Send Free SMS

Obama II

I’m prompted to post this after reading a thread on LiveJournal. I have an account under a different username there, generally used for reading filthy fanfiction and other unsavoury activities that I wouldn’t admit my doing to friends or loved ones. My friends list is mostly related to such activities, but since other writers tend not to be as single-minded in purpose as I, posts containing no masturbatory material at all tend to occassionally crop up.

The post in question was regarding Obama’s visit to the Queen – more specifically, Mrs Obama’s conduct when meeting her. Apparently some right-wing newspapers over in the States have got a hold of a picture of the Queen and Mrs O with their arms around each other, and have slated Mrs O for poor conduct. The girl making the thread (my LJ friends are generally Obama-loving female Americans) disagreed that the Obama’s were out of line, and asked for the perspective of a British member of the public to confirm/disagree with this view.

I, representing accurately the British youth, promptly assured her that nobody gives a shit about the Queen, and even if she had been out of line (which I doubt), people like Obama too much for her to ever be in any trouble.

It’s this last assertion that (finally) brings me round to my point – people really do like Obama. They love him. Unquestioningly.

Another reply to the thread stated, “I think it’s a HUGE compliment to Michelle and Barack. They are such genuine caring people who only want to create a better world…”

Genuinely caring people? How the fuck would we know?!

If the public generally perceives Obama and Michelle to be nice, caring and likable people, it’s because their PR team has depicted them so. This has absolutely no relation to whether they actually are. Don’t get me wrong, they could very well be nice people – but we’ll never know. All I’m saying is when people the world over let go of their suspicions of politicians and people in power, and love them unconditionally, then we miss things. So, people love Obama - he’s attractive, young, and the public can find things in common with him.

People loved Mao too. And Stalin. And Hitler.

Cults of personality are dangerous. I can understand why people might want to let go of their inhibitions like this – in an era where we can’t trust our politicians as far as we could throw them, Obama is refreshing – but we need to arm ourselves with a healthy skepticism, and be on alert for anything amiss. The fact is, we CAN’T trust our politicians, and we can’t just assume that because a leader ’seems like a nice guy’ that he necessarily has our best interests at heart.

Personal integrity vs. romantic opportunity – why should we have to choose?

Today was one of those days. The kind where you think that nothing else could possibly go wrong, and then it does. Firstly, I lost the key to my work. Secondly, I was ten pounds down in the cash box. And thirdly, my friend Zak (from the rock music-related society I joined at the uni) told me that his ex had described me to a mutual friend of theirs as ‘just some fresher who has become attached to Zak.’

The first objection I have to her assessment of the situation is the factual inaccuracy – if anything, he has become attached to me. It’s true that we’ve been hanging around a lot, and that he likes me, and that I like him (although I suspect not as much – certainly not enough to leave my boyfriend over, although Matthew’s been pretty pissy lately and I’ve occasionally been very tempted). But, at the end of the day, we’re just friends. Nothing’s going on.

The second and more significant objection is the general basis on which the statement was made. She doesn’t actually know me, and I’ve never done anything to intentionally hurt her – her only reason for disliking me is that she suspects I have something going on with a guy she fancies.

And while some people, I’m sure, would agree with her that this is a perfectly justified reason for disliking a person, I don’t think it is. Taking into account that I’ve given her no reason to think I’m a bad person, whereas Zak has repeatedly wronged her, she still sees Zak as the victim in all this, and myself as the perpetrator.

I just think it’s sad how easily women will demonise each other over men. Her attitude is insulting to me, but more importantly she’s also insulting herself by lowering herself to character defamation and petty bitching. There’s no solidarity at all there, and it betrays a lack of self esteem and personal integrity in the face of romantic opportunity that we, as women, shouldn’t have to sacrifice in order to achieve romantic fulfilment.

Yes, I admit, having a partner is important, and it sucks to be alone. I don’t think a single person I know could really adhere to the whole ‘to be happy in a relationship you have to be able to be happy by yourself’ adage, true though it may be. But harbouring this sort of jealous and possessive attitude distorts and degrades your own character as well as someone else’s, and people shouldn’t have to stoop to this level in order to pursue someone. This whole situation is symbolic of a culture where women see themselves, both as a gender and as individuals, as inferior to men.

The fact that some women are made to feel that lowering themselves to such trivial little fights as these is worth the opportunity of bagging a man is sad to me. I think having self-respect is more important than having a romantic partner, and you shouldn’t have to sacrifice one to achieve the other.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

After spending the remainder of my evening apologising profusely to the boyfriend for having dragged him to this film (“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would be THAT pretentious!”), I got home and, browsing rottentomatoes.com, the only poor review of it I can find on the first page is from the Daily Mail.

That’s really not a good omen for my intellectual development.

However, I can at least be assured from having seen Barcelona that those who can effortlessly appreciate the arts still lead lives as boring and unfulfilling as I mine.

What IS an Amaranth, anyhow?!

Prompted by the recent announcement of the first bands lined up to be playing at this year’s Metalcamp, I convinced myself it would be a good idea to listen to the new Nightwish album.

I call it ‘new’ – actually, Dark Passion Play came out in 2005. That’s how long I’ve been resisting change. Basically, they kicked out their first singer, the lovely, man-jawed and (apparently) commercially-focused Tarja, to replace her with a new, non-operatic singer. I remained convinced for the last four years (has it really been that long?!) that the operatic aspect of Nightwish was what distinguised them from all the other nondescript female-fronted symphonic metal bands (that, and the jaw), and that if I listened to this new album I would inevitably be disappointed.

Then I thought, nothing could possibly disappoint me more than the new Metallica album, so I’ll give it a go. How bad can it be?

As it transpires, not that bad. Tuomas is still writing the vast majority of the music, as far as I’m aware, and so the non-vocal aspects of the tracks have retained the same high quality, and the new singer really isn’t that terrible. She’s ideal for the new direction they’ve taken, although I’ll maintain that the operatic aspect is a loss, and that the new style is a little too dull and commercial sounding for me – but my ‘dull and commercial’ is probably someone else’s ‘accessible and easy-to-listen-to’ so it’s not a criticism per-se.

What IS a criticism is that thing she does with her head in the video for Amaranth. I HATE it.

26 facts

1. I have a deadline for yesterday that I really should be completing instead of doing this.
2. I have a new flatmate. His name is Gus, and he lives behind the fridge.
3. Our kitchen has a mysterious smell whose source I just can’t seem to find.
4. I have never quite gotten over the whole ‘OMG MY ANUS IS BLEEDING’ moment of when I get a period.
5. My uterus hurts.
6. I’ve taken a fancy to the idea of writing for the student newspaper.
7. Unfortunately, I can barely write coherently.
8. I also have nothing to write about.
9. I am going to see Kamelot in March.
10. And Judas Priest in February!
11. On Friday morning, I interviewed an elderly woman whilst wearing crotchless trousers.
12. And then, in the afternoon, I put my hands into a dissected human head.
13. My December exam results come out tomorrow, and I have almost certainly failed.
14. If I haven’t failed, there’s something wrong with the system, because I definitely deserved to fail.
15. I will do anything to avoid studying or doing real work, including deliberately cultivating an unhealthy minesweeper addiction.
16. I put off everything last semester until the very last minute.
17. When the last minute eventually came, I gathered all my work to me and said,

‘Fuck it, I’ll just play minesweeper.’

18. I am so boring, I colour-code my timetable.
19. I have been reading Les Miserables for what must be almost two years now.
20. I need to go to the gym 17 more times this semester for my membership to be economically worthwhile.
21. Yesterday, I panic-bought tea from Whittard’s.
22. I have essentially alienated all of my friends from school in the half-a-year since I left.
23. This has, for the most part, not been deliberate.
24. My ex-boyfriend texted me the other day.
25. He has been declaring his undying love for me on a regular basis since Ibroke up with him.
26. We broke up when I was thirteen.

DENIED

The Christian is no longer speaking to me.

It’s been going on so long now I’m starting to think that I might not be imagining it.

So, either he’s realised that I’m the antichrist, or has found out that I’m madly in love with him. Or a healthy mix of both. The latter is actually not true, but it’s funny to propagate the rumour all the same.

TV licence

I, and the four other residents in my student flat, received some rather threatening e-mails recently from the TV Licencing Agency informing us that we are ‘under investigation’ for not having bought a TV licence.

For those of you unaware, TV licencing laws in this country stipulate that if you own and watch a TV, or if you use any other electronic device to watch TV as it’s being broadcast, you are required to pay an annual licence, somewhere in the region of 140 pounds.

Feeling rather agitated that the tone of their missive was automatically assuming that we watch TV and were thus cheating the system, and finding no mechanism on their website to claim otherwise, I sent them a polite but rather clipped e-mail informing them that none of us own a television or watch live feeds.

They got back to me fairly promptly and said they would update our records, but I’m still a little annoyed. Can you imagine if they’d come round to investigate? It all seems a little scary.

I’m not sure if I should be regretting the impatient tone of my e-mail to them – it’s probably been noted in a record somewhere, and in fourteen years time I’ll be dragged off to some detention centre in the middle of the night with a black bag over my head, never to be seen or heard from again.

Resus update

Well, I made a resolution to practice resuscitation skills, and I have (on Matthew). And since, unlike Annie, he can give feedback (because he is, in fact, not a dummy), I figured out what I was doing wrong. Apparently you’re supposed to make a complete seal around the mouth, whereas what I was doing was more along the lines of making sweet mouth love to Resus Annie. I mean, I let her die horribly, but I’m pretty sure she had the best time of her short, plasticated life while doing so.

So, I’m very pleased. No longer am I the med-student who can’t perform first aid!

Self-awareness

I think life as a woman is harder than that of a man.

I know – controversial statement in this day and age, where feminism is almost as much of a joke now as it was before the Suffragetes. But it’s true enough, regardless. And my reasoning behind saying so comes not from the argument that childbirth is a more painful experience than a kick to the crotch any day of the week, or because of the ever-present glass ceiling that still, after all this time, hasn’t quite been lifted.

I say so because modern women (I can’t speak for the women of any other time-period because I am, of course, not one of them) go through their whole lives experiencing a constant, almost painful self-awareness. In our culture of advertisement, there’s an ideal aesthetic standard that women are expected to achieve. Of course, any sane person would look at the size-4 models on any catwalk and say, ‘Ha! How ridiculous – surely we can’t expect our women to live up to that!’ But we do, nonetheless.

We’re generally expected (by members of both genders, the media, society as a whole and consequently ourselves) to be slim, cellulite-free, constantly bald from the neck down and with entirely unblemished skin in order to be considered attractive. This isn’t a new complaint by any means, but no matter how ridiculous we realise this situation to be, we are affected by it nonetheless. And so most of us spend our entire lives thinking things like, ‘Do I look fat in this?’ ‘Does this make me look too old?’ ‘Does this cover up my skin enough?’ and other mundane, vapid questions. Call it vanity if you like, but a lot of women are self-obsessed out of necessity. It by no means affects every woman, and I’m certainly not saying that men don’t also feel a similar pressure, but for those who do, it can really take the joy out of life. It’s not just considerations to be taken into account when looking in the mirror at the morning – worries about our own appearance can consume us, can be niggling away at the back of our minds (or even at the forefront) when we’re walking down the street, in our jobs, socialising, dating, having sex. Especially the latter.

A lot of activities and experiences that are supposed to be positive or gratifying are tainted by this self-awareness. I’m not going to get all Buddhist on your asses, or pretend that I can suggest a solution to this (if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have need to complain like this), I’m just saying that I think it’s wrong, and that the overall happiness that can be gleaned from life is dramatically lowered for many people in this kind of environment.