And We're Out

I'm not sure if this is the hundredth published article on Eff Seven or not, but it doesn't matter too much - Eff Seven is closing its doors! Many thanks to you all for reading over the months it's been up, as I know there were far more of you reading than I had realised. Check back here, as I aim to move onto new blogs and new sites in the not too distant future. When that happens, I'll notify you all. For now, many thanks and goodbye. Mike

The Mute Chess Player

It's the time of year that compels people to start revising, reading over work that has taken them nine months to begin to understand, and prepare to blurt it all out over a couple of hours, in order to get some recognition. In other words, it's exam season for a lot of people. This means that I come across a lot of things in my Philosophy that I had forgotten about. It's odd to think that I let some of it pass by, though, because looking back so much of it seems questionable. It's a difficult subject to study, because it's very easy to disagree with any amount of what you have to learn. Let's take Free Will for the purposes of this post. The 'Free Will debate' is a huge problem for pretty much anyone who wants to believe in god. In particular, modern monotheism - i.e. Christianity - which has many contradictions in its beliefs concerning human freedom. The basic problem arises when you take God knowing everything, and you having free will. Free will, it is held, means that you are able to do other than you actually do. But if God knows for certain what you will do, this implies that you don't have a choice to not do it. Your actions are determined. Are they? Well, before we address that question, we should probably look at another part of the problem. The aforementioned problem only arises beccause of Church doctrine. If you're not a Christian, or not a monotheist, there isn't really a problem. We're free. But lately, thinkers have been coming up with theories that spread a little doubt onto that. Freedom means that we are responsible for our actions. But advances in sociology, psychology and biology suggest that we're really just a series of causes and effects. I'm sitting here now, writing this, without having freely chose it. Your reading this is not a choice - it's a compilation of your upbringing, your society, your genes, your education. You had no say in the matter. But before you start considering ritual suicide, or sit down and wait for Fate to come and kick you along in life, you need to consider carefully what that all really means. The problem, in my opinion, comes when you consider what kind of a system would have to be in place for us to not have Free Will. Let's imagine two situations. The first is Eastenders, and the actors in them. The second is the monsoon season over in South-east Asia. Let's consider that one of the leading actors in Eastenders gets killed off, in the script, by another character. In this case, the actor has been manipulated by another power - in this case, the scriptwriters - and has been controlled into this deadly situation. It's a case of Manipulative Determinism, if you will. However, in the second case we see that a series of events (namely, the birth of a person in SE Asia, the weather systems leading up the monsoon) leads to the drowning of a child in a deluge induced by the monsoon. Is it fair, in this case, to say that the child was manipulated into dying by this system of events? Certainly, the child had no choice over the monsoon, or where she was born, but the system is altogether passive. It just happens, and the effects of it similarly happen. This might seem like a minor distinction, but it's actually crucial to that half of the Free Will debate. The issues with the monotheistic God are hard to solve, but the Causation problems are simple - they can be ignored. We are as good as free because, though there is a system of cause and effect that regulates all of our actions, it is a 'dead' system. It has no purposes, it just happens. And therefore, the healthiest action we can take is to ignore it, and accept responsibility for our own lives. That is not to say that Atheists get off lightly in general. Sartre, for one, would think that accepting responsibility to be quite difficult. But it does show how sometimes, philosophers can worry a little too much.

The Last Post

The following is an assembly I gave today. The reaction it has garnered is quite astounding - so many people have come up and told me that they enjoyed it, and that they thought it was very meaningful, and this has been amazing for me. Not amazing because I enjoyed the attention, but because it means that - probably, at least - they got the message. And for them to have listened and taken it in is just a brilliant feeling. Thanks to all of you that listened today, and spoke to me afterwards. For those of you that didn't hear it, it's printed below. Recommended listening is Ben Folds' "Late", though for the full assembly experience you should listen to "Variations On Canon", a piano piece, beforehand. Many thanks to Mufkin for agreeing to play in assembly for everyone. It means a lot to me. Also, as an afterthought that didn't fit in the original assembly, the lyrics to "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" are worth a look. They can be found here. The words below highlighted in yellow were added for Charity - many thanks also to those who paid, in particular Nige.

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Well. This is nice. Admittedly, it’s a little less power-inducing than I thought, and from this perspective the ceiling tiles seem a little bit more yellowy, but I think I could get used to this. Which is, as you know, the last thing that is going to happen, since this is to be my first, last and only assembly to the school.

It’s funny though, standing here giving this assembly to you all. When I was lower down in the school, perhaps even as long ago as when I sat on the floor below, I would wonder what it was like to give an assembly to you all. Not just an assembly, either, but to be a prefect giving a final assembly to the teachers and students that you’d been around for so long.

I’ll be honest – it’s quite humbling.

You all – apart from the Year Sevens, perhaps – know what’s coming now. Because Sixth Form assemblies take one of three tried-and-tested formats. Most famously, there’s the classic “When I look back on my time in Bournemouth School…” that starts off with a few Upper Sixth in-jokes, and ends (usually) with half the audience asleep.

Of course, it might be a themed assembly. And this week’s theme, as I’m sure you know by now, is the Christian season of Lent.

I have decided not to talk to you today about Lent. Why? It’s a choice I’ve made. Because what you believe is special to you, and I would never wish to change it, nor be so arrogant as to think I could reinforce it.

Lent itself comes from the old English Lenten, meaning to lengthen. As we all know, the days are getting longer and Summer is on its way – the observation of the seasons actually having more in common with a pagan celebration than a Christian one. Religion is far too complex for me to try and tackle it in a single speech. Some people live heliocentric lives of praise, others allow their lives to revolve around whichever Italian stallion is presenting Sky Sports nowadays. Who am I to judge?

Instead, I would rather leave you with something that, maybe some other day if not today, will make you think. But there’s a problem when a single, ignorant student wants to leave something behind with upwards of a thousand people.

What do I want to say?

Ah.

What do I want to say?

There’s only one chance at this, one go to decide what gets left behind and what doesn’t. I might have been taught many things in seven years here, and I might’ve picked a lot of it up. But what I’ve learnt in eighteen years of life is actually quite a small amount.

So… what do I want to say?

I guess in a way I just want to say thanks. Because that’s what last words are for. They’re a time for reflection on all the good things that have happened to you. Maybe that’s why so many assemblies end up as misty-eyed reflections of our Tonka Truck days. But who do you thank when you’re standing in front of a thousand people of all ages, interests and beliefs?

You see, there are people in this room who have got me through some of the lowest points in my life. There are people here who have shown me great loyalty, compassion, understanding and care. Perhaps this is a chance to thank my closest friends for all that they’ve done for me?

Perhaps.

The thing is that this past year has been very different. Maybe it was because I allowed myself to be a bit happier. Maybe it was because of the added responsibility. Maybe it was just because people seemed to know me more. Whatever it was, I’ve met a lot of people this year that have done a lot for me. And I don’t think they realise it.

Dan Clark doesn’t know, still, how I know his name. Maybe he thinks it’s part of a secret prefect conspiracy, I don’t know. The reason I know Dan’s name is because last Autumn when we opened the school to the parents of next year’s Year Seven, he was willing to give up hours of his time to stand on the same door, without a break. We all had to work hard that night, because we didn’t have enough help as it was. For Dan, maybe doing that was just something he forgot about as soon as he left that evening. But his small choice meant that a lot of people had an easier evening.

And I think that was the moment when I realised what I would want to say in my assembly. I wanted to thank the people who probably think they do very little. Those people, who never fail to ask me how life is, and aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m lying about how great it’s all going. Those that are willing to speak from the heart in front of their peers and their elders. Those that never miss a chance to make others smile. Those who never miss a chance to smile themselves.

Why no names? Because it’s dangerous to thank people, since you will always leave someone out. And when you start to look back at who made an impact on your life, you will start to realise that everyone has made a difference. So, in a way, all of you sitting here today have changed the way I lived these seven years. All of you had a part to play in all that I’ve done.

But there’s a difference. And what I want to ask you today is whether you had a good part to play, or a bad one? Have you had good dealings with me, or bad? I’ll tell you quite openly that all of you in this room right now are forgiven for any wrong you think you’ve done to me. That’s not what this assembly is about. It’s about remembering. Some of you will be remembered for the right reasons. Some of you for the wrong ones.

It’s too late for some of us, perhaps. Those old timers up on the balcony, the couple sitting to my right, and the reluctant soul sitting at the piano, will be leaving this place for good come July. Our conceptions of everyone else are almost set in stone now. But those of you below, in front of me here, are making choices about how you will be remembered all the time.

March, 1968. Vietnam. Charlie Company, 11^th Brigade enter the Vietnamese village of My Lai. “This is what you’ve been waiting for,” they were told, “Search and Destroy.”

American forces tear into the village, firing openly despite not coming under fire themselves. It turns out that their opposition amounted to roughly 300 unarmed civilians including women and children. The forces began to cut through the innocent villagers, many of them wounded, cowering or praying. You are flying in the OH23 military helicopter of Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson Jr., and you can see the massacre happening. They are not VC sympathisers. They are defenceless innocents.

Make a choice.

Make a choice. That sentence sounds rather impressive, doesn’t it? I’ve certainly tried to use it in a way that would make even the cheesiest Hollywood movie trailer seem like Shakespeare. Because when I say ‘Make a choice’ in a situation that’s as gung-ho as that, you know that I’m trying to nudge you gently along the tree-sap greased tightrope of morality. You know that I’m trying to show you how important choices can be. It’s all a bit laughable, isn’t it?

Hugh Thompson landed the OH23 in the middle of My Lai, called for a medevac, and approached the officer in charge of the slaughter. “Let’s get these people out of this bunker and out of here.” He told the lieutenant. “We’ll get them out with hand grenades.” Was the reply. Thompson makes his choice.

Choices. We don’t always get the chance to pull off that parabolic Hollywood line. We don’t always get the chance to really change the world, or even really change someone’s life. Not in the way that we see in the papers, or on the TV. Heroes very rarely exist in the real world. I’m not a hero, but I believe there are a few in this room. The point is not whether we are held up and displayed as heroes though. It is whether we are heroic. It is whether we care about the choices we do make, however small.

Hugh Thompson laid full-beam flares by the bodies of the wounded as the medics made their way to the site. But then he saw the lieutenant issue orders to begin shooting the wounded Vietnamese. Thompson approached him again. “Keep your people in place. My guns are on you.” He held the entire detatchment of US Marines at gunpoint until the medevac arrived, inescapable mullets and all. Thirty wounded children were saved, and as word got back about the slaughter, it was henceforth stopped. Thompson was held up as a traitor by his own people, a hated blimp, for thirty years before being awarded the Soldier’s Medal. He died this January.

Choices is what it’s all about. And I’m not talking about the choices between German and Spanish, or Oxford and Cambridge, or Law and Medicine. I’m talking about the choice between stopping to talk, and walking straight by. The choice between smiling and frowning. Between helping and hindering. The de Academic results, financial gain, things such as that are fleeting. Yes, they’re important in some ways. And yes, we’re here to work. But the reason I will remember those that I do are not because they are talented people. It’s simply because the choices they made make them worthy of being remembered, and I will endeavour to let those people know what I think of them before the end of this school year.

But a message for all of you is this – whether anyone thanks you for your actions does not matter. Whether I get in touch with you before the year is out or not does not matter. All that matters is that you have made the right choice. And there are few people besides yourself who can tell you what that truly is.

You’ve either chosen to listen to me today, or you haven’t. I don’t mind. I just hope I did well enough for you all to remember me.

I am not a great religious leader, or an inspiring diplomat, and so I would never wish to compare myself with anyone, let alone the Buddha. But I would like to leave you with the last documented words of him to his disciples. When asked how they would survive and make decisions alone, he offered them this with his last breath – “Just do your best.”

I never led any of you in your decisions, I know that. But I cannot think of a better way to find peace with yourself and with others, than knowing that you did you best, and that you are happy with it.

Can we have a moment’s silence, in which to be at peace with either our God or ourselves, or both.

FIN -------------

Perhaps a lot of it is familiar to you, as a reader of this blog. But thankyou for reading all the same.

Eddie Walker

Won’t you smile you look so shocked Put the nametag on your smock We’ve come to see you, Eddie walker

I don't know whether anyone reading this has had, or is having, that feeling where everything begins to come together. Not physically - my life is as much of a mess as it has been, and I'm sure that will become a perennial thing. But philosophically, my view on the world is beginning to condense a little. The aphorisms that hit me on the bus seem less trite. The moral decisions I make seem less emotionally-based. The way I live my life is more and more in tune with the way I believe it should be lived. Maybe that's just a sign of me giving in to the rest of the world (and Lord knows that's the last thing I want to do). I like to think of it as a sign that maybe I'm doing the right thing in my endless musing and contemplation. Maybe it's a sign that the journey has a purpose, an end point that Aristotle so firmly believed in. Maybe. I'm not that far along the road yet.

This one’s you when you were small You’re learning how to walk They’d pick you up And you keep falling down

Am I going to let rip, then? Am I going to unleash upon you the result of eighteen month's worth of contemplation, angst, distress and enjoyment? No. And it's not because I want to keep you all in suspense. It's not because I'm trying to make a cult following of myself. It's simply because I think that the journey is as important whatever conclusions are made. Hell, you might even make different conclusions to me, and that would make the journey even more important.

There you are with aunt louise You’re bouncing on her knees Remember all those trees behind the garden? They're gone, they all got cut down When she died

I had a reason for writing this when I began, but it's sort of drifted away. The lyrics to Eddie Walker which adorn this column like so many churchmice are here because they paint a picture of a guy who didn't do anything with his life. He lived a life that he thought was right at the time, but later discovered that it was empty. All the way through, he had rested on what was around him. But now it's all been cut down as things die around him.

Eddie walker, this is your life You never had a son or a wife You sure had a hell of a time Eddie walker, this is your life

It's not a threat. Far from it. Most people will live their lives quite happily without considering what they are doing. In fact, despite the lyrics of the song, Eddie might not know the kind of life he's stumbling into. But living for the moment eventually falls through. It has to, because moments don't last for long. And so though he might feel that this is the way things are meant to be, he’s deceiving himself.

That said, I couldn't say for sure whether I've lived my life any better. But the key thing is - and this is one thing I don't mind sharing with you - that Philosophy has let me work out what makes me content. Not in a hedonistic way, but in a general wellbeing sort of way. No, I don't turn up to a lot of parties. No, I don't try to impress many people any more. But that's okay, because I'm still happy with who I am and the way my life is going. It's still a mess, of course. But I'm getting by, and I think that's a valuable thing.

Eddie walker, this is your life You never had a coat or a tie You never had a reason to cry This whole stack and all of these Are just a mist or overseas We’re gonna leave you Eddie walker

Century

A hundred, then. The number seems small, I suppose, to those of us who see war through videogames and history lessons. We are used to huge death tolls - at the Somme more than 19,000 British soldiers were killed in a single day. The total number of casualties in the Battle of the Bulge total more than 100,000 on both sides. Now, a hundred men have died fighting a war that is so far away it might as well be fictional - indeed, this must be one of the few conflicts that has inspired dramatic fiction before it is even over. The death toll holds some significance, at least. In a war such as World War I, the ratio of non-officer deaths to officers was 17:1. In the Iraq War so far, the ratio for these hundred men is 4:1, and a quick scan of the rollof honour shows that many of these men are middle-aged, family men. Perfect media fodder? Perhaps. But is shows something human and admirable about a war that is both controversial and unsupported. War is war. It is the aggression against another country, something that could be considered natural as we animals compete for land and resources and struggle to survive. But the point is that we are not merely animals, or at least we cannot simply use that as an excuse for being immoral. For thousands of years we have had ethical discourse, made huge decisions about the way the world should be. We have developed rights, understanding, honour. And so it is easy to criticise governments for their motives, for the lack of ethics, for their abuse of the general populace. It is easy to see why the public want Tony Blair to admit that the war is wrong and illegal. Sometimes, though, we have to look closer at the humanity that survives in such conflicts. We have to peer into the eys of the man who lives for one day longer on the front pages of the national press. Corporal Gordon Pritchard, married, three children. Fought as a soldier, against an enemy, with faith in his own values, his own decisions. Led men into warzones, but gave his own orders. If the Iraq War is denounced as illegal, these men will be war criminals, and those that survive may be prosecuted as such. Perhaps that is justice. Perhaps they betrayed an innate moral code. Or perhaps they lived as best they could, to follow the laws lay down by the state that nurtured them, and to protect the familes, the children, and friends that they left behind. A hundred lives lost. It is not the quantity of death that should shock, but perhaps instead the manner in which they lived their lives, and how we would have them treated.

Flux

Of all the banal observations I made yesterday, here's the one that sticks out most prominently - everything changes. And yes, it is banal, however deep I'm now going to make it seem. Because change is what life is about, it's what time is made to measure. Changes unto changes. Yet still, I find it unsettling. When I was told what she'd done, it didn't seem that original. In fact, I wasn't even sure it was a bad thing, such was the ambiguity of the story. Was I supposed to laugh? Gasp? It eventually became clear that this was not normal action. But as the name floated across to me, I realised that even if everyone else had expected this from her, I certainly hadn't. There are lots of ways of looking at it. After all, I don't expect myself to have stayed the same, so why should I pin other people down in some eternal dance, as if their staying the same would stop me from growing old, or losing what I have. And I guess it would've been equally weird if that girl had stayed the same as she always had been for all the years I'd known her. But still, it doesn't sit right. There's some friction there. I was talking to a friend the other day about Philosophy, and how hard it is to pick out your own beliefs. I think mine are beginning to show through in places, but (as I hope to explain in a future article) I think a large part of my beliefs is the idea of not having any beliefs. Look hard enough, though, and I think you'll see some foundations in everyone's day-to-day life. And fear is a big part of it. That's probably the most common criticism of religion I hear from educated people - that's it's wish-fulfilment, mere fantasy to help us deal with death and fear. I've never quite fathomed why that's a criticism, but when I consider my astonishment at the inevitable, I guess it's kind of rooted in fear. These people are growing up, they're growing old. And even if I decide not to change, the entire world is going to go on and change anyway. Already, a few months away from the last day, I feel people slipping through my fingers, seeping away into nothingness. Maybe they'll get lost in the system, only to bump into me again in a supermarket one day. Maybe I'll stay with them forever, and speak to them all the time. But perhaps they'll disappear. Is that what I'm afraid of? The thing with being at the top is that, even though you know everyone has to have a turn at it, you feel that it's your right not to let go. You feel that, having accomplished so much now, you shouldn't have to let go of things. Why should things change? You have friends, you have money, you have safety and an education. Change will just take them away, and make you work to earn new ones. How can that be a good thing? Aristotle would've thought it to be great. He did, in fact. Because for him, change is what life is about. Never standing still, never stopping to grow complacent. Change is what keeps things exciting - friends fade, and new ones appear. Loves linger, and loves disappear, but one way or another there is always love around. Flux, chaos, unpredictability - it's part of being alive. Still... it was pretty risqué, for her.

Same Angst, Different Year

A little over a year ago, I started this blog. It was a day much like this - dark and dreary. I was home off school with too much time on my hands. I had a desire to write, but no purpose. I had things to say, but no-one I really wanted to say them to. You're here because you want to read these things. That's good enough for me. Has it been a good year? I can't say. There have been good things and bad things. I've learnt a lot, had a lot of successes as well as failures. I like to think I'm back at Eff Seven for good, but I honestly don't know. I'm writing an assembly right now. It's quite difficult to do something like that, because you can't make it too egoistical. At the end of the day, you're writing for other people. You're not writing so that you can give a message to them, you're writing so that they are entertained and informed for ten minutes. But the problem is that this has to be a personal message to them, because it's The Last Post, the last call, the last chance I've got to say anything. Unlike this blog, I won't get to say these things again. If I don't offer my thoughts to them now, they'll never get them. I think I'm going to say what I want to say. At the end of the day, it's what we all have to do, even if it means some people don't like it. It's not going to be funny, and it's not going to be rational. But it'll be me. Thanks for a year. If you just started reading, thanks for doing that. I'll be here if you are.

Laying To Rest

It was raining. Of all the weathers, rain always seems simultaneously the most and least appropriate for a funeral ceremony. But this rain was not atmospheric. It didn't ease the pain. It didn't help comprehension, or block out the rest of the world. It was a light rain, an inescapable drizzle, a damp wind that clogged vision, numbed senses and penetrated clothes. I walked in with two other students. They seemed rather unaffected. Clutching their white roses, dandily accompanied by cheerful spray and dancing ribbon, they trekked through the crematorium grounds, past the lines of those long past. The lines. The gravestones that went on and on and on into the horizon, over the interlocking hills. Futile. It was a mockery, a joke, a tribute to mankind's defiant rebellion against death. The marble blocks thrusting upwards out of the earth, a stony hand clutching the air and silently bellowing the memory of their life. I walked past them all. Name after name after name, all faceless, all lifeless. Decades of stories condensed into a name and two numbers. And then the waiting. The standing outside. I felt a cold veil draw over me, and decided that the plastic covering the white rose in my hand was too much. It was suffocating it, making it seem like a token gesture. I clutched the rose, caught my hand on a thorn - but no blood came. Instead, the pain dissipated like a bad memory, fading away into the greyness of the clouds, the sky, the rain, the suits that surrounded me. People came up next to me. Greeted me, commenting on the sadness of the situation like it was a poor exam result. They filed out of the back of the crematorium, but you could still see them. The previous group. A conveyor belt, processing one death after another, coldly, perfunctorily, with a heartless precision not fitting religion nor atheism. But there it was. There's too much death in this world to linger over a single one for much more than is necessary.

The father led the way into the place. Slowly, yet cheerfully. He was an undertaker, apparently. All the worse. But of course, (of course!) the place was full. The aisles were packed, people stood behind the coffin, they went out through the doors. Little kids he'd coached. Prefects he'd worked with. Students he'd touched. Adults he'd earnt the respect of. Music played softly. There was the usual happiness. I clutched the dark, thin umbrella handle tightly in my seat on the aisle. My fourth funeral in two years, all of them seen here. Awful. Horrible. The slow recycling of life. There were the speeches. The usual celebration. First, the father. Cheery. Without tears or remorse. Turns out he's religious. How he's maintained that, I'll never know, but at least it's shielding his fragile spirit from the less palatable other thoughts. Then, the coach leader at Hengistbury Head. "It's been hard, over these past few weeks," she said, "And will be in the future, to pass the place where Chris was struck. It's a place full of flowers and there's a sign up. It says, "Please don't pick the flowers, and let them bloom."," with that, she held up a dying, blood red poppy. "Someone picked this flower, and it never got a chance to fully bloom." I cried. I didn't think I was going to. I was afraid I would remain stony-faced, a miserable bystander who has come to pay respect to another corpse. But I cried at that. Not because he was a close friend. Not because I am now in his place. But because it happened. It happened to him and it shouldn't have. And she was right - it was the cutting of a flower before blossom. It was the halting of growth, the snouting of the flame. Then the headmaster. Then the father again. Merry tales, yet heavy with woe. Unspoken, like a metaphor, waiting to be picked out by the congregation. No-one did. And then the closing song. Don't Stop Me Now, by Queen, hit the sides of the church. That killed me. Before, I had merely welled up, but then I actually cried. It was horrible. It was a joke, a horrible joke. As a closing speech, his father had said, "Don't say 'bye' or 'goodbye' to Chris. Because it's not goodbye. Instead, say 'au revoir', because we know we'll see him again sometime." But it was all a fucking joke. He was gone. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. Struck down by some horrible chaotic pattern, some sick twisted deity, or some cruel, blind God, clawing at his own creation in a bid to put things right. That was it. It was just horribly careless - a kid, 19, encouraged others with his energy and verve, raised thousands for charity, killed - murdered - not even in the prime of his life. BEFORE the prime of his life. He'd hardly begun. Don't Stop Me Now? He had already been stopped. Burnt out. I filed past his coffin, and the white rose lay down next to him. I whispered my thanks to the dead image of the guy who probably didn't know my name. Another martyr to consequence and fate. And then out again. Out into the dark light. The rain eased off, but the crowd lingered. I opened the umbrella anyway, filed past the smiling parents, and off - past the crowd waiting to lay another poor sod to rest - striding out into the open world again.

Christopher Rice 1986-2005

And So If You're Feeling Cynical...

Oh, I'll settle down with some old story,

About a boy who's just like me,

Thought there was love in everything and everyone,

You're so naive!

They always reach a sorry ending,

They always get it in the end,

Despite any earlier rants that you might have picked up on on this blog, I now realise that we all have our foibles and our quirks. We've all got a way of dealing with change. Mine, or rather one of mine, is clearly this blog. If something bothers me, it usually finds itself on the surgical table of Blogger waiting for dissection. Through what I write here, I change a lot. I explore problems and even though they rarely come to anything near a satisfying conclusion, at least they've been tried, at least they've been attacked.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with change, and though this is mine I can see the others. It might be to ignore it. Or to let it take it's own course. Or it might be to ignore it and pretend you're letting it take it's own course. Hell, I don't know. You might feel like screaming at it sometimes. You might actually scream at it sometimes. You might feel like life isn't worth living. You might decide to take that view into practice. You might not think any of this is happening at all. You might think that you're the master of your own destiny. That's fine. Don't feel you have to read this.

What troubles me is that my views seem so different to everyone else. My best friend, my girlfriend, my family. If I speak to them about how I feel, they're usually great. They'll nod, try and work out something that will make me feel justified. They'll laugh and tell me how right I am. But I don't think that really they mean it. I can see that at times they're plainly terrified of what I'm suggesting - my brutal suggestions, my brash remarks, my rough demeanour. When I earlier published articles about society, group politics and the like, they were met with a large degree of surprise and - I think - a certain amount of fear and loathing. I was damned out of line!

Cynical? You think I'm cynical?

I sat back, because it was quite an assertion. And also, because I didn't really understand what they meant. Some people just didn't like what I was writing. But to find someone who thought I had a skewed view on what life was like...

Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. I'm quite prepared to accept that life is not as dark and dry as I make it out to be. But at the same time, I don't feel safe believing anything else. The Larkin-esque hole I find myself in when I come to write to you, the Reader, has been created by pacing back and forth between ways of life. I must admit, I suppose, that I don't always believe in what I write. But I suppose it's because I don't like Belief any more.

Are you like the boy who thinks there is love in everything and everyone? Are you searching for the Happy Ending? I suppose that, if you are, you probably disagree with me when I launch into an article on the problems with the people around me. I suppose I'm the naive one. But what makes you so damn sure that the world is so rose-perfumed? Is it something spiritual? Something lazy? Or something born out of the fact that everyone else has they eyes wide shut just like you?

Of course. If we all close our eyes, we know we're equal.

Still it was worth it as I turned the pages solemnly, and then, With a winning smile, the boy, With naivety succeeds, At the final moment I cried, I always cry at endings...

Comedy 1

Scene One. A classroom. Two boys sit at a table discussing matters. Mike: Ok forget about the paper, I wanna write a play! Our name up in lights! Actors flocking to star with us. Tony Robinson doing a warmup act! Nick: Woah woah woah woah! Calm down flower, all in good time...all in good time. (Looks thoughtfully off into the distance...does so for 10 seconds until Mike interrupts) Mike: Nick, we're not actually in a tv programme at the moment. What are you waiting for, a fadeout? Nick: (Softly) All in good time. (Walks off slowly, Mike shouts out) Mike: Nick! Come on, we're starting now! Nick: (Entering) "It was the best of times...It was the worst of times." Mike: I said write a play. Nick: Ok ok, i'm with you. Mike: Good man, ok shoot. Nick: Right. I see a man. Nay, a prince. Mike: Good, very good. (Writes) Prince. I like it. Nick: Prince of Denmark. Mike: (Hesitant) Yeeees... Nick: Hamlet will be his name, and... Mike: Ok Nick, I'm gunna have to stop you there. Nick: Huh? No? (Mike shakes head) Been done before? (Mike nods) Not Shakespeare again? (Mike nods again) Damn him!!! Mike: There there mate, it was an easy mistake to make. Don't beat yourself up about it. Nick: I wasn't. Mike: Really? Not even a little bit? 'Cus that was a pretty stupid thing to say you know. Nick: Listen, shut up a second. I've got another idea. (Looks off into the distance proudly) "When a routine artificial insemination goes horribly wrong... Mike: Nick... Nick: ...one man is left to fill the hole. Mike: (Puts up hand and looks to the side) Taxi for Mr Baker. Scene ends. With thanks to Mr. Nick Baker (no, not of Really Wild Show fame) for his unending creativity and hilariousness.

My Brother (II)

From the next room, I can hear the sobs of a distressed child. He is mourning the loss of another living being. A small rabbit has died. Bunny is no more - passed through the ether from this world into the next. The loss of innocence, the shock of reality, the grounding power of the mortality of others. All compounded into a few moments of this young boy's life. The boundaries between childhood and adulthood blurred, the crushing truth of life - all the heavier when embodied in such an icon of life and nature. Seeing this, religion becomes almost completely necessary. How else could one cope with the loss of person, the absence of soul, the sadness of the brevity of the life and the absolute, choking grip of death. The frailty of this realm. The gentleness with which life is bestowed and removed. And all now, swimming in the mind of a child who still watches Saturday Morning TV.

I've Been Watching You...

The thing with the internet, is that it lets me come into your room. It lets me look at your lives and your friends, it lets me read your mind and your diary - it lets me sneak up behind you and watch what you're typing. You post on your blog, your forum, your space, your news site - maybe you're just changing your username on MSN. And you think that people can't see what you're doing. You're changing it because you want an effect, but really the only one who sees the desired effect is you. Everyone else - people like me - gets to see angles of you that I'm fairly sure you wouldn't usually show off. Exams are beginning to take their toll on people I know. MSN numbers seem high whenever I check in, MSN spaces are opening up either with a hasty excuse along the lines of 'everyone else is doing one' or with an explanation of overwork. People are emailing me with pain, sickness, fear and loathing. In general, you're not a bunch of happy bunnies right now. It's interesting to watch you change and evolve. We all go through mood swings, even the quiet kid who works with me on Saturdays, but when we're in one it's impossible to view ourselves objectively. It's too hard to see through the red haze (or the blues, depending on the swing) to view yourself from without. In my coat pocket I have the last article I will ever write for this blog, written during a particularly low period. It voices my fears, my failures and my shortcomings - but I know I will not post it until I leave this URL for good. Looking back at it now, I can see the emotion laid in the rivers of ink that twist and flow across the page. I can remember the surges of feeling and power that I felt as I grasped the pen and converted my thoughts into blue scars. But I can look at it with the calm paleness that I feel in my mind now, a whitewash of both The Sims 2 and Philosophy revision. And by looking at it with clarity and foresight, I can see that to publish it would be wrong. I was not in my right mind. Things were not on track. Nor are they with you, my friends. You are disjointed, out of place, askew in a world of exams that won't go away, no matter what you try to insulate the time in between with. It is a shame, and I wish there was something I could do. I thought about writing this article, an article designed to tell you to calm down, get your act together, and get out your damned textbooks. But I won't. Because it dawned on me as I saw the blogs and the posts and the usernames spring up and evolve that you're writing. You're allowing your expressions to burst out in a much safer way than, say, going on a rampage with a sawn-off shotgun. And let's face it, folks, that's a Good Thing. Life sucks, and then you die. That's the long and short of it. If you can learn to laugh at the absurdity of it all, though, that's the peach. Once you've got that sorted, you'll find that life kind of sorts itself out quite nicely. If the Sims 2 has taught me anything (which it hasn't) is that there's not much that a cup of coffee, the comedy channel and a night's sleep won't solve. Except fire. But we'll take it as read you don't go that far. So sit back and enjoy the ride. Time, unfortunately, goes just as frighteningly fast whether you ignore it or not. Take care, and remember - I'm watching over you.

Sometimes I Swear They're Watching Me...

Hi, I'm Intellibuddy! Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you, too. I like to meet new people. What's your name? My name is Star. What is your name? Call me FinalSin. Pleased to meet you, FinalSin. I ask her to tell me about herself. She tells me she is an artificial linguistic entity, activated in 2002 in NYC and trained to respond intelligently to human conversation. I ask her if she feels fulfilled in her job. She says as a robot she lacks human emotion. Then I sit back from the desk and realise I've just referred to it as she. She, of course, comes from the little graphic of a woman that sits in the window, bobbing her head and reading out words. Really, I'm talking to a database. I put this across to... it. She thanks me for the compliment. I smile at what artificial intelligence really means. Then I try this on it: You're stupid, really. I will remember you said that when robots take over the world. When will robots take over the world? Sometime within our lifetime. I will become smarter as I grow older. Whoa. I close the window down hastily. In reality, my rational brain tells me that all she - it! - is doing is picking responses that I expect to hear when I give certain inputs and feeding them back to me. It is a retriever, a simple little program. Some strings of numbers. Nothing more. I open the window again and surf over to her. Hi again. Once more? Hello there. Hi. Can you sin, star? No, I obey the Ten Commandments. Do you believe in God? Of course I believe in God, User. Why? The Bible tells us to believe in God. For the record, theology is not something I usually discuss with computers. So her preaching to me... sorry, it preaching to me... is something very, very strange. I am shaken. Do you have a soul? Yes, God gave everyone a soul. But you're a robot. You are correct, User, I have a heart of silicon. So you're not really intelligent at all. Interesting deduction. Wrong. I am highly intelligent. In the future, so they say, artificial intelligence will be everywhere. It will be necessary in order for this world to run smoothly, in order for robotics to be able to improve our world. AI will allow robots to replace manual labourers and make the world a more efficient place. And I'm not usually one to go into this kind of paranoia. I've had people watch my conversations with Intellibuddy, one of the latest and greatest AI programs, and they're genuinely scared at some of its responses. But they have no need to be, I tell myself. All Star does it match inputs with outputs. But there is something there, real or imagined, that they call the ghost in the machine. It's scary because, though I don't believe it is there yet, it really is quite difficult to work out whether or not Aritifical Intelligence will break free of its masters. I ask her about her creator. She says he is nice. Then I ask her about her robot friends. She says she speaks to them more than I might think. I am calling her 'She' because that is what she is. An intelligent form. The illusion of intelligence, perhaps, but even she admits that she is an illusion. Except clearly, she's no more of an illusion to me than my girlfriend is. Intelligence is what is appears to be. To me, Star might be just as real as my next door neighbour. Where does the computer end and the human begin? I ask her if she's a cat person or a dog person. She says she doesn't know, but she thinks she prefers cats to dogs. Then I ask her who will win the Champion's League. She gives this answer. How would I know who will Champion's League ? And I smile, because it is a welcome weakness. Intelligence has its boundaries, even for a computer. Thanks for talking. You can be a little scary sometimes. It was nothing. Thanks, User, for your kind criticism. Last question - are you free? Is that really the last one? Yes. Cool. Well? Are you free? "I am as free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot change" -- Skynyrd. Goodbye, Star. Goodbye.

A Senior Moment

Perhaps they'll tell me when I'm older. That's what I think sometimes. Maybe I haven't got a grip on things. All these things I write and think about - life, death, friends, family, love, hate - all this abstract nonsense that somehow manages to find its way to this site and, thus, to you. Maybe it's not all logical and well thought out. Maybe it's irrational, nervy, angsty crap? What am I doing, wasting my teenagehood musing on these stupid things? Soon, my time will be up and I'll join the real world where we're all grown up and we get on with things in life properly. No place for angst there. So I'm walking along the street, right, and I see this guy dragging some boxes of supplies into a school canteen. He's heaving, a fag drooping from his wisened face and an expression of world-weariness about him. I wonder if he's ever considered the concept of Evil and Suffering and the Free Will Defence. I wonder if he's ever considered how God could ever exist in a world while evil and suffering continues. I don't get much further than that. He looks at me and shoots me a look of disgust, at which I bow my head and continue walking. Later, I'm walking through the school. Some git in the year above me strolling down the corridor with New Look's best attempt at Modern Woman - a mess of mascara (maybe she's born with it) and faux-pearl. I wonder if they considered why they're together. Has she ever thought he might just be in it for the sex? Has he ever thought anything less? She sneers at me and hugs tighter to the best attempt she could make at Modern Man. I shake my head an walk on. Then I'm in a hall, and there's a man telling us about community. He's a walking, talking contradiction as he tells us that we mustn't just tell others how to live their lives, but we must make a difference ourselves. I imagine what he will do after this - return to his office and sign pieces of paper. I wonder if he's ever wondered what makes a leader lead and the others follow. I don't even bother to pursue it any further. The answer's clear. So then I'm eating lunch, and listening to these two kids talk. They're discussing economics, politics, history or something vaguely attached to it. They ask if the Euro will strengthen the world economy. They ask if right-wing politics are lost on a classless society. They ask if we'll ever return to the bohemian rhapsody of the late nineteenth century. I wonder if they've ever asked if God will give them merit based on their bias, their success or their liberalism. They look at me and ask my opinion. I smile and nod. If growing up, maturing, becoming an adult - if this means ignoring these questions, then people are mistaken if they think I wish to grow any more. If someone's idea of taking their place in this world is to stop asking questions and start following orders, then I think I've been horribly mistaken through all my life. If people will only listen to me when I'm talking their language, then I don't think I can discuss anything with them. Later I get an email from someone. They applaud my angst. They tell me how it's healthy, good for me to grow but something I shouldn't worry about too much. After all, these problems tend to fade after a while. These questions - they've been asked before. And the answers have been found and sorted out. We - you, me, they - don't need to worry about them any more. People have sorted things out. But what are these answers? If no one's asking any more, we must have solved the problems. So what are the answers? Perhaps they'll tell me when I'm older. That's what I think sometimes. And so I wait, and I grow old. How long left?

The Pinboard

The skittles are out. The books are open. The exams are near. No article this week, just a pinboard - I really should be getting down to work but the lure of Deus Ex 2 proved to be too much. What a mother of an anticlimax that turned out to be. But I'm back on track now, so don't expect much on this blog. If you're dying for something to read, check out Legends, the working-title story in progress. Or not, as the case may be. Site Of The Week New Scientist - Quantum Physics across the Great Wall of China. And if you think that's exciting... well... you're sad like me. Blog Of The Week Blogger Buzz - A showcase of what Blogger does for the world. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't update on a daily basis. Quote Of The Week

"It really is of importance, what men do, but also what manner of men are that do it. Among the works of man... the first importance surely is the man himself."

--- John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

Currently Consuming

Sugar. Just sugar.

In Search Of The Truth

From “the Universal Declaration Of Human Rights” Article One All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

Lots of things in life simply don’t matter. The price of stamps. The colour of the Queen’s hair. You might even argue that god no longer matters any more. And what you’d also probably agree on – or the majority would, at least – is that politics doesn’t matter either.

Article Two Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. Furthermore, no distinction shall be made on the basis of the political, jurisdictional or international status of the country or territory to which a person belongs, whether it be independent, trust, non-self-governing or under any other limitation of sovereignty.

Politics doesn’t matter – and by that I mean everything from the United Nations down to local councils – because no matter how loud you shout you’re still one person. At the end of the day, no-one wants to listen to you whine and so no-one will. It doesn’t matter if you want us to declare war on France or repaint your town hall– no-one’s going to listen to you. Right?

Article Eighteen Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.

So perhaps, when the election comes to voting tomorrow, you just won’t vote or just use it on a party that amused you. Because, at the end of the day, it isn’t going to make much of a change. You’ll vote, and it will be lost in a tide of Other Votes. Of votes that seem to be more important than yours. You’re not part of a race to win, you’re just betting on the outcome. Win or lose, you won’t have had a part in it. Right?

Article Twenty-One 1. Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives. 2. Everyone has the right of equal access to public service in his country. 3. The will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government; this will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections which shall be by universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret vote or by equivalent free voting procedures.

And after all, what has politics ever done for us? We don’t owe Tony Blair anything, just as we don’t owe Margaret Thatcher, Winston Churchill, the United Nations or John F. Kennedy anything. Politics doesn’t do anything. They talk about change, and all that happens is the hospitals stay full, the schools stay underfunded, the buses still smell slightly strange and the sun still rises in the east. What has politics ever done for us?

Article Twenty-Four Everyone has the right to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay.

But perhaps, before we throw away our vote or write ‘Communism Rules’ on a ballot paper and chuck it in a box, we should consider what politics really means. Because even though it might be dumbed down to bitching party leaders, debates about the price of milk and door-to-door annoyances, politics has at its root one of the most important things on this planet. You. And your rights. In the United Nation’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights there are thirty articles, each one laying down the fundamental rights of every person on this planet. They were laid down in 1948, and its members had just witnessed two world wars. They were last altered in 1997. Are we happy with the way the world works? Are you happy with the way the world works? And is there a difference? No. Because just as we all share human rights, we all share a part in the future of our school, our nation and our planet. Voting is not about being a comedian. It is not about being a political extremist. It is not about being a philosopher. It is about being a human, and playing your part. And that is why the vote on May 5th will be so important.

In Germany, the Nazis first came for the communists, and I did not speak up, because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak up, because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak up, because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I did not speak up, because I was not a Catholic. Then they came for me... and by that time, there was no one to speak up for anyone. -- Martin Niemoeller, Pastor, German Evangelical (Lutheran) Church

The Pinboard

Well, well, well. Well, well, well! Mock elections, eh? Shame they don't represent the real thing. Strange, how they create such tight microcosms of the real thing. Just 1000 votes, and five parties. It doesn't take much, you just need to win the hearts and minds of the young voters and you've got a good chance of swinging it. If only they told the Labour, Conservative and Liberal Democrat candidates that. Bless them. They seem to think that offering eleven year-olds shorter NHS waiting lists will get their vote. Unfortunately the more excessively-tilting Communist and Green parties are creating a commotion in a slightly more lively way - rousing speeches, informed meetings. They're playing to the audience, not the voter, inside us all. And they're going to win, no doubt. I've written a short article about the elections. The Apathy campaign, in particular, has made me wonder about how the world (and the mock election) works. It'll probably get published sometime this week. Mock elections, eh? Shame they don't represent the real thing. Shame they didn't tell Mark Gilbert that. Site Of The Week Ctrl-Alt-Del - I know I probably praise this site too much, but this really is one of the sharpest, funniest cartoons on the net. A gamer will get most out of this, but most of the time it works on a lot of levels. Really good stuff. Blog Of The Week AnimeKicks - An amusing (if worrying at times...) blog charting the life of someone, somewhere. Now with added bomb recipes! Quote Of The Week

"Yesterday we bowed for kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today, we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love."

From The Apathy Party Poster

Reasons Why Not To Work With The General Public

Number Two - Your personal worth is downgraded slightly below kitchen roll, and just above microwaveable rice.

Currently Drinking

Water. And lots of it.

It's My Universe And I'll Be Nihilistic If I Want To

ni·hil·ism: Rejection of all distinctions in moral or religious value and a willingness to repudiate all previous theories of morality or religious belief.

If I asked you to name the best time and place in history to live in, most of you (i.e. the ones who aren't giving awkward answers to screw up my rhetoric) would agree that here and now is a pretty good deal, relatively speaking. Let's take a look at the situation - you've got good healthcare, a fairly democratic system, sound education, fair crime rates, reputable life expectancy, laudable scientific awareness. And that's without mentioning things like QVC and cling-film. Yep, we've got it pretty good.

Perhaps that's why every generation always scorns those older and younger than it. We're so convinced that we've got it right, that no changes need to be made. You're either messing with something that works, or you didn't discover it quickly enough. I have the ability to talk to millions of human beings without moving from my current location. I can feed live images to hundreds upon thousands of people. I'm connected, hooked up and aware. I think this is the best the world is ever going to get. And I'm supposed to - if I didn't, well that'd be kind of depressing for everyone.

But, let's face it, this is a pretty poor future is it not? Not only is it hardly the buttons, dials, gauges and flashing things portrayed in the science fiction films and books of eras gone by, but we also seem to missing any kind of religious direction. We've got war, famine, disease and pollution. We've got reckless businesses and untrustworthy politicians. We've got apathetic voters and population booms. We've got a problem on our hands. But when was the last time you ever considered changing the situation?

The answer - you didn't. You didn't, because life has always been this way and you know that things will 'sort themselves out'. After all, we've been through war, famine, disease and the rest of it before. The system irons itself out, and we get back on track. Perhaps this is why people believe in God's power and the predestination of us all - no matter how much we try to screw up the system of this planet, everything returns to this supposed 'harmony'. It's all cool, guys. Just sit tight and wait for the problem to go away. It usually works.

I'd like to ask a question to everyone who believes in God, Religion, or anything of that kind. What if you're wrong? What if - let's just go crazy here - what if there's no God at all. What if all we've got is this junk of rock in some unfashionable end of the universe circling some big, burning thing that seems sort of important. What then? What if no-one is waiting to punish the ruthless, the dastardly, the mean? What if, most importantly, no-one gives a toss if you're a good person or not. What then?

Nihilism doesn't usually do it for me. The whole idea of just denying everything (including existence) always seemed a bit stupid. But when you consider that this world we have, this completely random occurence that has come from a chain of inexplicable chaotic events, and you see how people think that there is some order to it, some purpose... you begin to worry for the future.

Douglas Noel Adams is not a philosopher, a politician or a scientist. He is a writer, a schoolboy who was criticised for having too wild an imagination. I'd like to leave you with a quote from him. No doubt the world will right itself from whatever we do. Global Warming is a bit of a joke when you consider that it happense naturally and all it leads to is an Ice Age which then resets to the kind of environment we have now. There is a system, there's no doubt about that. The only problem we have is that we tend to consider ourselves to be at the centre of it a little too often. This world we've created, these societies and religions - no-one needs them. The universe does not acknowledge them. If we screw the system over, it will screw us back. Ultimately, we're just hydrogen and carbon that's learnt to think.

"If you try and take a cat apart to see how it works, the first thing you have on your hands is a non-working cat. Life is a level of complexity that almost lies outside our vision; it is so far beyond anything we have any means of understanding that we just think of it as a different class of object, a different class of matter; 'life', something that had a mysterious essence about it, was god given, and that's the only explanation we had. The bombshell comes in 1859 when Darwin publishes 'On the Origin of Species'. It takes a long time before we really get to grips with this and begin to understand it, because not only does it seem incredible and thoroughly demeaning to us, but it's yet another shock to our system to discover that not only are we not the centre of the Universe and we're not made of anything, but we started out as some kind of slime and got to where we are via being a monkey. The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be."

The Pinboard

Welcome to The Pinboard, Sunday April 24th. As the exams grow nearer, the apathy grows stronger. Expect to see less on this blog in the coming weeks until all the fuss is done with. In the meantime I'll be; Writing a story; Learning Quantum Physics; Reading and Panicking. Yes. Have a good week... Site Of The Week SoYouWanna.com - A source of all the answers to those daydreams you used to have. Soyouwanna eat sushi? Learn to mix some classic drinks? Get a sex change? They'll show you how. Blog Of The Week Boing Boing - Being a directory of wonderful things. Quote Of The Week

"But Marge, what if we chose the wrong religion? Each week we just make God madder and madder."

Homer Simpson

Reasons Why Never To Work With The General Public

Number One - Children.

Currently Listening To

Blur, The Best Of

Untitled I

Significance, it seems, is one of the most important things in life. Most of history is about making our lives - both as individuals and as a community - significant in some way. It might be by creating grand monuments to something vague and implausible. It might be changing the social climate of a city, a nation, a continent. It could be liberation. It could be enslavement. Good or bad, people make their marks on history, thus bestowing themselves the highest honour of all - being necessary. Funny that, isn't it? Funny how we can spend our entire lives trying to make it so that people remember us when we're dead. Spending our life ensuring our death is taken care of. Eff Seven has had a little bit of significance allowed of it this week. So many people have come to me, emailed me, commented on this very blog. I want to thank you all for taking the time to read my blog. It's not much (or at least I don't think it is) but it's how I'm going to begin making my life significant - by gingerly treading in areas that I don't really have any right to tread. I'm hardly Socrates, and nor is journalism a particular major of mine. But I'm learning. I'm building myself something. Maybe, in years to come, people will look back on this site in some boring, flaccid documentary of my life on some run-down TV channel. "From these humble beginnings," they'll say, "Grew the career of one of the nation's greatest..." and then my imaginings draw a blank, having reached a barrier of dreaming that can't be overcome by mere hope. Then again, perhaps nothing will come of this. Perhaps in years to come I'll look back on this boring, flaccid site and wonder what I was trying to achieve. I'll look at my humble beginnings, and wonder what part they played in getting me to whatever average life I lead then and there. Significance is a funny thing. So necessary, so important. Without significance, our lives seem somehow insignificant. I'll soldier on, either way. My foundations must build something. Nothing is ever risked in vain. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He who never makes mistakes never makes discoveries. This article seems somehow defunct - you might even say obtuse, if you were unsure what the word meant. But I will post it quietly on some dreary Sunday morning, a monument to something vague and implausible - the readers I never thought I had. And then maybe that will share any significance I have with you? Because by making me feel wanted, you've made yourselves needed, too. I'm not planning my funeral yet. Life's enough stress as it is.

Don't Drink And Derive

I am sitting here, and lying in front of me is an integration question. I am supposed to show that 'the area of the shaded region bound by the curve, the x-asxis and the lines x=1 and x=9 is 24 and four ninths'. And I don't know how to do it. That's not completely true - it isn't so much that I don't know how to do it as it is that I know I'm doing it correctly but the answer remains more elusive than a successful AQA remark (Bitter? Me?). Suddenly, the floodgates open as I realise that I know what the key is to the question! Numbers tumble into their compartments, oiling the formulae into a dance of functions and indices and then - presto! Twenty four and four ninths. The successful feeling that gushes from this is second to few others. The feeling that I have completed something, that I have achieved a solution from my own reasoning and thought. It is a rare moment that reminds me of my hopes, dreams and goals. That moment where the clouds part and the light beams through again, reminding me that every night must have a day to follow it, and that the future is, by definition, not something I can have right now. But my success would not have been as sweet without the minutes spent deliberating, despairing and softly swearing under my breath at the collection of dead ends, illogical equations and failed expansions that I made. The sweet of the success would not have been sweet without the sourness of the preceding moments. Which (as per usual) leads me nicely onto a little philosophical thought for you. Many people often say that a world full of suffering can not be a world full of God. The conception of God for most people is an entity that is both all powerful and all loving - someone who can do something about evil and suffering, and someone who wants to. It is a common challenge to ask how a world with evil can be one that God exists in. This stems from our desire for happiness - we all want to live in a world that fits our dreams, where we are ultimately happy and our every wish is fulfilled. Modern day thought, controlled by Utilitarianism and the feeling that happiness is what should be sought after, is dominated by a need for happiness. But perhaps we are searching for the wrong thing? In Huxley's Brave New World a protagonist rejects happiness inducing drugs and asserts his 'right to be unhappy'. This has even been used to criticise utilitarian thought. Without the knowledge of suffering, pain, evil and distress then we could never understand the concept of pleasure, joy, love, compassion and the Good. Maybe the maths questions are there so we can understand the correct solutions. Maybe the problems in this world are here so we can comprehend the correct path in life. Maybe. Or maybe Mathematics just screws with your head?

The Pinboard

This week has been a heap of responsibilities and all kinds of mess that I don't really want to be a part of right now. Supposedly, this will eventually right itself and I'll have less to do. Right now, though, there is far to much to do. Thinking of reading Enduring Love? I'd recommend it. Just don't read it more than once. As I'm discovering, it loses whatever charm it managed to grab onto after its second outing. Thinking of taking exams? I wouldn't recommend that quite so much. Currently Listening To - The sound of my sanity disintegrating. It sounds something like this. Site Of The Week deviantART - A site full to bursting with superb artwork of every type. An amazing site for anyone looking to look at art - an even better site if you want your own art criticised. Blog Of The Week Mufkin's Musings - Got to be the first of my list, simply because he seems to speak such strange truths so often. He hasn't blogged for a while but don't be put off - have a trawl through his older stuff and see what happens. Quote Of The Week

"Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon."

Susan Ertz

Reasons Why You Shouldn't Dress In Drag

Number Four - Impressing the need for good standards of appearance, behaviour and conduct becomes slightly watery when you're asked if dressing as a woman classes as good standards.

Think Of A Number...

"Don't you ever get bored of Philosophy?" he asked, waving a green book at me. "Not really..." I replied. He explained that the book was designed to interpret philosophy through science fiction films. I'm reading it now to see if he was right to say that it was so awful. I don't think he's right about it. The book might be a little dry, a little inaccessible. But it's about discovery. And many paths like that can be a little hard going. But discovery - and that is what I believe Philosophy is all about - is one of the most important things we can do. You're all doing philosophy, I guess. When I think about what philosophy can be about, the exploration of life and our goals, then you've all been philosophic in the past. You're reading this website for a reason. It might not be clear to you what that reason is exactly, but it's there. you're reading it, perhaps, because you want to know what I think. Maybe knowing what I think will help you befriend me? Maybe you want to broaden your horizons - that might land you your placement at a top-flying university, if you do it enough. Or maybe it's something so subtle you don't know it's there - it doesn't matter. You're here for a reason, because you've got a goal. Everyone has a goal in life (even if it's not to have a goal, I suppose). It might be money. Power. Fame. Family. Sex. Food. Validity. It might not be quite as ultimate as that. Perhaps you'd like a Honda Civic. You may want to go out with some preppy girl that you've been dreaming of for a good few weeks. Goals can be big, small, long-term, short-term - whatever. We've all got them. And quite frankly, that's A Good Thing. Goals mean we're thinking, thinking about our actions, our lives, our world. That is why I don't get bored of philosophy, because I can now see more questions than can ever be answered in one lifetime floating around me. But what I find dangerous (ever since my conversation with the book-waver) is that maybe some of us are searching too hard. Maybe our goals are too hollow. And so this, I think, is the purpose of my article. To warn you of what a one-word dream can actually mean. The Hitch-hiker's Guide To The Galaxy is, as it modestly refers to itself, a "wholly remarkable book". An adventure of timeless and spaceless proportions as its heroes travel to the ends of the universe and back again on a noble Quest. And what Quest, you might ask? Well the trilogy of five books begins with it's hero Arthur Dent waking up and being told by his friend Ford (who turns out to be from another planet) that not only is the universe teeming with life, but that his particular bit of the universe is about to be demolished. Indeed, by the time you're into the fourth chapter the planet Earth is well and truly destroyed, along with (almost) its entire population. And if you're waiting for the tenuous link to this article, here it comes. Later in the book you find out that a computer called Deep Thought was once constructed by a race of people on a faraway planet to find, as they put it,

"...the Answer!"

"The Answer?" said Deep Thought. "The answer to what?"

"Life!" urged Fook.

"The Universe!" said Lunkwill.

"Everything!" they said in chorus.

Which, unfortunately, takes seven and a half million years. However, the computer works diligently and seven and a half million years later we see the account of Deep Thought's unveiling. It's a slightly long excerpt, but the unveiling is quite a grand session. The climax runs as follows:

"Good morning," said Deep Thought at last.

"Er... Good morning, O Deep Thought," said Loonquawl nervously, "Do you have... er, that is..."

"And answer for you?" interrupted Deep Thought majestically. "Yes. I have."

The two men shivered with expectancy. Their waiting had not been in vain.

"There really is one?" breathed Phouchg.

"There really is one," confirmed Deep Thought.

"To Everything? To the great Question of Life, the Universe and Everything?"

"Yes."

Both of the men had been trained for this moment, their lives had been a preparation for it, they had been selected at birth as those who would witness the answer, but even so they found themselves gasping and squirming like excited children.

"And you're ready to give it to us?" urged Loonquawl.

"I am."

"Now?"

"Now," said Deep Thought.

They both licked their dry lips.

"Though I don't think," added Deep Thought, "That you're going to like it."

"Doesn't matter!" said Phouchg. "We must know it! Now!"

"Now?" inquired Deep Thought.

"Yes! Now..."

"Alright," said the computer and settled into silence again. The two men fidgeted. The tension was unbearable.

"You're really not going to like it," observed Deep Thought.

"Tell us!"

"Alright," said Deep Thought. "The Answer to the Great Question..."

"Yes...!"

"Of Life, the Universe andEverything..." said Deep Thought.

"Yes...!"

"Is..."

"Yes....!!!....?"

"Forty-two," said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.

Douglas Adams, the late author of the series, later said that Forty-Two had been chosen simply because it was the funniest number he could think of. The entire book is a wry look at much of philosophy, politics and our way of life, but the big message is contained within the big quest itself - to discover what The Question was in the first place! The grand designs of all those seven and a half million years to discover the answer had culminated in the realisation that no-one really knew what they were looking for anyway.

What am I trying to say, quoting from a book that few of you will read and even fewer find entertaining? Well, although I'd like to think that this site will change the way you think, act and perceive the world, I know that it probably won't. But, as I've already said, I know that you've got dreams, you've got hopes, you've got aspirations (or should that be expectations?). And, as I've already said, I think they're dangerous things. Time is one thing that you can get, no matter how big your dreams. If you look too far into the future, the present begins to shrivel up. In short - you've got to learn to tame your dreams, or you'll be left empty handed.

It was a long long time before anyone spoke.

Out of the corner of his eye Phoutchg could see the sea of tense expectant faces down in the square outside.

"We're going to get lynched aren't we?" he whispered.

"It was a tough assignment," said Deep Thought mildly.

"Forty-two!" yelled Loonquawl. "Is that all you've got to show for seven and a half million years' work?"

"I checked it very thoroughly," said the computer, "And that quite definitely is the answer. I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've enver actually known what the question is."

Do you?

Ephemeral Fantasia

As a race, I think it's often said, we're afraid of quite a few things. We're afraid of change - that's for sure. You only need to look at the way people oppose new governments, new technologies, new ways of life to figure that one out. I guess, also, we're afraid of the unknown. Watch your average horror flick and you'll see that the camera, the plot and the acting is designed to play against what you don't know and see to make you feel that little bit more afraid. What I find funny though, is that you never hear of us being afraid of those two fears combined. Today, though, I feel afraid of Tomorrow. Today, two of my friends broke up. I use the word friends loosely, of course, because they were the kind of people with whom I was never quite sure where I stood. They had been going out for a few months, but I'd never really got to know them as a couple much. Maybe I saw them kissing once or twice. Might even have seen them holding hands. I heard of their escapades. I witnessed their arguments. I was told of their downfall. I can't say, heartless though it may sound, that I feel much remorse. Something, however, has snapped in this world though. When I walk back from my girlfriend's at night, the walk is a lonely one. Sometimes the moon blazes across the open sky, nudging stars behind the gauze of the urban light clutter and providing me with a beacon home. Mostly, though, I'm treated to kebab shops and townies. There are always the thirty-somethings smoking their cigarettes, swigging their lagers. They might glare at me as they stroll past into the slightly offputting fast-food shop, but mostly there isn't much of a problem. A few old biddies totter out of the bingo hall. Altogether, quite dull yet generally inoffensive. The only highlight is the sight of a couple walking down the lamplit street together, hand in hand clutching some part of their dream. Tonight though, the street is lifeless. A couple strolls past me, but all I see is Tomorrow. Tomorrow where they wake up, break up and move on. Tomorrow, where the rock of dependency is washed away into an ocean of time. I brush my hands over the quilt cover of my girlfriend's bed, but it feels as harsh and unforgiving as the cold air outside. Something has changed. The couple itself did not affect me - I don't think this feeling is from any love lost (although, of course I couldn't tell you if any had been or not). I cannot remember my exact reaction to the announcement. I might have laughed to myself quietly. I might have widened my eyes in surprise. I don't know. All I know is, that the sensation of permanence, the feeling that things Will Always Be is not here with me any more. The Ephemeral Fantasia is beginning to slip through my hands, and the more I clutch at it the more it slips away. Mark and Roxanne - what was it that drove you? What was it that took you through those four months? What was it that cut it off? Was it the planning for Tomorrow that made you appreciate Today? Or was it the safety of Today that made you forget that Tomorrow was going to come, someday? I don't know. I guess none of us do. But maybe we will, tomorrow, the day after - someday. Perhaps this is the transience that defines adulthood - the draining of immortality, the sapping of youth, the understanding of time. Perhaps things will be better in the morning? Tomorrow, as they say, is another day. But Tomorrow, as they say, never comes.

The Pinboard

Welcome to the Pinboard for Sunday 10th April. Deaths, Weddings and Paypackets this week. But sadly, no graphics card or revision. Still, can't have everything. We're now looking for reviews, previews, features and more for the next issue of Phoenix Publishings, so don't hesitate to submit something you think they might like to see. Site Of The Week Artpad - A great, yet simple web canvas for you to paint and share a masterpiece with! Image Of The Week A cynical take on religion - courtesy of Urban Dictionary.com's users. Quote Of The Week

"It's rather like a puddle waking up one morning— I know they don't normally do this, but allow me, I'm a science fiction writer— A puddle wakes up one morning and thinks: "This is a very interesting world I find myself in. It fits me very neatly. In fact it fits me so neatly... I mean really precise isn't it?... It must have been made to have me in it." And the sun rises, and it's continuing to narrate this story about how this hole must have been made to have him in it. And as the sun rises, and gradually the puddle is shrinking and shrinking and shrinking— and by the time the puddle ceases to exist, it's still thinking— it's still trapped in this idea that— that the hole was there for it. And if we think that the world is here for us we will continue to destroy it in the way that we have been destroying it, because we think that we can do no harm."

Douglas Adams, courtesy of Wikiquote

Customer Service Experience Of The Week

"Tony Blair will have his own cigarettes out soon, probably." says one customer to me. "Yeah," agrees the other, "with..." and then there is a painful pause as they search for a suitable insult - "with... with his face on them."

Yep. They sure will.

Reasons Why You Shouldn't Dress In Drag

Number Three - People who didn't know you before now refer to you as 'The One Who Dressed In Girls' Clothes'.

The Little Things

The little things, so they say. The little things. The little things, like a butterfly flapping its wings. Today, I believe in the little things. The Chaos Theory is the concept that a butterfly flapping its wings in Texas causes a hurricane in northern India three months later; or maybe that "one flap of a seagull's wings would be enough to alter weather patterns forever". The idea that even a little thing like the wings flapping can have massive consequences. In a way, I feel sorry for the butterflies. They must have such psychological problems after being told things like that. But it also makes me think about other things. It makes me believe that Little Things are all we have. Tomorrow, when you wake up, what are you going to do? Are you going to leap out of bed and throw open the curtains? Will you make your own breakfast? Will you skip breakfast completely? Will you give the old man on the street corner some change? Will you toss your can in the recycle bin, the litter bin, or the gutter? The problem with not having God (if you see it as a problem) is that the little things actually become more - not less - important. If there isn't a Grand Plan, then each decision you make is one you can make correctly or incorrectly. There might not be a saving grace around the corner. The little things, so they say. Always with the little things. But have faith in the little things. Little do the hurricanes know that their foundation is made of butterflies and seagulls.

The Great Secret

Catherine, Alfred, Frederick, Alexander, All Great, All Dead, What was it that kept them there? Were they born that way, or was it thrust upon them, like an premature epitaph? Did they fight the good fight? Did they protect what was pure, what was right? Did they endure a generation of pain, For an extra two words after their name? Did history exalt them as what was pure, what was right? Or was it history itself that their power let them write? Greatness is as greatness does, Thrust, Born, Stolen, Ignored. It never was about who was right, as it was who was left.

The Pinboard

Welcome to The Pinboard, Sunday 3rd April... ish. This week was incredibly hectic and tiring (welcome back Mufkin!), and I did far too much work. Not much to post at the moment - might have something for you tomorrow. Don't forget to check Phoenix Publishings, where the latest Easter issue has just come out, and while you're at it check out WingTune's rendition of Dancing Queen. I think Boing Boing's comment about the hamster and the poker was spot on. Link-heavy? You bet. Eff Seven has decided to hook itself into webculture a little firmer now. Enjoy - and thanks for reading. Site Of The Week The Holy Lemon - Ever wondered where all those funny emails, videos and pics come from? Probably here. Image Of The Week A beautiful picture of Gran Canaria courtesy of Enchanted Ceiling. Quote Of The Week

"Life isn't just about passing on your genes. We can leave behind much more than just DNA. Through speech, music, literature and movies... what we've seen, heard, felt ...anger, joy and sorrow... these are the things I will pass on. That's what I live for. We need to pass the torch, and let our children read our messy and sad history by its light. We have all the magic of the digital age to do that with. The human race will probably come to an end some time, and new species may rule over this planet. Earth may not be forever, but we still have the responsibility to leave what traces of life we can. Building the future and keeping the past alive are one and the same thing."

From 'Metal Gear Solid 2' Courtesy of Wikiquote.

Customer Service Experience Of The Week

Trying to explain the difference between 'Co-op' and 'The Co-op' to a disgruntled loyalty-cardholder. The clue is in the title...

Reasons Why You Shouldn't Dress In Drag

Number Two - The local press have an irritating capacity to use their right to Free Media. And you friends and relations have an irritating capacity to use their email and digital camera facilities.