As dazzling as my brief soirée into serious, journalistic blogging was, I'm afraid the ride is over.

What with university beginning soon, and all sorts of events occurring in my normally quiet life, I've decided that politics should be left to the professionals, and that doesn't include a small golden-haired English fellow.

If you want to remain in contact, or if you (out of some masochistic desire) want to read my other blog, it is found here:
Shake Well Before Use

I'm sorry to be leaving this blog, you've been a great, and captive audience.

Cal.x

Debate

A 16 year old, Jesse Lange points out the hypocrisy of the conservative news reader. He does it with such calmness, despite being called a "pinhead" that it's impossible for him not to come off as the more mature, and level-headed member of the discussion.

Paris in the Springtime

It seems that maybe Paris hasn't got away with it after all, an L.A judge has ordered her back to court to decide whether or not she should spend the rest of her sentence in prison.


This bit really wound me up:
In a statement following her release, Hilton thanked the Sheriff's Department and jail personnel "for treating me fairly and professionally."
"I have learned a great deal from this ordeal and hope that others have learned from my mistakes," she said.

Three days is not an ordeal. Three days is a weekend break.

The Most Hated Family in America.

I recently had the misfortune to watch a daytime-tv programme which features the Phelps family, from Kansas. They represent the Westboro' Baptist Church which, having 71 members, is hardly a large institution.

I apologise if anybody sympathises with the family's viewpoint, but if so, you deserved to be called out. I welcome any debate.

That said however, they make up for their lack of size through the vitriolic and hate-filled rants about the rights of homosexuals, and also about the state of America today. The "church" owns the website "godhatesfags.com" and uses this slogan as their tagline; quoted Romans 9:13 as the source of this knowledge: "As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated."

Seems like a radical step up to "God hates fags."

Like somebody on the programme pointed out; why are they so obsessed with sex? The head of the church has decided that despite famine, wars and injustice throughout the world, they, who claim to be the only 71 going to heaven, as they are not "fag-enablers", will focus on a trivial part of the Bible.

The members claim we should "crack the Bible to see what it says", however they take the passages which suit them, and interpret them in the wildest way possible. Times change. The Bible is also full of passages that even some of the strictest Christians cannot abide by; and here are some examples:

"For every one that curseth his mother or father, he must surely be put to death" (Leviticus 20.9)

"Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you an holy day, a sabbatch of rest to the Lord. Whosoever doeth work therein shall be put to death." (Exodus 35.2)

There's more; Exodus goes through what we can and can't eat to be clean, and Leviticus states that any man who is "broken footed", or with "defect of sight", or a "dwarf" can not receive the bread of God. You're also forbidden to wear any garment made of two types of cloth.

Why is it that we take some parts of the Bible to be relevant to our lives, but others not? Is it simply that we are finding supreme support for our own prejudices?

I don't know. All I can say is that unpleasant people who take the Lord's name in vain, upset my liberal sensitivities.

Ch-ch-changes

I don't like to get too personal on here normally, but since it's the "Adventures of Cal", I thought I'd better become more adventurous.

Yesterday was my last school lesson ever, my exams start in two weeks, and depending on how I fare in them, it will determine whether university is my next step. If this is the case, I'm hoping to go to Lancaster; for all you non-brits (well, probably just the one) here's a map.

Also this summer, my dad's accepted a job on the remote Scottish island of Iona. You may not have heard of it, but the 5 -square mile isle is world famous as a religious spot, with half a million tourists each year. I'll be spending quite a bit of time up there this summer, helping with the move in. Despite Britain being such a small nation, when I begin my solitary journey home, it will take me on six different modes of transport: a car, two ferries, a bus, a train, a plane and a taxi.

For anybody scratching their head about Iona, here's another map. I'm feeling charitable today.

Oh, and for the rest of the time, I'll be spending my days in the south of England. I'm not going to point that one out, but it's just wear the cloud is, just south of London.

Fine. I'll put up a map.

What with all this moving around, I'm going to be able to write about some interesting places (stop yawning) and I'll put up some videos hopefully, of the emerald isle. Oh no, that's Ireland...well Iona's pretty nice too.

Have a picture, and don't say I never do anything for you..

CSI New York

I'm not sure how well this comes out on here, but I took this photo with my back to the WTC site. The blurring of the people walking, and the yellow cabs makes the couple in the centre even more striking. I just thought that at this place of sadness, there was still love.

And if it wasn't for the freakin' post in the way, it would be one of the best photo's I've taken.
Humph.

The Return of the Tribe

When I saw the outline for this Channel Five programme, I was a bit dubious. Donal MacIntyre, instead of visiting far-flung tribes, brings 6 members of the Insect tribe from Papua New Guinea (PNG) to visit London.

To begin with, I felt guilty for smiling at the antics of the 6 tribespeople; but then I realised that they know how amusing they are. Having looked after Donal for a period last year, they know exactly how ridiculous outsiders look on their home turf. Not only that, but the people of Swagap seem to have brilliant senses of humour.

The part I found most awe-inspiring was when the Swagap Six (an easy abbreviation, not to be confused with the Birmingham Six) visited London for the first time. Their reaction was childlike; not meant in a patronising way, but in the way that London looked so incredible to me when I was a child. They were blank slates, experiencing the objective beauty of St Pauls Cathedral.

Every statement they uttered had its own profound touch; describing the statues as more real than they.

While the programme (the first of a number, I believe) was inspiration for me, filling me with a new found appreciation for the landscape I take for granted, I couldn't help but feel sadness for the Wagap Six. To show a man who must hunt pigs for days to feed his family, a supermarket full of food, seems hardly fair.

But this was juxtaposed with the most fantastical bit: one of the tribesmen in St Jame's Park, attempting to catch a squirrel, in order to: "put it on my head. So I can dance with it". The cheeky grin that accompanied the statement just made my evening.

Victory for Sarkozy

I've been following the French elections fairly closely; after all, they're only 28 miles from our shores, and therefore it's always nice to know they're under the control of a sensible leader. (Since we're not.)

I'd always backed Segolene Royal (surprise, surprise, Cal's a liberal.) Nicolas Sarkozy, a hard-line conservative, gives me the creeps. He's been compared to Jean-Marie Le Pen, and for me, that's scary enough.


For me, his win (and my reservations) were summed up in his succinct statement of:

France has given me everything, and now it is my turn to give back to France what France has given me

(So I'm assuming thats..."everything"? Oh goody. I quite like the repetition of "France", it gives the impression he knows what country he's just taken control of.)

Jon Ronson...Ron Jonson. Think about it.

I just read an interesting piece in the Guardian's "Weekend" supplement. Jon Ronson described how he once insulted the McCartney family, prompting an unfortunate reprisal from Linda:
"If I hear that Paul McCartney Frog Chorus song coming out of a Tannoy one more time, I'm going to open fire. Mark Chapman truly shot the wrong Beatle."

It was written 16 years ago, and makes a valuable point: cruelty in writing.
Later in the article, Ronson mentions his recent problem with blogger-popularity; it seems they hate him.

Writers find it so much easier to be vicious and hurtful when they suspect that nobody is reading; and when it turns out that unexpected people do read: "I looked at my webstats..and found a visitor from ronson.*****.co.uk Immediately I felt like I'd been caught doing something naughty."
(http://blog.lawgrain.co.uk/WordPress/)

Bloggers have a responsibility to give people a fair hearing; it's not on to abuse a personality in the public domain. Just because your user-name is so obscure that only the Police could track you down, this doesn't give the right to abuse those who think differently to you. That said, it only REALLY matters, if somebody's reading. If not, there's nobody to offend, and no damage can be done.

For that reason, here is a list of people I do not like: (hypocritical? me?)
Sir Alan Sugar. (Who actually buys Amstrad phones anyway? Do I WANT to check my emails on my phone? No.)
The Murdoch Family.
David Cameron (Please refer to the "spork" article)

Oh....and Hugh Hefner.

I can't vouch for Ronson's character. I've read his column a number of times and often a wry smile is found on my face. Taking this into account, I think it would be unfair to judge the man, and offer one piece of advice: change your name to Ron Jonson. I think it's snazzier, and if you googled THAT you'd probably only find references to aging Pornstars and BNP spokespeople.

Election Day

Thursday was local election day, and as I've recently come of age, I was able to post my ballot paper into a steel box which, I assume, was probably lost soon afterwards.

All day I'd thought about my choice... do I stand up for my principles and vote for a party that most definitely wouldn't get in? Or do I vote for the party that provide a stronger opposition for the Conservatives?

Thoughts of decision-making clouded my mind as I walked into my village hall, to cast my vote.

I'd expected the place to be packed full of local people exercising their constitutional right, a right that thousands have died for in the course of history. But no, it was just me. I guess that's what happens when you vote at 9pm in a small village in England, but it still made me feel self conscious.. I almost shouted at the dour-faced stewards that they could just put me down as Conservative, and I'd just leave...But I stood my ground, and under the reproachful gazes of blue predators, I took my paper to a booth.

I looked at the sheet. I turned it over. I tried to find a second sheet, but nothing. Three choices?!

All day I'd been panicking over the major decision, and when it came down to it, my choices were threefold:
Green Party. (Represented by a boy from my school.)
Liberal Democrat Party
Conservative Party.

I put an X by the only real choice, and plopped it into the ballot-box. A feeling of rebellion and pride swept over me; I'd cast a vote for humanism.

That said, as I walked out of the hall, into the cold, dark air, I bumped into some neighbours of mine, on their way to vote.
"Two of you?" I thought..."One of me?" I looked at the 'Vote Conservative' badges on their lapels.

Bugger.

May Day LA (Bad language)

Apologies for the bad language, but sometimes lesser words can't summon the same anger.


I felt sick watching this; how dare countries such as Great Britain and the USA label themselves as civilised democracies when these kind of things happen.

The LAPD were heard laughing, shouting:
"Double time, it's tussle time"

Maybe its time someone took these children's toys away from them?

David Cameron

Being the leader of the Conservatives, David Cameron is a big character in the UK. He's also a controversial figure; and as usual the debate is found between the Conservative right, and the Liberal left.
I'm not going to try to pretend that I find the man anything less than a rather irritating toff; slightly in the same vein as Prince Charles, or Baroness Thatcher (booo), but I also can't deny that the humour which can be derived from Cameron is pretty top class.

1. David Cameron stated to the press that all troublesome teenagers needed was..a hug. I'm not sure if you've ever tried to hug a troublesome teenager, but I'll think you might possibly find them slightly reluctant.

They prefer floral gifts, I believe.

Oh, and here's a picture I rather like; I'm assuming it's the result of an attempted hug:


2. David Cameron's head....has been said to look rather like a spoon. This is cruel, and I don't think is fair. To say that the Conservative Party's leader's head is reminiscent of a spoon, is completely false.

David Cameron's head is a spork.

You see, despite the curvature of the forehead, and the doughy undulations of the cheeks, Cameron has spikes. The man you see on the left; the chap gesticulating behind the Tory leader, was arrested a number of days after this incident; and was sentenced to a spell in prison on drugs charges. Coincidence? I think not.


Apparently having one hand in your trousers, and one making a gun-style gesture, whilst making a cheeky grin, makes you the scum of the universe. (According to the Conservative right, anyway).

Oh well, David. I'm sure that if you reach power, your true colours will shine, and we'll see a side to you that we didn't expect. And naturally, I'm assuming that you'll crack down on troublesome teenagers? Oh goody.

I suppose a hug is out of the question?

I'm back

(Please note, I've already managed to balls it up by posting this entry to my old blog. Smooth.)



Well it's been about 6 months since my last post. I'm can tell that you missed me.

The last few months have seen a large amount of change in my life, and the following few hold even more for me. That said however, my sense of political outrage (and also viewership of the Daily Show) has continued, and I thought it was about time I posted again.

This page is as much for me as it is for anybody else; I hope that I can look back one day, and laugh at my precocious and idealistic tendencies; around the time that I'm driving a Benz and voting conservative. (I jest)


Please note, I do not own the copywright to many of the photos on this blog. If you would like me to take it down (not because you're a Conservative or something though), please drop me an email.