Subversion

A new piece of street art has cropped up in a doorway on my way to work. Here in Bristol, home of Banksy, we have a lot of very wonderful street art, most of it banksyesque, whether it be by himself or something of an homage.

I noticed one which got the cogs whirring earlier than they would normally. It featured the Queen wearing a tiara and a grey hoodie with a Banksy image on it. The original image is above, and I think in itself that it conjures up all sorts of questions. I read it as someone who is perceived as a hooligan and a danger to society fighting back with beauty: an assertion of the creative power of a society which is not the art establishment. So a bit of a pat on his own back really!

So this new version has the ultimate authority figure, arguably therefore Britain itself, espousing and demonstrating its enthusiasm for street culture. That's my take anyway. I think street art holds up and interesting reflection of what's happening in British culture. The more the better, I think. The additional, more pragmatic, benefit is that walls adorned with graffiti art tend not to get tagged by eejits with spray cans.

"Alleged" cell assault.

Sometimes you see something which just takes your breath away. This is one of those things. A 15 year old girl, probably a gobby bint, is arrested in connection with the theft of a car and brought into a police station in the US. I'm guessing she's been giving the police officers a lot of cheek on the way here and the officers are seriously pissed off by the time they usher her into the cell.

But they are professionals, they are a lot older than her and they are on CCTV for God's sake. So there is no excuse AT ALL for what happens next.

Once in the police cell, when she kicks off her shoe through the door at Washington State Deputy Paul Schene, he lunges at her, boot first, striking her in the stomach. He pushes her into the corner of the cell, grabs her by the hair and throws her onto the ground. Once she is on the ground - a 15 year old girl, remember - and he has his knee in the small of her back while another full-grown man assists in restraining her, Schene 'appears to' punch her twice in the face before dragging her to her feet again and dragging her out of the cell by the hair.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7917295.stm

Apparently the car theft charge was dropped as was the attempt to charge her with assault for kicking her shoe at the police officers.

Oh the irony.

I'm sure that she's no angel and that she was probaly a prize pain in the arse, but that makes absolutely no difference at all, whatsoever.

Paul Schene - hang your head in shame and find another job. What an outrage, and even more outrageous that the police force should try and excuse this appalling, appalling behaviour with mealy-mouthed talk of this girl's assault OF THEM!

Funny old world...

About ten days after I posted last I got an email from the agent whom I really wanted to represent me. She gave me some really good feedback; said that she thought I was a very good writer, that I had an excellent USP for my book and all sorts of other flattering stuff.

She went on to say, however, that she really didn't like my central character, finding her too selfish to be sympathetic, she found the fact that I dart around in time and between voices without waving enough flags confusing and that I should head up each chapter with time and person. She said that she was therefore going to pass on the book but if I changed it substantially in accordance with these considerations she would look at it again. That was on Friday and I was really disappointed. Contrary to my normal practice I didn't respond immediately and spent some time wondering whether a) I should do as she suggested or b) explain myself or c) gracefully thank her for her feedback and move on.

I thought about it on a lot of long icy dog-walks and I concluded that I didn't want to change the book as she suggested. I also decided that there was no point in getting back to her.

But I couldn't help myself, so I emailed her back and described why I didn't feel I could make the changes she suggested. I explained why, perhaps misguidedly, I had deliberately chosen to write the book in the way that I had. I pointed to the chapter which held the key to the whole thing, structurally and thematically. I thought I sounded like a disappointed child, but I couldn't stop myself. Then I told her about my new project, outlined it briefly and asked her if she'd like to see it when it was finished.

Then I forgot about it.

And later that night she emailed me back, said that she'd reread the first few chapters and decided that actually it was very good, and "hey - let's go for it". She'd take me on and represent the book as it was, unrevised! (If no one had jumped in in the interim... as if!!)

I actually jumped up and down and screamed. I scared the dogs and the kids. And then I said 'yes, please!' She sent me a formal offer and I signed and sent it back. And now I am represented! I have an agent. I can say "my agent". I am unreasonably happy! I have just been away skiing and realised that I haven't the faintest idea what happens next. But I'm calling her tomorrow to have a chat and hopefully arrange to meet.

Maybe it is true that the darkest hour is just before the dawn.

Just because it's 'unacceptable'

... doesn't mean it's not true.

I started this a while back - just finihsed it...couple of years on. True now as it was then though.

A drugs adviser said that people were more likely to incur damage to their bodies by horseriding than by taking ecstasy. Jacqui Smith is "surprised" and "disappointed" by this assertion and there have been the inevitable calls for his resignation.

I have always been quite an advocate of Political Correctness. I think it's a good thing to think about the offence which might be caused someone before you say something, and when it's good PC is what used to be called courtesy.

But now we seem to have veered away from that to the idea that there is only one way to think and anyone who deviates from that line should be ceremonially hund drawn and quartered, or at the very least called upon to resign.

This seems most prevalent in the area of drugs. It seems to me absolutely nuts to go wildly overboard about the dangers of drugs. The further adrift adults' warnings about drugs are from young people's experiences and first hand observations, the less effective they will be. If you're going to give people information, don't assume that your audience are stupid - tell the truth.

I don't know too much about all this, and I had more opportunity to learn about it than most as as a part of my teacher training I went to spend a few day with a drugs adviser at a drugs centre

Yes, drugs are fun. If they weren't no bugger would do them. Duh!

No, odd cases aside, it is highly unlikely that you will be adversely affected by smoking a small amount of spliff, although it's probably best to avoid stronger strains (is it still called skunk? I'm out of date now...) because there is a sizeable minority of people who will can suffer significant and irreversible psychological damage. Most kids know other kids who smoke weed, and they observe no harm, so for a government to wave its arms around and proclaim that the sky is falling will make those kids sit back and say "They don't now what they're on about - it's all lies." They WILL NOT put the government's counsel above their prsonal experience. It's just not what teenagers do.

There are no consumer guidelines on the production of Ecstasy and the like, which can be cut with all sorts of other stuff, so if you don't fancy ingesting raw flour or bicarbonate of soda or plaster of paris on your night off, it's probably best avoided.

And obviously if you have the smallest modicum of self-respect and self-preservation don't assume that you'll beat the odds on opiates. Some people can do them and get away with it but many will get into some level of difficulty. Anything which can result in fairly hefty addiction is best avoided - it's why I've drummed into my children the necessity of not having that first ever cigarette.

But don't pretend that the first time any drug is ingested the pavements of the world will open aup and spew forth demons.

Possibly one of the attractions of drugs for young people is the fact that politicians with serious, uncool suits and serious, humourless, uncool faces keep telling them not to go there. I suggest the war on drugs would be better fought by some reasonably credible people pouring scorn on the whole things and pointing up the grubbiness, chavviness and boringness of the whole thing. Also point out that this generation didn't discover it and the whole business of drug-taking, frankly, is a bit of a yawn.

Start actually trying to confront the thing and do the job of directing kids away from drugs rather than aiming to win votes from their scared parents.

There's Probably No God...

...so stop worrying and get on with your life.

That's the message posted by a Humanist society on buses up and down the UK . I find it terribly interesting not because it's in any way shocking but because it's an almost entirely meaningless message and yet someone feels strongly enough about it to spend however much posting it all over my local no 77.

For starters there's the idea that the only reason anyone would worry is that they're examining what they do with the idea of an omniscient and vengeful God surveying their every move. What an odd suggestion, particularly in these predominantly secular days!

I don't know about anyone else but I'm more concerned with whether we're going to be able to retain our jobs and pay all the bills for this year than whether God approves of my actions. I'm more concerned that my other half's business makes enough money to cover his staff salaries than that I've done enough to make it into the hereafter. I worry that the kids might not enjoy my lessons. I worry that my son might not get into a school which will suit him. I worry that my daughter might be being bullied. I worry about all manner of things, and him upstairs rarely, if ever, features. The existence of God is just not something I, or the vast majority of people, worry about at all.

I'm not saying that I don't yearn for something spiritual in my life; I do, and culturally I am Christian, so sometimes I do consider the existence of God, but I never, ever worry about it. The idea that this is something 'worrying' is strange and almost contradictory. It smacks of a group of people trying at enormous expense to covince themselves of something.

Then there's that 'probably', which adds to the effect that this is a sort of navel-gazing self-reassurance. What's that about? There's probably no God? That's the kind of hedging one's bets that precedes a deathbed confession, just in case. The people who bang on about the unlikelihood of the existence of God are the ones who spend a lot of time thinking about it. The rest of us just get on with it.

Stil, at least it gets people talking, I suppose. Probably more of a spur to theological debate than anything else which has happened in a while.

Confidence

Isn't it odd how inconsistent personality is?

Given that I am so assertive and opinionated I'm constantly amazed that I persist in listening to the last person who volunteered an opinion about me and/or my work as if their word is gospel.

Last week I called about twenty agents to see if they were looking at new material. I called all the likely candidates in the Writers' Handbook from A to G before losing the will to live. Surprisingly, given the economic climate, most of them were still looking for work. A few engaged me in a conversation about my book, asking such difficult questions as "what is it?" and "is it literary or commercial?". (This last seems to be the one that's going to be the dealbreaker, and I'm not sure what the answer is - my last book was eventually turned down by one agent as too commercial and by another for being too literary.). Anyway, most of them were very positive about the premise for my book and asked me to send in submissions. A few people accept synopses by email so I sent those off. In all I approached 12 people with synopses and sample material.

So at this stage I was feeling very up about my work. It was even better when the two agents to whom I had sent synopses asked for 50 pages.

And then the first of those sent me the inevitable email thanking me for my submission and turning it down. Instant desolation. I tell myself that there are 11 others out there. I tell myself that it only takes one person to love what I have done. I tell myself that it's subjective stuff. I tell myself that this is a man reading a book which I have already identified as mainly targetting a female demographic... Makes no difference. Until I get a positive response I am officially shit at this.

There are two women whom I would particularly like to represent me. One asked for the whole book and the other 50 pages 'to start with'. God, I hope they like it.

In the meantime I shall start planning the next book. I voiced the unspeakable yesterday and wondered aloud to my partner whether maybe I was a mug for continuing to slog away at this. Sometimes I wish I could just sit back and enjoy the life I have, which is a good life, rather than hammering away at something else. But then I suspect I might start to try and live vicariously through my children and I do not want to do that. That wouldn't be fair. They're doing fine as themselves; Mum would just get in the way.

So while I wait for the judgements to roll in, it's ever onward for me.