Mum doesn't believe in the fgoose

What a philistmum

Interesting Bird

The fgoose is quite interesting. And indeed a real thing. Who knew?

Vitriol etc

I live in Worcestershire. At times, Worcestershire makes me sad. Two letters in particular didn't help (standard rage against the Europe/immigration machine). Having killed a man with a letter last year (true story), I came out of my self-imposed exile to vent once more.

I don't expect for a second that it'll get published.

"It seems today’s whipping boys, at whom we wag the finger of blame when things go south, are now immigration and Europe. How reassuring a reminder of the quivering jowls of rage of Middle England that both should crop up last week in response to Peter Luff’s defence of the EU (Your View, 10^th January).

I’m no Conservative, but am far from being so single-mindedly partisan that I automatically refute everything our MP suggests. Over this, I am inclined to agree with him. Or maybe not; every day, I struggle to move (even to breathe) due to the “millions of Bulgarians and Albanians” compacting and squashing me like some kind of European car-crusher. Yes, we have people who choose to move from their prosperous, luxurious lives of hovel-dwelling fruit-picking to appreciate healthcare that they do not have to pay for; but then again, we are living in a time when the birth rate and immigration are falling while emigration rises (because when Britons leave the country to live in a nicer one, that’s unobjectionable), and the influx of different cultures has indisputably enriched our own. Oh, and there’s the fact that -newsflash- these people are also paying tax. And yes, it costs us money to help fund Europe. But what’s the viable, pragmatic alternative? We are big players in the EU, politically and economically. While we might see a short term benefit as more of the budget is kept in Britain (to spend on useful things like, say, cutting the tax rates for the best off while slashing the payments for the worst off), in the long term there seems little benefit to Europe sliding into further financial disarray(except maybe schadenfreude; incidentally, one import we are more than happy to make use of).

No-one could argue convincingly that immigration or remaining in the EU are perfect, flawless ideas that will lead to the perfect society. But I truly fear that the hasty, fear-induced kneejerk reaction of slamming the door on both will lead us to no good place in the long run."

Give 16 year olds the vote- Later.

Since Alex Salmond announced that 16 and 17 year olds would be allowed to vote in the Scottish Independence referendum, there has been some sort of media frenzy; one drop of blood spills from a story into the waters of the press, and there's a sudden frothing and foaming as people spew their thoughts hither and yon. But enough of that laboured metaphor which, honestly, could be applied to anything. A story breaks, people report it. I feel bad for writing that now. I guess it just sounded good at the time.

Anyway, there has been a surprising amount of support for Salmond, with many (even the Times) feeling that the voting age should be dropped by two years for all manner of elections. The general line of argument is repeated enough that I don't have to spell it out here: they can pay taxes, have all these rights and responsibilities, and so on and so forth. And, on balance, I find myself agreeing with this.

Except for one thing.
We're not ready.

I say 'we're'; as of December, I too will be able to rob whichever monkey has a blue rosette pinned to it of one vote in their majority in Mid Worcestershire. Take that, Cameron! Anyway, by 'we' I mean the cohort of 16 and 17 year olds of which I am, for a couple of months, still a member (past that, I dare say senility will strike, and my hairline will recede to be replaced by cynicism, a bad back and a burning desire to think about mortgages). And by 'not ready', I don't necessarily mean it in the patronising 'not mature enough' sense, although the mock election my politics set ran last year, where year 11 swept Nick Griffin to a landslide victory, may beg to differ. How much of this was genuine belief, though, and how much down to the hilarious prank of 'let's support the BNP' (because, you know, voting for them is, like, the funniest thing ever) is another question.

No. We're not ready largely because we have not been prepared. 4 years of Citizenship at high school. Three hours of political education. One of which was spent watching Eastenders, one of which was inventing a party and then holding a little election (the Fun Communists won, mostly due to a rigged ballot. I should know. I rigged it. Although, to paraphrase Blackadder, the 50 or so votes they won in a class of 30 just proves the conviction with which people voted). People tend to complain that teenagers know little of, and show little appreciation for, politics. Well, maybe if more of an effort were made to teach them, to engage with them, than that needn't be a concern. It's absolutely true that teenagers don't perhaps know enough about politics to vote at the moment (but then, it could be argued, have adults been taught any more?). But this isn't sufficient reason to say that they should never be given the vote.

Take it to the system. Get people interested, or at least educated, in politics from a younger age. Develop a more politically mature generation. When society has provided the tools to make it worthwhile, then 16 year olds should be given the vote.

Happy Birthday to Me (Blog)

So. This blog is now a year old.
As befits its birthday (<inset quibble here about blogs not technically being born>. Tough. Mine was. Deal with it), you'd expect some kind of magnum opus to be churned out. A provocative, witty, persuasive, hilarious argument or observation that will blow your socks off.

Good luck finding that.

My back hurts and I can't, frankly, be bothered to celebrate this. So here's a link to an amusing tumblr account.
http://tragedyseries.tumblr.com/

Bah

Blogger has changed.
It has changed the dashboard.
It has changed the look behind the scenes.
It has changed the way you do a new post.

It has changed, and it did not ask me first.


Bah.

Okay, let me make on thing clear. I do not object unreservedly to change in itself (nor do I mean this in the 'I'm not racist, but I do think it's okay to burn crosses while wearing a pointy white hood' sense). Change is all right; it's manageable. But, and here's the key thing, only when it's actually for the better.

Got that, Blogger? Got that, Tesco? Got that, whatever else changes whenever the hell it feels like it without offering a suitable, compelling reason?

I had just got my head around the Blogger system, and was starting to feel comfortable with it. I was perfectly content. But now, presumably with the idea that changing something automatically improves it regardless of what has been changed, it's all gone wrong. Suddenly, I feel ignorant and confused and bewildered and just a little bit scared.

I shall repeat. Bah.

Slang Ahoy!

There's a growing emphasis for many young people about the need to be 'street' (look it up; can't be bothered to explain it right now). However, I can't quite escape the fact that this is inappropriate for that sorely neglected group, the middle classes. They don't want to be seen playing loud hippety-hop in ripped (the tears make them worth more. Duh) clothes. No. It is time for the ground-breaking entrance of a new sub-culture. It is now the era of people proudly wearing fair-trade beanies and pronouncing themselves as 'Avenue'.

• A common initiation for those wishing to be avenue is the peddling of chilli peppers on the streets. For many, it's Scotch or nothing; none of that weak, cut rubbish.
• Many wouldn't dream of being caught outside without the latest clothes from the sales racks at Next and Boden. A serious negation of Avenue Credibility ('Av Cred') could be at stake.
• A popular past time is walking down the streets, bouncing a tennis ball with a racket on the ground, with Coldplay blasting (quietly) from a small speaker.

And now I've run out of steam.