That is all.
That is all.
I have to finish a 1500 word report on the Rwandan genocide, a 1200 word introduction on a Psychology project, two-thirds of The Catcher in the Rye and a PowerPoint presentation about it and notes on two acts of Othello, and I’ve ended up on VH1’s ‘Will You Love North West? 5 Other Celeb Baby Names That Grew On Us‘.
So I’m writing a blog because at least that’s productive-ish.
Except I’m so distracted by the CIA World Factbook and Google Docs that I can’t gather my thoughts to go into anything into great detail (I also lost the list of things I wanted to blog about when exams ended)… So this is a suggestion that you head over to The Webways because I’m 83% sure it’ll have been made better since your last visit – unless you’ve visited since Thursday, anyway. Or you could look at some pretty Gatsby/Gatsby memes and reflect upon what it must feel like to watch Leonardo DiCaprio die twice in two days.
It was weird and traumatic, although his character was a bit dodgy the second time round.
I’m going to make my third (fourth?) caffeinated beverage of the day and check to see if Sprout, my badly named Politics bean, has emerged from the soil.
If The Webways isn’t enough for you, check this out:
While I’m thinking about it, I’ve updated Monday’s post with a clearer, Spanish-subbed Fence video.
I had something really smart to say but I’ve forgotten what it is… Che Guevara had excellent hair. (That wasn’t it.)
I’m going out to see The Great Gatsby in a bit and I’m nervous because we’re doing the novel in school at the moment and I’m coming dangerously close to becoming emotionally attached to certain characters who may or may not be well-portrayed and/or die in the film.
At least it’s not in 3D – it might have tempted me to punch Carey Mulligan in her very nice face.
I can’t find a meme of acceptably-funny standards to put here. Maybe I’ll look for a GIF post-film.
And, that, ladies and gents, both concludes this post and the entire story.
I’m pretty sure I have lots of important and fancypants things to tell everyone, but I have hayfever and my eyes are almost as itchy as my nose is snotty, so we’re going to watch a video instead.
I’m pretty sure The Fence is a bad guy in a film? I support the ideal of sitting on it though, because people who don’t run the risk of suffering from fuckin’ idiotism.
I’d like this for my birthday please. My RS class is doing atheism at the moment, and my group played a bit of Storm. Quite a few people laughed, although we did only play about three minutes’ worth… and I resisted the urge to show everyone the suggested videos…
I’ve spent the last half-hour reading up on Nelson Mandela, and for a bloke who liked Colnol Gadaffi, he’s done some pretty spectacular stuff. I urge you all to take a moment to appreciate apartheid, long term imprisonment, and seventeen grandchildren.
Seriously, though, it’s important to learn about these old dudes who did something famous before I/we/you were born/politically aware, because it’s so easy to forget the significance of what these people did… I honestly don’t know much about South Africa apart from “apartheid used to be there” and those bloody World Cup trumpet things, but I get the distinct impression that a South Africa without Mandela and his freedom fighter friends would be far worse off, as in fact would the rest of the world, because we need people who symbolise the need for equality…
I’m going to stop now because I’m getting sleepy and a repeat of yesterday’s wrong-account-Tweeting would be slightly embarrassing. Fool me once and all that…
There was a postcard in the Oxfam tent at Hay which read “DON’T VOTE… IT ONLY ENCOURAGES THEM”. It was interesting, considering that it was up there next to feminist witticisms and Oscar Wilde quotations on social change.
It was especially interesting considering the fact that this year – today, in fact – is one hundred years since Emily Davison ran in front of the King’s Horse at the Epsom Derby, while she was campaigning for women to be given the vote.
Even with the high-definition, Technicolor excellence that allows us to view Colonel Gaddafi getting executed by Libyans and Syrians execute other Syrians and Simon Cowell’s eerily plastic face perfectly, it’s hard to imagine what that event must have been like. I mean, no one likes seeing the horses fall when they jump those hurdles at the Grand National or whatever, and no one likes seeing people get knocked to the ground unconscious. Wondering what the onlookers might have thought, and wondering what Emily might have thought as she dashed onto the track, makes me uncomfortable.
Here’s the thing: violent events aren’t nice (if you want to dispute that, please go and find another website). Violent events that happened because of people campaigning for a cause are no better, although it helps if history remembers the cause as a worthy one. If, in time, it turns out that the minority group was right and that their perceived ‘extremist’ beliefs were actually the way forward in a modern democracy, then it can be possible to remember the violence with some pride mixed into the sadness.
I wasn’t going to talk about Woolwich because I haven’t come up with anything really scathing about the EDL, and I wasn’t going to talk about equal marriage because I’ve done that a few times already, and I’d like to save the glitter paint for when it’s finally legalised – I was going to link the suffragette movement with my Psychology revision about conformity… But while I’ve been writing this I’ve realised that the three events are in a way very similar.
Back in the day, the suffragettes were a bit of a terrorist group. They marched, they threw stuff, they may or may not have led a woman to suicide racetrack-ing.
In the present day, there are radicalised religious people who form quite serious terrorist groups. They preach, they attack random innocent people, they definitely lead people to suicide bombing.
Today, the House of Lords voted against screwing up the equal marriage bill. They debated, they got analysed on Twitter, they registered their vote.
There are women in the Lords, as there are in the House of Commons (not nearly enough in a ‘representative democracy’, mind you, but that’s for another post). There are women, in this country, who elected the members of the Commons. There are women, in this country, who are allowed to register their vote in every type of public election and there are women in other countries who are living with violence and war in the hope that they – along with men, in some cases – will one day be allowed to vote as part of a democracy.
Whether or not Emily Davison had any impact on the UK’s democratic freedoms might be debatable but, I’m sorry Oxfam, the idea that we should use those freedoms is not.