Dreamer of Dreams

The world wide web that is... I have finally joined the MySpace revolution.
Despite having never before been a computer lover, in the space of just a month I have blogged, networked and messaged my way around the internet, and I have to say, it's really pretty darn good. Here's to the web!
To blogs, to new friends and to pointless and inaccurate information on Wikipaedia.

www.myspace.com/helena_rose_justice

Scanning through some blogs recently I found some ones that I felt had an incredibly pessimistic and narrow minded view of Britain today. I won’t name names. They probably know if I am referring to them because I left comments on their blogs already. 

One particularly unpleasant piece took the view that Britain is full of stereotypical Vicky Pollards, pointing the finger at chain smoking TV addicted layabouts for the decline of Britain. Whilst I feel that it is a shame that some people indeed spend much of their lives without opening their eyes to the world around them, this does not make them bad people. I have met many who would fall into the blogger’s classifications, and yet they are kind, funny and generous, if a little rough around the edges. So what if the highlight of their week is playing bingo and watching the X Factor? Who are we to say that they do not lead valuable lives? 

I would say that these views are informed only by class prejudice and snobbery, sneering at those less educated, less cultured and less proactive. It is mean and judgmental and we have no right to generalize about people in such a way. Focus on your own faults and allow others to do the same.

I know this is hardly recent, but I think Anthony Gormley’s artwork “Another Place” is truly wonderful. The cast iron figures staring wistfully out to sea from a beach on Merseyside are strongly reminiscent of the Maoi of Easter Island.  

They gaze out to an endless ocean, not looking inland, thus reminding us that there is more out there than our own chaotic little lives. They represent the part in all of us that yearns for freedom and for release, the part that is searching for something more from the world, for “Another Place.”  

And yet they remain, motionless, unmoving. Ever searching, ever still.

It was gut wrenching to read about Ben Vodden in the papers today. He hanged himself last year because of bullying. He was only 11 years old. 

Children can be so cruel. There are those that single out the kids who look different, speak funny, wear the wrong trainers, or are good at maths. There are those that use physical violence, and there are those, like the ones who bullied Ben, that prefer to pick, taunt and tease until the victim’s self esteem is completely worn away.  

My heart goes out to them; the lone boy sitting on the bus wishing he was invisible so the jeers behind his back would cease; the girl who gets spat on and is too afraid of recrimination even to acknowledge the fat wedge of chewing gum nestling in her hair; the kids who have no friends and wonder around like lost souls, sporadically used as moving targets by the boys playing football. I wish I could do something to make it better, like I wish it could have been a little better for me.  

It is too late for Ben, but I hope that his suicide will shock some of these bullies into realizing what they do, and what the consequences can be.  

From one lost soul to another: Goodbye Ben. I hope you have found happiness.

Dear Guardian

 
Faithfully I pick you up every morning, and enjoy the time I spend in your company. I am happy to spend money on you, because I have always felt that you were worth it. But I was disappointed with you today. I feel you let me down.

 On your front page you led with a story about Russian diplomacy. The mass killings in Iraq were amalgamated into another story on the third page- “In Baghdad, Carnage Continues.”

 Is that it? Is that what 200 lives are worth? One measly page and an unimaginative headline?

 The Indy led with that story. So did the Metro. You, Guardian, you picked Cold War over Hot War, diplomacy over deaths. You let me down. And, you let yourself down.

I love my new job- it’s worthy, fun and interesting. But for some reason, working for a gay rights charity automatically means I must be gay. On singing the praises of my workplace to my mother, her thoughts lay not with the pension plan or the salary. Instead she anxiously queried: “You’re not going to become a lesbian are you?”

 
My partner’s family, my friend’s parents and other acquaintances all have similar questions regarding my sexuality, simply because of the career choice I have made.

What I think this demonstrates is ignorance along the same lines as the idea that a man cannot work for a feminist organisation, or a white person cannot be against racism. It also shows that gay rights is still viewed as a niche issue, only cared about by certain ‘types’ of people, and lost against more high profile equality campaigns.

 
I would like to think that the job I do is much more important, and far more interesting, than my sexual orientation. 

Something for those who have hit rock bottom:

"It is only when things are at their darkest, that we can truly see the stars."

Front page news today was of course the campus shootings in America. This was indeed a terrible event- at least 30 people were killed- a death toll which has already earned the incident reams of news stories and analysis, and a place in America’s history of mass shootings.  And what of Iraq yesterday? The list of casualties topped 60- according to www.icasualties.org, which keeps track of the reported deaths by news agencies. Inevitably of course, the death toll day by day is much higher than reported. Yet deaths in Iraq are now the NIBs (news in briefs) scattered throughout the media. They are no longer occurrences of note for us here in the west, instead, they are filler material for the lesser read pages of the lesser read newspapers.  

We will soon know everything there is to know about the casualties of the American shootings- their faces, their names, their ages- all soon to be commemorated on a tasteful memorial no doubt. The Iraqi’s who die daily will remain faceless, anonymous and forgotten.

I hate to put a dampener on this gloriously hot sunny day, but my inner killjoy has spoken and desires to be heard.
If this unseasonable warmth continues into summer, we face the prospect of yet more drought warnings and hose pipe bans. We just cannot ignore the fact that groundwater supplies are already depleted and the solution for London does not lie in simply building a desalinization plant, as Thames Water has proposed.
Whilst the hosepipe ban has been lifted we must take more responsibility for personal water usage, for example, by turning the tap off when cleaning our teeth. And Thames Water should use more of their million pound profits to fix as many underground water pipes as possible. They simply are not working fast enough and last year 894 MILLION LITRES OF WATER A DAY were lost through leaking pipes.  The forecast for the future- sunny and very, very dry.

Why oh why do I like Any Dream Will Do so much? It was the third installment last night on BBC One and I sat riveted through the whole cheese fest, practically shrieking with delight.  
The emotion! The Music! The terrible dancing! All my instincts say “look away now” but my heart cries out for more. I was uninterested in the problem of Maria, and the new Grease searchathon is like sugar coated crap, but the quest for Joseph has me singing along emotionally, (and badly) much to the chagrin of my lovely boyfriend, who I actually think would make quite a dashing Joseph.

 I can’t quite put my finger on it, but come next Saturday, BBC One will be my channel of choice for the evening.