What a load of blogs.

I've been browsing blogs.

Not for the first time, of course, but I was mentally categorising them. Very interesting. Strikes me that there are a number of discrete types.

a) Young teenage girls, very IT-literate and perky, many of them from Singapore and Malaysia, it seems, with highly decorated pages and novelty cursors. Their posts are dedicated to how much they adore their friends, things they've bought and partying. Very cute, very wholesome, very photogenic.

b) Young teenage girls and boys demonstrating slightly less expertise venting about how awful their lives are, how lonely they are, how everyone else is horrible and nobody, including you, dear reader, can understand them. The kind of thing that makes me want to reach in, grab them by the grubby t-shirt and say 'PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER', because people who have truly dreadful lives don't write this drivel. Occasionally someone kinder than me has posted some supportive mesage to say 'You are not alone' which they clearly find deeply irritating and to which they respond in a slightly snappy tone. Misery of this calibre can manifest as self-aggrandisement, and is occasionally dangerous. Just think Columbine. Unfortunately it is not only the young who think that being miserable makes them interesting... Fortunately it is mostly the young, and they grow out of it.

c) Misogynistic and inadequate men who advertise their hatred of the institution of marriage and their love of fornication, but whose words betray their fear and loathing of all women. They like to use all the pejorative words for female sexual organs, female sexual activity and.. well... women. But paradoxically, they are very keen on traditional roles. So lesbian parents are out. Even though they urge their fellow man to eschew the slavery of marriage and domesticity. Hmmm. Angry, angry little men. You can almost see the spittle settling on the keyboard as they type. I harbour a suspicion that much of their fulminating can be attributed to the fact that they can't get anyone to have sex with them. Luckily for these poor things, anyone can be a virtual stud.

d) Lots of World Cup blogs. Unbelievably touching, these. Not sure why. I haven't a sporting bone in my body, but the element of sport which I find so tender and so inexplicable is the pure love of the thing, which transcends national boundaries. These are people, who love their football, love their nation, and love their teams but not at the expense of others' nations and teams. This is definitely the positive face of football.

e) Corporate blogs. Dear God - does anyone read them?

f) IT blogs - ditto. This is unfair of me. Despite working for one of the world's largest computer companies for many years (but in marketing), I'm about as IT-literate as a clever fish. How anyone can find anything to talk about is beyond me. But then many feel the same way about politics. Or jazz. Or education. Or films. Or all the other things which I'm interested in.

g) Clever, interesting blogs by people who say not very much but write very entertainingly. These are the ones I've saved in my favourites, in a file called BLOGS which I will revisit.

Many more, but these are the ones which struck me particularly.

I shouldn't be wasting my time, as I'm supposed to be finishing the first draft of my new project, but I rationalise it by saying anything which shines a light into the dark recesses of the human soul can never, for a writer, be a waste.

Now and Then

Some time ago I was reading flash fiction on American Zoetrope when I came across a maudlin little piece which purported to explore the feelings of one half of a couple when the other died. I lost my father last year and since then my mother, although putting on a brave face, has been utterly desolate. This piece didn't come near chronicling what she was going through. So, rather meanly, I took it upon myself to write and post what I thought was a more realistic exploration of this situation. It was also a way of reminding myself how she felt, because although I have supported her, every now and then I have found myself being a little impatient with my mother.

When I posted it it met with a generally favourable and sympathetic response, but one reviewer complained that it was a bit bleak and didn't give any hope for the future. He felt that I could have been more upbeat in order to help others who may find themselves in the same situation. Is this what people think is the job of a writer - to produce little pep-talks? Talk about missing the point.

Anyway, it's been a while since I put any fiction on here. (I call it fiction, because although their feelings are similar, this woman is not my mother. The line between truth and fiction is necessarily a blurred one, is it not?)

It's called 'Now and Then'.

"You are cold. You are cold and smooth, suddenly unlined and youthful, just as when I first met you.

I am cold. I am cold and empty and old and bereft because you are gone.

I have children. I have grandchildren. I have friends and I have acquaintances and I go to shops and I see people around. I cannot understand how they don’t see that nothing means anything because you are gone. I cannot understand how I can be here when you are gone. I do not want to be here now you are gone.

Now. I don’t want now.

I want then. I want then, when I first met you, when you looked at me in a different way to the way in which men had looked at me before. I want then, when I sailed for two weeks to another continent, another world to become your bride. I want then, when I held out your child to you, wrapped in a blanket and smelling of baby powder. I want then, when you loved me and made love to me. I want then; oh, how I want then. I want then, when you squeezed my hand as we watched our son’s passing-out parade. I want then, when you spoke at our daughter’s wedding and tears filled your eyes so that you had to clear your throat and pretend they did not. I want then, when you rode with our grandson on the tractor and his childish shrieks made the geese look up from their grain. I want then, when we argued. I want then, when you were sick, so sick, but still here. I want then.

I look for you everywhere and I try to see how you are still here, in your son’s face, in the set of his shoulders as we walk the dog through the fields and he tries to comfort me. I look for you in your daughter’s dogged persistence, in your grandson’s elegant sportsmanship, in your granddaughter’s sentimental tears. You always said that this was how you would live on. I hated to hear it; I hoped I would never have to look for you in others, I hoped you’d always be walking next to me. And part of me prepared for this time. But not well enough.

You are cold, and I am dead inside."

Dancing all over the world

And as a balance to my rage and frustration at what our leaders do, here's a life-enhancing little film made by Matt. Whoever he is, I love him.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=bNF_P281Uu4

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

Oh my, what a depressing week in world events.

If the aim is to stop world terrorism and to try and get things on an even keel, then we need to sack all the politicians and start all over again.

Given that much of Islamic world believes that the USA, and George Bush in particular, is on some kind of missionary quest to wipe Islam from the face of the globe, the adminstration's unquestioning support of Israel in its retaliatory action in Lebanon seems at best unwise and at worst suicidal. Let's all brace ourselves for a massive wave of bombings.

Yes, Hezbollah's actions in kidnapping soldiers are evil. Yes, Hezbollah's demands that thousands of Palestinian prisoners be released before they release those prisoners are ludicrous. But then we all know that Hezbollah are not inclined to rational acts. To react to irrational people by bombing the land they live in is not itself a rational response. And more importantly, when we are globally in this knife-edge situation it is not the way to curtail international terrorism. Has hitting someone really, really hard ever resolved an argument? If someone keeps pounding your face, do you end up agreeing with them, or do you take the pain and silently plan ways to get back at them?

And the USA stands up for its friend. I am aware that this will be a popular standpoint in the USA. But to us over here in Europe it looks bonkers. Absolutely bonkers. Surely, to bring it down to human terms again, if your friend is doing something which will bring destruction upon itself, you have a quiet word and help them to see that another course of action would be preferable to the one your friend is embarked on? Especially if you're the biggest, coolest person in the school and everyone listens to you.

I could weep. I could weep for the loss of life and livelihood in the Middle East and for the thousands more senseless deaths to come, Israeli and Palestinian, and probably American and British. And Thai, and Indonesian and German and French and God knows what else. Violence begets violence begets violence begets violence. WOuld Hamas or Hezbollah have the popularity they have if the Arab countries didn't have such a strong sense of grievance?

What happened in Northern Ireland? People blowing the bejesus out of one another. Margaret Thatcher said "We do not negotiate with terrorists." And the bombing went on. Tony Blair said "Let's talk." And the IRA have, finally, after years of quiet, unpopular negotiation, laid down their arms. I know it's not the same, but it is comparable.

I can't go on. There's work to be done. But I grieve for sense. I really do. If it weren't so bloody tragic, it would be laughable.

The morning after

Yes, the cup final. Had to mention the World Cup final. We went round to our part-Italian friends' home. They were all wearing Italy kits and I quietly supported France, which meant, inevitably, that they lost. My daughter always encourages me to support the team opposing the one she wants to win as she maintains that my teams ALWAYS lose. She has a point. But we had very nice pizza and tiramisu washed down with Pinot Grigio, so all was not lost. My daughter was exhausted so we got a cab back just before extra time. You have never seen a cabbie who less wanted a fare. We were dutifully quiet and listened to the match on the radio.

What about Zinedine Zidane! Zizou! Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?? T'es fada, toi??

My friend was being incredibly lovely and supportive about my recent small successes, and I wasn't very forthcoming in response, which was churlish of me. This morning, partly as a result of that, I feel quietly depressed, but full of resolve not to cock things up at this late hour. And God knows, the opportunities for up-cocking are many and varied.

Off tonight to Brighton for another Tales of the Decongested evening - I shall meet other familiar names who have until now only existed for me on the Zoetrope boards. Looking forward to it a lot, but not to the three hour drive each way... I promised Kay I'd wear my ruby slippers.

Philosophy is just thinking.

So what are the big ills that afflict our modern society, do you think?

My list would include excessive use, or abuse, of drugs and alcohol; an over-emphasis on the physical in life rather than the cerebral, so that girls value themselves by bust size, hair colour and the ability to make men want to sleep with them (which, let's face it, has never been difficult), rather than iq or aspiration; the consequent unbearable waste of young lives and latent talent thrown away by a teenage pregnancy, or two or three or four; lack of respect for other people, one's community and one's environment; the positioning of an individual square at the centre of his or her world, so that anything or anyone who gets in the way of the immediate gratification of a desire cannot be tolerated and must, in fact, be attacked. There are numerous others, but those are the ones that spring to mind today.

So it is suggested that children receive health education about the dangers of narcotics and unprotected sex. Positive images are encouraged in the press and antisocial behaviour orders are handed out like sweets. And what happens? Nothing. Well, what a shock.

But if, instead of messing about at the edges of the issues, we taught chhildren in school to THINK about cause and effect, to consider abstract possibilities so that they can measure the value of an individual act against the long-term effects of that act, to think long-term about what life would be like if they took that next hit, or had that quick shag while off their faces on Bacardi breezer, is there not a small possibility that, equipped with that facility for thinking things through, they might gently say 'No' and take another road, spome of the individual and societal devastation would be avoided?

Philosophy, like Shakespeare, is derided as elitist, but really, is it? Is it not more elitist to suggest that the capacity to think is beyond all but the very cultured and intelligent? And, after all, philosophy is no more than rational enquiry or critical thinking. Everybody is capable of doing that until they are told they're too stupid to do it.

Teach kids to think, and then a lot of other educational sticking plaster will become redundant. Citizenship. Personal, Social and Health Education. Ethics. Get rid of it all - trust the human mind and teach them to think for themselves.