With a Rock in my hand.

It's so good to be back on the non-fiction. As much as I loved my break filled with vampire romance I am truely suited to reading non-fiction books, or fiction books that are non-fiction laced with a ficticious surrounding (like 1984, the catcher in the rye, on the road, Chuck Palanhuick's life works).


(can I just say, and this is off-topic, VLC plays ANYTHING, best media player ever for that.)

There were a couple of articles I read today in the most recent issue of Adbusters that really grabbed my attention.

Two of them are actually on the adbusters website and they can be found here:



This one is about hipsters.

I think Eilidh and I used to call them scene-sters back in the day, and now they have grown into hipsters.

I was quite alarmed when I read it because a lot of the things that they list off as 'ways to identify a hipster' are things that I have done in the past, or that I am currently doing. On futher inspection and with continued reading I realised that I am not a hipster, because I couldn't care less. The things that I buy and especially the clothes I wear are more-so because I don't give a rat's tail most of the time. Yes, there is a certain look I want, it's a Vikki Miller Queen of the World look, however, I just do, I don't really think about it any more. I used to go out of my way to try and stand out, but now I don't really care.

The other thing in that article spoke about trends of music and film and how things are popular among the hipsters until too many people like it. Now, this is something I am guilty of. I think I have a low tolerance level, or at least I used to, because I am certainly better and just getting on my with life and not worrying about what other people are doing or how they are perceiving me (not that I don't care completely, just that I am better than I was). I have been known to stop liking things when they get overly popular, this is moreso because I hate manipulation, market anything in the right way and it will sell, this has been proven on many occasions. For things to get overtly popular without the correct slow and painful method, means there has been some kind of subliminal marketing which tells people to buy something because it will verify their identity. Sounds harsh? Well it's the truth.

That's why I stop liking things, because I do not want to be associated with the fad, the movement, the genre that is being promoted and the meaning that gives to my identity. I want my own identity, not one manufactured by someone else. This is why popular songs from the 90s/80s and even a couple of months ago, I will now listen to again. Because the blood-sucking marketers have moved on to use something else to exploit the generation with.

I dislike, however, that art is getting mixed up with the hipster genre. Not all art school atendees are hipsters. There are plenty of genuine artists, and to use old film cameras or polaroid is not just to be cool, it's an attempt to bring reality back to a digital world. None of this is the hipsters fault and I hate the way the article segregates them and makes them sound like imposters or heathen's. They are recycling clothing like the environmentalists tell them to do, they are being creative in dress and with art. Granted, I hate that they are my competition, but that's just because they are better than me (at art, and angsty teen blogs - I no longer than the teen, just the angst).

Moving on though.

This article is about tupperware

After reading it I really want to go to a tuperware party, call me a molly mormon but I do. I want to go and bend plastic and oooo and aaaah over how strong and airtight plastic can be. I, however, do not want to go to a taser party. Well, not unless it was a self defence party, where we were actually taught something useful other than how to carry a weapon and still look good. I bet half of the women, if not all, that own those leopard print tasers (leopard print is pretty cool) won't even be able to get them out of their bags. They will be mugged regardless because no one told them they will be shocked, they will be scared but they have to be in the mindset and use their addrenaline rush to take action (if it's safe). I'm sure some of those women might end up injured because they resort to using their laser taser faser mcgaser instead of their own common sense.

It's a shame common sense isn't sold with leopard print patterns, the world might make a little more sense if it was.

Here comes the hard slaught for me. (how good a word is slaught?) The next two articles I am going to type-a type-a type-a (like lil vicky's school of dance, but not, because I have two k's I am borderline racist).

This is from an unknown page of Adbusters number 79.

the page number is unknown because they don't have page numbers.

9/11
When foreign fighters flew into the World Trade Centre, America's confidence was shaken to the core. But instead of reinventing itself once again, America has come undone.

Today, the US is bogged down in a war that is both unpopular and unwinnable. It's economy is on the verge of collapse. Washington is paralyzed with calcified politics and unable to create sustainable energy policy, break its addiction to debt or stop antagonizing foreign foes.

But for the first time, America cannot point the finger at an identifiable enemy. For the first time, America must come to terms with the fact that this is a self-inflicted crisis. The question now is whether America can survive this latest challenge and remain one of the world's most dominant powers, or whether its confidence has finally been broken for good.



There is no author for that. My comments on this are that what I've been saying for the past few weeks is correct. Granted, I say it as a proud joke, but I do believe that the United States are going to need help, and I suspect that the empire - that is the Great British Empire - will start to reform. The United Kingdom will need help as well, but we have picked ourselves up again and again, as a nation. Granted, i've not been alive for the past times and the quality of the majority of this nations citizens has somewhat deteriorated in the past few decades. So it will be interesting to see if we can stay afloat. I think our cynicism and our dour faced nature, our grip on reality, mixed with our inability to actually complain properly will see us through.

Okay, here's the next article:

begging for more by Kono Matsu

Two years ago, in his annual state of the union address, President Bush chastised America for its raginig addiction to foreign oil. In the stern language of disapproving patriarch, Bush let it be known that he intended to address the growing problem before his tenure was up.

Now, with only a few scant months of his presidency remaining, Bush has finally unveiled his energy plan. After begging and barely getting the Saudis to pump more oil, he is attempting to strong-arm Congress into lifting the ban on offshore drilling. Bush's plan, which would cause untold environmental damage, will only yeild enough oil to support our current level of consumption for two-and-a-half years. And were the drilling to start tomorrow, it wouldn't become available in the market for at least a decade.

Some plan.

So why didn't Bush start by suggesting that Americans drive less, drive slower, or stop driving altogether? Why didn't he urge funding for alternative fuel research or push for a carbon tax?

The reason is because, in addition to being the most inept leader this country has ever known, Bush is an oil man.

We never had a chance.

Seven years of Bush policy has left America crushed by debt, stuck in Iraq and isolated from the rest of the world. Bush will undoubtedly be remembered by history as the straw that broke the empire's back.

And yet, despite it all, the man himself seems to be faring well. Displaying the unflinching gusto for which he's famous, Bush's inner fortitude is nothing short of a phenomenon.

Despite his litany of flaws, I admire Bush for his unwavering sense of self-confidence. I am in awe of whatever force - be it will or ignorance - that shields him from the onslaught of public opinion. Still, sometimes before the sun sets on his presiidency, I'd like to see someone confront him for his crimes. I'd like to seee a reporter, a citizen or a disillusioned war veteran hold him accountable for the destruction his administration has wrought. I'd like someone to make him answer for the million people who have died on his watch or the eco-crisis he has left woefully unaddressed. But most of all, in front of the blazing lights of media cameras, I'd like to see someone wipe that smirk off his goddam face.



When I was in Utah in November there wasn't a lot of politics or debate. Since then the sub-prime mortgage nonsense, the 'credit crunch', the price of petrol, the fear of running out of oil has actually occured. It's been a busy year. So while I was in the republican Bush loving state of Utah in May I heard all about the oil in Alaska, and how people didn't care about the environment or the life of animals if it meant the sustainability of the American race. I kid you not.

There were many comments I heard, from all ages and wakes of life that suggested the solution was digging for oil in the United States.

Now, Oil in the states has been known about for a long time, but the US decided a long time ago to not use their own oil, they decided to buy North Sea Oil from Maggie the spazz Thatcher when she sold us down the river in the 70s, and they decided to buy up and use the Eastern oil in Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia etc etc. Well, what the bloody hell have they done with it?

That was a lot of oil, where did it go?

It would be nice if we all had an unlimited supply and we could keep driving around until the cows come home, and live the life we think we all want. But the truth is, we just can't do it. We just can't keep living that way. We were given a pure blessing that we just stuck to. Rather than continuing technology and improving on our laurels we stayed there. We just sat back and enjoyed the wind blowing through our hair. We became lazy.

This had not happened before, think about how quickly other generations and other centuries have improved upon inventions and technology. We are no longer moving as rapidly as we once did because we no longer invent things for the sake of improving our life style, but we invent things to make money, to exploit people and to just shift all the numbers from one bank account to the other. Our forefathers discovered oil, invented cars, we've improved upon them but we just invent numbers. What do we have to show for decades of thinking? Hyperindividualism. Inventing things for the benefit of individual gain rather than the improvement of the lives of the members of our society.

When it comes to design this is the biggest question of them all. I think however, rather than the question being, how do we invent a new fuel or a new material to easily keep our current way of life? Perhaps the question should be, 'How do we change our way of life to be in accordance with the things nature has provided us with?'

We are not smarter than nature. That is man's biggest fall down and largest mistake. Thinking that we are smarter than nature and that we can live and survive without it.

We, technically, all should have that giant 'the spazz' name in between our first and surname's.

What a mess. Rather than digging oil, we should be digging our way out of this mess, out of this dependency for oil, out of this black hole we have drilled our way into.

The Death of a Bracelet and other updates, thoughts, and observations.

So, my internet is currently broken and I can’t be bothered spending hours trying to fix it, so I hope it fixes itself for the weekend.

Something tragic has happened (other than the internet not working and me having to type this in word – I have to vent somehow) I glanced at my wrist about 15 minutes ago and felt there was something not quite right, so I kept looking and realised that the green, white, black and purple bracelet is gone. GONE. What’s that about. I had it at graduation, that’s a fact. I have NEVER lost a bracelet without noticing. I ALWAYS notice, I ALWAYS find them. So I’m still holding out hope that I might be able to find it. Even if it means swimming to the bottom of that skanky pool and fishing the beads out one by one. That’s where I’m assuming I lost it, at the pool tonight.

Here are the stats. Quite pitiful if you ask me, but here we go:

1450m in 50 minutes

200m Front Crawl
100m Breast Stroke
100m Back Stroke
200m Front Crawl legs
100m Breast Stroke Legs
100m Back Crawl Legs

With Paddles
200m Front Crawl
25m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl
25m Back Crawl
25m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl
25m Back Crawl
25m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl
25m Back Crawl

Without Paddles
25m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl
25m Back Crawl

50m Swim Down.

It was Amie’s third birthday today, so I swung by the scout hall to give her birthday hugs and to scran her birthday cake – Thomas the Tank Engine. I AM SO PLEASED. It reminded me of this little plastic cup I used to have that I would drink my warm milk out of every night before bed. I loved that cup. It was one of the things that never made it out of the house on the day my mum broke in to get our stuff. That’s another story for another day though.

I must look on ebay and see if I can’t find one, like I found My Little Pony ear muffs like I used to wear.

I then came home, cooked dinner, watched some still game (which made me laugh erratically), then played some violin before embarking on the small amount of work that needed done before tomorrow, only I can’t do it because I need to convert a font from True Type to Postscript, but I can’t because I don’t know how to and only the internet can tell me. LAME.

Anyway.

I laughed so much at still game. There was this one part where Jack and Victor went to see their friend who’s wife had just died and he had been pissing in a pot under the bed because going into the bathroom reminded him of his wife too much. Jack and Victor were asked to take the pot out from under the bed because their other friend had burnt his hand and couldn’t lift it. So they both made a farce out of trying to get it, and trying to pretend the other couldn’t reach it so they wouldn’t have to do it. When it was finally taken out from under the bed – it was gross and cloudy – Victor took an empty pot and pretended to empty it onto Jack, which was funny enough. But then when Victor lifted the actual pee pot he tripped on the carpet and actually emptied it all over Jack and I could not stop laughing, out loud. It scared me a little. Because a laugh is a sign to another human being that everything is alright, there are no other humans, and I was laughing out loud on my own. I think I’m starting to go mental. Or maybe it really was that funny.

So, I’ve realised that I am doing an ‘Earl’, from My Name is Earl. However, rather than correcting all the things I have done wrong to people I am correcting all the things I should have done or shouldn’t have given up on. Hence the violin and the desire to skateboard. So the list so far, in the past few years is this:

Strong, fast swimmer (I always wanted to swim in the Olympics ALWAYS – still do)

Competent violin player, possibly able to play in a band like Andrew Bird, Jens Lekman, Caribou, Iron and Wine and, I think, Cocorosie too.

Skateboarder like Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future

Write a fiction book.

Write a non-fiction book.


An animator

Photography

Cyclist

Runner

A vampire slayer

A drummer (a guitarist, bassist and general rock star)

A graffiti artist

A punk in the seventies

A girl

A non-girl

Now I’m just being crazy and silly.

A make up artist

A model

An actress



Anyway, I’m getting silly with these. But the first ones are real.

I was looking at some girls today in the swimming pool, and I realised I cannot compete. I can’t ever compete with the girls who wear bikinis for no reason other than to be looked at. I can’t do that – ever. And one of the things I didn’t like about Salt Lake is that there were a lot of girls like that. They would be the most modestly dressed on a Sunday, but given half the chance – Hallowe’en, sitting by the pool, swimming, hot tubing, hiking, being in the sun in general, pool parties, and everything else that would involve group hanging and being outside – they would be in short skirts, bikinis, short shorts, tank tops, spaghetti strap tops etc etc, and I just can’t do that any more. That was my life for a while, but no more. And the excuse of being on holiday, or it being too hot is just rubbish, for me anyway. I used to like the attention I got, and the staring from boys when I did dress immodestly. But, I am so over it, I am so done with it, and if that means I have no sniff at competing then screw it. Screw it all. Fact.

The internet is working again, and I managed to find a video clip of the Still Game Scene.

SERIOUSLY… You have to watch it.




I think more than anything that’s what’s still upsetting my about Utah. It’s the fact that I was unnecessarily and un-wanting-ly entered into a competition that I didn’t know how to handle. It is a fact and widely known fact that citizens of the United Kingdom date differently from those in the United States, not to mention the residents of Utah. So, I was left confused when I felt like I was shoved into some kind of competition for attention. It was so odd, and the kind of thing that I will write an essay on if I ever work out the dynamics of what actually happened. I tell you this though, I might have found the reason there’s so much depression and medicated depression in the US, it’s because during the dating process no one actually knows where they stand and they end up getting anxious and try too hard.

That’s my problem, when I’m faced with competition I become too obsessed with being perfect that I forget to just be normal. It steals my confidence and I just have no idea how to behave, or what to say, because I start to care too much. Care too much about what the person thinks, and what everyone else thinks. In my natural environment I couldn’t care less what people think, but this Utah adventure I was so self-conscious, and I attribute that purely and solely to the fact that without realising it I was competing with everyone in the state. Every single female. And I didn’t like it. I don’t think my adventure with Utah is over yet. I’ve still not written an single essay about that place, but I need to. I think that’s one of my definite angles. To start talking and writing about religion as a solution to problems rather than the cause of problems. I’m not sure though. Where better to start that a state that’s technically a colony of religion. Ha.

So, here I do my make up on the train, let my hair dry by itself and never straighten it. When in Utah I have to do my make up, pluck the brows, straighten the hair and take about an hour to get ready. Here, I’m out the door in 15 minutes, sometimes less. It’s impressive sometimes. In that time I fill my Nalgene, pack my bags, feed the cat and get dressed (obviously), while grabbing breakfast and lunch.

Because this is word, still, there is no end to the writing. I’m just going to keep going. So I should really call it a night.

At lunch time today, I went to borders, picked up a copy of New Moon, and started reading it in Starbucks with a grande hot chocolate with whipped cream. More than anywhere else in Glasgow, I think Borders Starbucks is my favourite place to be; to sit.

I love it. When my lunch time had well expired I bought the book and went back to work. Now, I am not so happy that I started to read it. The last one ended so nicely, and now it’s just drama. It’s almost like watching Dawson’s creek again, Joey and Dawson, are they together or are they not.

Anyway – have I yet expressed my great happiness at the fact that Katie Holmes is NOT in the new Batman movie. How much do I want to see that movie. Maggie Gyllenhall will be so much better because 1. She’s not irritating, and 2. She can speak out of her whole mouth and not just the side, and 3. she was never in dawson’s creek.

Pah Ha.

It’s well past bedtime and I am shattered. No nap today. Here’s hoping I get a sleeping pattern back soon.