A few songs by John Lennon.

Winter - a poem.

A few of my songs.

Voices (haiku).

Washed out in a sea
Of echoes, we fire off
In loud unison.

Winter.

I stand beside nude trees,
Under a bare sky.
It’s cobalt-coloured – like stripped-bare dreams;
It’s leaden, and naked of life.

The Pavilion is risen tall;
Its grandeur all too clear.
If you’d like to take a winter stroll,
Why don’t you meet me here?

My skin is chilled
And my dreams hang low –
Like a frosty, morning fog.

And I pine for you,
In grumbled tones –
After my keeper,
Like a dog.

If you should see me upon the pavement
With desolate-looking eyes,
Know there’s a sparkle present
And, because of you, my tears have dried.

And I feel I’m not kidding myself
With the undulations of my mind;
No matter what my temperament,
I know you’ll soothe me in tones kind.

The sky is cobalt-blue
And the leaves are in dank piles.
But I’ll walk these paths with you –
And I’ll walk them for miles.

A lighter shade of me....

I know most of the stuff I write is over-serious and leaden, so here are a few uplifting videos courtesy of Nalts:

Judeo-Christian religion and women.

To be a Born-Again Christian means to be as a child - just as Jesus advised. To be born again isn't to see the world through the eyes of a thinking adult who's had his or her views changed; it's to be re-born as a child. We don't need more children on this planet; we need thinking adults.

Throughout the histories of Judaism and Christianity, women have been subjugated and subjected to the most extreme oppression. This sort of thing only stopped occurring towards the end of the nineteenth century. For hundreds of years, women could not vote nor own property; nor could they escape their domestic settings. The first American woman to ever strive to become a lawyer was blocked by the Supreme Court (with an 8-1 majority) some 100 years ago.

The 10th commandment alludes to the fact that women were seen as property to the early Jews. Many Christians will fail to recognise this or wholly deny it. Many don't know that early Jewish men were polygamists who had many wives - King Soloman had 1000 (or so we're told in the Bible).

The 10th commandment states: "Thou shalt not covet your neighbour's house, or his wife, or his plough, or his ox, or his ass." Houses and oxen and ploughs were property - and so were women. Women were 'chattel' (they were personal possessions who could be moved around). Another striking thing about the Old Testament is that it was perfectly acceptable for Jewish - and early Christian - men to sell their daughters into the sex trade. People also kept slaves (provided that these slaves were taken from foreign lands - just as the Egyptians did with the early tribes of Judea; it seems some people never learn).

Before you go to bed tonight, just think about some of the tortures your great-grandmothers had to endure. Think about how women have been treated throughout the centuries. Think about how in some Muslim states (as well as in Israel and some Christian states in Africa and the Far East) women are oppressed and controlled (all because the early Moslems aped the Old and New Testaments). I'm an atheist, but if you wish to pray tonight please pray for all those around the world whom are in dire need of their human rights. Pray for your loved ones and your enemies. Pray for everybody. And if you're not no spineless and idiotic as to think to pray, make real change and help others in your communities.

God in the 21st century.

A few words on prayer by John Shelby Spong.

A talk by John Shelby Spong.

Plan Colombia.

Since 1998, America has been destroying the Colombian countryside under the guise of a collection of anti-drugs policies called 'Plan Colombia'.

This involves spraying large amounts of defoliant (herbicide) over coca fields in order to halt the production of cocaine. There's one thing Americans aren't aware of, though - something entirely more sinister and nefarious: American agribusiness companies are moving into these affected areas and farming crops. These companies employ jobless, displaced peasants and make them work in the agribusiness industry for low pay, under dire working conditions.

Also, vast areas of Colombia are handed over to mining companies and oil companies. Vast swathes of land are strip-mined and destroyed. These acts are the product of American policy and they're supported by western countries such as the UK.

The following videos will provide you with some information:

A joke.

I got into a fight with a dyslexic man today. He told me he was gonna shit the kick out of me.

A review of Changeling.

Changeling tells the story of Christine Collins - a mother who fights tooth and nail against police corruption and unthinkable odds in order to find her missing son, Walter. The film is written by J. Michael Straczynski and directed, produced and scored by Clint Eastwood. The film's message: never start a fight, but always finish it.

The film is set in the bustling, yet seedy, world of LA in the 1920s. Christine oversees a team of switchboard operators and is the single parent of her nine-year-old son, Walter. One day, she leaves work but misses her usual tram, arriving home slightly later than normal. When she returns, her son is nowhere to be found; the gentle piece of music playing begins to turn ominous in tone - a testament to Clint Eastwood's musical prowess. In desperation, she calls the police - who tell her nothing can be done until morning.

Walter goes missing on March 20th, 1928. In August of that same year, she receives an impromptu visit from the LAPD. They tell her that Walter has been found and he's in the process of being returned to her from Ohio (where he was supposedly found in the company of a vagrant man). When she greets him, though, she's struck with awe - he's not her son. In shock, she tells Captain Jones that she doesn't know who he is. He manages to get her to co-operate, though, and the LA press snap pictures of mother and 'son' together.

All seems to be working well until Christine tends to the boy after he slips in the bath - she sees the boy is circumcised. She drags him out into the hallway and measures him - he's three inches shorter than when last measured (five months previous). She calls Captain Jones and he gives her lip-service about what stress can do to a child. She refuses to co-operate so he sends in a counsellor (who proceeds to drag 'Walter' around the neighbourhood in order to have neighbours judge him 'objectively').

Soon, we are greeted with the presence of Reverend Briegleb (played by John Malkovich) - a local pastor who proselytises about the evils of the LAPD on his community radio programme. He asks to meet Christine at the church one morning. When she arrives, he shows her an article printed earlier in the morning insinuating that Christine might not be looking after Walter properly from shock (and so she might be the reason for his extreme physical changes).

Reverend Briegleb says: "Many children have been sacrificed to expediency; your boy is not the first, but, depending on what you choose to do, he might be the last...". He also informs Christine of various corruptions in the LAPD - one such corrpution is that police officers are able to kill criminals if they refuse to co-operate.

With the Reverend's help, Christine succours the confidence to take on the establishment. She receives testimonies from Walter's dentist (who notes extreme differences in the two children's teeth), and his teacher - who also notices differences in behaviour. (Both are prepared to give evidence in a court of law.)

The following morning, Christine gives a statement to the local press outside the town hall, stating that she has testimonies and will soon be speaking out against the corruption and incompetence of the LAPD. An officer present calls Captain Jones and notifies him. He issues an order to have Christine brought back to LAPD headquarters and brought in "through the back door".

Christine is told by the Captain that she's either lying about Walter or she's not aware of the fact that she's lying - either she's a liar or she's crazy. On that basis, he has Christine thrown into an asylum for being a "danger to the public and the peace". He does this illegally without issuing a warrant and also doing so before the warrant is issued - both of which are extremely illegal actions. Meanwhile, an investigator at the LAPD receives a call about a youth holed up illegally in a ranch in Wineville and tends to the case.

When Christine enters the asylum, she pleads with the head nurse to let her go and states that she's being blackmailed by police. She's hosed down and given a brisk, degrading, brusk cavity search. Upon seeing this scene, I couldn't help but juxtapose it with how Angelina Jolie is presented in 'Girl, Interrupted'.

Christine meets a woman called Carol Dexter. She notices that Christine's not eating, so she tells her: "Eat; eating's normal. You gotta do everything you can in here to appear normal." Christine tells her that she's sane, to which Carol replies: "No matter what you do, you'll appear insane - if you smile too much, you're delusional (you're stifling hysteria); if you don't smile, you're depressed; if you remain neutral, you're emotionally withdrawn." Carol states that she was admitted after one of her clients (she was a prostitute) beat her up (the client of which turned out to be a cop). When she lodged a formal complaint to the LAPD, she was thrown into the nuthouse - along with dozens of other innocent girls - under Code 12 of a relevant police act.

When the investigating officer arrives at Wineville, he comes upon a man whose car has broken down at the side of the road. He asks the man where the Northcott Ranch is. The man proceeds to reach into the back of his truck in order to put away his gasoline and he almost reaches for a 12-gauge shortgun he has in back. However, he refrains and gives the policeman directions. The cop arrives at the ranch and looks around the scene (finding an empty chicken coop, and axes and knives strewn about the ground) when he's startled by a boy who sees him and tries to flee into the house. He takes the boy into custody.

Meanwhile, at the asylum, Christine is being studied by the head psychiatrist. Christine tries to remain neutral and unaffected throughout his questioning. When he asks her if she minds how she's been treated, she says that she doesn't - the nurses are just trying to "cover all their bases" (by doing such things as testing for syphilis). When she's asked if Walter is her son, she says no (in stark contrast to the picture of her with 'Walter' at the train station taken in August). When she's asked if the police are just doing their job she says: "Yes; they're here to help," to which the man replies: "Really? That's not what you said to the head nurse - you told her that the police were 'conspiring against you'. Right, Ms Collins?" She begins to crumble.

Reverend Briegleb arrives at the LAPD headquarters shortly afterwards with hundreds of protestors in tow, demanding that Captain Jones tell him where Christine is. He tells her she's in a "safe place" that she needed to go to in order to maintain public peace. When the Reverend leaves, he calls the cop who was previously investigating the Northcott ranch and asks him to return. However, after he interviews the boy - who turns out to be named Sanford Clark - he finds out that the boy and his older cousin (Gordon Northcott) could potentially be at the heart of one of the state's biggest ever murder investigations. Sanford tells the officer that he and his cousin are responsible for the deaths of up to 20 children at the Ranch. When Sanford looks through the pictures of missing children, he picks out several photographs of children he remembers being held at the ranch - one of whom turns out to be Walter Collins.

Upon going back to the ranch with Sanford, the officer (accompanied by several others) asks the boy to dig where he believes the boys' bodies lie. After several minutes he unearths several skeletons. The investigator requests the aid of every officer within a 20-mile radius and phones back to the LAPD. Shortly afterwards, an article is published (which soon comes into the hands of Reverend Briegleb). The reverend storms the asylum along with California's leading civil-case lawyer and orders the release of Christine Collins. (Shortly afterwards - after she tells the men of the mistreatment and illegal holding of innocent, sane women - all of the women being held under Code 12 are released). When Carol and the others leave, we see the dainty frame of Christine (who's wearing her trademark, floral bonnet) standing at the foot of the entrance of the asylum. Carol throws Christine a look of deep gratitude and pride.

'Walter' is interviewed by the investigative officer who found the bodies of the missing boys and he cracks when he's told he could be prosecuted for impeding a police investigation. The boy says that his real name is Arthur Hutchins and that he wanted to come to LA to meet 'Telmex' - a character in a series of films - and ride his horse. Meanwhile, when Gordon returns home to Vancouver to see his sister she has her husband call the police. Soon afterwards he is arrested and taken into custody.

Christine pays for Arthur to be returned home. The Chief of Police oversees his returning. When he greets his mother, the Chief is giving a statement to the LA press. As Arthur is getting on the train, he tells his mother that it wasn't his fault - "It wasn't even my idea; the police told me to do it". The press members hear this comment and note it with curiousness.

At the civil trial, Captain Jones and the Chief of Police are both fired for malpractice, never again entitled to stand in the LAPD. Meanwhile, Gordon Northcott is being tried in a smaller, criminal trial. After the jury deliberates, they reach their verdict: they find him guilty of 20 counts of murder in the first degree. Gordon is sentenced to be hanged after being held for two months.

The final scene we see takes place a few years after Gordon's death. Christine is called by a 'Mrs Clay'. She tells Christine that a boy has been found. He turns out to be David Clay. David tells of how one night he and Walter and another boy escaped through a hole in the coop. Walter and the other boy were out when David became stuck. His noisy attempt at escape roused the attention of Gordon Northcott. Walter went back to help free David and all three escaped. David spent several years moving in and out of orphanages through fear of being faced with a reprisal kidnapping. Christine Collins kept looking for Walter but never found him.

I found the film riveting. The score was simple and elegant and the set pieces made one feel one was immersed in LA as it actually was in 1928. Angelina Jolie played the part of Christine simply and elegantly, bringing the character alive with the gentleness of her eyes alone - each exchange was like softest velvet; some were as knives. It's certainly up there alongside such greats as the Shawshank Redemption, LA Confidential and Stand by Me. It's certainly one of Clint's finest efforts - perhaps even exceeding Million Dollar Baby and Gran Torino - and it offers lots of commentary on contemporary society - if one wants to read it in that way.

Rating: 9/10. If I had a handle on more films I'd give it a 10. It's a little wearisome at over two hours in length but it's a worthy and worthwhile investment.

Town.

The town in which I live is dying;
Sometimes I go out to cry.
But the rain masks my tears
And the night cloaks my fears.

The sky is crushing and cold
And this town's bones are getting old.
The sea's storming the pier
And the squall's all I hear.

Sorrow's a drag and regret's pointless.
We're here; we'll be gone, so why feel the blues?
But the jobs have all gone
And I'm left without Sun.

The TV screen flickers in the evening.
I'm sitting here with cans of beer and spite.
Some girl's on TV
But she's not singing for me tonight.

The lads 'round my way all want blood.
To them life is worth less than mud.
They all hide their eyes
And shout slurs in the night.

The town in which I live is dying;
Sometimes I go out to cry.
The sky's grey and looms
Like it's pregnant with gloom.

With hearts on our sleeves,
We die and we bleed.
With hearts on our sleeves,
We die and we bleed.

How do religious people manage to get out of bed in the mornings?

If I were a Christian (or any devotee of one of the Abrahamic religions), I don't think I'd be able to get out of bed in the mornings. For 1200 years, the Catholic church ruled Europe with snipe and subversion and torture and repression until the first awakenings of the Renaissance in the 1500s.

In that time, people believed they knew everything there was to know. They thought the Earth was at the centre of the solar system - and possibly the universe - until the Copernican revolution; they thought the Sun and planets and stars orbited the Earth in 'spheres' and perfect circles (hence the expression: 'music of the spheres'); they thought the stars had a bearing on destiny; they thought mental illness was caused by demonic possession (the usual 'cure' was to drill a hole in the afflicted's head through which the demon would pass); they thought that comets were portents highlighting God's wrath at the sinful multitudes (or possibly highlighting the imminent downfall of certain kings - as happened in 1066); they believed they were made in God's image out of dust; they believed women were inferior and infidels should be held as slaves and chattel.

I don't think I could get up in the mornings with the knowledge that some deity might hold a definite plan for my life. I don't think I could get up if I thought that everything was known and that there were no more triumphs to be had. I don't see how Christians can get up in the mornings with their short-sighted, stunted views on reality.

I don't see how Christians can assume to have definite knowledge on the cosmos and its origin, and the origin of man. I don't think I could get up assuming the world is 6,013 years old and that the Renaissance was a bad thing. I don't think I could get up if I were to believe that women are subordinate and that certain peoples can rightly and justifiably be held as slaves. I don't think I could get up if I were a Christian. My current awe at the beauty of nature would be expunged and replaced with a numbing, dogmatic nothingness. The beauty of evolution and its tangible and delicate dancings through time would be gone. If I were a Christian, there would be nothing more to live for. If I were a Christian, I would follow the teachings of Christ.

A short polemic against school uniforms.

You might think it an odd topic - and possibly a marginal one - but I have several things to say on the subject of secondary education. Every year, hundreds of thousands of primary school children are shipped off to their new state indoctrination centres to learn single, national accounts of history - in other words, they're taught to be able to justify things Britain has done in its past.

In primary school, the uniforms are usually incredibly twee and cute - crisp cotton shirts with large collars, woollen or cotton jumpers with the school emblem emblazonded on the breast, and, invariably, neat black trousers and clunky leather shoes (my trousers invariably had holes in them around where my knees would sit).

In secondary school, the uniforms are often more casual - I never wore a school jumper or a blazer; I'd usually trade it for a jumper, a plain hoody or a rain coat. Also, black trainers (or white ones for the next generation of thugs) are usually the choice footwear of today's children.

I haven't got to my point yet and I don't intend to labour it, but my point is this: why should school children have to wear uniforms? In my view, they shouldn't. School uniforms encourage children to look and act the same - they're already encouraged to think the same.

Certain subjects are essential: English grammar should be taught in English classes, maths should be taught proficiently, and so should science. English literature is also important - as is History - but I think it's second to the former subjects. The most important faculty any child should possess, though, is the ability to think critically; it's not enough to be able to read words on a page and understand, roughly, a given point or argument - children should be able to scrutinise rigorously what they read.

So, should children wear uniforms? No. Uniforms encourage uniformity - go figure! - and homogenisation. Individuality should be the only message inculcated into children. We need a next generation of adolescents capable of critical thinking who can detect and scrutinise the mistakes of their elders. It seems our educational system is failing. Perhaps it's time parents took the initiative. Is this or is this not a democracy?

Female circumcision.

Over 80 million Christian women in the Third World have had their clitorises forcibly removed in order to reduce sexual stimulation (and thus 'prevent' them from commiting adultery). Women who suffer this custom often succumb to chronic infection problems (as well as social disorders (and lameness in general)). Here's a video detailing this most horrific custom:

On last night's Question Time.

Last night, over eight million people tuned in to watch Question Time - four times its usual audience. The media storm surrounding Nick Griffin's appearance had whipped up much interest.

Many of the audience and panel's questions were directed at Mr Griffin, and, in answering them, his responses were flummoxed and came across as being desperate. (He also often failed to answer questions relating to stances he'd taken up in his past.)

Quotes about his party's evocations of Churchill and Hitler were put to him - many of which he denied saying - and he was also asked to justify comments he made at an American political rally at which the former head of the Ku Klux Klan was present.

He is believed to have said that his party would conceal their true nature until election time and dupe in members of the British public by using 'saleable' words such as 'freedom', 'democracy' and 'identity' (identity being a euphemism for race to him). He also said that he hoped to achieve control of the BBC if elected. Mr Griffin denied saying these things (despite the fact that one can hear him say them in a short Youtube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04QolIvfQEw).

On the show, he disparaged Muslims and said that 'if Churchill were alive, he would be a member of the BNP.' He also disparaged Jack Straw's father (a conscientious objector during WW2 who was imprisoned), saying that his own father flew in the Royal Airforce.

At one point, he insinuated that 'indigenous' British people have been on this isle for 17,500 years - despite definite knowledge that the first Britons were Picts (a Celtic tribe who were present here some 4,000 years ago and were driven westwards by the Romans) and the Angles and Saxons didn't arrive until around 500 AD.

He also insinuated that his party stands for 'traditional, British, Christian values'. I wonder whether the admonition 'Do not judge, lest ye be judged' means much to Mr Griffin?

Although it's fair to say an unfair amount of time was spent probing Mr Griffin's beliefs and politics, I think such probing was a justified and necessary evil. He's a sickening character and I think he showed his willingness to deceive the public fully last night.

As of midday today, he has stated that he is due to lodge a formal complaint to the BBC for his 'unfair' treatment, and he has also challenged Jack Straw and David Cameron to formal debates.

I sincerely hope that no more platforms will be granted to him. I agree with Peter Hain that it might now appear to BNP enthusiasts that his party is as legitimate as any other major party purely because he's been allowed to take part in formal, televised debate.

His politics are disgraceful, deceitful and fascistic (and technically illegal because of his party's refusal to allow ethic minorities membership), and he deserves no recognition. I think we've all seen him for the callow, hollow, callous man he is. I hope sensible people will not identify with his claims about being treated unfairly. Sympathising with him would be playing right into his hands.

Creation.

This afternoon, out of sheer chance, I remembered that Creation is still being shown in cinemas. (For those of you who don't know - or might be fooled by the title - it's a biopic of Charles Darwin and his grand theory of evolution - the theory of which changed for ever the image of man within the cosmos.)

Upon looking around, though, I've found no cinemas in Brighton that are showing it - not even The Duke of York's Picturehouse. I'm thoroughly disgusted that fear and monetary sensibilities go before educational value in this country. Even if the picture were to have some inadequacies or bad character acting I'd still see it.

My faith in the secular nature of my country has been slightly shaken and I'm left feeling perturbed and dispeptic, with the odd taste of bile hanging around in the back of my throat.

Chicken.

Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it was paid twenty pounds to fulfil the punch line of a very poor joke.

Patton Oswalt - Sky Cake.

A link to Charlie Brooker's Gameswipe.

After browsing through last night's late-night programming, I came across Charlie Brooker's newest series: Gameswipe (which I wasn't even aware of until last night). Here's the link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00n1j8q/Charlie_Brookers_Gameswipe/

Lenny Bruce: All Alone.

Wormwood.

My heart is the wormwood
To your worms.
The soft fibres make
A tasty treat for your termites.

I left my heart unconcealed
In the rain,
Like the fallen trunk
Of a once-great oak.

I'm so easily consumed;
The first fallen leaf of autumn -
Always the litter;
Never the growth.

I don't know what I am anymore.
I don't know what I am.
I'm a pliable putty
Hoping love will deform me.

I woke up this morning,
Borne in a whirlpool of understanding,
And saw you naked -
Even though you were fully clothed.

Five jokes.

My girlfriend's into anal sex... she's very frigid and very rarely does anything other than missionary.

My dog's a detective. The other day, a local pet shop was broken into and some dog merchandise was stolen. Upon investigating the scene, my dog was asked by the shopkeeper: 'So, are you any the wiser yet?' To which my dog replied: 'No: we've no leads yet; we've yet to collar anyone.'

Why did the nigger cross the road? To get away from you, you fucking bigot. You disgust me.

My father often tells me I'm a terrible bastard. Apparently, my elder brother - who was also conceived outside of wedlock - is a much better one.

There's an indoor swimming pool in my town one can go to that re-creates the conditions of night swimming during the day-time.

A story about a young boy.

The afternoon of the event is as hazy in my mind as the memory itself. It was a sunny afternoon. It might have been May. I think I was nine or ten years old.

On the afternoon in question, several of my friends - kids I hung around with who also picked their noses and scabs - beat up a boy in the year below me. When they were found out, they said that I'd been involved, too.

We were lead to the headmaster's office. His name was Mr Marshall. He was of Welsh stock. He had white-haired knuckles; thick, black hair, and a booming, baritone voice. He was a traditional disciplinarian. I sat outside his office terrified. I felt abandoned, and ashamed of myself for being such a helpless child.

I faced the wall outside his office and started to cry. He was motioned out by our school's kindly secretary, Mrs Smith - I think she was fucking the lollipop man with the screwy eye.

He started to scold each of us. 'Don't cry! Don't you all feel sorry?' He loomed over us. He approached me: 'What are these crocodile tears, boy?' I can't remember what happened next but I was suspended for several days. I was collected - I can't remember by whom - and I remained silent.

This must've happened on a Friday, as the first time I said that I'd not been involved was at my nan's house - I always used to stay with her on weekends. When I told her - on Saturday - she called me daft and, although she had a cold presence, she cared deeply for me. She was, more or less, a surrogate mother who'd take me every weekend 'til I was ten or eleven years old.

My nan made some calls. On Monday morning, I sat in Mr Marshall's office and told him I'd had no part in it (in the shyest, mousiest kiddie voice I could muster). He looked at me, puzzled, and couldn't wipe the quizzical look from his face. The boy who'd been beaten up was called in and sat down next to Mr Marshall. 'Was he involved in the fight?' he asked the boy. After several seconds - an infinity to a child - he said: 'No, sir.'

'Okay,' Mr Marshall replied. 'You're free to go.' As I left the room I was silent and had an odd smirk splashed across my face. In retrospect, I wonder what Mr Marshall felt as I left the room. A girl, Amy Austyn, asked me why I took the bullet. I didn't know then; I don't know now - through fear of social reproach or fear of Mr Marshall? Maybe. They weren't even my friends: they were just kids who came to my birthday parties and whose birthday parties I attended. Amy's got a kid now. God knows what happened to Mr Marshall - he left for retirement in 2000.

It's been a long time....

It's now October, and autumn is upon us. Halloween is due shortly, and the Brighton Comedy Festival is soon to be under way. To usher in this new month, I've decided to write a post which encompasses several things. I'll begin....

First, I have a few words to say on the popular and persistent confusing of the words fewer and less. Less applies to uncountable nouns; fewer to countable nouns. You're probably feeling slightly nonplussed right now, so I'll clarify the point. If a noun can be counted, use fewer: I have fewer inhibitions than him; five items or fewer. For uncountable nouns, use less: I have less hope now; I take a bit less sugar in my tea, thanks.

Second, I have a few words to say on gerunds and participles. They're both altered forms of verbs. Gerunds are verbs that have been inflected and function as nouns, whereas participles are verbs that have been inflected and function as adjectives. For example:

Gerunds: skiing, baking, sewing, knitting, running, jogging - the suffix -ing has been added to change these verbs into nouns.

Participles come in two forms: present and past and usually come at the end of clauses or sentences. For instance:

• Past: Jim was sleeping; he was robbed a few days ago; Jim has just arrived;
  
• Present: Jim will be arriving any minute; he's a dying man; I'm leaving now.
  

As a rule, past participles end in the suffix -ed and present participles end in the suffix -ing. Sometimes, a participle can cause ambiguity if left in the wrong place and becomes what's known as a dangling participle. For instance, in the sentence whilst walking back home, a car knocked me over it seems as though the car is walking back home - which is impossible, of course. In cases such as this, the sentence should be re-written - the former sentence should read: a car knocked me over as I walked back home or whilst I walked back home, a car knocked me over.

Third, I have a few words to say on the word thanks (or the phrase thank you). Thank you should be used for occassions in which gratitude is to be expressed sincerely. If a mailman hands you your post, you might thank him. But why? He's just doing his job; he hasn't gone out of his way to help you - if he were to give you twenty pounds and some German pornography you might thank him. And if you ever receive marketing calls, the person on the other end will blather on indefinitely about inane products and interject several times with the odd thanks or thank you for waiting (or - God forbid - good-good). Such usage is spineless and insincere, and it sickens me. In the same vein, the word sorry is used excessively these days. I no longer find myself saying excuse me any more, but rather sorry - as if I'm a perpetual inconvenience (alongside every other person on this planet).

Fourth, I'd like to address another lexical confusion: the difference between artist and artiste. An artist is one who expresses something in a way that transcends normal experience (through language or physical expression or painting); an artiste is a cheap entertainer.

Finally, I want to touch on the subject of death - specifically death in the military and police. When one conscripts into the army or police force one understands the dangers one might face, and yet every time a person in, for instance, Afghanistan dies we're told it's a tragedy. It isn't. Civilian deaths are tragedies - as they're unprecedented and can't be accounted for. It might be tragic if a serviceman were shot in a post office by a disenfranchised postal worker, though. If you're in the army, carrying a gun around in some other schmuck's country, you'd better expect some shit. And if you die, don't expect any tears from me; if you don't want to get shot or blown up by an IED, stay the fuck out of Afghanistan.

A musing on the programme 'The View'.

The View should be renamed A View, because that's all it is - a view (or a series of views presented by women). If it were an actual view, I doubt it would be very clear - it'd be cloudy out and all the scenic beauty would be obscured by dense fog.

Also, the English version of the programme - Loose Women - is so called because each of the presenters has had too many children for their own good.

A few new jokes.

Do you wonder whether self-conscious homosexual men ever meet up, get drunk, and then go out and beat up heterosexual men?

Cancer-prevention is a growth industry.

A new abortion clinic recently opened up in Brighton. Unfortunately - due to high demand - there's a waiting list of nine months.

Most homosexual men are still in the closet because they have a penchant for fashion.

I was at a very formal dinner party the other night with several people with high-pitched voices when a man with a baritone voice entered the room and told a very crude joke. That certainly lowered the tone of the evening.

After unsuccessfully looking around for some tea-flavoured fruit, I eventually settled on Twining's tea.

A run-down on a few of today's events.

Seeing as I'm feeling quite alert as of now, I'm gonna comment on a few things I've seen and heard today.

First, due to the immediacy of the thing, I'm gonna mention Derren Brown's lottery stunt (which aired at 10.35pm on channel four). I have one word to say on the subject: Wow! (If I were five years younger, I might say: Wtf?)

Second of all, I'd like to give a few words on something I heard today which is, frankly, one of the most absurd things I've ever heard. Someone told me the streets of Brighton were quite empty today because of fears of terrorism (regardless of the overcast weather). But why? Well, what's the date today? The 9th of September 2009: 09/09/09. What does that mean? Nothing, I hear you say - and quite rightly. But what if you turn those numbers upside-down? Yes: you get 06/06/06. A terrorist threat? Today? I'm not sure if the idiots circulating this shit are aware of the following fact, but surely one would have to be a Satanist - and only a Satanist - to want to commit such a terrorist act. Oh yeah! There are no Satanist terrorist groups! (Also, the number of The Beast is actually 616.)

Lastly, I heard from someone that a recent census revealed that Mohammed is the second most popular name in the UK - the first is Oliver. You may have been accosted by an idiotic, reactionary, Sun- or Daily Mail-reading friend today who told you about said 'story' and then paused for several seconds, only to finish off your little encounter with: Yeah, it's scary, innit? Okay, first of all, Mohammed is a popular name because it's the name of the prophet: a lot of Muslim men are called Mohammed. Mohammed is as integral a part of the Muslim family as mum and dad - and perhaps even more so. Why does the fact that some people choose to name their male children after the prophet rather than a famous orphan bother non-Muslim people? The fact that it's a popular name in no way reflects on the size of Britain's Muslim population. All it shows is that Mohammed is a common name amongst Muslims.

Keep your minds open, folks. I'm just trying to hold my lights up to the great void and inculcate a little rationalism into your day-to-day. Keep on reading!

Jimi Hendrix - Hear My Train Coming.

Hear My Train A Comin Acoustic - Jimi Hendrix

Quit whilst you're ahead!

Why would one quit whilst one is ahead? Surely, quitting whilst one is behind is more preferable. Don't quit entirely, though, because quitting's for losers!

Surf's up, dude!

The surf is not up; the waves are up. The surf is down!

Let the good times roll....

The phrase let the good times roll seems to me to exist only because the good times have their ups and downs - their peaks and troughs. Why not let the good times flow...? That sounds like a much better metaphor to me.

Revelry.

When hearts as free as wolves released
Are out on high to roam as beasts
They plumb the depths and scale the heights,
Like anchors tethered to willful kites.

The nights are long and people are free
To sing what songs grant them fecundity.
And as beer-sozzled minds trail off in haste
Our actions oft leave a bitter taste.

Such closeness is shared and feelings are expressed
In such rapid succession that we love and detest
In the same moment, 'til our minds stop and say:
You could have it any other way.

I stand in the corner like some ignominious crow -
Like some field in waiting for seeds to sow -
And I laugh heartily and let my fears pass the latch,
Even though I fear and feel detached.

The girls all dance and sing their songs
Whilst men drone on in irksome throngs.
Yet what brilliant couples couples make
When they're coupled in love for coupling's sake.

A drunken ramble at 1am
Will seem inscrutable in the morning.
And like the Sun in rising to greet us,
Renewed feelings will start dawning.

In drunken revelry we share
The nights, like fireflies that elude;
We drink, though we know we might crumble,
And wait for passion's food.

I try to numb this numbness with alcohol
And yet a frozen shroud creeps over my skin.
I don't know what my life means,
But at least when I'm hungover I'll feel something.

A funny and insightful video on the 'N' word.

http://www.milkandcookies.com/link/59858/detail/

The word nigger is not offensive in and of itself - it depends on the context in which it's being used. However, the historial context of the word does rouse some intense emotion from black people. Like Richard Pyror said: "People use the word nigger to describe their own wretchedness."

The word nigger - when placed inside a historical context - means a lazy, no good, untrustworthy black person - and it often encompasses criminal acts, aswell. Nowadays, though, young people throw it around colloquially.

My point is this: shouldn't ignorant, stupid people be allowed to use the word? If it's banned, how will we be able to identify these racist morons and subject them to intense ridicule?

Stopping someone who wants to use the word from using the word will only allow them to savour their ignorance and hatred for other occasions (it could in fact allow them to intensify their feelings for more personal occasions and cause them to commit violent acts against black people).

No word should be banned. People should be educated on the usages of certain words and why certain words shouldn't be uttered; they should not be prevented from being allowed to say them. Let ignorant people be ignorant - that way, we can have more fun laughing at them for the insensitive pricks they are.

Belief.

Belief can exist only in the absence of logic and knowledge. Belief is only compatible with ignorance: ignorance of science; ignorance or morality; ignorance of logic.

Several weeks ago, I would've called myself an atheist. Whilst I do not believe that atheism is a form of religion - atheism deals with the rejection of religion, after all - I recognise that atheists make an unknowable claim about the universe: that there is no God.

An agnostic must live by the credo: knowledge is only knowledge if it can be demonstrated to be true - if it can be demonstrated to reflect something factual about the universe. (This popular definition of agnosticism as being something along the lines of wishy-washy and on-the-fence is false - after all, the word agnostic comes from the Greek gnosis, meaning to know.)

If you believe in sin, or Hell, or that the human body is dirty, or that people who follow different religions are heathen being tempted by Satan and must be saved, all I can say to you is this: the fault lies with the creator. This kind of work does not belong on the résumé of an all-powerful being; this is the kind of work expected from an office temp with a bad attitude. Sure there is beauty in the world, and the duality of good and evil exists, but those concepts do not exist because of God; they exist because people have free will.

Before the Big Bang, there was no universe; there was no matter, time or space (space-time). So, before the universe came into being, there was nothing. To create something, something must exist in time and space. Therefore, there can be no God. Also, if God dwells in the universe he can't be creator: he would be part of the creation, after all.

The image of God as a bearded, old, fearful, vengeful man was adopted from Greek and Roman statues of Zeus and Jupiter, and the story of Jesus has elements taken from it from stories which go back as far as 2,000 or 3,000 years before his birth - just google Isis and Horus/Osiris (Osiris was an Egyptian man who lived and died as Christ did, and was born to a virgin - Isis - on the 25th of December*). God is a patriarchal creation because men seek to control; and male gods are always depicted as being vengeful and dealing in destruction.

*December 25th plays a big role in world religions because it co-incides with the winter solstice - the point at which the Sun sinks to its lowest point and appears to be stationary for several days. The rising of the Sun after this period has been made symbolic within religions as the point at which prophets (i.e. the Sun) are born. December 25th has always been an important date in astrology.

An interesting and brilliant video on ontology.

Supernova.

The cigarette-puffing hipster Hicks
Died at thirty-two years of age.
He was the voice of a silenced America.
He personified the stage.

Lenny Bruce killed himself
At fourty years of age.
He served four months for obscenity.
He was too young to meet the grave.

Jimi Hendrix died
At just twenty-seven.
We stood all along the watchtower
To watch him ascend to Heaven.

Jim Morrison was young
When he kicked the bucket.
When faced with the dick of corporate bullshit
He swore to never suck it.

Like stars of searing brilliance
They didn't last too long.
Their bulks were too big to sustain
So they burst in fiery song.

Some stars burn brightly
With controlled fusion.
Thank God Carlin and Pryor
Didn't succumb to illusion.

Cobain and Christ and Ledger
Died before their time.
Supernovas are born every minute,
And, boy, when they go do they shine.

A quick musing.

The word zeal (noun) means a fervently held belief. A zealot (noun) is someone who believes in a particular cause vehemently. The adjectival - as well as adverbial - form of the noun zeal is zealous: a zealous person. The adverbial form of the word zeal is zealously, as in: he believes in it zealously. But we also have the adjective/adverb overzealous, which means believing in something in an excessive way. My question is, how can someone be overzealous? To be overzealous must mean to be more than zealous. Surely that's physically impossible? (In another way, overzealous could mean unnecessarily zealous - again showing the warped nature of the 21st century mind.) If you're gonna accept that word, I'm gonna start speaking of people as being megazealous. That's my word now! (God forbid kids should start saying uberzealous!)

Idioms - part 1.

An idiom is typically defined as a phrase relevant to a certain culture which can't be understood to an outsider by its component parts. Sound like a mouthful? Good. For example, the phrases sour grapes, white elephant, elephant in the room and monkey's uncle are all idiomatic phrases. (I.e. only an English person can understand them - they would have to be explained in full to non-English people.)

A few thoughts on race (courtesy of George Carlin).

After reading Brain Droppings, I've gleaned a few brilliant ideas. The first regards race - specifically being black. The politically correct phrase people of colour really means the same thing as coloured (stemming from a time when white people believed black people were coloured - as in dirty, impure and tainted).

But have you really ever met a black person? Aren't they all really just different shades of brown and tan? And what about Indians? Their skin is often as dark and yet they're considered more similar to white people and they're never called black; they're not even called brown. And often, dark-skinned white people have darker skin than light-skinned black people. And white people are really just different shades of pink and beige. So why is colour so important? The answer: it's not. It's meaningless.

Another suspect phrase is African American (or Afro-American). Why are only black people considered African American? What about Egyptians? They live on the African continent and yet they're never called African. If you met an Egyptian living in America, you'd think him middle-eastern; not African American. And what about South African white people? Afrikaans. They're African, and yet - if one moved to America - they wouldn't be called African American. Why? Because they're white. It's casual racism, folks. Just call black people black. It's harmless, it's descriptive and it's not racist.

And, whilst we're on the topic of race, I'd like to say a few words on Native Americans. First off the bat, Native Americans are not natives - people have been moving around since time immemorial; if you truly want to know what nativism is, go to the Great Rift Valley in Ethiopia - that's where humans' early ancestors originally lived. (Isn't it oddly poetic how no humans currently live in the Great Rift Valley?)

Second of all, Native Americans aren't American. Before white people - their masters and oppressors - came along, they probably had a different name for their country (if they were even aware of it being a country - there were obviously just tribal lands before white people came into the picture; there was never an America). Why would Native American be their chosen term? Why would they choose to name themselves after the people who stole their country from them, killed most of their people and put the rest of them on substandard reservation land? In fact, Native Americans find the term Native American insulting.

When Christopher Colombus* first encountered Native Americans he dubbed them una gente in dios (Indian - see?), which means a people in God. Doesn't sound so bad, huh? The word Indian has nothing to do with the fact that Columbus was looking for quicker trade roots to India and instead found a couple of huge immovable continents; nor is Indian derogatory - the word is just oddly convenient and so gets misappropriated. (Also Colombus only made it to South America after his fourth try - he originally landed on a little island which was later to be called Cuba.)

So, whilst most people think the term American Indian is politically incorrect, it is in fact the better term to Native American. But you know what an even better term is? No: not red-skin, you racist bastard. Call them by their tribal names - the names which used to represent them but which have now vanished into obscurity. Cherokee, Sioux, Apache, Blackfoot, Navaho, Blackfeet, Huron, Erie, Tomahawk.... You got it.

*The word Columbus is actually an anglicisation - the real spelling of the eponymous Italian's name is Colombus. The country is Colombia; not Columbia.

The inequities of meat production.

Here are some disturbing facts about meat production and farming in general:

• It takes around 450 gallons of water to produce a pound of red meat;
• It takes 26 kilograms of grain to produce a single kilogram of red meat (whereas it takes only 3.4 kilograms of grain to produce a kilogram of chicken);
• Cattle consume half of the world's fresh water;
• Male chicks are often automatically killed after being sorted from female chicks - the preferred way of doing this is via a grinder;
• Farming is responsible for 18 per cent of all greenhouse gas emissions (especially methane, which is twenty times more efficient at trapping heat than carbon dioxide);
• Livestock occupy more than 30 per cent of the Earth's entire land surface;
• In Latin America, more than 70 per cent of natural rainforests have been turned over to food production - this causes topsoil erosion and is gradually causing land to dry out irreversibly (this process is known as desertification);
• Because of the European Union's Common Agricultural Policy (CAP), farmers are guaranteed to be paid a certain sum - regardless of whether quotas are reached. Our taxes guarantee farmers this sum;
• If excess food is produced, it's bought by the government and sold - again, we pay for this through taxation;
• If countries like America reduced their meat intake by 10% this year, 60 million people in the third world could be prevented from starving to death;
• Artificial fertilisers such as nitrates and phosphates require huge petroleum inputs and can cause eutrophication (the process of which kills fresh water fish and other fresh water species every year in their thousands);
• A meat-based diet requires seven times as much land as a vegetable-based diet;
• In a given year, a land area of 0.2 hectares can produce 1.5 kilograms of grain, whereas, on the same plot, the yield of root vegetables would be 6.8 kilograms;
• In 1993, US farm animals were fed 192.7 million tonnes of feed concentrates - the bulk of it being corn - in order to produce 31.2 million tonnes of carcass meat – making for a ratio of 6.2 to 1;
• Because energy is lost to cattle and chickens through natural processes, such as excretion, movement, respiration and reproduction, many animals are now farmed in a battery way - i.e. they live in enclosed, small spaces with their movements restricted. Because of the extraordinary amount of weight some cattle carry, cattle regularly experience agonising pain in the form of leg troubles;
• Even though the average bull or cow will excrete 40 kilograms of manure for every kilogram of beef produced, farmers prefer to use chemical fertilisers rather than utilising manure (as a natural fertiliser);
• Farmers are responsible for the deaths of many rare and beautiful predatory species, including different types of wolf (the Red Wolf has almost been hunted to extinction in the lower American states);
• Around 80,000 coyotes are killed each year in the US;
• Organic farming saves energy, uses less land, is less wasteful, prevents erosion and is more humane;
• Unlike meat, some grains require no further treatment and don't need to be refrigerated;
• Roughly a fifth of the world's land area is used for grazing - twice the area required to grow crops;
• Grazing species displace wild species;
• Fish farming in coastal areas can spread disease, and faecal matter can pollute local water systems;
• Sea nets often trap seabirds and such things as turtles, porpoises and cetations;
• In some Pacific countries, sharks are caught, their fins are removed, and then they're thrown back into the ocean to bleed to death - shark fin soup is a delicacy in many Asian countries.

Behind the above points there lingers a deep philosophical question. It regards human nature. On one level, we are animals - the same as all other species. We need food. We are mammals and we are omnivores. We need sustenance. On another level, we are evolved, moral beings with primate brains. On which level we operate is our choice, but it's an interesting one and it says a lot about human nature. We can see what consequences our actions have and we can see the suffering our actions impose indirectly on animals and people all over the planet. What actions should we take?

What are the solutions?

Eating low on the food chain is a powerful way to reduce the amount of land needed to support your existence (your ecological footprint). Less farmland means more natural areas. It also means less soil erosion, fewer dams, less pesticide use and less energy use.

A vegetarian diet is also healthier for the body. Numerous studies show that vegetarian foods greatly help in the prevention of heart disease, cancer and many other diet-related diseases (whereas red meat consumption has been linked with such ailments as heart disease and high blood pressure - due to the high calorific content of red meat).

As the earth's human population continues to expand, two things are critical for our survival: adequate food resources and intact wilderness areas. One sure way to achieve both is a dramatic shift in food choices, away from animal products toward plant-based foods.

The transition to vegetarian and vegan lifestyles from meat-eating lifestyles is ideal, but it isn't essential: all that is necessary is a reduction in meat consumption, coupled with a change in eating habits - more pulses, chicken, salads and root vegetables. An emphasis on organic farming is also needed.

We in the west have to ask ourselves this question: can we continue to live like kings at the expense of millions of other people? It's a moral question, and it's an issue which is going to greatly affect our lives in the future whether we like it or not. Something's gotta give....

Margaret Atwood on religion.

Margaret Atwood is a renowned feminist author. Her book The Handmaid's Tale depicts a scenario in which the Old Testament is adopted as the founding stone of a new American totalitarian regime.

In this regime, women are forced to be handmaid's to men - they have to cook, clean and bear children, otherwise they will either be hung as dissenters or sent out into the irradiated world beyond to die slow and painful deaths.

In these three videos, Margaret gives her views on religion. I found them very profound. Enjoy them: