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?