Mmm...

Best week I can remember in a long time.

Driving home for non-denominational, politically-correct religiously or secularly themed holiday season.

Happy things. Back in the new year.

Token.

So because I'll probably disappear for a few days (or more) over the Christmas period, I will wish you all a fabulous holiday as of today. I know that I have buckets of alcohol waiting for me, and a heap of presents I probably don't deserve. It's been a hell of a long year, and I can imagine the next week will be no different -- but here's to a great holiday regardless. Whether you're celebrating Hanukkah, Kwanza, or just regular Christian/Pagan Christmas, I wish you a happy holiday and I will see you on the flipside of this here happiness. I shall return before the new year, though probably just with a post entitled 'Token 2'.

Good holidays, one and all.

Incidentally, earlier today someone accused me of being "sesquipedalian"; fortunately I was a match for such an accusation, and my floccinaucinihilipilification of his rejoinder left him speechless.

Consider that your Christmas present.

Just out of interest...

... and I'm not expecting a huge response to this, but I was just wondering if anyone (if there is anyone) who reads this has considered/is an organ donor? Or a blood donor? Just for my own curiosity.

Let it snow.

Thursday last week it started to snow. Not a major event in and of itself. Several hours later, in the early hours of Friday morning, it was still snowing. This was developing into a distinctly boring situation. Friday morning - proper - it was still snowing; and we had around 4 inches of snow. To the idiot, that's 10 or so cm's, .10 of a metre, and this may sound as though it's not a lot. Well, it's not. It's not a lot of snow at all, in the grand scheme of things. But, alas, you seem to have become inveigled by my subtly woven tapestry of delights: you have forgotten that I live in the United Kingdom and 4 inches of snow is tantamount to the end of the world as we know it. Batten down the hatches, do a war shop, sequester the kids in the basement, lock the doors, say fond farewells to relatives, and kiss your ass goodbye. It's unbelievable, simply unbelievable. The country grinds to an absolute halt. About an hour after the snow started falling the buses were cancelled throughout my home town, and an hour later there were no trains. The only sign of life left in this blanket of white was the lone pedestrian ambling gaily up the road. Cavorting joyfully in the flecks of ebullience.

It seems like a ridiculous concept to anyone who lives in a country that often gets snow. That we would genuinely become static at the first sprinkling of ethereal dust, but we do. Public services stop, people don't even bother trying to go to the office, they forget they have legs. It's all "oh well there's no taxis" and "the car won't start". Well, here's a radical solution: car pool, walk, hike, take a fucking submarine. At least pretend like you care. If you hate your job enough to take any half-possible-day-off as an excuse to lounge around in your motheaten underwear, well then you should probably quit because the country is better off without you infesting our already buggered infrastructure. Go on, piss off, you lazy curd. I almost said Turk there, that would've been a faux-pas. Anyway, this is how it has run each and every year recently. It provides ample opportunity for people to bang on and on about climate change, and things we should be doing, and how their house is the worst affected. Go preach to a choir of deaf people, because none of us give a shit. The only time you don't use your car is when it snows and you can't use your car because you used your car too much! I should print that up on a Christmas card and canvas the neighbourhood with a self-satisfied grin on my face. I could even wear my hilariously faggy boots.

I used to work in a supermarket - imagine how good my customer service was! - and every time the weather took even a tiny turn for the worse, people would flock in in their droves to buy up the entire shop. Preserves would be ravaged fourteen seconds after the first clap of thunder is heard. People buy up shelves of eggs, as if they are to be trapped in their houses for weeks on end. The staff and I called these trips "war shops", because that is what they were: it was as if we were going to war. And not just any war, some kind of magical fantastical war which meant that people automatically lost the power of motion and thus were incapacitated and snared within their own materialism. It was utterly unbelievable the lengths that people would go to to avoid some kind of self-invented downfall they were foretelling. Hilarious, but really, really worrying. It's the same kind of person who goes shopping on Boxing Day and starts buying a regular week's worth of food: what are you doing? Why are you doing this? Do you genuinely have nothing better to do than this? Look at you. Go away. Get out of this shop. Get out of this city. Fuck off. I just don't understand the thought process of this kind of person: to what end do they think some climate change might bring? It's not the harbinger of the apocalypse: it's snow. Tiny little flecks of powdery water, frozen in the sky, and falling lustrously to the earth; the subtle interplay between the stark night sky and the luminescence of pure white; the deadly dance for the wayward footstep, and the friend of children worldwide. It won't kill you. I promise. What will kill you is your own stupidity. Bouncing out your front door of a morning and slipping down the steps could kill you -- but frankly you deserve to die, because bouncing is a verb that should never be used to describe someone's gait. Taking a corner at the speed you usually would might cause you to spin off and be killed -- but again, I'd have no sympathy for you: have you never stepped into a bath and slipped a little? Imagine that, but instead of the bath it's the world, and you weigh two tonnes. Cretin.

What else do people do? Oh yes, they dress as if they're going to have to the spend the next four weeks hunkered in some undersea cave, sleeping underneath a pile of frost-encrusted foliage. People, seriously, it's Britain: the temperature - even with 'windchill' (a concept only invented recently) - never drops below around -5'C (that's 23F). That isn't that cold. You could survive for quite a good long while wearing nothing but your birthday suit. You haven't been plunged head-first into a lake of frozen water, it's just a bit of a nip. It's not "perishing", nor is it "the coldest anyone has ever been". If you continue to do this, I will make you the 'deadest anyone has ever been', then you can see what it's like to really perish. We need to get some perspective here people: a t-shirt, jumper, and jacket, gloves, and a scarf will do you perfectly well in any part of England (perhaps not Scotland). You don't need to put layer after layer on until you look like some kind of downs-syndrome marshmallow man. Nor do you need to dress your babies up to the hilt until it looks like they're entering into a cotton field of combat. I promise you no one is going to come out with darning equipment and try to unravel your baby's clothing. That'd be the weirdest, least successful attempt at paedophilia ever.

Another thing: if you're driving - go away. I hate you. Leave me alone. You try walking on the pavement. A pavement which has been replaced entirely with a sheet of ice. Someone was bringing their shopping in to their house earlier, and I was watching - as you do, - and I found it hilarious to watch them stumbling and slipping and sliding all over the place. I thought they were making a big deal of things to be honest. It didn't look as though carrying and walking should prove to be so much of an issue. About an hour later I needed to walk up the road to the shops, to buy fourteen-coops'-worth of eggs. And when I say I needed to walk "up the road", I mean "up the road". Normally I'd harangue and belittle a person who said that, until they rescinded their stupid statement and made good on their language. Not today though; I had been beguiled by the deceptive minx that is the pavement. Lulled into a false sense of my own walking -prowess, I stepped out with a spring in my step, and a bounce (ha) in my legs. I slipped. Based on normal winter sentiments: I almost died. I decided that I needed to instead walk up the road. This was fine, you would think. The pavements were clearly impassable, whereas the road had been gritted and then driven on. Incidentally, our city has yet again run out of 'grit'. Walking up the road, without my headphones, people were honking their horns at me! I was like... come on now, you try driving along the sky or something. That's how hard it was to walk up the pavement. I didn't really feel as though this was a justified reaction to my walking. My poor booted feet!

So that's it. Fuck off, snow.

You can't have my eyes! I might need them... sometime.

So last night, as I crested the dizzying heights of Lemsip based inebriation, I decided to take a quick browse of the top headlines, before ambling up to bed, and I read a 'Have your say' debate on the ethics (allegedly) of organ donation. The two sides were demarcated fairly simply by two inherently polemical axis: theistic propriety of befouling a corpse before it ascends to heaven, and atheistic indifference as to what happens -- as there is nothing after death. There were, naturally, further divisions, but I feel only amateurishly qualified to speak about those, so I will just lay them out briefly for all the world to see. The expounded ideals revolved further around whether or not your body can belong to the state -- an obligatory 'opt-out' programme where everyone is automatically an organ donor, unless they 'opt-out' -- and whether or not full donation is for everyone -- or if some people would like to keep their eyes, for instance -- and finally, whether or not someone who is an organ donor should take precedence over non-donors if the need arises for them to receive an organ. Obviously, this is an ideological, moral, and ethical minefield: some people see the act of donation as nothing short of blasphemous desecration; whilst some people see it as a duty, and something worth doing whatever the ramifications.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be an organ donor, and - as with my plans to emigrate - I've no real reason as to why I've always wanted to be such, I just have. I've always felt that it was right: that when I no longer need my organs, someone else should benefit, and perhaps extend their life, for however short a period. Obviously, as with my characteristic idealism, I can fairly happily ignore all of the ethical implications my wanton myopia suggests; it is not until I get down to the nitty-gritty that I realise there is fair debates on either side. This is unlikely to ever sway me, because emotion will always oust logic, even when the latter is so patently obvious. This, however, alludes to the main issue which arises when debating the ethics of organ donation: separation of emotion and rationalisation. The two are, evidently, inextricably linked, but the two also are not compatible in terms of logical and profitable discourse. It is up to the individual to decide which path they would like to take: the epistemological rationalist who views the act of donation as supererogatory, and thus inherently decent, but not morally obligatory; or the emotionalist who would either deem it a duty - axiomatically disparate from supererogation in the fact that not doing it would be morally wrong - or would feel duty-bound to not donate.

As you can see, it's an absolute minefield of horrible language, and ludicrously complex concepts -- but that's ethics for you. For the uninitiated, or the uninterested, it boils down to whether you think with your heart, or with your head. The head can lead you two ways: what is good, and what is right; and the heart can lead you two ways: what is dutiful to your own autonomy, and what is dutiful to a super-being.

As with pro-choice/pro-life arguments around abortion, the idea of autonomy is a crucial one: the idea revolving around the idea that anything you want to do with your body is your decision, and your decision alone. The question in relation to state intervention needs slight tweaking: do ideas of autonomous individualism supersede state ideals? As a blanket idea of course autonomy trumps state intervention, but when applied directly to the question of organ donation you can see wherein the difficulty lies. One underpinning principle of democratic governance is that the state will do all in its power to ensure the health and ongoing security of the population en masse, and this would self-evidently lead on to assuming an 'opt-out' programme was for the greater good. The counter, naturally, is that the main sanctifier of one's security and safety is the preservation of one's autonomy: a more laissez-faire attitude to ideology, which imbibes all crucial decisions to the individual. So what do you think? Does autonomy trump the need for the maintaining of population and the health of the populace as a whole? Or does 'machine' obligation necessitate the opting-in to the programme? Are we individiuals working within a state, or groups working as individuals? As you will know, I am a firm believer in individualism, and thus it follows that I should be a devout and blind propagator of autonomy. I believe that one's ultimate control supersedes the rights of the newborn child, for instance, and that's why I am pro-choice.

The problem here comes because intervention does not necessarily automatically displace autonomy of self: an 'opt-out' programme intervenes with the mechanisms of the process, but does not demand a different opinion, ideology, or action. The idea is fallacy that one should opt-in if they believe it is right, but that to opt-out if they believe it is wrong would be an indiscretion. It seems discordant as the ideas are fairly interchangeable: impetus is still solely on the individual, it is just role-reversal. Obviously, because A equals B, does not necessarily mean that B equals A, but in this instance I think we can assume the similarity between the two systems. No, the objection lies because they see state intervention as the first-step to a utilitarian government; one based around autocracy of a select group of democratically elected people. At least, this is what I think the objection revolves around. It was hard to disentangle the why from the what, because when you throw emotion in, the two become intertwined and hard to extricate. The counter to this idea of utilitarianism could be called egoism (the idea that the self is of greatest importance), but perhaps should focus more crucially around the locus of slippery-slope fallacy. This dictates that one action that may lead to an end result is not necessarily going to lead there; in this circumstance: that just because the government would be taking a greater control of individualistic rights, does not mean you will end up with unilateral forms of government where groups are always put before individuals. This is the main recourse for the rationally uninitiated, the emotion surges through you, and you assume that "Oh, once we let them do this, soon we'll be under complete government control. Having to pay homage to them as their propaganda spews out of sound-systems." Yes, well, it's not 1984; and there are ways and means with which you could prevent this fallout. Not that you'd need to, because the idea that this intervention necessitates total governmental autonomy is frankly ludicrous.

You just have to think about whether or not an action for the self is always the right action, or whether an action for the group is always the right action. A balance can be struck, but in this situation, the two are inseparable. As the boring, infantile argument against happiness goes: "If everyone just lived for themselves, the world would be selfish, and would end." Well, no, because evidently one's happiness is most often sought in the happiness of others: you make yourself happy by being in a loving relationship and making the other person happy. So profligate individualism can work, in theory, but it depends on however zealously it is applied. As far as I am concerned, ideas of the self are normally the most important, and ideas that the 'group' is a separate concept are incorrect. By opting-in, by trying to help someone else, I am made happy: it is my own decision, for my own happiness; it is a latently selfish action, masked wonderfully by its supposed altruism, but it is one which benefits the group. You cannot take a 'group' stance which benefits the individual in this way, but you can take the reverse.

Let's take a short break, and have a recap:

1. Rationalisation vs. emotion. Ideas that we are duty bound to opt-in, or opt-out, of this mechanism.

2. Autonomy of self vs. governmental utilitarianism. Ideas that the greater good supersedes the self.

3. Utilitarianism starts a process which ends with utilitarianism. Debunked by the ideas of 'slippery-slope' fallacy. One does not always beget the other.

I don't want to force my stupid opinion on anyone who might be reading this, so hopefully you can see past the... fairly low levels of subjectivity (I did my best) and make your own decisions as to whether or not one's autonomy is the most or least important thing at work here. Now we've covered ideas of opt-in and opt-out, I will move on to ideas of priority, and how logic dictates emotionless decisions.

The Israeli government has introduced a policy which encourages people to become organ donors by giving them priority - and a legal right - over those who aren't registered on the organ donation list. This is also known as 'preferred status'. It is, however, important to contextualise this decision, before we just discount it as ignorant of individuals' needs. In the UK one-in-four people are registered as organ donors, in Israel the number remains alarmingly low, at one-in-ten. It would seem that something needed to be done in order to meet the demands of a country so desperately in need of it. Just quickly before reviewing whether or not I agree with this idea, I will outline the three other choices that places have:

1. Mandated Choice. This basically just involves directly asking people whether or not they want to be an organ donor (when they register a driving license, for instance). This differs from what the UK has, for example, where the question is never asked, and the impetus is solely on the individual to seek out how to register. You could call this Optional Choice I suppose, though that would seem tautological. This apparently increases the amount of numbers, and would seem logical as I can imagine quite a lot of the windfall is from two factors: i) that people forget to become one, and ii) that people are unaware how to become one. Seems only logical.

2. Presumed Consent. This is the idea that you have to opt-out instead of opting-in to the organ donation list. If you do not opt-out, it is taken as a given that you are happy for your organs to be posthumously removed for other people. Differs from preferred status because this does not guarantee a priority if the need arises.

3. Required Request. This is at work in quite a few places, as far as I am aware. This basically just involves the medical professional obtaining permission for organ removal from the deceased's family.

I) Issues arise with 'mandated choice' because numbers are not actually increased as highly as they should be. One question box with no information isn't enough to give people enough impetus to check it.

II) Seems the most viable, because countries which have adopted it have seen "adequate numbers" of donations to need (thanks to socialissues.wiseto.com). It would be fallacy to assume that this is infallible, though, because evidently numbers fluctuate: smaller populations may have a greater need, or a lesser, and so on and so forth.

III) The main issue that arises here is that familial relationships do not necessarily denote identical ideologies. A lot of times children are the products of their parentage, but it is not always. This can be applied to all relationships here: parent/child, child/parent, wife/husband, uncle/brother, etc.. What the 'alive' party wants may not be the same as the deceased: although obviously the deceased should make known what it is that they want done, this is not always going to be the case.

So there we are: different solutions and their respective problems. So Israel has gone for preferred status - which would seem an almost inevitable decision given their low numbers. This, however, may be suitable for them (although it does greatly increase governmental intervention), but according to lots of British people, it wouldn't be good here. It's not yet known how it is going to fall out in Israel, but I know it would go atrociously in Britain - whatever freedoms and lives it aspires to save. The main argument here seems to be 'rights vs. responsibilities' which I have covered briefly above (duty, etc.). The argument revolving around the fact that a person's responsibilities outweigh their rights. I would agree, suggesting that their rights are only sanctified by the responsibilities of others. The protection of rights is only because of the unerring responsibilities of the community at large. So, you can't really argue against that as far as I am concerned. It all acts analogously to the debate I spoke about earlier, however, and so I don't feel obliged to go into this too deeply.

As I have mentioned, the first issue is that people see it as 'right' or 'responsibility'. Not wanting to stray too far away from these thought processes, but there is an argument to be made that the two are synonymous in this context: that it is your inherent right to have societal responsibilities. It's a complex idea, but works concurrently with the idea that rights are only enabled and maintained by responsibility. Anyway, I won't go down there, because there's not a lot else to say -- you can decide. The second issue, apparently, is that of the 'state intervention': I've covered this at length, and won't go further into it. The third - and perhaps most pertinent - issue is that people against this idea of prioritising say "I am still a human and as such have the same rights as everyone else." Evidently, this has huge implications for all sorts of arguments: the death penalty, euthanasia, etc., and it is important to briefly look at these to see where this viewpoint is flawed. If we are all guaranteed a right to life - and thus in turn a right to autonomy - then evidently the death penalty is inherently wrong, as it goes against innate 'rights' (as dictated by what? Does this view preclude atheism?) This, however, is discordant when applied to the idea of euthanasia: the idea that rights are human, not individual, suggests that euthanasia should remain illegal, as a person does not have total control over what they do with their body; they are rather guided by universal, human obligations. Unfortunately, these two scenarios play out why 'natural' human rights are not guaranteed irrespective of life. Whilst freedoms are guaranteed and enshrined by different bodies, and by innate societal traits, they are repeatedly taken away by the state. You cannot use this argument solely for this idea because you do not apply it to other situations where it is necessary to argue along the same ideological lines. The issues are utterly inseparable, and thus you cannot cherry pick when you use it.

The other counter to this idea is that "it's mine, I'll do what I want, I want the same as everyone else" is a selfish idea. Well, as per definition, it is selfish. It is not necessarily 'selfish' in action, however: it is only natural to want the same rights as everyone else, regardless of their or your actions and behaviours. We cannot brand this view as selfish in practice, simply because it is born from enshrined human ideals -- not objectively ratified truths. People who argue against this view suggest that all people have the right to choose whether or not to donate an organ, but that choosing not to precludes the possibility of ever receiving one. This centres around the idea that because no one has a 'right' to an organ, it is only logical that those willing to donate will receive. Seems sort of fair, bit emotional mind. This is it though: the idea is contentious because horrible decisions have to be made every day. People's lives will be lost, and logic has to work as the main factor in the decision. That is why smokers die, and alcoholics, and fatties. That's how it works, unfortunately.

It is plain silly to suggest this idea of prioritising is "Draconian", because conceptually you are flawed. The arguments against the opt-out prioritising are almost self-defeating both in the language they use, and the ideals they propagate.

I will, just before I finish, lay one issue at the feet of the 'pro-opters'. There is quite often a split when the people harp on about "Oh yes I'm an organ donor" but then go on to say "but no one can have my eyes". It seems foolish to make a commitment, and then utterly undermine it: why bother? You've already precluded theistic ideals of the after-life - as it is a sin to desecrate the body - and so why would you need to retain certain parts of you? Evidently it is a difficult concept to engage with because it's 'horrifying' to think of your corpse without eyes. I never really got it, but ok, go with that half-gesture. It seems self-defeating and self-undermining, but I guess some organ donation is better than none. It's good to do what you can, and to view it as not just your responsibility, but your right.

After all, you can always get cremated.

Life and death.

Remind me to talk about the ethics of organ donation.

Safe mode.

So what I want to discuss is labelling for idiots, and why it's idiotic and pointless. I'm not talking "99p for three" labelling here -- no, nor am I blabbing on about sexuality (which makes a nice change!) or anything in that mould (tee-hee). Nae lad, I want to wax lyrical about things like "safe mode" and "dangerous conditions" - the axiomatic signifiers used regularly throughout our society. Let's just flick through a couple of scenarios, and I shall briefly outline why the things irritate me so greatly.

1. Safe mode - for computers.

A great idea in and of itself, I'm sure, and a lovely little chintzy name. If you're unsure as to what it is, it's basically just the setting you bung your computer in if you fuck the shit out of it; it gives you limited accessibility and usability, but should prevent you from garnering any more nefarious attention. It prevents you from using things like the internet, or from accessing certain areas, etc.. That's all sublime, I'm sure, but it begs the question: why do you need to give such a patently obvious label to such a stupid idea? You only go in safe mode if you're retarded and have allowed yourself to be buggered over repeatedly by trojans and the like -- that or you're a technician. If the latter, you're fine. If you're stupid enough to end up in safe mode, then you're clearly not be trusted with anything -- you should carry a warning sticker "may cease breathing due to deficient neurological ability" -- and thus this, coupled with the fact that if you're that stupid you could probably damage yourself sitting very still on a marshmallow, makes me think the mode should be called "reasonably safe mode". After all, you never know what it is that you can do with enough idiocy -- and, as demonstrated by the very fact it exists, no setting on a computer can guarantee the safety or security of its usage. Self-defeating labelling for a breed of cretins. Fan-fucking-tastic. Also, this makes me laugh at the pre-emptive hilarity this in-built mode provides. Manufacturers are happy to bleat on and on about how their new system cannot be breached; how the security is infallible, and how the firewall and this and that file is impeccably designed and meticulously executed. And yet we still find ourselves with computers that have this mode built in -- yes, advertising should probably read:

"X new system: practical, simple, efficient; the other-worlds in your living room (no guarantee of use)."

Call me fastidious (please do, it does it for me) but I take umbrage with any system that has to include this safety caveat. This is, however, only when said system heralds itself as breakthrough technology, even for the simplest of minds: technology which is guaranteed for this many years, or that many hours; and technology which is inerrable in its infinite security provisos. If it proclaims itself as shit as it is -- fine by me. Not only that, and I don't know about your computer, but ours doesn't even let you know how to access safety mode. The irony when you have to search the internet - the shepherd of your downfall - to figure out how your system allows you to access safe mode; I mean, come on, come the fuck on; how the hell is that reasonable!? God damn if I could use an interrobang right now!?!? I just find it the height of hilarity that they give you this fucking mode that you really shouldn't have to use, and then make it harder to crack into than Langley. If such a circumstance emerges that you need to gain entry into safe mode; are you likely to have the wherewithal to figure it out? Chances are that your computer skills are so woeful as to necessitate a call to a tech support line, who will invariably inform you that you might as well just dump the bugger and get a laptop -- at least the new ones will just let you press F10.

2. Look out! There's adverse weather conditions.

Here's another 'warning' or 'sign' that makes me so very, very annoyed: "Dangerous conditions: only make necessary journeys." What? Why would I make unnecessary journeys? Surely that's nigh-on tautological!? Why would I plump for a method of transportation if it was wholly unneeded for me to do so? Surely the fact you're making a journey in and of itself produces the necessity? Surely the fact that you have consciously decided to go out means that on some level your journey is necessary? Or are you suggesting I'm going to be reckless and start randomly driving just for the hell of it 'cause there's a blanket of snow? Or perhaps you're suggesting I often poodle around in my car, just questing further and further afield until I find myself in need of the sign "next town 8 miles ahead". Great, how useful. So if you're assuming that I'm dumb enough to need a warning which implies I should take extra care when the roads are snowy, presumably I'm also going to need a warning the next time the sun is at its highest and flies into my eyes, square-on? Perhaps you should provide me on-the-ground, by-the-minute cautionary commentary the next time I intend to jump a drain: "When jumping drains, take extra care to use both legs." I mean come the hell on; if you require that kind of spoon-feeding, I genuinely think you're going to die anyway. As with the breathing sign for safe-mode users, presumably you need help wiping your ass? Here, have my laptop manual; Dell promised it'd never break down. Or did they? I didn't buy direct from them, mind, because it never turned up (but hey ho! I'd only been waiting 20-odd weeks).

The other element to this stupidity is that they see the need to reinforce why you need to take extra precautions: "Snow on the ground can make cornering hard, and increase the likelihood of icy conditions; you will find it harder to grip the road." Well, yeah, I mean, it's wet? That's... you know, that's what water does -- it's unlikely to improve the conditions is it? "There's a smattering of ground-frost tonight, but this should greatly increase the chance of you getting home in double-time." I know what things do, because, well, I understand how the world works. If I didn't, I'd probably be dead or something. "During thunder storms, do not shelter under trees" -- I know. Do you genuinely believe I could have survived twenty years on this planet without that knowledge? -- Good grief the man on the TV has the biggest nose --. Or those frankly preposterous warnings from the Met Office (or perhaps the AA - not associated, but inextricably linked, with 'Alcoholics Anonymous') that recommend you take provisions with you. For the love of all that is sentient, what are the chances you're going to need twenty litres of water: in case you get trapped with... what, someone who has magically found themselves stranded with you after just fleeing a desert? I mean, come on; don't you know anything -- water makes driving harder. Trust me. They told me.

3. Do not touch when boiling. Can cause burns.

Again, this simply beggars belief that people would need this warning. And it's so very obvious why things like kettles have to include this kind of stupidity, isn't it? Well, it is to me. As far as am I aware, it's because you sued the last time you picked a kettle up by its sides, not its handles, and it's because you had to go to hospital, and because you had third-degree burns, and because you had to pay your insurance company some excess to cover your mindless idiocy; and that poor kettle-manufacturing company had to shell out because you were stupid enough to grab a kettle. What you going to sue next, the sun? Fuck off. Get off my planet.

4. Not to be ingested.

For the christ of hell. I mean. What!? Although better than "not to be digested" (a laughable product of mistranslation) it still begs the question: can people not distinguish between what is food and what is not? If this warning went unheeded would people start chowing down on bits of wood, matchsticks, USB cables, charcoal, that awful 5p sweet which is meant to look like a hamburger and tastes like it was boiled in a vat of hate? There cannot be precedent necessitation in this scenario: you surely cannot be telling me someone accidentally once ate that silicon crap you get in new shoes!? Do you not know anything about how to function as people!? Sweet mother of pearl.

5. The following was a work of fiction.

Well. I mean. I know. It's a cartoon. It's a cartoon! I mean... I don't. I can't even explain this one. It just... I don't understand.

6. Windows Live Messenger.

Strike me down, Lord, please -- if sanctity can be sought; if you deign absolution upon my unworthy soul; cleans me, infinite acts of contrition will be yours, I promise. Why oh why does this need to be called "live"!? This implies too many things which I can't even begin to fathom out why they'd need to be dispelled:

A) There is an alternate programme which delivers messages arbitrarily, on a whim, or "unlive". I'm sorry, and I know I haven't searched, but I really doubt there's an instant-messaging client which propagates itself as the only provider of useless messaging?

B) Previous versions were confused as only delivering messages when they felt like it.

Let us face it, here, there is one major problem with the 'claim to live':

A) i) If it is delivered at all, it is delivered live. It would impossible to deliver an instant message 'unlive', simply because the act of delivery guarantees the fact that you are there, and you are receiving it at some point, and it is delivering it at some point -- live, in other words.

Absolutely farcical: what the hell was wrong with 'Windows messenger' or, as the good old days, 'MSN'?!?!? It also needs a fucking apostrophe. Possessive!

7. Dangerous driving could lead to accidents.

So could safe driving. So could getting in a car. So could writing this blog for any longer because I'm about to explode in a fit of inevitable hatred and self-loathing. Wait. Not self. You. You-loathing. World-loathing; ad infinitum. It reminds me too much of Ricky Gervais' question: "What kind of a society has to remind people not to rape?" It is precisely that. Then again, reading the news this week, you'd be forgiven for suggesting to Ed Balls that perhaps 'Why we shouldn't rape' lessons should become a compulsory element of childhood schooling. I also hate the use of "could", and what it implies: it should say "can" lead to accidents. The use of "could" opens this out to infinite interpretations (as I have demonstrated above), at least "can" implies just that the action in itself acts as a possible pre-cursor to a reaction -- that your action can have possible reactions. It isn't tied down with ambiguities like "could". I should design signage.

I'm only angry because it's all tautological, self-explanatory bilge. It's stupid.

I could go on. But I might rupture my whole face, and be forced to eat blended matchsticks delivered belatedly by a fatuous technician riding a lightning-storm and full of boiling water.

------

I actually am in one of those 'let's just keep writing' moods, so I'll probably be on auto-pilot from here on out: feel free to phase out, close the window, gaze longingly at the freedom of the outside, masturbate furiously - whatever gets you through really. These past six or so days have been so hella rubbish. I really hate being ill, and especially because if you're a man, and you get ill, it doesn't matter how genuinely crippled you are: you're pathetic, and a woman could cope better. There's all that awful flu advertising on the television at the moment (which I was forced to watch, from the confines on my (what felt like a death) bed. The premise is that for men, their remedy is to lie prostrate in their beds, bemoaning life, composing their last will and testament, and generally just lie around like a waste of space; meanwhile, the women -- who from some twisted karma-god -- are suffering from the same affliction, and yet are coping much more admirably. Whilst the man just lies around like a sack of crap, the woman continues to go to work (what kind of laughable gender-role-reversal is this!?) and look after the kids, whilst managing to maintain the household. Well, that can fuck off as far as I am concerned. As all my updates of the past week should so: I was literally close to death. I was fingering the burning doilies of the River of Styx. As I proclaimed loudly to anyone who would humour me, I "have [sic] man-flu: it's worse than AIDS." It was true. I was bedridden and almost dead. Woe betide me to stop moving for just a second, though. It's a bloody self-defeating circle of hatred: if you keep going, keep ploughing on through the routine, people will accuse you of never being ill in the first place; and if you dare take a few days off, they'll say you're just hamming it up. Gentlemen: when I have mastered the art of genetic manipulation, I shall call you, and I will dole out life's worst plagues -- then we can show the other gender that we're really ill!!! ;(!!!

I'm still hoovering in that awful 'almost better' stage, where you think that you're going to be fine to go out and jump around, but then you do, and then you feel worse again. So, it's more reading and more relaxing. The only good thing about the plague, I guess, was the fact that I got to re-read the whole Harry Potter 'heptalogy' (or septology, I'm not sure). That was fabulous. I didn't skive off work, either. Oh no, never fear, I am as far from errant as is possible to be. They call me the 'bad weather facilitator'; although that may be because my dad is a cloud.

Not sure what else I want to harp on about, to be honest, so I guess I'll wrap it up here. I'll go watch... dunno, nah, fuck it. I'll listen to music, and then I will watch a Futurama film. That's a rockin' post-illness-recovery-Friday night. Just how I like it. Serve warm, with lashings of hot water bottle.

Dénouement.

Well, we've arrived finally -- at the end of my harrowing journey through incapacitation; held at the teat and ministrations of my dearly beloved chemical solutions. I struggled through - never fear - I made it to work, and I did excellently, as expected. I didn't spend all my time ensconced in some hidey-hole, ruing the day infirmity laid me waste; neigh, dear friends, it will be a sad day for humanity when man-flu causes me to eschew my responsibilities: I had change to calculate, books to alphabetise, cataloguing on the internet! I was up to my neck in these difficulties, but I muddled through - and I arrive on the other side a glorious stallion of a man; like goblin-wrought steel I imbibe that which seeks to destroy me, before using it to destroy itself. I take your evil, Nature, and I absorb it, and then I laugh uproariously in your face! Ha-ha-ha! See! See!?

Nah, I'm still feeling a little shaky; all things considered, but now is not the time for folding under the crushing belligerence of debilitation! Never fear; all things considered I am coping rather admirably. In all honesty I have moaned quite a lot, and I have just kind of... sat around for like 4 days on the trot, but that's what happens when you're ill, isn't it? There's some rhyme like "Starve out a fever, eat out a cold" (which makes me giggle), and by jove I ate my cold out. I was positively feasting on my cold, shoving my mouth into the deepest recesses I could find; choking on the moistness I found up my nose. Yes, I performed cunnilingus on an ailment. Go me. That's like... metaphysical doctoring there: when they recommend leaches, I recommend some kind of weird oral-sex manoeuvre (I have never been able to spell this word right the first time - ever) and you will find yourself fixed! All better, you shall! Just as a sidenote: I don't recommend this to anyone under the age of 18, because you're too young to be trusted with transcending space, time, and reality! Leave the weird metareal traversing to us agéd (I felt it looked nicer) pros.

Just because I feel guilty for not having uploaded anything of even semi-merit (unless you're feeling particularly obsequious [and if you are, please feel free to fawn]) I will just talk very briefly about pointless grammar rules -- and why just because something is pointless, it doesn't mean we should ignore it. When I refer to 'pointless' grammar rules, I refer to things like tautology, hanging of prepositional(s), comma splicing, etc.. Stuff that has no real place in anything outside of formal academia. It's all well and good to know these things, study them, love them -- great -- but it's another thing to enforce them religiously, when, as I mention, they simply have no place in modern-day writing. It's merely elitist spooning of language, and I don't approve! No, Sir, I do not approve at all! Anyway, now that I've set the scene as well as I could (I don't think I'll be penning a masterpiece this afternoon) I will discuss why I brought this up.

Someone I know seems to think that just because we don't police the language highways, that anything professional they create simply doesn't have to bear relevance to any semblance of English. You can't just throw punctuation out of the window: you cannot make a presentation that simply does away with periods and colons: it makes absolutely no grammatical sense, and would get you laughed at. You don't have to get everything right -- because everyone gets stuff wrong, all the time -- but you have to at least look as though you're writing in English.

Also, bespoking is not a verb.

Sorry.

I'm. Still. Ill.

Ashfalash.

I'm still dying.

*Goes back to his Harry Potter and his quilt and Lemsip*.

Now that's what I call pathetic ;D.

In other news.

I have man-flu, and it's so bad that people are literally like,... dying from sympathy, or something. Honestly, whoever says this isn't the worst thing you can ever have, is... so wrong. This is 40x worse than plague, and 8x worse than HIV.

Honestly.

Hoorah!

So I got a 70 for my first piece of coursework (that's a first). So... read it.

EXTRACT 2: From Matthew Lewis, The Monk, Vol. III, Chpt. III

Key-concept term: Revolution

This essay is a close text analysis of Matthew Lewis’ The Monk; I will look at language, form, structure, tone, contextualised by the key-term ‘revolution’, but with subsidiary points from religion, enlightenment, convention, the enlightenment, and ‘horror’. These themes address the main points of the gothic genre, especially the gothic of this period.

Demonstrated by the extract is one of the prevailing thoughts of the late 18^th Century: fear of mob-rule and mob mentality. We see, from the book’s publication date – the same year as the ‘Fall of the Bastille’ – the fears that Lewis had about revolutionary activity: “This confusion increased with every moment” (Lewis, 2008, p. 355). The use of “every moment” suggests speed, allegorical of the French Revolution, and the way it took hold so rapidly. What Smith and Hughes argue is that this “celebration of the irrational” is a reaction to the revolution and the enlightenment; that the desire of the communal mentality overwhelms rationality, and although revolution in and of itself wasn’t inherently evil; it was poorly executed (Smith, & Hughes, 2003. p. 1). Whilst Lewis does convey this, it is not as a celebration; instead, Lewis takes a more admonitory tone, one of his protagonists Don Ramirez “refused to consent positively” (2008, p. 355). This is expounded upon further through the “multitude of voices”, almost autological of the ever-present confusion born from revolution (Lewis, 2008, p. 355).

Alongside this is that some of the extract seems to speak directly about the nature of the revolution: where the mob “exclaim[ed], that the Prioress [...] be given up to their fury” (Lewis, 2008, p. 355). The loss of individualisation within the group gives way to savagery and barbarity; the mob overpowers the generic figure of the nun and savagely beats her to death: a politicised religious revolution. We thus see that Lewis’ reaction to the revolution was not directly aimed at the forthcoming French revolution, but the institutionalisation of mentality in general: individualisation is paramount to a functioning society in which people are free to believe what they wish.

It is important to note, however, that although Lewis propagated the dangers of revolution, he was not necessarily pro-enlightenment: “In vain did Ramirez attempt to convey his Prisoner out of the Throng [...] oppressed by numbers” (2008, p. 355). Lewis’ libertin thought process “that Locke taught men [...] that toleration is the glory of civilized man” is juxtaposed against the “oppress[ion]” of the crowd, and the futile “attempt to convey” the prioress to safety (Nicolson, 1960, p. XIX) (2008, p. 355). Although Lewis does seem to want to draw elements from both the revolution and the enlightenment, his denouncement of institutionalisation is somewhat haphazardly conveyed. His crowd undergoes “[a] moment of phrenzy”, and the only individuals are oppressed to silence by the anger of the crowd (2008, p. 355).

Through the language and tone I interpreted Lewis’ anti-revolutionary, and anti-religious stance, “oppressed by numbers”, echoes Shelley’s “Ye are many, they are few”; a common theme of communal democracy instead of regimented oppression (Lewis, 2008, p. 355) (Shelley, 2010, p.13). The binary is presented through the fact that “the rioters heeded nothing but the gratification of their barbarous vengeance” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). Barbarity is a trait not normally associated with humanity: it is an animalised trait. This anthropomorphic imagery is a common trope within the libertin attitude, which was born from the naturalism of the Renaissance (Crocker, 1969, p. 8). Lewis is presenting the romantic gothic view that progress is achieved through naturalism, “determinism”, and “a secular morality”: not pure revolutionary overthrowing of regimented government, nor total individualism (Crocker, 1969, p. 8). He goes on to compound the prioress to death until she is “no more than a mass of flesh, unsightly, shapeless and disgusting”, highlighting the ever-present physicality in the gothic (Lewis, 2008, p. 356).

The most demonstrable moment of the extract comes when “[Lorenzo] threatened the mob with the vengeance of the Inquisition [...] Though regret for his Sister made him look upon the Prioress with abhorrence, Lorenzo could not help pitying a Woman in a situation so terrible” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). The threat is the idea of determinism, born from enlightenment; the “abhorrence” is the consistent thought of anti-religion, and the “pitying” is the secular morality. (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). Abhorrence indicates a deplorable situation, one which has no morality, no rationalism, and the repetition of vengeance shows how a revolutionary thought necessitates intervention by individual or institutional guidance and ruling. This morality – spread throughout the novel – is perhaps because Lewis left out the last few lines of the book. Originally there was a scene which read “Haughty lady, why shrunk you back when yon poor frail-one drew near”; whereas this “little tag of trite morality” is later omitted and instead the moral turpitude is more subtly interwoven into the main narrative (Summers, 1968, pp. 212-213).

So is Lewis reacting directly to revolutionary thought? Lester G. Crocker argues that instead it is a “combination of critical rationalism and recrudescent naturalism [...] [which] lead to the questioning of traditional beliefs and values” (1969, p. 4). We can see this clearly where “all representations were fruitless: The disturbance grew still more violent, and the Populace more exasperated” (Lewis, 2008, p. 355). Taken as analogous of prevalent thought, the representations become the “traditional beliefs”, the condemning of the exasperation of the populace is the “critical rationalism”, and the more violent disturbance the “recrudescent naturalism”. Lewis argues against revolution, and suggests that hierarchy and order is needed to maintain order within a society; however, the contemporary regimes and corrupt governments are unable to give this. Another way in which Lewis demonstrates these thoughts is through the form of the novel.

In terms of language and tone, the extract follows the Gothic tropes of barbarity, superstition and over-enthusiasm. The mobs, or revolutionary groups, are the barbarian force which become enamoured by their own emotion into murdering the prioress for an alleged crime, “they tore her one from another” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). It is stark imagery which adds to a grotesque scene, the enthusiasm of the crowd where “each new tormentor was more savage than the former” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). This is set against “the termination of her miserable existence”, where Lewis again employs language meant to evoke a sense of sympathy (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). The use of “termination” is also crucial – it alludes to a physical or allegorical reading of the prioress: that she analogises the church and the institution (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). Lewis approbates the corrupting power of institutionalisation by juxtaposing the horror of death against the pity it evokes.

The extract, and the plot as a whole, is a fairly strict denouncement of the bloodshed caused by the revolution and although positivity was on the decrease; Lewis slants his work against this thought too. His reaction is of a mediator, trying to represent both the advantages and disadvantages of political revolution. His message is made clear, whilst the individuals call for the prioress’ punishment to be left “to the Inquisition”, the crowd “demanded her being delivered” to them (Lewis, 2008, p. 355). The balance is lost, and irrational “vindictive fury” wins out (Lewis, 2008, p. 356).

I feel the death of the prioress demonstrates perfectly the futility of revolution. The piece of flint “aimed by some well-directing hand, struck her full upon the temple”; indicates the prioress’ relationship between religion and institution, and how she analogises both (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). This idea of futility is compounded upon when “She no longer felt their insults, the Rioters still exercised their impotent rage upon her lifeless body” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). With “impotent rage”, there is not only have the overt sexual connotations associated with the Gothic, but we have a sense that Lewis is saying mob-rule will not achieve the ends the society wants (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). They kill the prioress – the institution – but continue to revolt and rebel; they “ill-used it” and “trod upon it” (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). It seems that Lewis agrees that revolution needs to happen, but that compromise and mediation is necessary for the right outcome. The hyperbole employed shows how futile the “impotent rage” is, and how a revolution lacks moral guidance (Lewis, 2008, p. 356). The message is clouded by the multiple narrative structures – most prominently the embedded narratives – but the whole text can be taken as allegory of contemporary societal thought. The confusing layout, segues, and the non-sequitur plot act alongside a train of thought which called both for revolution, for naturalism, and for hierarchical guidance.

Lewis’ work was immensely popular – published multiple times – but it still received criticism from both institutional thinkers, and revolutionary ones. Coleridge denounced it as “blasphemous”, and Lewis was referred to as an “unhallowed sacriligest” (Summers, 1968, p.218). It seems, however, that with hindsight, as Montague Summers puts it, “[this] can only be ascribed to an excess of that fanatical exhibitionism which shatter-brained cranks love to stimulate and indulge” (1698, p. 218). Lewis’ work capitulated to his position in society – as a gentleman – but it also sought societal change.

The Monk is a critique of both the revolution, and the reactions to it. Lewis propagates a message of compromise, and individualisation with restraint; a return to the naturalistic thought first announced in the Age of Reason.

And this - for once - was an intentional mixing-up of the fonts. :)