore, the immigrants that Britain does see (although, of course, people from poor countries do move to the UK; I'm not saying they don't, but...) are not at the bottom of the world financial pyramid. I don't believe that all, or even most, immigrants have low standards of education, and it's the fact that their children have to grow up in poor neighbourhoods in bad areas that causes them to lose all focus in school, and in doing so, bring down education standards simply to keep those miscreants in school.
Closing borders and deporting millions of people will not cause Britain to improve, only its people can do that [cause Britain to improve], and bringing back "O" level exams and grammar schools will keep standards up while giving parents more choice in where to have their children educated. The government's current practice of ending the grammar-school tradition that Britain has long enjoyed will not make, and is not making, parents happy when their only choice for their children's schooling is a crowded, government-run secondary school (by crowded I mean 30+ kids per classroom).
If you're reading this, saying to yourself, "This guy is a looney. He's saying exactly what the BNP wants him to say. They've just seeded another follower", think again.
Recall (or maybe you have read that post, so don't recall) that I am gay. How could a gay person, even a gay white boy, possibly play into the hands of the hard-right? They don't even want to recognise that I'm a person, so how could I possibly feel any inclination to support them?
I don't support the BNP or the National Front, or any racist, constitutionally discriminatory political parties anywhere. My point here is that certain elements of the BNP manifesto for this year highlights items that should be more visible in Western (mostly British, since I feel that the US is doomed to collapse... or at least partially) politics, such as educational reform, immigration control (but not the end of immigration), greater focus on the environment (because this earth is all that we have, and anyone standing in the way of modernised nuclear power is a dumbshit), reform of public services, including NHS reform, decongestion of airports, and reduced building of houses in hazardous places, such as flood plains, and places where the natural beauty of the land would be destroyed.
Worrying about "losing British identity" and sub-standard immigrants should not be any British Government's main concern, or even a concern at all. What the Government needs to do is see where the country needs help, and fix it. Not for the sake of re-election or politics, but for the greater good of the nation as a whole. A government represents its people and their best interests, not itself or its electability. If a government can truly better a country, they should not need to worry about whether or not they will be re-elected.
I, unlike the BNP, however, am not targeting Britain's immigrants as the centre of all British woes. I, unlike the BNP, do not support deporting immigrants who do not pass scrupulously examined legitimacy tests. I simply want to see Britain's fast-growing population slowed by the introduction of some much-needed immigration control policies. That would not entail preventing truly desperate asylum-seekers from seeing a new life in the UK come true. In fact, I believe that all asylum-seekers to any country should be granted a basic, five-year-minimum leave of residence before any question of their legitimacy is brought up. When it is, they should be given a fair interview and all aspects of their reason for seeking asylum should be examined. Private security firms should be removed from the job of deporting failed asylum-seekers because, as the media has quite plainly unveiled, they are doing a horrible job.
Another point that the BNP manifesto for this year points out is the much-reduced educational standards that are still declining - and not just in Britain. The United States is, and has been experiencing for some time, this decline. Of course, being a National party, the BNP unfairly targets immigrants as the cause of this decline.
Immigrants from poor (or poorer) countries typically have lower standards for education, so, when the immigrate to a rich country in large numbers, their expectations for schooling are lower than those of people who have been living in rich countries for multiple generations. HOWEVER, this does not inherently bring down the standards. If citizens of rich Western countries, who have been enjoying high educational standards for many years, decide to lower those standards in the name of fairness to all, they are only hurting themselves. Standards can be kept up - it only gives those lower-standards immigrants reason to catch up. If drop-out numbers increase because of this, then individual programmes within individual schools can find ways to give those certain kids with lower standards incentives to stay in school and complete their secondary and post-secondary education.
And again, most immigrants are not poor, especially since they are choosing Britain to live in. With its exceptionally strong pound sterling and high cost of living, someone moving from a poor country with a weak currency would logically most likely not choose to make a permanent or long-term move to the UK. Therefore, the immigrants that Britain does see (although, of course, people from poor countries do move to the UK; I'm not saying they don't, but...) are not at the bottom of the world financial pyramid. I don't believe that all, or even most, immigrants have low standards of education, and it's the fact that their children have to grow up in poor neighbourhoods in bad areas that causes them to lose all focus in school, and in doing so, bring down education standards simply to keep those miscreants in school.
Closing borders and deporting millions of people will not cause Britain to improve, only its people can do that [cause Britain to improve], and bringing back "O" level exams and grammar schools will keep standards up while giving parents more choice in where to have their children educated. The government's current practice of ending the grammar-school tradition that Britain has long enjoyed will not make, and is not making, parents happy when their only choice for their children's schooling is a crowded, government-run secondary school (by crowded I mean 30+ kids per classroom).
If you're reading this, saying to yourself, "This guy is a looney. He's saying exactly what the BNP wants him to say. They've just seeded another follower", think again.
Recall (or maybe you have read that post, so don't recall) that I am gay. How could a gay person, even a gay white boy, possibly play into the hands of the hard-right? They don't even want to recognise that I'm a person, so how could I possibly feel any inclination to support them?
I don't support the BNP or the National Front, or any racist, constitutionally discriminatory political parties anywhere. My point here is that certain elements of the BNP manifesto for this year highlights items that should be more visible in Western (mostly British, since I feel that the US is doomed to collapse... or at least partially) politics, such as educational reform, immigration control (but not the end of immigration), greater focus on the environment (because this earth is all that we have, and anyone standing in the way of modernised nuclear power is a dumbshit), reform of public services, including NHS reform, decongestion of airports, and reduced building of houses in hazardous places, such as flood plains, and places where the natural beauty of the land would be destroyed.
Worrying about "losing British identity" and sub-standard immigrants should not be any British Government's main concern, or even a concern at all. What the Government needs to do is see where the country needs help, and fix it. Not for the sake of re-election or politics, but for the greater good of the nation as a whole. A government represents its people and their best interests, not itself or its electability. If a government can truly better a country, they should not need to worry about whether or not they will be re-elected.
Saturday, 1 December 2007
All People Are Created Equal
It is supposed to be a basic belief held by members of today's Western society. That all people are created equal. Of course, this belief is not respected in the Middle East or parts of Asia, but that's the way that society was built up. With the belief that people are not all created equal. It's a sad fact of life.
Another sad fact of life is the lie that people live through their entire lives.
The Church says that "all people are equal in the eyes of God", the US says that "all men were created equally", and it is now defined by most of the world as a crime against humanity when certain groups of people are targeted for discrimination or persecution. If all people are created equally, however, why are people not all equal in the eyes of legislation and holy scripture?
From Corinthians 1, 6-9: "Neither the sexually immoral . . . nor practising homosexuals . . . will inherit the kingdom of God."
Clearly God is not all-loving.
In the United States, Massachusetts is the only state to have granted same-sex couples the legal right to marry, as opposed to the civil-union status granted in California, Connecticut, Hawai'i, Maine, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Oregon, Vermont, Washington state, and the District of Columbia. That's 9 states (and one district) out of 50. That's pathetic, especially in the face of the United States Constitution, which says that all people were created equal.
Most of the original European Union members states have granted same-sex unions, and a few, such as Spain, The Netherlands and Belgium, have granted marital status. Canada and South Africa join them with legislation granting the legality of same-sex marriages.
But, not only is gay marriage not legal in most of the US, gay members of the Armed Forces are not allowed to be openly gay without having their military status terminated. The Pentagon says that this is because it will "break down the solid battalion structure of the Army". Contradictingly enough, the United Kingdom allows gay people to be open in their Armed Forces, and, to date, there have been no intra-squad or battalion issues that have had to be dealt with.
To get the the essence of this post, I'm going to say that although our society would like us to believe that we believe that all people are created equally, it is evident that we don't believe that
Another sad fact of life is the lie that people live through their entire lives.
The Church says that "all people are equal in the eyes of God", the US says that "all men were created equally", and it is now defined by most of the world as a crime against humanity when certain groups of people are targeted for discrimination or persecution. If all people are created equally, however, why are people not all equal in the eyes of legislation and holy scripture?
From Corinthians 1, 6-9: "Neither the sexually immoral . . . nor practising homosexuals . . . will inherit the kingdom of God."
Clearly God is not all-loving.
In the United States, Massachusetts is the only state to have granted same-sex couples the legal right to marry, as opposed to the civil-union status granted in California, Connecticut, Hawai'i, Maine, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Oregon, Vermont, Washington state, and the District of Columbia. That's 9 states (and one district) out of 50. That's pathetic, especially in the face of the United States Constitution, which says that all people were created equal.
Most of the original European Union members states have granted same-sex unions, and a few, such as Spain, The Netherlands and Belgium, have granted marital status. Canada and South Africa join them with legislation granting the legality of same-sex marriages.
But, not only is gay marriage not legal in most of the US, gay members of the Armed Forces are not allowed to be openly gay without having their military status terminated. The Pentagon says that this is because it will "break down the solid battalion structure of the Army". Contradictingly enough, the United Kingdom allows gay people to be open in their Armed Forces, and, to date, there have been no intra-squad or battalion issues that have had to be dealt with.
To get the the essence of this post, I'm going to say that although our society would like us to believe that we believe that all people are created equally, it is evident that we don't believe that
Monday, 26 November 2007
The Melting Pot (Part 2)
And now, the brighter side of the Melting Pot story (that I hate so very very much).
If Americans could just come to the realisation that there is more to the world than the United States and Washington, DC, then it could be a much better country.
If Americans would more readily acknowledge their ancestry and heritage, their country would be more diverse and open-minded.
[ I don't know if I've told the story of my grandmother yet. She hates the fact that her ancestors came to the United States a generation after her husband, my grandfather. She thinks it makes him "more American" than her. I HATE PEOPLE LIKE THAT. ]
By accepting differences in culture... by accepting culture for that matter... America can open its eyes to the world and see how multiculturalism actually benefits the nations in which it is allowed to take place. Here, people who want to uphold their culture were forced to live in ghettos with people of similar background by the pressures of American society. That is wrong.
Even now, in the 21st century, people who are different are treated differently. Not with respect, but as outcasts. In a city of whites and Asians (mostly Chinese), people who are black or Hispanic are treated differently. Not in a cruel way... San Marino is above that... but jokingly. Joking discrimination is still discrimination. I've faced it from Asians, and they weren't joking...........
On a plane to Boston, I sat next to a Chinese boy who was part of a large group of Chinese kids taking a tour of the US. We talked for a while, and he wasn't mean or anything, but when I tried to convert centimetres to feet and inches, having forgotten the decimal conversion, I employed trial-and-error to compare our heights, since he was clearly not fluent enough in English to understand what I was trying to do. Seeing me doing random math problems that ended up just barely incorrect each time, he told me plainly that "white people don't know how to do math ha ha ha". I can tell you right now how much it pissed me off. IT PISSED ME OFF. I'm in Honours Geometry. Last year I was in Accelerated Algebra, Honours Pre-Algebra the year before that, and I was in the Honours programme for the past three years as well. Being told by some Chinese kid that I could barely understand that "white people don't know how to do math" made me want to punch him in the face.
That's way off topic, but the point is, America needs to embrace diversity, not bury it away under the false identity of the Melting Pot.
If Americans could just come to the realisation that there is more to the world than the United States and Washington, DC, then it could be a much better country.
If Americans would more readily acknowledge their ancestry and heritage, their country would be more diverse and open-minded.
[ I don't know if I've told the story of my grandmother yet. She hates the fact that her ancestors came to the United States a generation after her husband, my grandfather. She thinks it makes him "more American" than her. I HATE PEOPLE LIKE THAT. ]
By accepting differences in culture... by accepting culture for that matter... America can open its eyes to the world and see how multiculturalism actually benefits the nations in which it is allowed to take place. Here, people who want to uphold their culture were forced to live in ghettos with people of similar background by the pressures of American society. That is wrong.
Even now, in the 21st century, people who are different are treated differently. Not with respect, but as outcasts. In a city of whites and Asians (mostly Chinese), people who are black or Hispanic are treated differently. Not in a cruel way... San Marino is above that... but jokingly. Joking discrimination is still discrimination. I've faced it from Asians, and they weren't joking...........
On a plane to Boston, I sat next to a Chinese boy who was part of a large group of Chinese kids taking a tour of the US. We talked for a while, and he wasn't mean or anything, but when I tried to convert centimetres to feet and inches, having forgotten the decimal conversion, I employed trial-and-error to compare our heights, since he was clearly not fluent enough in English to understand what I was trying to do. Seeing me doing random math problems that ended up just barely incorrect each time, he told me plainly that "white people don't know how to do math ha ha ha". I can tell you right now how much it pissed me off. IT PISSED ME OFF. I'm in Honours Geometry. Last year I was in Accelerated Algebra, Honours Pre-Algebra the year before that, and I was in the Honours programme for the past three years as well. Being told by some Chinese kid that I could barely understand that "white people don't know how to do math" made me want to punch him in the face.
That's way off topic, but the point is, America needs to embrace diversity, not bury it away under the false identity of the Melting Pot.
Saturday, 24 November 2007
Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium
Yes, I know it's rated G, but since when have high schoolers not been allowed to see G-rated movies? Last night, Lauren and her gay best friend (me) went to Old Town Pasadena to see just that, a G-rated movie, at the Laemmle's there. We missed the first five or ten minutes of it, which sucks, since that also meant we missed the previews. It started off weird, but that's, again, because we missed the first few minutes. I gotta say, it was a good movie. Dustin Hoffman and Natalie Portman played their parts well, as did the little kid who played Eric (I don't know his name). Basically, if there's ever a time where you're hanging out with your (gay or otherwise) best friend and you're bored and you wanna see a film, head down to your nearest Laemmle's and see Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium (but don't really. The only reason we saw it was because we're not old enough to see R-rated ones and the rest looked especially crappy. But it was all good because Mr Magorium's was a great movie.)
Now, the reason I'm posting right now is really because I have very little else to do. I'm printing photos of one of my friends playing football (American) to sell to his mom. Not what good friends usually do, but his mom would end up forcing the money upon me somehow, so why fight it?
I also want to bring to my own attention the fact that this blog is almost because a movie-review site. Now I've got Mr Magorium, the Martian Child, and something else that isn't coming to mind right away. But I must say, they were all great films. V for Vendetta, too. That's my favourite movie of all time. This year, unfortunately, I couldn't watch it on the fifth of November, so I watched a few days prior to make up for it.
Another great video (not full-length or anything; it's only 7 minutes long) is Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása (Good Weather For Airstrikes) by Sigur Rós. It's a music video that is not yet on iTunes (and may never be on iTunes) due to its controversiality. However, it's a beautiful video that can touch the heart of any sensitive human being. I hope. Some might find it offensive or un-Godly, but, if you do decide to do a YouTube search for it (and I can guarantee it'll come up), just keep and open mind and try, try, to be mature. That's something I hate above all. Immaturity. It pisses me off. Especially beer-belly, bald, Middle American white men who are in their forties or fifties and still haven't learned to grow up. It repulses me.
Now, the reason I'm posting right now is really because I have very little else to do. I'm printing photos of one of my friends playing football (American) to sell to his mom. Not what good friends usually do, but his mom would end up forcing the money upon me somehow, so why fight it?
I also want to bring to my own attention the fact that this blog is almost because a movie-review site. Now I've got Mr Magorium, the Martian Child, and something else that isn't coming to mind right away. But I must say, they were all great films. V for Vendetta, too. That's my favourite movie of all time. This year, unfortunately, I couldn't watch it on the fifth of November, so I watched a few days prior to make up for it.
Another great video (not full-length or anything; it's only 7 minutes long) is Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása (Good Weather For Airstrikes) by Sigur Rós. It's a music video that is not yet on iTunes (and may never be on iTunes) due to its controversiality. However, it's a beautiful video that can touch the heart of any sensitive human being. I hope. Some might find it offensive or un-Godly, but, if you do decide to do a YouTube search for it (and I can guarantee it'll come up), just keep and open mind and try, try, to be mature. That's something I hate above all. Immaturity. It pisses me off. Especially beer-belly, bald, Middle American white men who are in their forties or fifties and still haven't learned to grow up. It repulses me.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
The Melting Pot (Part 1)
The truth of the matter is that Americanism promotes the idea and belief that immigrants should come together and cast off their national and ethnic heritage in favour of a "better", "more perfect" identity that is American.
Why, I ask, should people who choose to live in this country be pressured to do such a thing? My 8th grade history teacher has all the answers.
"America is a society where people come and live together, work together, associate. If conflicting beliefs and customs impede this, newcomers cannot assimilate and become part of the greater society."
Elizabeth Goldstein was a fanatic about not discriminating or prejudging. She pushed all of her already diverse and equal-minded students through a "Tolerance Unit" at the end of the year, which, in itself is not bad - in fact, it's wonderful - but her strongly voiced views about a better American society were ill-founded and stank terribly of the stereotypical (but almost typical) views of Americans, dating back to the end of American protectionism. My grandmother is the exact same way. Even in other countries, she naïvely tries to communicate in ways that best suit her, rather than trying to adapt to her surroundings. (I can't even begin to tell you some of the stories I have of her, from Germany to Japan). She has total, complete confidence in the establishment, and believes that it would have already failed if there was something wrong with it. In my eyes, it has failed.
Ms Goldstein would tell us how the prevalent "Melting Pot" theory of how America should be is the best one, and how Chinese immigrants, not willing to "melt" into society were targeted by anti-immigrant reformers to explain why the borders should be closed to middle-to-lower class Chinese. It worked. They did close the borders to Chinese, only to open them once more in the face of anti-discrimination protests.
I do feel that the Chinese can try inexplicably hard to stay away from other ways of life, and believe that, even in America, they must create ghettos for themselves in order to maintain their culture. I don't like this, or agree with it, but I feel that they did, in the past, have to do that for themselves, because they saw themselves presented with two choices: isolate yourselves, or assimilate. That's absurd and untrue, most of the time. I think that, maybe, if the Chinese immigrants in years past had been given a more welcome place in the United States, it wouldn't have been a problem. Unfortunately, I also believe that not assimilating is imbedded in the Chinese (or more broadly, Asian) mindset.
Before I continue, I want to point out that I live in San Marino, California, home to WASPs and Asians. My school is 70% Asian. I'm not writing this to show why Asians should all be targeted for murder and why they're inferior, but to make a point regarding the melting pot. I don't have anything against Asians in general; one of my best friends is Chinese. It's just that their mindset, to study at unreasonable levels the various maths and not learn to speak English is what drives me up a wall. In my honours geometry class, one of the students goes to see her tutor for 17 hours a week. And guess what? It's all math! Not one little bit of English, Science, or foreign language (other than Chinese). She's taken geometry at her tutor three times already. Another Chinese classmate of mine has already taken calculus.
I'm not saying it's inherently wrong to try and get ahead, but this is outrageous. It pushes the standards for everyone else up way too high, and creates an ultra-literal, super-competative learning environment, which is absolutely NOT GOOD.
I think that all of that could be avoided if these first and second generation Chinese immigrants would take the time to learn about the culture and learn the language of their new home (which, in Southern California, is increasingly becoming Spanish).
That's all for Part 1; Part 2, which is the brighter side of the story, is next.
Why, I ask, should people who choose to live in this country be pressured to do such a thing? My 8th grade history teacher has all the answers.
"America is a society where people come and live together, work together, associate. If conflicting beliefs and customs impede this, newcomers cannot assimilate and become part of the greater society."
Elizabeth Goldstein was a fanatic about not discriminating or prejudging. She pushed all of her already diverse and equal-minded students through a "Tolerance Unit" at the end of the year, which, in itself is not bad - in fact, it's wonderful - but her strongly voiced views about a better American society were ill-founded and stank terribly of the stereotypical (but almost typical) views of Americans, dating back to the end of American protectionism. My grandmother is the exact same way. Even in other countries, she naïvely tries to communicate in ways that best suit her, rather than trying to adapt to her surroundings. (I can't even begin to tell you some of the stories I have of her, from Germany to Japan). She has total, complete confidence in the establishment, and believes that it would have already failed if there was something wrong with it. In my eyes, it has failed.
Ms Goldstein would tell us how the prevalent "Melting Pot" theory of how America should be is the best one, and how Chinese immigrants, not willing to "melt" into society were targeted by anti-immigrant reformers to explain why the borders should be closed to middle-to-lower class Chinese. It worked. They did close the borders to Chinese, only to open them once more in the face of anti-discrimination protests.
I do feel that the Chinese can try inexplicably hard to stay away from other ways of life, and believe that, even in America, they must create ghettos for themselves in order to maintain their culture. I don't like this, or agree with it, but I feel that they did, in the past, have to do that for themselves, because they saw themselves presented with two choices: isolate yourselves, or assimilate. That's absurd and untrue, most of the time. I think that, maybe, if the Chinese immigrants in years past had been given a more welcome place in the United States, it wouldn't have been a problem. Unfortunately, I also believe that not assimilating is imbedded in the Chinese (or more broadly, Asian) mindset.
Before I continue, I want to point out that I live in San Marino, California, home to WASPs and Asians. My school is 70% Asian. I'm not writing this to show why Asians should all be targeted for murder and why they're inferior, but to make a point regarding the melting pot. I don't have anything against Asians in general; one of my best friends is Chinese. It's just that their mindset, to study at unreasonable levels the various maths and not learn to speak English is what drives me up a wall. In my honours geometry class, one of the students goes to see her tutor for 17 hours a week. And guess what? It's all math! Not one little bit of English, Science, or foreign language (other than Chinese). She's taken geometry at her tutor three times already. Another Chinese classmate of mine has already taken calculus.
I'm not saying it's inherently wrong to try and get ahead, but this is outrageous. It pushes the standards for everyone else up way too high, and creates an ultra-literal, super-competative learning environment, which is absolutely NOT GOOD.
I think that all of that could be avoided if these first and second generation Chinese immigrants would take the time to learn about the culture and learn the language of their new home (which, in Southern California, is increasingly becoming Spanish).
That's all for Part 1; Part 2, which is the brighter side of the story, is next.
Sunday, 18 November 2007
For anyone who cares...
I may have stated at some point that I talked to one of my dad's clients, who told me about his attendance of the LSE, and how it really opened up my eyes to the sheer number of possible universities that I could potentially attend in the UK.
Watching Michael Moore's "Sicko" on the plane home did nothing to stop me from wanting to make a permanent move to the United Kingdom. What with the NHS, world-renowned universities, its culture, and the people there, how could one possibly want to live out their life in such a country as the United States? Not I. It's my belief that the US healthcare system has been moulded into place, with no chance of morphing into a socialised system. Hillary Clinton tried a few years ago, but it failed miserably. Whatever the case, the United States is a sinking ship, and I want to be the first one off it (that could be pretty tough, however, since I'm still legally bound to my parents for three and half years more, and there are bound to be others leaving the country before I'll get a chance to, but you know what I mean). I've had to endure a childhood of ultra-Americanism from my grandmother, I've been given the "I know it's screwed up, but your family's here, so you have to stay" speech from my mother, and, even from my Scottish granddad, I've heard the "but the weather's so good here" spiel. But I don't care what they say. I'm going to make absolutely sure that I'm out of this country as soon as possible, which is probably late summer after my senior year of high school. When five years in the UK is up, I'll apply for citizenship, and (hopefully :]) be granted it.
That's my plan for life: get out of the US, get into the UK, live my life in a nation that, in my view, sits on top of the world
Watching Michael Moore's "Sicko" on the plane home did nothing to stop me from wanting to make a permanent move to the United Kingdom. What with the NHS, world-renowned universities, its culture, and the people there, how could one possibly want to live out their life in such a country as the United States? Not I. It's my belief that the US healthcare system has been moulded into place, with no chance of morphing into a socialised system. Hillary Clinton tried a few years ago, but it failed miserably. Whatever the case, the United States is a sinking ship, and I want to be the first one off it (that could be pretty tough, however, since I'm still legally bound to my parents for three and half years more, and there are bound to be others leaving the country before I'll get a chance to, but you know what I mean). I've had to endure a childhood of ultra-Americanism from my grandmother, I've been given the "I know it's screwed up, but your family's here, so you have to stay" speech from my mother, and, even from my Scottish granddad, I've heard the "but the weather's so good here" spiel. But I don't care what they say. I'm going to make absolutely sure that I'm out of this country as soon as possible, which is probably late summer after my senior year of high school. When five years in the UK is up, I'll apply for citizenship, and (hopefully :]) be granted it.
That's my plan for life: get out of the US, get into the UK, live my life in a nation that, in my view, sits on top of the world
Saturday, 17 November 2007
I don't have a title for this post
Recently, I acquired a comment that, although not outright, did not do anything to help my mood. If anyone feels like making a political correction comment (that is, correcting whatever I may say about politics... for example, giving the wrong name for a political party...), just tell me what I did wrong and let me fix it, especially if it's a mistake that could be easily made by someone that doesn't spend all day reading about Scottish politics.
To the kind gentleman who corrected me...
I'm not telling you to stop commenting my posts, just please make the comments less... less uppity sounding. The comment, although perhaps - perhaps - well intended, came out sounding derogatory. I want you to know that I am NOT unintelligent. I won't venture to say that I'm smarter than you, because I don't know if I am, BUT, with little mistakes like that, just avoid writing the pompous-sounding comments of correction like that which you recently composed.
Thank you
And if you find this insulting in any way (I assure you it was not meant to insult... merely to awaken), by all means, boycott this blog, but don't say anything more.
To the kind gentleman who corrected me...
I'm not telling you to stop commenting my posts, just please make the comments less... less uppity sounding. The comment, although perhaps - perhaps - well intended, came out sounding derogatory. I want you to know that I am NOT unintelligent. I won't venture to say that I'm smarter than you, because I don't know if I am, BUT, with little mistakes like that, just avoid writing the pompous-sounding comments of correction like that which you recently composed.
Thank you
And if you find this insulting in any way (I assure you it was not meant to insult... merely to awaken), by all means, boycott this blog, but don't say anything more.
A Random Act of Kindness
Continuing from a previous theme...
I was walking into the Tube station at Victoria Station after purchasing The Independent (an excellent newspaper to rival The Economist) when I noticed a rather elderly lady with a walker trying to make her way down the stairs and into the Underground. She was having a bit of trouble, though, because (1) she was frail and the walker, which she would have had to carry herself, was more than half her size, (2) there was an exceptionally large black man talking on his cell phone about two steps down from her, leaning against the handrail, and (3) the whole stair leading down was packed with people, so there was no easy way to go around. She obviously needed the rail, but the man was taking absolutely no notice of her. The old woman was tentative, unsure of how she should best approach the menacing downward climb.
Out of the blue, and at exactly the right time, a young woman with blue jeans and a dark brown vest, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail (at least, I think it was), made her way back up the stairs toward the older lady. She asked her if she needed help carrying the walker. The answer was yes, with a heartfelt thank you and twinkling eyes. This help from the kind stranger gave her more freedom to manoeuvre around the obstructive black man.
The two women made their way to the bottom of the stair, at which point the younger of the two gave back to the other her walker.
Seeing this random act of kindness warmed my heart, simply because the young woman really had no need to try and push against the crowd to help someone who, in all odds, she would never see again. The fact is, the young woman did help she who needed it. When no one else knew or cared, she stepped in and did something so simple, but yet so immensely beneficial to the older woman.
The power that such simple deeds have to move someone's heart is amazing. It makes me wonder whether I would have done the same as that girl had she not been there. To think that I might not have is appalling.
If everyone could act as that girl in the Tube did, I am sure this world would be a much better, much happier, and much kinder place.
I was walking into the Tube station at Victoria Station after purchasing The Independent (an excellent newspaper to rival The Economist) when I noticed a rather elderly lady with a walker trying to make her way down the stairs and into the Underground. She was having a bit of trouble, though, because (1) she was frail and the walker, which she would have had to carry herself, was more than half her size, (2) there was an exceptionally large black man talking on his cell phone about two steps down from her, leaning against the handrail, and (3) the whole stair leading down was packed with people, so there was no easy way to go around. She obviously needed the rail, but the man was taking absolutely no notice of her. The old woman was tentative, unsure of how she should best approach the menacing downward climb.
Out of the blue, and at exactly the right time, a young woman with blue jeans and a dark brown vest, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail (at least, I think it was), made her way back up the stairs toward the older lady. She asked her if she needed help carrying the walker. The answer was yes, with a heartfelt thank you and twinkling eyes. This help from the kind stranger gave her more freedom to manoeuvre around the obstructive black man.
The two women made their way to the bottom of the stair, at which point the younger of the two gave back to the other her walker.
Seeing this random act of kindness warmed my heart, simply because the young woman really had no need to try and push against the crowd to help someone who, in all odds, she would never see again. The fact is, the young woman did help she who needed it. When no one else knew or cared, she stepped in and did something so simple, but yet so immensely beneficial to the older woman.
The power that such simple deeds have to move someone's heart is amazing. It makes me wonder whether I would have done the same as that girl had she not been there. To think that I might not have is appalling.
If everyone could act as that girl in the Tube did, I am sure this world would be a much better, much happier, and much kinder place.
I Bid Adieu To Some Of You (And To Others, I Say Hello)
Merely saying what I'm about to say will most likely cause some, most, or all, of my current "readers" to leave me. The reason is that what I'm about to say is a touchy and rather controversial subject. Before continuing, I would like you (the reader, whoever you may be) to take a moment to say to yourself, "I'm reading this guy's blog because he wrote something interesting that I want to read". And remember that. Of course, this may be the first post that you read of mine, and if that's the case, I might scare you off. But for others, I want you to know that although I may try, nothing I can say can really change your mind about anything. You have to do that yourself. I think, perhaps, that humanity was conditioned to be prejudiced, unforgiving, and intolerant (I know that I'm intolerant... but I'm only intolerant of careless slobs who have every capability of cleaning up after themselves but don't), and if this is the case, then those who can feel empathy must do so, and try to imagine what it could be like to be someone else, anyone else.
Something that gets under my skin is when people I know, or even people I don't know, put themselves and their goals first, before giving a thought to the nameless people around them. On the subway, people push in front of others to get on the train first, so that they might not have to wait an extra minute for the next one. When I'm with my family, and my sister stands on the left side of the escalator instead of the right, thereby preventing people from walking down at a quicker pace, I pull her to the side, only to receive admonishment from my mother, who tells me that I have a tendency to make sure that people I don't know at all are comfortable, at the expense of the people I'm closest to. This may be, but you don't get anywhere, whether it be with close friends and relatives, or people you've barely (or never) met, by not giving consideration to those that you merely see in passing.
The night I saw Spamalot, my family sat in row F, in the stalls, directly in front of a group of little kids with their mothers. The eldest (who happened to be the only girl) couldn't have been more than 8, and that's pushing it. The boys were all much younger. When my family sat down, one of them said that they couldn't see, and his mother tried to rearrange them. The problem was that in their row, the little kids were sitting to the left, and in my row, my parents were sitting to the left. Big people in front of little people. I told my mother and father to switch with my sister and I so that the little kids could see, and it would have been fine if my mother hadn't decided to move one seat to the right, rather than actually swap with my sister and I. I asked the girl, who was sitting behind me, if she could see, and she said yes, but I couldn't help wondering if the boy behind my mother could see.
After the intermission, I made sure that my sister and I sat to the far left, in front of the little ones, so that my parents would be in front of their mothers. Unfortunately for me, there were two big-headed old folks in front of me that impeded my view, especially since I was slouching down in the chair. The reason for my slouching was so that the tiny little boy behind me would be able to get the most out of the show. I know how it is for some large head to get in the way of my enjoyment of a show, and I didn't want to make that kid suffer for something that I could easily have remedied.
This may sound like a big "look at me, I'm so caring and respectful and I always put others first" type of thing, but it's not. Honestly, I don't always put others first (usually that means my sister, or my parents). I'm just trying to impress on you that, as a person in a place of power or influence, whenever it may be (and it may not be all the time), try your best to understand what might be going on for that other person, who may not be able to quickly divert a problem that's coming for them. Have Sympathy
Now that I've put you through that, hopefully with some positive affect, I'll tell you what I meant to say in writing this post.
Since I was... 12 or 13, I realised that I was quite different from my friends. (You may be able to see where this is going). In fact, by the time I was nearing the age of 14, I had told myself quite plainly what it was that I am. However, it didn't really mean anything (I can see now) as long as I was the only one who knew. Now, I am naturally a very self-sustaining person. Most things I can figure out myself, or otherwise teach myself to understand (outside of school, of course. I would never get anywhere trying to teach myself geometry or French). I can live by myself for days on end (yes, it would be boring, but I wouldn't even begin to go crazy from lack of company). As you can probably imagine, keeping a secret that only I know couldn't be that hard. What was hard, was telling someone else.
I finally decided that, at the Coronation Ball (the first dance of the year where the Homecoming Queen and Princesses are announced), I would take my best friend, a girl who I met way back when I was 10. The dance was okay, nothing special. I was pressured to dance several times, many of those times from Gracie, the friend that I took to Coro. Dancing just isn't my thing.
At around 2200, I think, I pulled Gracie off the dance floor and out onto the front lawn of the mansion where the dance was held. A good distance from anyone else, I told her what I'm about to tell you.
That I'm gay.
It was really hard to tell her, of course, me being the solitary that I am. Now, more than a month after that, I really couldn't be happier that she knows. Not keeping that secret is probably the most important thing that I've done in my life so far. She took it very well, like a true friend (how cheesy that sounds... how about... "like a true companion"? Yes, that sounds better). She's stood by my side, keeping my silence, and letting me be who I am. Not freaking out or condemning me to hell or breaking off our friendship proved her to be the amazing person that she is.
Of course, this all leads back to me saying that everyone needs to have sympathy, and, if possible (because I know that it really isn't for some) empathy. I am in a position where I can say that prejudice and antipathy are painful and completely out-dated. Or, at least, they should be.
Something that gets under my skin is when people I know, or even people I don't know, put themselves and their goals first, before giving a thought to the nameless people around them. On the subway, people push in front of others to get on the train first, so that they might not have to wait an extra minute for the next one. When I'm with my family, and my sister stands on the left side of the escalator instead of the right, thereby preventing people from walking down at a quicker pace, I pull her to the side, only to receive admonishment from my mother, who tells me that I have a tendency to make sure that people I don't know at all are comfortable, at the expense of the people I'm closest to. This may be, but you don't get anywhere, whether it be with close friends and relatives, or people you've barely (or never) met, by not giving consideration to those that you merely see in passing.
The night I saw Spamalot, my family sat in row F, in the stalls, directly in front of a group of little kids with their mothers. The eldest (who happened to be the only girl) couldn't have been more than 8, and that's pushing it. The boys were all much younger. When my family sat down, one of them said that they couldn't see, and his mother tried to rearrange them. The problem was that in their row, the little kids were sitting to the left, and in my row, my parents were sitting to the left. Big people in front of little people. I told my mother and father to switch with my sister and I so that the little kids could see, and it would have been fine if my mother hadn't decided to move one seat to the right, rather than actually swap with my sister and I. I asked the girl, who was sitting behind me, if she could see, and she said yes, but I couldn't help wondering if the boy behind my mother could see.
After the intermission, I made sure that my sister and I sat to the far left, in front of the little ones, so that my parents would be in front of their mothers. Unfortunately for me, there were two big-headed old folks in front of me that impeded my view, especially since I was slouching down in the chair. The reason for my slouching was so that the tiny little boy behind me would be able to get the most out of the show. I know how it is for some large head to get in the way of my enjoyment of a show, and I didn't want to make that kid suffer for something that I could easily have remedied.
This may sound like a big "look at me, I'm so caring and respectful and I always put others first" type of thing, but it's not. Honestly, I don't always put others first (usually that means my sister, or my parents). I'm just trying to impress on you that, as a person in a place of power or influence, whenever it may be (and it may not be all the time), try your best to understand what might be going on for that other person, who may not be able to quickly divert a problem that's coming for them. Have Sympathy
Now that I've put you through that, hopefully with some positive affect, I'll tell you what I meant to say in writing this post.
Since I was... 12 or 13, I realised that I was quite different from my friends. (You may be able to see where this is going). In fact, by the time I was nearing the age of 14, I had told myself quite plainly what it was that I am. However, it didn't really mean anything (I can see now) as long as I was the only one who knew. Now, I am naturally a very self-sustaining person. Most things I can figure out myself, or otherwise teach myself to understand (outside of school, of course. I would never get anywhere trying to teach myself geometry or French). I can live by myself for days on end (yes, it would be boring, but I wouldn't even begin to go crazy from lack of company). As you can probably imagine, keeping a secret that only I know couldn't be that hard. What was hard, was telling someone else.
I finally decided that, at the Coronation Ball (the first dance of the year where the Homecoming Queen and Princesses are announced), I would take my best friend, a girl who I met way back when I was 10. The dance was okay, nothing special. I was pressured to dance several times, many of those times from Gracie, the friend that I took to Coro. Dancing just isn't my thing.
At around 2200, I think, I pulled Gracie off the dance floor and out onto the front lawn of the mansion where the dance was held. A good distance from anyone else, I told her what I'm about to tell you.
That I'm gay.
It was really hard to tell her, of course, me being the solitary that I am. Now, more than a month after that, I really couldn't be happier that she knows. Not keeping that secret is probably the most important thing that I've done in my life so far. She took it very well, like a true friend (how cheesy that sounds... how about... "like a true companion"? Yes, that sounds better). She's stood by my side, keeping my silence, and letting me be who I am. Not freaking out or condemning me to hell or breaking off our friendship proved her to be the amazing person that she is.
Of course, this all leads back to me saying that everyone needs to have sympathy, and, if possible (because I know that it really isn't for some) empathy. I am in a position where I can say that prejudice and antipathy are painful and completely out-dated. Or, at least, they should be.
Friday, 16 November 2007
Spamalot
SPAMALOT WAS AWESOME!
I loved it!
I saw it tonight (the 16th) at Palace Theatre in Soho, London. The cast was great, there were no problems (save one - I honestly thought it was part of the show until it dragged on for 20 minutes...), the lighting and sound was perfect, and it was in a theatre full of Englishmen. What could be better?
Behind me, there were two mothers and their children. They were all very young: probably all under 8, except for the eldest, the only girl, who could have been 8. The little boys were all really cute, talking about the show during the intermission and the unintended interruption with no real clue about what was going on since they had most likely never seen the movies or TV show. I, for one, have seen all the movies except the Meaning of Life, which wasn't supposed to be that great anyway, and I've seen every episode of the Flying Circus. I actually own the whole collection on DVD. They were amazing comedians, those Pythons. Of course, the humour was better, drier, in the real thing (the movies and TV show, not the musical), but the stage production was funny, well thought-out, and above all, funny. That's the most important thing. I would definitely see it again, but maybe after a few months during which time I've been able to watch the Holy Grail and the Life of Brian over again just to get the real thing once more.
It was a great show.
Another musical that I'm fond of, but which I haven't seen since I was eleven, is Les Misérables.
That is a great show.
I've read the book (unabridged. It's 1463 pages long, but I read the whole thing) and bought the soundtrack.
Really wonderful story worth hearing and seeing again and again and again and again and again......
I loved it!
I saw it tonight (the 16th) at Palace Theatre in Soho, London. The cast was great, there were no problems (save one - I honestly thought it was part of the show until it dragged on for 20 minutes...), the lighting and sound was perfect, and it was in a theatre full of Englishmen. What could be better?
Behind me, there were two mothers and their children. They were all very young: probably all under 8, except for the eldest, the only girl, who could have been 8. The little boys were all really cute, talking about the show during the intermission and the unintended interruption with no real clue about what was going on since they had most likely never seen the movies or TV show. I, for one, have seen all the movies except the Meaning of Life, which wasn't supposed to be that great anyway, and I've seen every episode of the Flying Circus. I actually own the whole collection on DVD. They were amazing comedians, those Pythons. Of course, the humour was better, drier, in the real thing (the movies and TV show, not the musical), but the stage production was funny, well thought-out, and above all, funny. That's the most important thing. I would definitely see it again, but maybe after a few months during which time I've been able to watch the Holy Grail and the Life of Brian over again just to get the real thing once more.
It was a great show.
Another musical that I'm fond of, but which I haven't seen since I was eleven, is Les Misérables.
That is a great show.
I've read the book (unabridged. It's 1463 pages long, but I read the whole thing) and bought the soundtrack.
Really wonderful story worth hearing and seeing again and again and again and again and again......
The University of Edinburgh
[16 November 2007 - 0700]
Continuing from last night....
Oh, by the way, right now I'm getting ready to go get a tour of Lloyd's of London from one of my dad's clients. It should be very cool. You know what Lloyd's is, right? It's a collection of insurance firms that started a long, long time ago in London, insuring ships that crossed the Atlantic to go seek out the New World. Now it's world-famous and sits in a gigantic, amazing building right next to Leadenhall Market in the Monument Square area of the City of London.
.... Yesterday, I saw the University of Edinburgh, which is, and has been for some time, the school at which I wish to receive my post-secondary education. The campus is spread throughout the city, and the housing is as well, which is very interesting. There are two main blocks of the school, though, and those are the King's Buildings, which are a short distance out of the city to the south, and is where the Science and Math colleges are. The other is George Square, where most of the language and humanities are located.
Whilst there, I was able to meet with the admissions officer for US students, and she told me everything I need to know. It sounds like an AMAZING school and I honestly can't wait for high school to end because I'm DYING to go to school there. There, or maybe....
[16 November 2007 - 2132]
Today, as previously stated, I got to go and get a tour of Lloyd's of London. Unfortunately, we got on the wrong tour, and the guy that my dad talked to who was supposed to give us the tour was hurt, but, being a very nice man, he wasn't too fussed. As soon as my dad discovered our blunder, which wasn't until after our tour with another, equally kind although rather older man, we called up Jim (the guy my dad had originally made the plans with) and worked out a way to meet with him later. Around 1400, we met him in the lobby at Lloyd's and then sat down and talked in the café they have there. I must say, he is an exceptionally wonderful person with endless things to talk about. We discussed everything from sports to my sister's future career, and what my mother and sister and I had done in Edinburgh the few days previously. We talked about how I went and saw the University of Edinburgh, and he immediately brought his alma mater, LSE (London School of Economics), into the discussion. Of course, being a graduate of a ridiculously prestigious and well-known college, he gave way to the "my school is better than yours" (or, in this case, "my school is better than that one", seeing as Edinburgh is not yet mine) air and manner of being. But that's fine by me, because I still have a lot of research to do (and years to live) before I'll be admitted to any university. Knowing about LSE and University of Edinburgh (and now Imperial College, which is where his son is attending) will help me make a more well-rounded and better educated choice on colleges to apply to.
That's all for now.
I've got other things to attend to... things that are more important than my blog :)
Continuing from last night....
Oh, by the way, right now I'm getting ready to go get a tour of Lloyd's of London from one of my dad's clients. It should be very cool. You know what Lloyd's is, right? It's a collection of insurance firms that started a long, long time ago in London, insuring ships that crossed the Atlantic to go seek out the New World. Now it's world-famous and sits in a gigantic, amazing building right next to Leadenhall Market in the Monument Square area of the City of London.
.... Yesterday, I saw the University of Edinburgh, which is, and has been for some time, the school at which I wish to receive my post-secondary education. The campus is spread throughout the city, and the housing is as well, which is very interesting. There are two main blocks of the school, though, and those are the King's Buildings, which are a short distance out of the city to the south, and is where the Science and Math colleges are. The other is George Square, where most of the language and humanities are located.
Whilst there, I was able to meet with the admissions officer for US students, and she told me everything I need to know. It sounds like an AMAZING school and I honestly can't wait for high school to end because I'm DYING to go to school there. There, or maybe....
[16 November 2007 - 2132]
Today, as previously stated, I got to go and get a tour of Lloyd's of London. Unfortunately, we got on the wrong tour, and the guy that my dad talked to who was supposed to give us the tour was hurt, but, being a very nice man, he wasn't too fussed. As soon as my dad discovered our blunder, which wasn't until after our tour with another, equally kind although rather older man, we called up Jim (the guy my dad had originally made the plans with) and worked out a way to meet with him later. Around 1400, we met him in the lobby at Lloyd's and then sat down and talked in the café they have there. I must say, he is an exceptionally wonderful person with endless things to talk about. We discussed everything from sports to my sister's future career, and what my mother and sister and I had done in Edinburgh the few days previously. We talked about how I went and saw the University of Edinburgh, and he immediately brought his alma mater, LSE (London School of Economics), into the discussion. Of course, being a graduate of a ridiculously prestigious and well-known college, he gave way to the "my school is better than yours" (or, in this case, "my school is better than that one", seeing as Edinburgh is not yet mine) air and manner of being. But that's fine by me, because I still have a lot of research to do (and years to live) before I'll be admitted to any university. Knowing about LSE and University of Edinburgh (and now Imperial College, which is where his son is attending) will help me make a more well-rounded and better educated choice on colleges to apply to.
That's all for now.
I've got other things to attend to... things that are more important than my blog :)
Thursday, 15 November 2007
Edinburgh...
The name says it all.... but hardly. I mean, what does the name "Edinburgh" really say about the city, other than the fact that it's European? Well, Edinburgh is the capitol of Scotland, seat of the Scottish Parliament, home to Edinburgh Castle, the University of Edinburgh, a monument for Sir Walter Scott, Waverly Station (which, although decent on the inside, has a horrid draft in the cold months... well, the warm months, too, I suppose), and the Dunedin Guest House, which is the B&B that I stayed in.
Whilst in Edinburgh, I got to eat at a lovely Japanese restaurant that served halfway decent food (that I was not partial to, unfortunately, but the ambience was nice) and wonderful lemonade. I also ate at the Chocolate Soup sandwich shop, which was great, although I don't recommend the white chocolate hot chocolate; it just doesn't taste the way hot chocolate should, and that's coming from a fan of white chocolate.
The Palace of Holyroodhouse, on the east end, or bottom, of the Royal Mile (a long road that goes through Edinburgh connecting the Palace of Holyroodhouse on one end to the Castle of Edinburgh on the other) was amazing... very Queenly and full of historic British (it's funny... it took me 8 tries to get the word "British" spelled right just now)(crap... now I forgot what historic British thingy it was full of) beauty and stateliness. I also toured the gardens and saw the Holyrood Abbey, which was lovely even in its states of erosion. The Palace of Holyroodhouse sits in a great location, looking up the Royal Mile at its front, and to the side, Arthur's Seat can be seen framed against a breathtaking Scottish sky.
At the other end of the Royal Mile, there is Edinburgh Castle: a wondrous castle of intense beauty and age sitting atop a long-extinct volcano, right in the centre of the city. Unbelievable, isn't it? Any trip to Edinburgh cannot be completed without a visit to the castle, and that's all I'm going to say.
Enough has been said about Waverly Station and I don't feel like writing anything about the Scott Monument, so...
The Dunedin Guest House just outside the City Centre of Edinburgh is a great little Bed and Breakfast with wonderful owners, a certain Mr and Mrs David Wright. He is a retired teacher from a university somewhere north of Edinburgh, and a graduate of the University of Edinburgh. As for her, I was never told, so I couldn't say. The room (that I stayed in) was very nice and had a great view of Arthur's Seat and the south of the city. Breakfast, which was complimentary, was very well done (not in terms of how cooked it was, but how well prepared and served) and tasted delicious.
I have one last thing to say before bed:
I'm terribly interested in politics (especially British ones), so visiting the Scottish Parliament was really terrific for me. It sits in a contemporary modern building, which has apparently been controversial in Edinburgh; to tell the truth, I was expecting a great stone building of neo-classical design built several centuries ago or something. You can imagine my surprise upon seeing the building that's there. I got to go inside and see a live debate (or more of a Q&A session) between the ruling Scottish National Party Secretary Minister and his opponents, as well as supporters. I personally hate the Scottish National Party, but that's just me. I stayed for twenty minutes, and I found it very interesting, but at the end of that period, my rather non-politically inclined mother stated that she just couldn't stay awake, so it was time to leave.
I actually have one more thing to say, and that's about the University of Edinburgh, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow.
Whilst in Edinburgh, I got to eat at a lovely Japanese restaurant that served halfway decent food (that I was not partial to, unfortunately, but the ambience was nice) and wonderful lemonade. I also ate at the Chocolate Soup sandwich shop, which was great, although I don't recommend the white chocolate hot chocolate; it just doesn't taste the way hot chocolate should, and that's coming from a fan of white chocolate.
The Palace of Holyroodhouse, on the east end, or bottom, of the Royal Mile (a long road that goes through Edinburgh connecting the Palace of Holyroodhouse on one end to the Castle of Edinburgh on the other) was amazing... very Queenly and full of historic British (it's funny... it took me 8 tries to get the word "British" spelled right just now)(crap... now I forgot what historic British thingy it was full of) beauty and stateliness. I also toured the gardens and saw the Holyrood Abbey, which was lovely even in its states of erosion. The Palace of Holyroodhouse sits in a great location, looking up the Royal Mile at its front, and to the side, Arthur's Seat can be seen framed against a breathtaking Scottish sky.
At the other end of the Royal Mile, there is Edinburgh Castle: a wondrous castle of intense beauty and age sitting atop a long-extinct volcano, right in the centre of the city. Unbelievable, isn't it? Any trip to Edinburgh cannot be completed without a visit to the castle, and that's all I'm going to say.
Enough has been said about Waverly Station and I don't feel like writing anything about the Scott Monument, so...
The Dunedin Guest House just outside the City Centre of Edinburgh is a great little Bed and Breakfast with wonderful owners, a certain Mr and Mrs David Wright. He is a retired teacher from a university somewhere north of Edinburgh, and a graduate of the University of Edinburgh. As for her, I was never told, so I couldn't say. The room (that I stayed in) was very nice and had a great view of Arthur's Seat and the south of the city. Breakfast, which was complimentary, was very well done (not in terms of how cooked it was, but how well prepared and served) and tasted delicious.
I have one last thing to say before bed:
I'm terribly interested in politics (especially British ones), so visiting the Scottish Parliament was really terrific for me. It sits in a contemporary modern building, which has apparently been controversial in Edinburgh; to tell the truth, I was expecting a great stone building of neo-classical design built several centuries ago or something. You can imagine my surprise upon seeing the building that's there. I got to go inside and see a live debate (or more of a Q&A session) between the ruling Scottish National Party Secretary Minister and his opponents, as well as supporters. I personally hate the Scottish National Party, but that's just me. I stayed for twenty minutes, and I found it very interesting, but at the end of that period, my rather non-politically inclined mother stated that she just couldn't stay awake, so it was time to leave.
I actually have one more thing to say, and that's about the University of Edinburgh, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow.
Sunday, 11 November 2007
My Thoughts Are Sorted
Basically, I have two points to make out of the mess that was my last post.
First: That religion, not matter which, is flawed.
Second: That the citizens of countries around the world (but particularly the US) need to become more educated in their decision-making.
You know what? I can see this going off in a bad direction. I think I'll need to do more thought sorting first.
Ciao
First: That religion, not matter which, is flawed.
Second: That the citizens of countries around the world (but particularly the US) need to become more educated in their decision-making.
You know what? I can see this going off in a bad direction. I think I'll need to do more thought sorting first.
Ciao
Saturday, 10 November 2007
Back to Life
The purpose of my blog was given in my first post, but I feel as though I have dismally failed to keep up with the goal that I had set for myself in writing this blog.
But perhaps I haven't failed....
This is the next post.
This post will tell about the world as it should be.
In this world, whether you believe it was created by God the Father, Allah, Charles Darwin, Jehovah, or by way of a Big Bang, it is imperfect. People have evolved to a point where they are too intelligent (or otherwise) for their own good. From the development of nukes to the idea that certain people are worth more (or less) than other people, humans are clearly thinking too much.
We believe that we can do whatever we want without repercussion and that the world will bend to our every need. Unfortunately, this is not true.
Jews and Muslims have been fighting forever about whether or not the "Holy Land" was promised to one or the other by God.
Within Islam, Sunni and Shia adherents have been fighting amongst themselves forever because there is no diplomacy in Islam.
Until recently, Catholics (the IRA) and Protestants in Northern Ireland have been fighting about the sovereignty of the six Northern Irish counties: do they belong to Ireland or the United Kingdom?
In all these cases, people have been fighting religiously for religious (or, indeed, secular) purposes, and CANNOT get along. Religion is a touchy subject, obviously, but that shouldn't mean that people can't diplomatically settle their differences. This has happened in Northern Ireland, as we all know, but the Muslims simply can't stop fighting. They believe that theirs is the only way to Heaven, and that all others must submit or die. I, for pretty obvious reasons, have a problem with that. (I also have a problem with a certain monkey *AHEM* I mean president marching aimlessly into a stable country and causing it to descend into chaos and, for all practical purposes, anarchy).
I'm not condemning Islam to Hell (not here, anyway), and I can't be accused of favouring another religion because I truly don't (but that's a story for another time).
People also don't learn from their mistakes. Well, government don't. Hmmm... some governments might learn from their mistakes, but surely not the US.
Viet Nam taught them nothing about invading territory where they know nothing about the culture or the people there. Bush the monkey man chose to up and walk into a stable country because there was a potential threat to Israel and there was the thought that Americans might not get their oil.
Maybe my ranting is incoherent and rambling, but what I want someone to get out of this is that the US's role as "world security force" is flawed and needs correcting.
You know what?
This is going in a totally different direction than I wanted it to.
Let me try again in a few days and see if I can separate my thoughts....
But perhaps I haven't failed....
This is the next post.
This post will tell about the world as it should be.
In this world, whether you believe it was created by God the Father, Allah, Charles Darwin, Jehovah, or by way of a Big Bang, it is imperfect. People have evolved to a point where they are too intelligent (or otherwise) for their own good. From the development of nukes to the idea that certain people are worth more (or less) than other people, humans are clearly thinking too much.
We believe that we can do whatever we want without repercussion and that the world will bend to our every need. Unfortunately, this is not true.
Jews and Muslims have been fighting forever about whether or not the "Holy Land" was promised to one or the other by God.
Within Islam, Sunni and Shia adherents have been fighting amongst themselves forever because there is no diplomacy in Islam.
Until recently, Catholics (the IRA) and Protestants in Northern Ireland have been fighting about the sovereignty of the six Northern Irish counties: do they belong to Ireland or the United Kingdom?
In all these cases, people have been fighting religiously for religious (or, indeed, secular) purposes, and CANNOT get along. Religion is a touchy subject, obviously, but that shouldn't mean that people can't diplomatically settle their differences. This has happened in Northern Ireland, as we all know, but the Muslims simply can't stop fighting. They believe that theirs is the only way to Heaven, and that all others must submit or die. I, for pretty obvious reasons, have a problem with that. (I also have a problem with a certain monkey *AHEM* I mean president marching aimlessly into a stable country and causing it to descend into chaos and, for all practical purposes, anarchy).
I'm not condemning Islam to Hell (not here, anyway), and I can't be accused of favouring another religion because I truly don't (but that's a story for another time).
People also don't learn from their mistakes. Well, government don't. Hmmm... some governments might learn from their mistakes, but surely not the US.
Viet Nam taught them nothing about invading territory where they know nothing about the culture or the people there. Bush the monkey man chose to up and walk into a stable country because there was a potential threat to Israel and there was the thought that Americans might not get their oil.
Maybe my ranting is incoherent and rambling, but what I want someone to get out of this is that the US's role as "world security force" is flawed and needs correcting.
You know what?
This is going in a totally different direction than I wanted it to.
Let me try again in a few days and see if I can separate my thoughts....
I'm happy to say...
.... that people are actually reading my blog! I don't know whether it's intentional, accidental, or a one-time thing, but people are actually reading what I write!
I would like to say that it would be great to have people who regularly check up on what I've posted, so to make sure that happens, I would very much appreciate it if anyone who is in the least bit interested in what I've written or could potentially write would please comment those posts that appeal to them, or otherwise, so that I might touch more on topics close to their hearts.
If they're just here to read about the life of a 14 year old boy born into the wrong nationality, wonderful. Assuming that is the case, for some, it would be equally appreciated if those individuals would let me know in a comment that they're here to read what I've written.
Believe me, it would make my day
I would like to say that it would be great to have people who regularly check up on what I've posted, so to make sure that happens, I would very much appreciate it if anyone who is in the least bit interested in what I've written or could potentially write would please comment those posts that appeal to them, or otherwise, so that I might touch more on topics close to their hearts.
If they're just here to read about the life of a 14 year old boy born into the wrong nationality, wonderful. Assuming that is the case, for some, it would be equally appreciated if those individuals would let me know in a comment that they're here to read what I've written.
Believe me, it would make my day
Britain's Devolution Problem
Devolution in normal, everyday, British terms usually means the process of taking apart the central government at Westminster, and giving more regional power to parliaments at Edinburgh, and the National Assemblies at Cardiff and Belfast. Today, however, I will be using the term to mean the opposite of evolution: the process of becoming less intelligent and/or independent.
Now, I would like to make one thing perfectly clear. I'm a liberal. I'm very liberal. However, when it comes to national identity and traditions, one might call me conservative. I believe in the power of the prime minister to appoint bishops and to call a general election. I do not believe in fixed terms for prime ministers or MPs.
I am a supporter of Gordon Brown, and I like his policies, for the most part. For the most part.
He wishes to reduce the power of the prime minister by forcing him or her to a fixed term without the power to call a general election or appoint bishops in the Church of England. Although I believe that a strong legislature is key to success in our ever-changing and increasingly democratic world, I feel that becoming more like the United States government is NOT the way to go.
Two reasons for this:
One - I recently read in the Financial Times that the US is currently on a crash-course for disaster through faulty and expensive policies regarding the military, education, and health. A non-partisan researcher has projected that if the US continues following these disastrous policies, it will cease to exist as we know it within fifty years. It will be forced to declare bankruptcy and will cause the world economy to collapse. For this reason, I feel that the European Union and the United Nations need to stand stronger than ever as rival powers of the United States. The US needs to be made equal to other world powers if the blow it is to imminently deal to the rest of us will be softened at all.
This makes my point that CLEARLY the United States is doing it all wrong. By causing the British government to become more like the United States, we are perhaps setting ourselves up for the same horrific end as they have set up for themselves.
Two - England, Scotland, Ireland, and the United Kingdom have stood as nations longer than the US can ever hope to exist. At one time in history, London was the capitol of the most stable, efficient, and vast empire that has ever existed. The Commonwealth is what remains of that empire; strong ties still exists between London and the countries it once ruled.
The United States, on the other hand, has caused chaos and destruction wherever it has sent its imperialistic hand. Look at Iraq or Viet Nam. On top of that, it is utterly incapable of learning from its mistakes. Its people are disconnected from the rest of the world, causing a sense of self-importance and false national identity and a belief that other world languages are not worth learning. This terrible, self-imposed mindset that the US holds CANNOT be allowed to carry over to Europe, where there is native culture, ethnicity, and nationality. I'm saying that the melting pot is a ridiculous idea proposed to make the disowning of one's genealogical past seem right.
To conclude...
We need to stop Britain from becoming what the United States is.
We need to stop promoting American beliefs of invade-and-conquer (or, as they would say, "spreading democracy to war-torn dictatorships". If I recall correctly, Iraq was much more stable under Saddam Hussein).
We need to make Britain British again.
[Sound right-wing? I bet it does. That's the only place where I fall in line with the right-wingers of the United Kingdom]
Now, I would like to make one thing perfectly clear. I'm a liberal. I'm very liberal. However, when it comes to national identity and traditions, one might call me conservative. I believe in the power of the prime minister to appoint bishops and to call a general election. I do not believe in fixed terms for prime ministers or MPs.
I am a supporter of Gordon Brown, and I like his policies, for the most part. For the most part.
He wishes to reduce the power of the prime minister by forcing him or her to a fixed term without the power to call a general election or appoint bishops in the Church of England. Although I believe that a strong legislature is key to success in our ever-changing and increasingly democratic world, I feel that becoming more like the United States government is NOT the way to go.
Two reasons for this:
One - I recently read in the Financial Times that the US is currently on a crash-course for disaster through faulty and expensive policies regarding the military, education, and health. A non-partisan researcher has projected that if the US continues following these disastrous policies, it will cease to exist as we know it within fifty years. It will be forced to declare bankruptcy and will cause the world economy to collapse. For this reason, I feel that the European Union and the United Nations need to stand stronger than ever as rival powers of the United States. The US needs to be made equal to other world powers if the blow it is to imminently deal to the rest of us will be softened at all.
This makes my point that CLEARLY the United States is doing it all wrong. By causing the British government to become more like the United States, we are perhaps setting ourselves up for the same horrific end as they have set up for themselves.
Two - England, Scotland, Ireland, and the United Kingdom have stood as nations longer than the US can ever hope to exist. At one time in history, London was the capitol of the most stable, efficient, and vast empire that has ever existed. The Commonwealth is what remains of that empire; strong ties still exists between London and the countries it once ruled.
The United States, on the other hand, has caused chaos and destruction wherever it has sent its imperialistic hand. Look at Iraq or Viet Nam. On top of that, it is utterly incapable of learning from its mistakes. Its people are disconnected from the rest of the world, causing a sense of self-importance and false national identity and a belief that other world languages are not worth learning. This terrible, self-imposed mindset that the US holds CANNOT be allowed to carry over to Europe, where there is native culture, ethnicity, and nationality. I'm saying that the melting pot is a ridiculous idea proposed to make the disowning of one's genealogical past seem right.
To conclude...
We need to stop Britain from becoming what the United States is.
We need to stop promoting American beliefs of invade-and-conquer (or, as they would say, "spreading democracy to war-torn dictatorships". If I recall correctly, Iraq was much more stable under Saddam Hussein).
We need to make Britain British again.
[Sound right-wing? I bet it does. That's the only place where I fall in line with the right-wingers of the United Kingdom]
Martian Child
Last night, for my best friend's birthday, she, her friend, and I went to see Martian Child, which I had never heard of before, but a synopsis of which I got in the car ride to Paseo Colorado. Unfortunately, we hadn't planned our evening carefully enough, and, by the time dinner was over, the film had been playing for a half an hour. Ten minutes later, we walked into the theatre and took our seats in the third row.
My friend, Gracie, had been planning on meeting one of her friends at the theatre, and indeed, Conor (a girl) was there with four other friends.
[Right now I'm about to delve into explanation of one of my friends, and one of her friends. If you really have no interest in reading this, and merely want to see what I have to say about Martian Child, just skip the next few paragraphs.]
Now, before I continue on to the main point of this blog post, I would like to point out one thing. Gracie and I have been best friends since 5th grade, when we, although attending opposite elementary schools (in my school district, there are two, and they've always been rivals), we met at a Catechism class that our parents were forcing us to attend every Tuesday after school at a local church. At the moment, she is attending LACHSA, Los Angeles County High School for the Arts, while I am stuck at a lowly unified high school in my hometown (that town I will not disclose, for my own reasons, even though it's one of the top rannked school districts in the state of California, probably due to the wealth and high majority of Asians).
Her friend, that I mentioned a little while ago is called Valentina; I met her last night, although on several occasions, I had seen her at the middle school in my city when we were both still attending there. Valentina now goes to LACHSA with Gracie.
Back to my story.
Martian Child is an amazing story. It follows a science fiction writer David Gordon (John Cusack) and his attempt to adopt as a son a six year old who thinks he's from Mars. That six year old, Dennis (Bobby Coleman), was abandoned as a child, left to die on the streets, living only in a carboard box. To try and fend off the pain that he feels all the time, Dennis fabricates a story that he completely believes and trusts in - that he is from Mars, and it is his mission to learn about humans before going back to his home planet.
This film was brilliantly written and filmed... what more is there to say? Well, that it made me cry, which was slightly embarrassing because I was meeting some of Gracie's friends for the first time.
For anyone who loves a beautiful story, this is a must-see
My friend, Gracie, had been planning on meeting one of her friends at the theatre, and indeed, Conor (a girl) was there with four other friends.
[Right now I'm about to delve into explanation of one of my friends, and one of her friends. If you really have no interest in reading this, and merely want to see what I have to say about Martian Child, just skip the next few paragraphs.]
Now, before I continue on to the main point of this blog post, I would like to point out one thing. Gracie and I have been best friends since 5th grade, when we, although attending opposite elementary schools (in my school district, there are two, and they've always been rivals), we met at a Catechism class that our parents were forcing us to attend every Tuesday after school at a local church. At the moment, she is attending LACHSA, Los Angeles County High School for the Arts, while I am stuck at a lowly unified high school in my hometown (that town I will not disclose, for my own reasons, even though it's one of the top rannked school districts in the state of California, probably due to the wealth and high majority of Asians).
Her friend, that I mentioned a little while ago is called Valentina; I met her last night, although on several occasions, I had seen her at the middle school in my city when we were both still attending there. Valentina now goes to LACHSA with Gracie.
Back to my story.
Martian Child is an amazing story. It follows a science fiction writer David Gordon (John Cusack) and his attempt to adopt as a son a six year old who thinks he's from Mars. That six year old, Dennis (Bobby Coleman), was abandoned as a child, left to die on the streets, living only in a carboard box. To try and fend off the pain that he feels all the time, Dennis fabricates a story that he completely believes and trusts in - that he is from Mars, and it is his mission to learn about humans before going back to his home planet.
This film was brilliantly written and filmed... what more is there to say? Well, that it made me cry, which was slightly embarrassing because I was meeting some of Gracie's friends for the first time.
For anyone who loves a beautiful story, this is a must-see
Tuesday, 6 November 2007
Guy Fawkes Night
Most Britons are aware of the holiday celebrated every year on the 5th day of November: Guy Fawkes Night. It is a special holiday commemorating the failed attempted by Catholic Fawkes to blow up Parliament and the Protestant King at a time when they would be conveniently gathered in the same halls: the State Opening.
All was well for the Gunpowder Plotters until knowledge of the treason leaked from their meeting place, and was made known to King James. While Fawkes waited beneath Parliament with his sixty barrels of gunpowder and a torch for the King to arrive, he was rather inconveniently discovered by a number of informed soldiers, searching the catacombs underneath the Halls of Parliament for the alleged terrorist. Fawkes was captured and hanged, King James went into reclusion for several weeks, and ever since, the chambers under Parliament have been ceremonially searched before allowing the reigning monarch to address his or her government at the State Opening every year. From this failed attack on the monarchy and of 17th century England, a new holiday, celebrated only in the UK (but mostly just England, for obvious reasons), was born in the image of Guy Fawkes Night.
Britons, but not Americans, are aware of the effigies of Guy Fawkes burned every year on his night, and the happiness and joy the act of doing so brings to these people. Amazingly, after 402 years, the tradition has not worn out.
For any Americans that might be reading this (although I very much doubt that anyone is reading my blog), Guy Fawkes is one of the main characters in the 2005 (but really 2006 for complicated reasons that I don't care to explain) film "V for Vendetta", which is my most favourite film of all time. I have the special two-disc version of it AND it's on my iPod.
I take it back... I WILL explain the 2005/2006 thing. There was very limited release of the film in the US of A on 11 December 2005. Major release in the UK and US was not until 17 March 2006. There. Happy? Probably not.
Well that's all for tonight.
But not really
Here's the Guy Fawkes rhyme:
Remember, remember, the fifth of November
The Gunpower, Treason, and Plot
I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes
T'was his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below...
Poor old England to overthrow.
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
All was well for the Gunpowder Plotters until knowledge of the treason leaked from their meeting place, and was made known to King James. While Fawkes waited beneath Parliament with his sixty barrels of gunpowder and a torch for the King to arrive, he was rather inconveniently discovered by a number of informed soldiers, searching the catacombs underneath the Halls of Parliament for the alleged terrorist. Fawkes was captured and hanged, King James went into reclusion for several weeks, and ever since, the chambers under Parliament have been ceremonially searched before allowing the reigning monarch to address his or her government at the State Opening every year. From this failed attack on the monarchy and of 17th century England, a new holiday, celebrated only in the UK (but mostly just England, for obvious reasons), was born in the image of Guy Fawkes Night.
Britons, but not Americans, are aware of the effigies of Guy Fawkes burned every year on his night, and the happiness and joy the act of doing so brings to these people. Amazingly, after 402 years, the tradition has not worn out.
For any Americans that might be reading this (although I very much doubt that anyone is reading my blog), Guy Fawkes is one of the main characters in the 2005 (but really 2006 for complicated reasons that I don't care to explain) film "V for Vendetta", which is my most favourite film of all time. I have the special two-disc version of it AND it's on my iPod.
I take it back... I WILL explain the 2005/2006 thing. There was very limited release of the film in the US of A on 11 December 2005. Major release in the UK and US was not until 17 March 2006. There. Happy? Probably not.
Well that's all for tonight.
But not really
Here's the Guy Fawkes rhyme:
Remember, remember, the fifth of November
The Gunpower, Treason, and Plot
I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes
T'was his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below...
Poor old England to overthrow.
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
A Little Bit More About Me
At the moment, you (whoever you may be) are in the dark with regard to my age and a few other things. Now, I'll serve to enlighten you further.
However shocking this may be..... I am currently (on the day that I'm writing this - 6 November 2007 - OHHHH THAT REMINDS ME! GUY FAWKES NIGHT WAS YESTERDAY AND I FORGOT TO POST SOMETHING ABOUT IT! Zut (as they say in France)!) fourteen years of age. Yes, that may surprise you, due to my seemingly uncanny ability to work the English language, but I am certainly (and dismally) 14. I say dismally because I feel trapped in a way of life that does not suit me - that of an underclass high schooler. There is another variable affecting my outlook on high school life, but I do not care to delve into that at the moment.
At the moment, I am working on being dropped from my high school's Honors Geometry programme. And I don't mean by failing out of it, but by simply lodging a few well-placed words in my counselor's brain and convincing her of the fact that it plainly and clearly is not for me (there are numerous reasons for this... maybe one day when I'm feeling particularly annoyed I'll present to you (again, whoever you are, you are most likely my only reader) in a rather blunt but carefully worded fashion.
Now you know my age, and it's time for me to send an email to both my (until recently) soccer coach and the man to whom I sold ad space for my school newpaper.
Je vous écrirai plus tard
However shocking this may be..... I am currently (on the day that I'm writing this - 6 November 2007 - OHHHH THAT REMINDS ME! GUY FAWKES NIGHT WAS YESTERDAY AND I FORGOT TO POST SOMETHING ABOUT IT! Zut (as they say in France)!) fourteen years of age. Yes, that may surprise you, due to my seemingly uncanny ability to work the English language, but I am certainly (and dismally) 14. I say dismally because I feel trapped in a way of life that does not suit me - that of an underclass high schooler. There is another variable affecting my outlook on high school life, but I do not care to delve into that at the moment.
At the moment, I am working on being dropped from my high school's Honors Geometry programme. And I don't mean by failing out of it, but by simply lodging a few well-placed words in my counselor's brain and convincing her of the fact that it plainly and clearly is not for me (there are numerous reasons for this... maybe one day when I'm feeling particularly annoyed I'll present to you (again, whoever you are, you are most likely my only reader) in a rather blunt but carefully worded fashion.
Now you know my age, and it's time for me to send an email to both my (until recently) soccer coach and the man to whom I sold ad space for my school newpaper.
Je vous écrirai plus tard
Monday, 5 November 2007
Second Life
Anyone who has created a Second Life knows that it has the potential to be a really great online social and money-making opportunity. Maybe for them, that was the case. For someone not willing to put any money into it except an itty bitty little one-time fee, it turned out to be rather a bust. I don't particularly enjoy spending my time in front of the computer interacting with people I've never met before (and will probably never meet.... in Real Life, that is) and who must have exceptionally dull lives.
If I'm offending any of my potential readers (at the time this is being written, I am quite aware of the fact that I have no readers. Hopefully one day these two sentences will be a thing of the past - untrue and obsolete) then please go ahead and boycott this blog. I apologise and beg forgiveness from any of those individuals.
Anyway, as I was saying... If it were possible for me to never leave my room, eating away all the peppermint flavoured ice cream in the world and engaging in forging a new era in the Second Life, as well as make oodles and oodles of money on top of that, what could be better? Hmmm... let's think.... maybe.... A LIFE? Sure, peppermint ice cream is great, and so is making tons of money doing absolutely nothing more than moving the little appendages called fingers conveniently attached to the ends of the considerably larger appendages called arms.
Truth be told, I have nothing against Second Life, its creators, or the people who are actively a part of that world. I simply dislike the fact that it's so hard to get anywhere in that nice little virtual world without paying for it first. bleh. :(
Well, now it's time for some good ole Mac 'n' Cheese (courtesy of the supermarket from which I bought this delectable Stouffer creation.
And for those of you reading this right now, I pray you find meaning in your life.
Just Kidding :)
If I'm offending any of my potential readers (at the time this is being written, I am quite aware of the fact that I have no readers. Hopefully one day these two sentences will be a thing of the past - untrue and obsolete) then please go ahead and boycott this blog. I apologise and beg forgiveness from any of those individuals.
Anyway, as I was saying... If it were possible for me to never leave my room, eating away all the peppermint flavoured ice cream in the world and engaging in forging a new era in the Second Life, as well as make oodles and oodles of money on top of that, what could be better? Hmmm... let's think.... maybe.... A LIFE? Sure, peppermint ice cream is great, and so is making tons of money doing absolutely nothing more than moving the little appendages called fingers conveniently attached to the ends of the considerably larger appendages called arms.
Truth be told, I have nothing against Second Life, its creators, or the people who are actively a part of that world. I simply dislike the fact that it's so hard to get anywhere in that nice little virtual world without paying for it first. bleh. :(
Well, now it's time for some good ole Mac 'n' Cheese (courtesy of the supermarket from which I bought this delectable Stouffer creation.
And for those of you reading this right now, I pray you find meaning in your life.
Just Kidding :)
Sunday, 4 November 2007
You're No Fun Anymore
For many years now, I have been a huge fan of Monty Python. I've seen every single episode of the Flying Circus, as well as two of their movies: Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Monty Python's Life of Brian. At some point in the near future, I wish to see the Meaning of Life, which is supposed to be not nearly as funny as its predecessors.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that everyone who has the lack of time hence allowing them to read my blog should settle that problem by watching Monty Python. I think perhaps the funniest (yes, I know that's not a word) episode ever is Monty Python's Flying Circus, Episode 7: You're No Fun Anymore.
Anyone who has seen it can vouch for me.
Basically, 48 million Englishmen are turned into Scotsmen by Blancmanges from the planet Skyron in the galaxy Andromeda whose only real goal is to win Wimbledon (the Blancmanges aim to win Wimbledon, that is). Oh, did I mention the Blancmanges are the size of coffee tables?
[For my American readers, blancmanges are custard-like desserts quite similar to flan, which is Mexican. They are made of cornstarch and milk and are commonplace in the UK.]
The Holidays
Having been raised in the US, my family was adopted into the celebration of Thanksgiving every years, my grandmother being a driving force behind the "Americanise the World" campaign of certain ultra-Americans (this is my dad's mother).
I greatly prefer spending the holidays (any holidays) with my mother's side of the family, simply because they are a much more agreeable and pleasant lot. My dad's side is polluted with rambunctious little children and disagreeable old folks. Of course, I'm not saying they're all bad. I love my Grand- Aunt and my Uncle's wife, but my Uncle and his kids are rather obnoxious. My dad's other brother is a military man, meaning he's conservative, right-wing (but conservative implies that), Bush-loving (that disgusts me), and all of this has been passed on to his kids. His kids are wonderful. I love my cousins. However, whenever politics of any sort are raised in their presence, things turn sour on both sides.
My grandma, too. She's a complete establishmentarian: not acknowledging the faults of America until they're too great to ignore, then acknowledging the downfalls, but stating that there is simply nothing to do to change them.
My politics and hers clash horribly, as do my politics with quite a few people. My religious beliefs, if voiced aloud in the presence of my father's family would be sure to see me disowned and dis-inherited.
So clearly, the way to go is spend the holidays (all of them) with my mum's family
On her side....
Her father is my granddad. He's about the most Scottish person you could find, other than the fact that he's dropped his accent. His daughters, my mother and aunt, are separated by a gap of five years, and their children's ages vary accordingly. My aunt on my mother's side is agreeable and funny, always happy and smiling. She has three kids and a new husband, who is the most wonderful person who could have entered our family. Her kids are great, too, although subject to Portland(Oregon)'s sub-culture of not really caring about academics and positively filling up their faces with ornaments of various types (mostly lip, ear, and tongue rings). Oh, I forgot to mention that her kids follow the following order: boy, girl, boy. The younger two have vague plans for their lives, while the eldest really has none. Still, they're great cousins.
So really what I'm trying to say is that although I've landed with a Thanksgiving with the paternal relatives, I'm going to try and try to get my mother to abandon plans for holding it at her house. If that happens, my xbox and collection of old video games are sure to be destroyed before the turkey is carved.
I greatly prefer spending the holidays (any holidays) with my mother's side of the family, simply because they are a much more agreeable and pleasant lot. My dad's side is polluted with rambunctious little children and disagreeable old folks. Of course, I'm not saying they're all bad. I love my Grand- Aunt and my Uncle's wife, but my Uncle and his kids are rather obnoxious. My dad's other brother is a military man, meaning he's conservative, right-wing (but conservative implies that), Bush-loving (that disgusts me), and all of this has been passed on to his kids. His kids are wonderful. I love my cousins. However, whenever politics of any sort are raised in their presence, things turn sour on both sides.
My grandma, too. She's a complete establishmentarian: not acknowledging the faults of America until they're too great to ignore, then acknowledging the downfalls, but stating that there is simply nothing to do to change them.
My politics and hers clash horribly, as do my politics with quite a few people. My religious beliefs, if voiced aloud in the presence of my father's family would be sure to see me disowned and dis-inherited.
So clearly, the way to go is spend the holidays (all of them) with my mum's family
On her side....
Her father is my granddad. He's about the most Scottish person you could find, other than the fact that he's dropped his accent. His daughters, my mother and aunt, are separated by a gap of five years, and their children's ages vary accordingly. My aunt on my mother's side is agreeable and funny, always happy and smiling. She has three kids and a new husband, who is the most wonderful person who could have entered our family. Her kids are great, too, although subject to Portland(Oregon)'s sub-culture of not really caring about academics and positively filling up their faces with ornaments of various types (mostly lip, ear, and tongue rings). Oh, I forgot to mention that her kids follow the following order: boy, girl, boy. The younger two have vague plans for their lives, while the eldest really has none. Still, they're great cousins.
So really what I'm trying to say is that although I've landed with a Thanksgiving with the paternal relatives, I'm going to try and try to get my mother to abandon plans for holding it at her house. If that happens, my xbox and collection of old video games are sure to be destroyed before the turkey is carved.
Going Home
A week from today, I have plans to return to the United Kingdom. My flight leaves at 18.00 next Sunday, dooming me a to an inconsiderately early arrival time, as well as absolutely very little chance of sleep that night. I'll be spending one night in a hotel somewhere crappy, probably near an airport or a train station. The next day, Tuesday, I'll be taking Britain's excellent railway system to Edinburgh, where I'll spend two or three nights, depending the arrival time of my mum and sister in London, where they'll be staying with my dad. Then, it'll be back to London with me, where I'll spend possibly Thursday, but definitely Friday and Saturday visiting the economic capitol of the world!
Saturday, 3 November 2007
About Myself (Part One)
In the event that you happened to read my profile thing and are currently sitting before your computer wondering whether to continue, I would advise doing so, the reason being that my profile lacks information on my age, intelligence (but I won't say anything about that because I would sound rather pompous if I were to mention that), country of birth, heritage (granted, I did give you a peek into my heritage in my profile), sexuality (just mentioning this makes it sound as though I might not be straight, but I would like to be clear about for the sake of open-mindedness), hair and eye colour, foot size (I'm not going to mention this ever again - I wear a shoe size 10 [UK], 11 in the US, 44.5 in Europe, and they (my shoes) are 29 centimetres long), or religious and political beliefs.
I don't know how much you care about me, or how interested you are in this blog, but I truly want it to be interesting. :) (doesn't everybody?)
But, I suppose you wouldn't be reading this right now if you didn't care to know who I am.
I guess I'll take this bit by bit.
On my dad's side, I can trace my ancestry back to Norway (grandfather) and Ireland (grandmother). On my mum's side, it gets a bit more complicated. Her father is mostly Scots-Irish and Scottish while her mother (may her soul rest in peace) was French, Swedish, and English.
That's all for now
I don't know how much you care about me, or how interested you are in this blog, but I truly want it to be interesting. :) (doesn't everybody?)
But, I suppose you wouldn't be reading this right now if you didn't care to know who I am.
I guess I'll take this bit by bit.
On my dad's side, I can trace my ancestry back to Norway (grandfather) and Ireland (grandmother). On my mum's side, it gets a bit more complicated. Her father is mostly Scots-Irish and Scottish while her mother (may her soul rest in peace) was French, Swedish, and English.
That's all for now
A Boy Named Alex
I once knew a boy named Alex. He was a year younger than me, although taller (I.... well I can't say suffered.... from "rapid tempo puberty" - a stupid phrase used by doctor to describe a condition where bone growth is abnormally rapid during the early stages of puberty, almost always resulting in shorter-than-normal stature as an adult. Thankfully, I didn't experience it as bad as I could have: I'm 5'8" tall, which isn't tall by any means, but I could've been 5'2" or something, which would've been a lot worse), and has, in many more ways than one, been through a lot more than I probably ever will.
As a youngster (his exact age is only a guess... maybe 4 or 5), his dad divorced his mum and got custody of their son. Not too many years later, he married another woman, who was the best mother Alex could possibly have asked for. (I - being good friends with Alex - have met her several times and, believe me, she's a wonderful person). Unfortunately enough, Alex's father was an alcoholic, and had apparently been living as such for several years.
One terrible day, he was... well... drunk, and somehow, he got access to the steak knives. While Alex's stepmother was fixing lunch, his father burst in yelling unintelligible phrases and words with one of those bleeding steak knives in his hand.
Before I continue, I want you (whomever you may be) to stop and think about something.
Alex was 11 years old. He loved his dad. Imagine how hard it would be for you to see someone you love so much do what about to tell you, and then respond in the manner that Alex did.
Alex's father walked (unsteadily, I'm assuming) straight at his wife, steak knife in hand, angry look on face. In all probability, Alex said to me, his father would have attacked his stepmum and could have seriously injured or killed her.
This may sound strange, but the whole family was lucky that Alex's father had a mind only for his wife at that particular moment, because it gave Alex a chance to act.
Alex was 11 years old. His step grandparents were in the next room, eating a (until moments before) peaceful lunch with Alex's half-sister and brother, Hayden and Hayley (yes, they're twins).
The subject of our story (Alex, in case you haven't been following along) did the first thing that came to mind: he tackled his dad, which was no small feat seeing as the master of the house was well over 6 feet tall. The inebriated man was locked in an upstairs bedroom until he was sober again. In the meantime, Alex's grandparents made arrangements for their son-in-law to be sent to a rehabilitation facility in Utah (of all places).
It's sad enough for an eleven year old to have to go through that alone, but the story doesn't end there.
A few months after he arrived at the rehab centre in Utah, Alex's father met a woman. How old she was, I don't know. I do know that she had children, and a month before being released from rehab, Alex's dad ran off to Oklahoma with his new wife.
He hasn't been home since.
As a youngster (his exact age is only a guess... maybe 4 or 5), his dad divorced his mum and got custody of their son. Not too many years later, he married another woman, who was the best mother Alex could possibly have asked for. (I - being good friends with Alex - have met her several times and, believe me, she's a wonderful person). Unfortunately enough, Alex's father was an alcoholic, and had apparently been living as such for several years.
One terrible day, he was... well... drunk, and somehow, he got access to the steak knives. While Alex's stepmother was fixing lunch, his father burst in yelling unintelligible phrases and words with one of those bleeding steak knives in his hand.
Before I continue, I want you (whomever you may be) to stop and think about something.
Alex was 11 years old. He loved his dad. Imagine how hard it would be for you to see someone you love so much do what about to tell you, and then respond in the manner that Alex did.
Alex's father walked (unsteadily, I'm assuming) straight at his wife, steak knife in hand, angry look on face. In all probability, Alex said to me, his father would have attacked his stepmum and could have seriously injured or killed her.
This may sound strange, but the whole family was lucky that Alex's father had a mind only for his wife at that particular moment, because it gave Alex a chance to act.
Alex was 11 years old. His step grandparents were in the next room, eating a (until moments before) peaceful lunch with Alex's half-sister and brother, Hayden and Hayley (yes, they're twins).
The subject of our story (Alex, in case you haven't been following along) did the first thing that came to mind: he tackled his dad, which was no small feat seeing as the master of the house was well over 6 feet tall. The inebriated man was locked in an upstairs bedroom until he was sober again. In the meantime, Alex's grandparents made arrangements for their son-in-law to be sent to a rehabilitation facility in Utah (of all places).
It's sad enough for an eleven year old to have to go through that alone, but the story doesn't end there.
A few months after he arrived at the rehab centre in Utah, Alex's father met a woman. How old she was, I don't know. I do know that she had children, and a month before being released from rehab, Alex's dad ran off to Oklahoma with his new wife.
He hasn't been home since.
Help Save Darfur
In Sudan, there is a region that is war-torn and burning. Government-employed paramilitaries and militias are burning villages, raping women and girls, and killing those who stand in their way.
Darfur is real, and the world is, at the moment, incapable of realising that. In all fairness, some countries are making use of sanctions against nations who trade with Sudan, but at the end of the day, people still care more about Mr Bush's war.
Really, the trouble is in the lack of knowledge about Darfur. Very few people that I've talked to have even heard of the place. Others have said that they've heard it on the news or seen the name somewhere, but have never known what it meant. When the worst humanitarian disaster since the Nazi Holocaust is finally made a major issue in the governments of the world's rich countries, maybe some progress will be made.
That's not to say, of course, that some progress hasn't been made. The UN is preparing a peacekeeping force of nearly 20,000 troops, and peace talks are being regularly scheduled.
Lack of help from the media and limited Western knowledge of the conflict allows the whole ordeal to remain the absolute worst humanitarian disaster in recent history with the worst planned response to the atrocities from those who have the capability of helping.
If you care one measly little bit about help the people displaced by the conflict, people with nothing but a cardboard box and their lives, join the Save Darfur Coalition now.
Darfur is real, and the world is, at the moment, incapable of realising that. In all fairness, some countries are making use of sanctions against nations who trade with Sudan, but at the end of the day, people still care more about Mr Bush's war.
Really, the trouble is in the lack of knowledge about Darfur. Very few people that I've talked to have even heard of the place. Others have said that they've heard it on the news or seen the name somewhere, but have never known what it meant. When the worst humanitarian disaster since the Nazi Holocaust is finally made a major issue in the governments of the world's rich countries, maybe some progress will be made.
That's not to say, of course, that some progress hasn't been made. The UN is preparing a peacekeeping force of nearly 20,000 troops, and peace talks are being regularly scheduled.
Lack of help from the media and limited Western knowledge of the conflict allows the whole ordeal to remain the absolute worst humanitarian disaster in recent history with the worst planned response to the atrocities from those who have the capability of helping.
If you care one measly little bit about help the people displaced by the conflict, people with nothing but a cardboard box and their lives, join the Save Darfur Coalition now.
The Absolute True Story of Life
I want to tell you a story . . .
Once upon a time there was a nation where differences aren't accepted, where media controls culture, where laws governing morality are based on religious beliefs, and where there exists a small city of 3.8 square miles governed and populated by upper class professionals.
That is my home.
Although I very much doubt the probability of this story being read by more than, well, you, I'm still here to imbed in the mind(s) of my reader(s) the Absolute True Story of Life, because, in my experience, people are very unaware of the world around them, and of the people in that world.
My name is Sebastian Elliot, and this is my story.
Once upon a time there was a nation where differences aren't accepted, where media controls culture, where laws governing morality are based on religious beliefs, and where there exists a small city of 3.8 square miles governed and populated by upper class professionals.
That is my home.
Although I very much doubt the probability of this story being read by more than, well, you, I'm still here to imbed in the mind(s) of my reader(s) the Absolute True Story of Life, because, in my experience, people are very unaware of the world around them, and of the people in that world.
My name is Sebastian Elliot, and this is my story.
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