Social Issues of Britain

This week has been a big one in the world of social work; and is one that could reform many inept and insufficient laws.
The whole “Baby P” case has made my blood boil. (For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, Baby P is a child that died at 17 months old from negligence and abuse at the hands of his mother, her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s best friend. Info can be found at http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/nov/18/childprotection-ukcrime ).

The main body of the argument (and this is what pisses me off, other than the fact that there are some EVIL people in the world) is that the social services are to blame. Well... yes, I suppose they are, but not 100%. The police, teachers, doctors, and a wide range of academic or municipal service people are at liberty to tell the social services what they can blatantly see or hear, but they don’t. Nothing can be done if people just don’t know, right? Maybe I’m arguing the case because my dad recently became a social worker (and he’s a good man damnit) but I personally think that, even though the “Every Child Matters” document, among others, is seriously outdated and no longer protects children the way it was designed to, it’s not necessarily the fault of the people who deal with these cases every day. Think about what you would do in a similar situation; it’s easy enough to say yes, you would take that child away – but honestly, what if you were misjudging the scene? There are so many doubts you could face that you might even be fabricating all these pieces of evidence. So in the end... you tell somebody above you, and they can handle it. That way, you’re not responsible for removing the wrong child from the wrong home. Unfortunately, the pen-pushers at the top of the chain have little time and little care for these matters. “I’ll sort it later”.

This is understandable, but it’s still not solving, or saving anyone. According to the guardian, there are 69,000 known children that are being neglected or abused, and are still living in that home. Why?! I guess the cynical answer to that would, there’s no space to put them anywhere else, not enough people becoming foster parents, not enough money, etc etc. Which, in my opinion, is pretty piss poor. (Despite the lack of space for children, I’ll bet there’s still plenty of cells waiting for these people that think torture is fun... if not cells, then there’s plenty of ground left to create graves.) Another thing that I find outrageous is this; councils are reluctant to act on the claims made by teachers on behalf of neglected/abused children, because OFSTED lower the reputation of a school district if it has children on the child protection register for more than two years. Heaven forbid children showed up at school bruised and wishing someone would love them, Christ...

All these stories I’ve ever read; Victoria Climbié, Dave Peltzer, Baby P... They trigger two reactions. The first is to grab a bat, and go on a bludgeoning spree. These are the kind of people that don’t deserve to live and the only saving grace is that even the cut-throats of prison hate these kinds of people and will make their lives in prison a living hell. It makes me so angry!

The second (which is slightly more positive) is that i want to help. Initially, it makes me want to seek out these children personally and take them somewhere where they don’t have to worry about what they say or think; show them that not everyone in the world is heartless and brutal. So... who knows, maybe once I’ve finished THIS degree... I’ll follow my dad into the world of social work and change things. I for one, would rather be safe than sorry, and take a child from a home by accident where it was unnecessary. After all, you can remove a cared-for child from a loving home and return them. You can’t save a child once it’s dead.

Wade Into The Deep End

I thought, since Halloween has just passed and all, that i should write a blog about fear and danger.

I suppose that fear is tied in with imagination. Most of what we fear, is an imagined entity, and most of the time, we have no true reason to fear it.

What exactly CAUSES fear? i mean, in this day and age, there isnt much left for us to be scared of, other than the lengths of human psychosis. And of course, psychotic individuals are something to be feared, but dont we have securiy to help us against it? It sort of goes back to imagination.. what we are capable of imagining.. Can it become a reality?

For instance. This new subgenre of horror movies that seems to have come into its own recently. Things such as Hostel or Saw are movies based entirely on the evils one mortal person can commit, and they are truly horrifying, and they dont leave your mind alone even for a second. Even in the absence of a killer or a cut, these scenes are set in dark, dingy places full of germs that we know instinctively we should avoid, and yet we cant. But what is more horrifying, other than the fact that these things are possible, is that its possible for a human being, like-minded enough to be the same species, to break our views of normality and do what you could never bring yourself to. Is that scary because it means that one day, we could snap and do something similar? are we far away enough from the claws of media, and rage, and insanity, to never turn into that which we fear?

And then of course, there is the urban legends we are raised with. Ghosts, ghouls, zombies, vampires, werewolves, and all the things you'd rather not run into. These things are entities that we ourselves have created in our imaginations. So why do we fear them? why do children dare each other to say "bloody mary" into mirrors, and then spend their entire night avoiding anything reflective? Even sceptics, who scoff in your face when you quiver about your fear of the shadows, look over their shoulders now and then. But for what? Why do we all have this sense that something incredibly hostile and evil is just out of our peripheral vision and if we move but an inch, we'll be staring down the gullet of a monster sent from hell to devour us? is it a fear of the unknown? what we cant see? is that why many of us fear the dark? the possibility that one day our eyes may fail us, fatally?

Oh THIS is The Life...

Ive been back at university for a week now. I should be starting my second year but i basically drank away last year, so im resitting a slightly different course now. Same modules, different title. The bad and the good has happened already to me here, its all a bit up in the air.

The Good:

- I managed to get my course solved relatively easy

- My uni hours mean i have Friday off (score)

- i havent gained weight (i did last year. yes, in one week. bad times.)

- my room and house is amazing!

The Bad:

- i had to cancel plans with my parents because studentdigz (my letting agency) screwed things up

- my loan still hasnt come through

- the job i wanted all last year has been given to someone else

- i still need to pick a module on my course.

SO much can happen in a week, its unreal. Ive missed most of freshers week due to lack of finance, but oh well. Tooters tonight at least, i get VIP. two drinks, 2 pounds. last decent night out before ectures begin.

And i need to go and pick up a prescription. yay.

Home Sweet Home

Alright so, ive been home for about a week now, and i've done NOTHING. Nada. Its been so slow and yet, i feel like i've hardly had time to breathe or do anything. I'm trying not to get started on much because of the upheaval when i go back to Swansea, i just cant be bothered to have to start something, pause while i travel something miles (i don't know the actual distance between Hull and Swansea you see) and then pick it up again when i get there. apart from the fact it would be a total pain in the arse i'd probably get confused and have to start again anyway.

There is some red tape i have to start hacking at fairly soon though. God thats gonna be a laugh. I try not to visibly cringe every time i think of it but... Meh. I HATE paperwork (who doesn't?) and i'll be grateful when i dont ever have to do any. Ever again. Pft... i might just up on a plane to Peru and disappear into the Amazon. All the paperwork they ever have to deal with is nasty white men coming to take their trees. AND they get a decent tan. Although, really, i don't want to be sharing my bed with bird-eating spiders and pythons thatd happily swallow an alpaca. Hrm. Maybe the cities are better jungles for me.

I've finished the second book of the Twilight Saga, New Moon. I can't help myself, i get more obsessed with every single bloody word! I'm quite angry too, Stephenie Meyer (the author) had half of her new book leaked to the internet so shes not going to finish it. I have an overwhelming sad now because one person has ruined it for the gazillion fans she has to appease. I hope she relents a bit and decides to finish it because she is such a fantastic writer - then again, i really wouldn't blame her if she didn't. I'll maybe write a fanfic based on these books one day, if i'm feeling creative. Until then, i'm saving my pennies so i can buy the third book, Eclipse.

Until then, here is my favourite little paragraph of New Moon (SPOILER, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK).

"But how could you believe me? After all the thousand times I've told you, how could you let one word break your faith in me? "

I didn't answer. I was too shocked to form a rational response.

"I could see it in your eyes, that you honestly believed that i didn't want you any more. The most absurd, ridiculous concept - as if there were any way that i could exist without needing you!"

I was still frozen. His words were incomprehensible, because they were impossible. He shook my shoulder again, not hard, but enough that my teeth rattled a little.

"Bella," he sighed. "Really, what were you thinking!"
And so i started to cry. The tears welled up and then gushed miserably down my cheeks.

"I knew it," i sobbed. "i knew i was dreaming."

"You're impossible," he said, and he laughed once - a hard laugh, frustrated. "How can i put this so that you"ll believe me? You're not asleep, and you're not dead. I'm here, and i love you. i have always loved you, and i will always love you. I was thinking of you, seeing your face in my mind, every second that i was away. When i told you that i didn't want you, it was the very blackest kind of blasphemy."

(DISCLAIMER: Characters and story belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is an extract i have typed out by hand, it has not been lifted from any internet website. To read more... buy the book. ;D )

The Magic Of Words

Words. They are my passion. Which is very strange because i can barely think of the words to try and describe this feeling thats been coming over me recently.

As you all know i'm sinking into my own novel. To improve on my writing skills i have began reading books from a wide variety of authors and genres. And, unfortunately, i fell upon Stephenie Meyer's book, Twilight.

Oh no, i've done it again. I have this queer and unfortunate sense that kicks in when i find something i like. Instead of liking something like every normal person in the world i quickly become obsessed until i'm eating, sleeping, breathing, living whatever has taken my attention into a little, delusional world. My repertoire of little obsessions has counted Titanic, DBSK, Luis Royo art, among many other things.

So of course when i read Twilight i found that the book was so rich in feeling that, how could i NOT become obsessed with this book?  its... left me struggling to define it. Those of you who have read it will know my pain and possibly, what im trying to get at. Its a rare jewel, if you can find a book that sinks so much deeper than the words on the page. Yes, it may be cliche, and yes it may be seen as conventionally cheesy (a teen girl falling in love with a vampire is done and done again) but, the feelings described in this book are just so immensely powerful its hard not to crave that kind of compassion yourself. Edward is portrayed as, not only a ridiculously powerful being, but also a patient and loving person who has to deal with the pain of many things. His restraint is admirable. Stephenie has a way of placing comments and words in such a way that they have an incredible effect. 

It is my ambition, although our genres are very different, to write something as alluring and as addictive as this novel. My technique calls for imagination - if i cant see or hear it in my mind then it doesn't come out on paper very well. Which is why, when i found a mass of fanvids devoted on youtube to this book, i had to listen. and the music people have picked is not only perfect, its stirring, and would make a fantastic soundtrack to the movie due in January. (CANT WAIT) one such track is "the river flows in you" by Yiruma. Its been used as Edwards lullaby - although for the film, the actor Robert Pattinson is writing it himself. Nevertheless, its a beautiful piece of music, but its so sad at the same time. Music is a similar art to writing - there is meaning beyond the tune and the lyrics, and if you can hear your own emotions weaved into the music itself then its a highly successful piece. Music, and books, should not be judged on their quality (although some level of quality has to be maintained, obviously) but rather, on how they affect you personally. Thus, there shouldn't be critics.. your taste is your own.

Twilight is certainly my taste, no matter how cliche, corny or conventional. Its a piece of art that has captured my attention, and i have a feeling it will do so for a long time.

"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb..."

"what a stupid lamb."

"what a sick, masochistic lion."

Passports Please...

I will warn you all now, this post contains subjects of high philosophical thought and may cause headaches not unlike the one shown in the picture accompanying this post.

Settled? right, good. Im not sure how to really convey this, but my thoughts right now, if they had a visible form, look exactly like this storm of epic proportions. In fact... thats a good start.

In the beginning, there was man, and man was given an instinct to survive. with that developed a brain, and henceforth, an imagination. Now. Lets start with materialistic things. This isn't a question of whether something exists or not, but rather, HOW it exists.. for example. This keyboard I'm using to type. It exists. Why? Because i can feel it. i can see it. I can hear when i press it. 

But what about... the smell of perfume? you can see it in the bottle. You can see it when it first settles on your skin, but then... what? yes! the smell. 

Next... concepts. Lets take... anger. Why does it exist? We cant see it. We cant hear it. We can only see how it reflects upon people; their expression, their tone. Its not something that hangs in the air, per se. Its something that we sense, based on how it makes people act. 

What would happen, if we could not see, taste, smell, hear, feel something.. whether it be a material or a concept? Would that mean it doesn't exist? If we are oblivious to everything around us, does it exist at all? or is it our imagination that makes something real?

This is something i was discussing with a great guy named Ed (a diamond in a pit of granite if you ask me) and, based on what we both discussed, i have come to the conclusion that our imagination is the key to the existence of everything. Even things that have never existed materialistically are items of common knowledge worldwide - lets say, a dragon. They have never existed and yet even small children will describe the exact same concept as an elderly person on the other side of the world. How is this possible? how is it that something that has never existed materialistically, and yet is the description of a material being, exists? Yes, it does exist, because it is in our imagination.

Conscience gives birth to existence. 

That is all.

Say What?

Today, for me, has been a very strange day. Ive done a lot of thinking, particularly about languages and cultures. i like how language can change your way of thinking, and how some words we dont have can be filled in by other languages.

For example. That feeling you get when you dont really have stomach ache or head ache, but you generally feel shit all over? we dont have a word for it. Bad times.

NEVER FEAR! the french have a perfect word for this, and the word is malaise. Stemming from the word 'mal' which is 'bad'. 

I suppose this all comes from the fact that i find myself in slightly deeper water than at home. Wales is a bilingual country yes, but it isnt essential to learn Welsh. Here in Germany, its a little bit harder to get by unless you know some key words. Wasser, Bier, Cafe... :3

And also, ive spent the day listening to disney songs in a variation of different languages. The Japanese version of the Lion King classic be prepared actually sounds far more evil than the english version, its amazing! this got me thinking that not only is it words but tones and voices aretrained differently from country to country, tongues from other lands can twist themselves in ways ours cant, and our tongues have our own traits too. "th" is a sound that props up far less so in places like Germany. it just doesnt happen.

Meh. right now though, im kinda tired and the side of my face is hurtin. No idea why. *shrug*

Good night / Guten Nacht / Bon nuit / kalinichta / Buonos nottes / Buenos noches /

:)