We very politely gate crashed a psychology do, had free barbecue, some free pimms and met some nice people.

Next off, we went to the Shed, to play some pool with my house mates fancy lady. She has braces and is cute and dinky. I approve.

From the shed to sugar cubes, whcih was good fun for the first time ever.

Now, as anyone who has met me will tell you; I am so hip I have problems seeing past my pelvis. And I apply this coolness to everything. Especially chatting up women.

But a slight mis-calculation lead to my head butting a rather pretty estonian girl. Whoops.

However, I think that I did alright, and I’m going to seek her out again

On the other end of the success scale, my housemate failed at sex in general. Hilarity ensued. His fancy lady was all in bed with him, and then BAM. Waste of flesh and organs that boy I tell you.

Now I have vigerously huge hangover, so much so, that I have applied some very potent drugs to get rid of it. But now I can’t really function, so I’ve taken the day off from life in general.

Got to go to uni tomorrow *sigh* registration and what not. Joy. Especially since I have become divorced from my documents. Bah!

Oh wells.

At least something good has come of yesterdays escapade. I shall go to the ball fairygodmother!

I don’t even really have a bee in my bonnet about anything, which is a little sad, because I like to have a bit of a rant while I work out. Sadly all I can do is wax lyrical about the minutae of my life.

I’m going to head back into uni today, as I need to get my hook up with my councillor again, and so I can hand in some paper work. So that’s something to punctuate my day with.

Outside of that, there doesn’t seem to be much to be getting on with. I may stock up on tunes and go hit the library for a wee while, and kick the crap out of my dissertation plan. Thinking of which I need to go and see my dissertation tutor to get advice about the above.

I also need shoe laces. My new trainers seem to have come with the single worst set of laces known to man, that form untangleable knots at ever possible instant, which is deeply annoying.

The first of my flatmates arrives back tomorrow you see, so I will in fact have to rejoin the species.

I’m not happy about this.

But I suppose that if I want my life to follow the course I want it to, I will have to acheive something somewhere down the line.

I’m still pretty pumped about getting back to the grindstone. Well… Actually I’m pumped about getting out of lincoln and moving in with my long lost love, but to do that, I have to work hard at something.

It’ll be interesting to see if my new-felt maturity is actually a real thing, rather than just the product of drug abuse.

Still, I have the paperwork needed to change my options, which is good, and soon enough I can crack down like a crazyman on my academic work. Soon, my children, I’ll be rocking hard and kicking ass. Can I get a hell yeah?

No… No, I didn’t think it was likely.

Ah well.

In a strange way it feels like gary never left. In spirit he was always here. Like a warm, gallic jumper. Or maybe, it was the drugs again. Not hugely important.

I am beset on all sides by conflicting, limp wristed feelings. I will have to see what I can do about that. Either get more feelings about something, or loose feelings about something else.

Uneventful first half, but then the every single time the ball went to Ben ‘Fucking Awesome’ Roethlisberger after the half, BAM. It was beutiful to watch.

Then I fell drukenly asleep on my sofa for 18 hours. That was deeply uncomfortable, and I awoke with a blazingly evil headache.

So that’s me.

This time its happening over here, and that concerns me.

It’s worth noting that the muscians themselves aren’t too concerned. In fact the three groups of people most directly involved with actually making the music, including one group which is made up specifically of high visibility muscians, like chaps from radiohead and blur and even billy bragg.

So, the government, listening to the people who basically do nothing except own a CD distribution buisness, are deciding to do dangerous, unconstitutional things to try and curtail the activities of file sharers.

They are threatening to moniter the internet traffic of every single person in britain, and if people are downloading illegal things, to cut off their internet access.

Now it might just be me, but I was under the impression that, with no evidence, monitering the communications of any individual was illegal. Also, it might be worth poiting out that suspending the services of a household because of one persons activities will present a legal problem. I imagine that this approach has been suggested because it’s next to impossible to make actual prosecutions and convictions stick, and so they are going to try abitrary non custodial punishment. But the first person to challenge this even in the british courts will almost certainly destroy the legislation. They will muddle the issue, they will point out that the only evidence gathered against them was illegally obtained. They will argue that there is no definoitive way to proove who actually initaed downloads, and that as long as everyone hangs together, it’ll be overturned before you can say brussles.

Good luck Ofcom. A war with bored, poor people will end badly. At the very least they’ll work out how to do what they were doing before but without getting caught. At the worst… Expect to have your computer systems attacked and beaten into submission. Bored, poor nerds will win because they are better at what they are doing than you are.

That’s why.

Its a very simple answer. And if it needs to be asked then there is something very deeply wrong with our political system.

The united fascist movement of great britain (to give the BNP their unabbriged title) has gained support basically because there are some problems with immigration. A protest vote for the BNP seems fair enough if you’re a right wing, skin headed, wife beating closet homosexual with a beer belly.

But the idea that the BNP has gained any form of political legitimacy is laughable. No matter what you feel about them, they are extremely right wing. Not the same way the tories are right wing. Oh no. They have opinions on the kind of people that should be allowed to live in our country. White people ideally, and beyond that, white people who are ‘british’.

Now the second that your immigration policy stops being ‘robust and discriming’ and starts picking groups out of your society and removing them, you stop being legitimate. You start being evil.

There is no simpler way to put it.

Removing minority groups from your society for arbitary reasons about ‘british people getting jobs’ and ‘social security scroungers’ is WRONG.

In fact, it goes beyond that.

It is inhuman.

If you treat any subset of people as being less than any other, you have forfeited your right to ever form a government.

It’s the plain and simple truth. Democracy does not allow us to stop being human beings. It is not ‘mob rule’ or ‘we can do anything if its popular enough’.

So yes, the BNP should be barred from being given any undue publicity. It should be fought against with legitimate political activism, and it needs to be highlighted to all that they do not offer answer or change, their very presense diminishes our society. We should be beyond this by now.

I entirely understand why the whole ‘lockerby bomber being released’ thing is a big deal, both internationally as well as here.

Personally, I like that the scots have stuck a middle finger up to american foreign policy. Sorry USA, but we are NOT part of your country. Your government cannot tell us how to run our judicial system. We don’t think that keeping a man in prison to die in one of the most painful possible ways is how a civilised nation should behave. He’s going to die horribly no matter what. If we as a people can show a tiny amount of mercy in letting him die in his own country, what differance does it make?

Anyway, that’s not the point of this blog. The point of this blog is to dispute the logic in demanding reperation from Libya. I support Mr Brown’s decision that this was ‘a shit idea’ [paraphrased].

The libyans sold some cemtex to the IRA, which then blew up etc etc.

Now much as I can appreciate that the Libyan regime was involved somewhere down the line, I don’t think that they can be held responsible for what other people did with something they sold them.

At the very least, we need to open our eyes. One of this countires major exports is armaments. If we hold Libya responsible for what the IRA did with a little cemtex, the british government should be held responsible for EVERY SINGLE BULLET that it has ever sold to anyone ever. It doesn’t matter who or why or how it got into the hands of undesirable people. All that matters is we produced and sold it in the first place.

The arms buisness is one where people die as a direct result. If we are going to be a part of it, then we can’t start suing less discriminating budget versions of our own weapons show room, selling to people we don’t want.

When the entire western world labels your country as being hostile, terrorist run, evil or anything else that Libya has been called, is it that much of a suprise that they do things that we don’t like.

To sum up:
America: You Do Not Run The World. Your laws stop applying outside your own country. If you throw hissy fits whenever people in other countries do things you don’t like, you will doom yourselves to fight un-necesary wars until you all die out. If you can’t even accept friendly countries own sovreignty and judicial systems, why should anyone else have any respect for yours ?

Oh and by the way… If you continue to bitch about libyan reparations, then we may well start complaining about a certain Ollie North, former general and funder of the CONTRAs and the somewhat hostile Iranian regime, and now news anchor.

If you can’t even follow your own laws about arms trafficing in your own country… Oh I give up. If I need to explain you’ll never understand.

1. Change my modules so that I don’t have to take tv.
2. Flesh out and propperlly complete my dissertation plan.
3. Start shopping around for funding for my MA/PhD. Lecturers beware. I will be banging on doors.
4. Attend lectures and seminars at the appropriate times.
5. Hand stuff in miles early.
6. Keep the momentum going, and get a first.
Optional:
a) kick some ass for the linc
b) be helpful to foolish children who kept TV
c) brown nose
d) whathaveyou
e) be able to beat on essex’s doors.

Easy enough eh?

Well I suppose we shall see.

The times, they are very much pretty much exactly the same as they were. Damn you bob dylan.

I continue to feel a new maturity about myself. Spoilt only slightly by my eating a whole pack of oreos with a pint of milk.

But aside from that one lapse, I definitely am up there abraham lincoln and teddy ‘fucking’ roosevelt.

I continue to be enthused about the prospects of a doctoral education, and indeed the prospect of teaching or lecturing myself. I think that there’s something so… Engaging… About the prospect of working with young people, and kinda extruding knowledge out of fact…

Ok that sounds a bit chris morris. But still. it strikes me that I would really be fulfilled working in something like that. Something where every single day is different and challenges you in a different way.

I hope one day to wind up as deputy head in a nice, upper class, girls school. Maybe not till after my civil service career, but still. That’d be great.

That was all rather interesting. In the time since my last post, I have decided to take a PhD, move in with my ex-girlfriend for fairly nebulous reasons and in essence become a full time academic and puppy dog eyed follower of my former lover.

Strange eh?

Well, here’s how it all happened.

My father offers me the oppertunity to do a masters, and so being politically minded, I investigated the university of my friend and uncertain love interest, at Essex. Best place to do politics don’t you know.

I go in to ask a few questions and leave with the possibility in mind of getting a large scholorship and vegitating until I turn 30.

Then I get back to my friends house, and tell her. She then says that this sounds like a good idea and thinks she might do so aswell.

Then she says ‘come live with me’ to which I blurt out something to the effect of ‘SWEETRAPTORCHRISTYES’.

So there we go.

I will be spending the year drumming up a large sum of money to keep myself in leather elbow patches, claret and tiny little hankies, for dealing with my occasional bouts of melancoly.

Sounds good, no?