If brief radio flickers and supermarket PA systems have taught me anything about modern music, it’s that kids like to party. The shards of Kesha and One Direction that aggressively force their way into my unwilling ear drums from time to time have certainly shown me that much. However, they never really say ‘drinking’ or ‘dancing’ or ‘hanging out with strangers in awkwardly forced social interactions’, they simply say ‘partying’. Now, I’m not entirely sure when the noun ‘party’, as in an assembly of people meeting with a common goal, be it political, social or celebratory, transformed into this awkwardly misapplied verb that I, for one, feel totally ill-equipped to define. All I know about ‘partying’ is that the significance placed upon it makes it fraudulently seem like some sort of animalistic ritual of transcendental meditation that culminates in an out-of-body experience, or an ascension to a new state of being (which I suppose is true, if you consider ‘hungover’ to be a state of being).
Co-worker: I really like the song that’s playing at the moment. Who sings it?
Me: *sigh* I don’t know, some tedious douchebag with an acoustic guitar and no sense of originality.
Let’s get one thing straight: you should always avoid standard public transport. Get a car, ride a bike, use your actual human walking legs, whatever; just make your way to your destination without having to set foot on a train. So fraught with danger and unpleasant tension are they, that if one is foolish, or desperate, enough to utilise them, they must take the most precise and delicate of precautions to remain anonymous; lest you breathe at someone the wrong way and have your peaceful carriage become the setting for a reenactment of the shoot out scene in Leonardo DiCaprio’s mansion from the movie Django Unchained.
Here’s an uninteresting, and yet for some reason, interesting, fact for everyone. Great Britain is one of the world’s only examples (that I can think of) of an island that isn’t named what its countries (or continents) are named. Great Britain is the name of the island upon which we find the countries of England, Scotland, and Wales. This seems trivial I know, but I heard something earlier today that made me chuckle.
Today, British Prime Minister David Camera referred to the legalisation of gay marriage as something that will ‘make our society stronger‘. However, this is untrue. If gay marriage is legalised in the UK, the only difference will be that gay people will get married, and we’d all have one less topic to bicker about.
The problem with aggrandising a concept like this, to make it out to be something that will save the world and make it rain gold on all of its people, is that it can easily be argued with and proved to be false, which it clearly is. Over-selling your argument is detrimental to your cause. By having your exaggerated speculations be dismissed, you are, in essence, having your argument dismissed. If someone says that legalising gay marriage will promote world peace, then someone else will tell them that it won’t; all of a sudden, the spokesman for gay marriage has been dismissed and discredited, and by inflating the significance of his argument, he has harmed its integrity.
I support the legalisation of gay marriage in every respect. It won’t stop wars, or promote universal harmony. It will, however, mean that a gay or lesbian couple who love each other, can make a recognised commitment to one another, that, they presumably believe, will strengthen their relationship.
This skirmish has snowballed into a war; a war between the scrappy underdog liberals, and the cold-hearted, archaic religious institutions that have wrapped their icy tendrils around most of the governing bodies of this world. Two young men in a flat in South London who want nothing more than to be able to use the word ‘husband’ are no longer factored into the debate. It’s a struggle for perceived power, and a struggle for arrogant dominance.
Legalising gay marriage won’t save the world, all it will do is piss off a few people who don’t deserve an opinion on the matter, and delight a million people who do.
Hey, friends! One of my older brothers is taking part in a gruelling, 12 mile obstacle course for an RAF charity in a few months, and he’s literally going to die (ironically ahead of his deployment in Afghanistan later this year), so I’m sure it’d mean a lot to him if some of you guys could, at least repost this, or at most make a teeny tiny donation to throw upon his weary, lifeless corpse. The charity is to care for the loved ones of, and invalided members of, the Royal Air Force. I know most of my followers are American and Canadian, but an injured soldier is still an injured soldier, and a grieving widow is still a grieving widow. It’d be amazing to help Dan raise some money, so please repost this, and give a click to the link below.
Sex, like money, colours your pursuit of happiness from the moment it enters your life. You can alway have more money for better possessions, and you can always have more sex with ‘better‘ partners. It leaves us incapable of true fulfilment, a never ending cycle of the greener grass mentality. It becomes how we define ourselves; all that we do being to impress, and better ourselves in the eyes of others.
If I ever meet one of those people who introduces themselves by saying their name, followed by ‘of‘ and the name of their company that they’ve named after themselves, you can bet your fucking legs that I will elbow drop them on the top of the head.
I don’t want to write much on all this school shooting stuff, because it’s grown into a topic with a million facets; from people debating the merit of mental health funding over gun control laws, to people insulting the media for sensationalising criminals. My opinions aren’t important enough to mill around with all of that, but there is something that has occurred to me, as incorrect or presumptive as it may be.
It tends to be seen as an ‘all the way, or none of the way‘ issue. I consider myself a feminist, in that I view women of absolute equal worth (actually, probably greater worth in most situations). Professionally speaking, I think it’s a ridiculous issue. A female doing the same job as a male should obviously make exactly the same amount of money; it seems irrelevant to mention, but I know that there are still scores of people who’d disagree; but where the issue becomes troublesome is not in professional feminism, but rather, in social feminism.