Dear Blog

Today I feel a little bad. Don't you ever get the feeling that you misjudge people? Take, for instance, Faceless Knob. At first I was led to believe he'd be another loudmouthed Yank. I feel a little harsh on him for doing such. Someone walked up to me today and told me they would finally get round to emailing me. I'd pretty much written them off as hating me, but I struck up the conversation. It turns out he's not that bad a guy. Maybe we don't read enough into things nowadays. Last night I heard about how degree students had written theses on the symbolism of the dancers in the music video for the song 'Praise You' by FatboySlim. In actual fact they were just five people making up a faux-ballet dance. That's reading too far into things. But we aren't things we're people - and we certainly don't read enough into people. I need to watch everyone else more, and actually listen to the words, instead of the phrases. The great thing about humans is that they're only human. At base level... we're all similar. I stay away from the word same because, unfortunately, I don't think that's right. No. Stay away from the philosophy. Today's little snippet of nonsense is the Pheasant Plucker song. Yeah... you just try saying it after three Screwdrivers.

The President's An Asshole (And Other Rants)

Y'ever wondered about what free speech really means? No, me neither. I wasn't really looking for a 'yes' in case you're worried. After testing out the six-people-links-to-everyone idea and eventually ending up on Faceless Knob's blog. In one of his posts, he has a little jab at those hormone-fuelled pink plastic balls of depression that most people just call American teenage girls. He's got a point, you know. Of course, I shouldn't even be mentioning the world girl or anything related to it after the fiasco surrounding an unpublished article of mine (something that only a dozen or so readers will pick up on), but I feel compelled to say something about it. The internet is a magnet for this kind of writing - saturated with thoughts that aren't usually expressed by many people outside of their own minds. But the somewhat strangely named Faceless Knob picks up on this, and he is right when he says that people do not believe anyone reads what they write. No-one reads this. I know no-one reads this, because it is not linked anywhere and what I say is like some long-forgotten ornament. You appreciate its existence, but... there isn't much else to appreciate if you aren't its owner. And so... I speak freely. What I write here is a little closer to the edge, a little further over the line between fact and fiction because I don't think there will be a retaliation. Who is here to worry about what I write? Who is here to care if I say the Presiden't an asshole? No-one. Except the FBI's computers which are scanning every website, live feed and email that's sent. Yes, hi guys. You can move on to the next one now. Osama don't live here any more. But what does free speech mean? What does it really stand for? I don't want free speech. Free speech scares me, in many ways. Speaking to an American friend of mine was what made me worry about how far free speech goes. After watching films, reading articles and shaking my head at a horrific past of the Klu Klux Klan I was told that they regularly march in and around town burning crucifixes. I couldn't believe it. After asking for an explanation - that was when free speech began to worry me. Free speech is abused by those who would do harm and overused by those with nothing to say. Right? Of course I'm right. I'm talking to myself - how can I be anything but completely and utterly correct. Though perhaps Free Speech is all its cracked up to be. People seem to be willing to fight for most things these days, but Free Speech... well it's got the word free in, so it must be pretty good. Plus, the Breakfast Show on BBC News. That and Dead Ringers.....