Hello readers of my LJ. Can you all please vote for the International Slavery Museum in the Lottery Good Causes Awards by following this link (you will find the museum under the 'Heritage' category):

Lottery Good Causes Awards

People from across the pond can do this too! This award would be a good recognition for the ISM and has great promotion potential since the final three award nominees will be on TV.

Thank you.

For Baz's 21st I met up with my mum and Richard who picked up a very hungover little Baz on their way up north to Buxton, Derbeyshire.

This was the hotel we stayed in:



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My brother got a First for his BA degree in Music Technology and Innovation at De Montfort University, Leicester.



Congratulations Baz, you worked hard and you really deserve it. I'm very proud of you little bro.

...or what passes for gardening when you live in a terrace and only have a concrete yard.

I decided to make our yard prettier with ideas of barbecues and outdoors breakfasts beckoning. When our landlords moved out they left some junk in the yard which they said we could get rid of, although suggested we try to recycle what we could, particularly on old push bike which someone might be able to do up and use. I thought, rather than advertise the bike on Freecycle or gumtree, I could just leave it outside the house with a note on it saying that people could take it if they wanted it. I put the bike in the back alley just whilst I was cleaning the yard out. When I went to put the bin out the bike was gone. Someone nicked it! Problem solved. They also nicked a used car battery. I don't want to know what that's being used for. Probably a bit flammable? Oh well.

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Carol Ann Duffy was recently awarded, and accepted, the post of Poet Laureate.

" "My view of the laureateship is that I didn't want to do the thing," says Duffy. "But when all these stories started appearing, I got scores of letters from women saying do it, do it, do it. But I was never really sure. I never really came out and said whether I wanted it or not." (At the time, she was quoted as saying that we needed a "much more democratic" laureateship, more people's poet than monarch's bard, and said, "I will not write a poem for Edward and Sophie. No self-respecting poet should have to.") " - The Guardian, 25th September 1999 (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/1999/sep/25/costabookaward.features)

So what happened to the self-respect then Duffy? Go out the window at the thought of having that status, fame and influence? Or perhaps more likely at the prospect of celebrating your new title with 600 bottles of sherry (which, incidentally, she has asked for upfront)? Shame. I loved that crazy drunk dyke. I met her in York and we talked about Liverpool where she also went to university. She wrote against the elistist Oxbridge toffs and alongside the Liverpool Poets and the New Poetry movement, of which she was an integral part.

And now she's been comissioned to write poems for The Queen.

Ok...first openly gay, female poet laureate. Yes, it's a big deal, yes it's a historic and momentous occassion. Duffy, to her credit says she will give away the nominal salary of just under six grand a year to the poetry society for a new poetry competition and has pledged to use her post to raise the profile of poetry within schools and without having seen what she will do, it us unfair to criticise her use of this position. However, I think the bigger criticism and question that should come out of this is - should we still have this position at all? I am not a believer in blindly keeping traditions just because we think they've always been there. For a start, they haven't. We should continually question why we do things, and what they represent.

In 2003, Benjamin Zepheniah turned down the title of Officer of the British Empire:

" Me? I thought, OBE me? Up yours, I thought. I get angry when I hear that word "empire"; it reminds me of slavery, it reminds of thousands of years of brutality, it reminds me of how my foremothers were raped and my forefathers brutalised. It is because of this concept of empire that my British education led me to believe that the history of black people started with slavery and that we were born slaves, and should therefore be grateful that we were given freedom by our caring white masters. It is because of this idea of empire that black people like myself don't even know our true names or our true historical culture. I am not one of those who are obsessed with their roots, and I'm certainly not suffering from a crisis of identity; my obsession is about the future and the political rights of all people. Benjamin Zephaniah OBE - no way Mr Blair, no way Mrs Queen. I am profoundly anti-empire. " - Zephaniah.

Probably wouldn't have accepted the post of Poet Laureate then. I like Duffy's idea that there should be a 'People's Poet' position. Ok, so it sounds a bit like something from The Young Ones, and there may be some copyright issues with this one looney in Liverpool who has self-appointed himself 'People's Poet', going pub to pub and writing poems for the price of a pint. But it doesn't further the elitist standing poetry has often occupied in this country, a class-dividing position which I believe turns a lot of people off poetry.

The post of Poet Laureate is archaic. It celebrates a monarchy which has been historically involved in a great many human traumas, division and discrimination and which many people see as irrelevant to society today. For these reasons, I believe it does the condition of poetry as something everyone should have access to, experience and create no good at all.

I hope in ten years time, everyone who is offered the post turns it down and demands an end to this nonsense. Having said this, if Duffy turns round and writes a load of anti-monarchy poems, I would certainly laugh, and possibly love her again.

As far as family do's and memorials go, the weekend was...well it was pretty insane on a lot of levels. It was, as my mother put it, a 'memorable memorial'.

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All eyes were on Parliament this afternoon. The release of what must be one of, if not the most significant Budgets of recent times was imminent. At a time when everyone is watching their finances ever more closely, and companies, charities and industries are going down left right and centre, 2009's Budget is of great consequence to everyone. This is a document that will effect everyone in some way, some more than others, and as such, lunchtime today was a greatly anticipated historical occassion.

True to form then, Luton's very own Margaret Moran MP respected the seriousness of the occassion and brought some crucial perspective to the Commons:

" 1226: Loud cheers around the chamber for Luton South MP Margaret Moran who, wearing a Luton Town FC scarf, congratulates the team for winning the Johnston Paints Trophy, despite being relegated from the Football League. Mr Brown says he is sure the club will return to the league soon. "

Come on...slightly bigger things going on perhaps? Hold it together guys - focus

Among the announcements were a 50% tax on high earners (£150,000 per year and above). This served as a political move rather than a purely financial one. Labour have backed the Tories into a corner. If Cameron backs the tax he isolates a large proportion of his voting class, if he does not back it, he attracts criticism for making those on lower incomes pay for what they cannot afford, isolating a large proportion of a potential voting class...and with pending elections as well.

Also people are going to be paid for being grandparents? Did I read that right?

New Robin Hood film is essentially, "Gladiator with a bow and arrow"




No. No I don't think so. I don't much like the look of this at all. Although I am glad that the new film has scrapped the idea of changing the roles of Robin and the Sheriff so that the Sheriff is 'lawful good' and Robin is 'chaotic...TALIBAN' or whatever they were getting at with that reversal idea.

It's going to be really bad isn't it?

So, my grandfather died earlier this year. He was 92, and by the end was really ready to go, even talking about going to Switzerland in order to do something about this, or asking the nurses to keep giving him morphine to do something about this in a less official manner. When he died, it was by his request that his body be donated to Oxford University for medical research, and as such there wasn't time to organise a funeral before his body had to be transported. Instead his family (and by this, I suppose I technically mean my family too, although it will soon become clear why I'm distancing myself from a lot of them) have organised a memorial for him, at this grand location:



The above building is Saint Hill Manor. If you don't know what this place is, I suggest you Google it, or Wiki it. Although, I'm going to tell you about it anyway so you might as well just keep reading.

Saint Hill Manor dates back to 1567 "when Stephen Bord of Cuckfield left in his will one cottage and 12 acres of pasture". Later in 1733, John Crawfurd of Ayrshire formed the Saint Hill estate and his son Gibbs rebuilt it in 1792 into a grand country manor as it stands today. The sandstone for the building was quarried by hand from nearby West Hoathly.

Now, this is all well and interesting, however it is not this era of the house's history that is the issue. In 1959, the house was bought by the gentleman pictured below.



A Mr L. Ron Hubbard, who made the estate his family home and the Scientology headquarters of the UK - which it still is to this day.

My grandfather was very active in the Church of Scientology, although not so much towards the end of his life. However, many members of my mum's family still believe and follow and a few are still active in the church. This weekend, I will meet them, on their turf. I'm scared and curious. But mostly scared.

MY MUM: You need to choose what you're having for dinner at Philip's memorial do.
ME: I'll have the Scientology Pie. Mmm. Full of extraterrestrial goodness.

I figured, if anyone tries to convert me - I'll tell them I'm a Jedi. Jedi and Scientology must be rival religions right? Scientologists believe we were put here by aliens, and I've seen Jedi kill aliens...plus the whole 'thetans' thing is a bit like the force, and Jedis can control the force so you know...I'd win. At least this theory might confuse them enough for them to give up and leave me alone.

British thoughts for British thinkers - The BNP

For those of you across the pond who may not know, The British National Party are a far-right political party here in Blighty known for their ‘tough stance’ on immigration and outspoken views on the rights of different societal groups. The description in the previous sentence, as many of you will be aware, was a somewhat generous interpretation of who the BNP are. In reality it goes a bit more like this: the BNP incite racial hatred against non-white people in Britain under the cover of issues surrounding the use and abuse of resources in society, jobs and taxes. They also similarly incite hatred against gay people, women and most other people you can think of who don’t come under the heading of ‘white heterosexual man’ under the cover of religion, claiming to be the only political party representing ‘England’s true Christian heritage’. Now, I don’t know whether I’ve just become more aware of this because my MA made me seriously criticise and become more aware of the way racism in this country is facilitated and mobilised, or whether this is genuinely happening, but it seems like the BNP are getting a lot more openly active lately. I know we have a pending election and they’re trying to get seats in the European Parliament, but its feels as if more and more people are at best, tolerating these people and at worse…joining them.

What I really don’t get is that The British National Party evolved, via the clever mechanism of changing their name, from The National Front (i.e. Neo-Nazi Holocaust-denying skinheads of the early 1980s, think ‘This is England’, which is, by the way, a very good film). Prior to this they were called…The British National Party (from 1960). Prior to this they were known as The English National Association and prior to this they were The British Union of Fascists who emerged from World War II. So, basically, the BNP is a fascist party left over from the war who have simply re-branded a few times - sometimes not even bothering to come up with new names to mask their fascist roots. And people are… okay with this? Seriously?

Recently, the BNP tried to hold a public rally in Liverpool. Myself and thankfully many others signed a petition against this and it was cancelled, although Nick Griffin (BNP leader) stated this was because the rally would have clashed with an Everton match. But then he would say that. They have also released a catchy new ad campaign:



Yes, what would Jesus do? I want to say…join the British National Party? Yes? Spiffy.

You know, I’m almost impressed by the BNP sometimes. Their uncanny ability to blanketly offend the most groups in society at any one given time is truly astounding.

A Manic Street Preachers song was also added to their website by a member, using the lyric “If you tolerate this, then your children will be next”, not in reference to the volunteers who fought fascism during the Spanish Civil War, as the band had intended it, but in reference to the so-called ‘Great Multicultural Experiment’ the party believe has been imposed on a once fine white country. Naturally, the Manics threatened to sue.

“Thatcher Thatcher, Milksnatcher!”

Talking of far-right politics, this year is the thirty-year anniversary of the election of Margaret Thatcher. There have been a number of articles and opinion pieces in the press to mark this, of slightly differing angles depending on which newspaper you’re reading and in varying depths. Most of which I have found to be an interesting read, discussing as they do a momentous period in political history which although I was not alive or old enough to witness, I see and experience the legacies of now, particularly here in the North. Germaine Greer’s piece in The Guardian (11.04.09) argued that Maggie was a scruple-less puppet, controlled by her male colleagues and ‘packaged’ like a politician had never been packaged before, from physical makeover to control of the media machine owned by Rupert Murdoch (The Sun and The News of The World) who re-packaged ‘Maggie’ by squeezing the spirit of Churchill in the body of a housewife. It was interesting stuff, and Greer’s piece in particular was a good read. However, am I alone in feeling that thirty years is really not long enough to properly reflect on Thatcher’s reign? Perhaps it is for a London-centric media, but when you’ve lived in places where those who striked in 1984-85 will not walk on the same side of the road as ‘scabs’, or the police who worked during the miner’s strikes, and you live in a city still hurt by an atrocity in Hillsborough which Thatcher’s paper blamed Liverpool football fans’ hooliganism for, ‘football hooliganism’ being a social immorality Thatcher herself pressed into public consciousness as proof of declining standards which may have determined police behaviour that day… three decades, only two of which without that government, is not very long at all. We live with the legacies of Thatcherism, and there will not be a day in most people’s lifetimes, let alone hers, when we do not.

‘Thatcherism’ is a term too dangerous to pacify and memorialise to a bygone era. As Greer states:

“Thatcherism is now being vilified throughout the English-speaking world as an evil ideology that exalted greed and selfishness to the point of unstringing the sinews of the body politic. It was never anything so systematic. ”

Systematic it may not have been, but it will be remembered as the devious scheme of one extreme character through the term ‘Thatcherism’. The actions undertaken by the Conservative government at that time will be passed off as acts of ‘Thatcherism’, as just the way things went down in ‘Thatcher’s Britain’. ‘Thatcherism’ exceptionalises a political ideology, but would any other Conservative leader have acted all that differently? I doubt it.

The real danger of ‘Thatcherism’ is as a word. This coupled with people’s staggering ability to selectively forget large pieces of the past and still vote the Tories, or worse, into power despite still suffering from the social inequalities caused by that government.

In many ways this is just a lazy way of getting through three months of updates. In fact that's exactly what this is. Everyone likes photos though so it's ok.

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Thanks Liam, I had the urge to do this one, but not on Facebook. Long Live Livejournal! Let the Internetz Wars commence! Ctrl-Alt-Del!!!

So, 25 random/insightful/banal/made-up/true/who knows/useless time-wasting shite about me.

1. My middle name is Mary. I hate it now only because I hated it when I was a kid and haven't updated my mindset. I hated it then because of its Christian associations.

2. I have a cat called Merlin. He is one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in my life. It was entirely irresponsible to buy a kitten whilst living in a one-bed flat. I do, however, love him more than most things in this world and would live on the streets before giving him up. Or maybe he could live on the streets with me...as my protector by night - hissing at hobos that try to nick my box, and then during the day he could work in a bank or something. No, JJBs. Yes.

3. The most valuable thing I own moneywise is my car; the most sentimentally valuable thing I own (excluding Merlin of course) is my Chinese Pillow box. It belonged to my great grandmother who was probably given it in Liverpool by her father over a hundred years ago. My grandmother gave it to me, she put bones in it and I added to the collection.

4. I have a gap in my teeth that I'm still self-conscious about. I rarely show teeth when I smile and feel awkward at times, despite how many people tell me it's cute/sexy - its hard to silence school chants of 'Polyfiller' as a nickname.

5. I really, really hate Luton. You just can't understand if you haven't lived there.

6. I am still dumbfounded by the fact that the Women of the Year award for Outstanding Achievement is sponsored by 'Good Housekeeping'. Come on.

7. I love Robin Hood.

8. I love having red hair, but it needs cutting and I'm wondering whether to change the style.

9. I hate telling certain members of my family and friends of that family what I'm doing/what I've done, because I don't for a minute believe they see it as an achievement. I think rather, they are content in their belief that I have been wasting my time with higher education and will ultimately fail at life.

10. I am either very good with money or too afraid of poverty to actually spend anything. I haven't worked it out yet. Although, I don't re-use tea bags so that's something.

11. I think driving is overrated. I do however love my Marian. She is useful, but the word 'liberating' is really taking things too far.

12. I really need to write my article. And more poetry.

13. I drink FAR too much coffee. When I don't drink it, I get headaches. I do appreciate that this is not good. But I need it. That's the way drugs work.

14. I can't find a decent pair of ankle boots ANYWHERE.

15. I read Tarot. Although I don't believe in fate, so I use the readings as more of a reflective tool than a fortune-telling one. Even if you totally disagree with what the cards say, that can help secure things in your mind and help you make a better decision.

16. I'm really fucking sick of posh kids.

17. I have 10 piercings. I probably wont get a tattoo despite saying that I might.

18. The memory that makes me feel most guilty is when I was about 9 and broke my brother's yellow truck after we'd had a fight. The image of him trying to put the shattered toy back together will haunt me forever. Seriously, never getting over that.

19. I get too into books and convince myself that I have a 'special bond' with characters and cultures depicted in them, like when I read Angela's Ashes and my 'special bond' with the Irish meant that for about two weeks I hated the English. This can lead to confusion and great offense.

20. I own more old things than new things. I love second hand clothes. Top Shop can fuck right off.

21. I am afraid of wax models and earwigs. My biggest fear is a wax model of an earwig.

22. Mint, ale and wine make me sneeze.

23. I have crushes on the following people: Greg House, James McAvoy, Barack Obama, Sheridan Smith, Alan Davis, Dylan Moran.

24. I resent Livejournal putting an advert for Valentines Day products on my screen whilst I'm writing 25 useless pieces of information about myself that I'm not even interested in, sitting alone and wondering where my cat is.

25. This was a lot more boring than I thought it would be.

It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness

New beginnings started, new leaves turned, new homes, new endeavours, old people/new people, old place/new place. Leaves are funny things to turn when they come from a familiar tree.



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Victoria and I ventured over to Liverpool yesterday to view a house. It turned out to be just as perfect as we'd thought, and we took it. We are still in shock as to how easy this all was.

We were a little early, so stopped at Keith's wine bar on Lark Lane for a cuppa. There have been some new resturants, flats and bars built since I was last there and intend to fully explore these in due course. Not the flats. That would be rude.

The house is a three bedroom Victorian Terrace on a cul-de-sac about 10 mins walk from Lark Lane. There is a playing field at the bottom of the road and a retirement home opposite making it a very quiet and safe place (thinking of Merlin and cars here). There are two reception rooms (living and dining area) with a fantastic kitchen, little yard out back, very cool bathroom, one absolutely huge front bedroom, one smaller double and one small single. We've figured that whoever takes the smaller double will also have the single as an office/study. This will make it very difficult to decide between the two bedrooms...in fact we still haven't decided that. Coins may be involved.

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Happy New Year everyone! I have high hopes for 2009, the changes this year will bring, the new friends and old friends, the possibilities and opportunities. It is often useful to reflect on what has happened in order to put the present in perspective. My problem is that in the last two months I had been mostly waiting for things to happen, waiting to get a good job, to know where I was going and plan accordingly. Working a minimum-wage retail job to make ends meet whilst waiting for greater things was wholly depressing and meant that I haven't really be able to celebrate the year just gone until now. So here is my obligatory annual questionnaire of 2008.

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I had another job interview with National Museums Liverpool for a Research Assistant post. I got the train across...



The train was 20mins late which worried me.

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Yesterday I went on a day-trip to Southampton. From York. Yes, really.

I had an interview with the Hampshire and Wight Trust for Maritime Archaeology for an Access and Outreach Officer post. It went really well, they were nice friendly people and were very encouraging. They should let me know by the middle of next week. They were interviewing for two days so I should imagine there'll be people with far more experience than me, but Outreach is what I want to do, so it's worth trying if only for the experience and interview feedback. I had to prepare and deliver a presentation and create a 'resource to engage and inspire' people. All sounds a bit proper doesn't it? I was pretty pleased with my presentation and ability not to run away screaming from Powerpoint. The presentation had to be about how I would promote maritime archaeology to a wider audience and whilst my main points were that we need to do this through the key concepts of 'relevance and accessibility', I could have just as easily had 'heritage institutions in this country need to stop being so fucking racist' as a bullet point to sum up my presentation. But that would have been rude. My resource was based around the idea of creating a set of a ship-wreck (the trust have an 'outreach van' that they drive around to events so it could easily hold props) using barrels labelled with different imported/exported products (e.g. sugar, tea, coffee, guns, textiles) and use these objects as spingboards for discussion on where they've come from, where they're going to, who produced them etc). These objects could also link to pictures/reconstructions of cultural phenomena (such as tea-drinking, coffee houses, Wedgewood porcelain) on a table as a way of stimulating discussion/debate.

I took some photos of the day.

INTERVIEW-TRAIN-ADVENTURE

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"What does not destroy me, makes me stronger" - Nietzsche

It's been a weird Halloween this year. I think this is mainly because I feel so uncertain about my future, that tends to have a knock effect on everything else and will continue to do so until I find work. Boo jobs. Although I do have an interview with the devil on Tuesday. Not at all confident about that one, it's a far higher grade than a 23 year old should be starting on. But we will see. At least I am starting to get interviews now, it's just a long process with a lot of waiting.

Anyway, Halloween. We had a party at our house on Friday which was pretty messy. I wasn't in a big party mood really, particularly not with a bunch of strangers, most of whom were retards. I really dont get it, Louise, Duncan and Dave are so very nice and intelligent and interesting and yet they're friends with some real nobheads. One of whom nearly blinded me with green glitter and took a piss in our flower pot in the yard despite there being a loo a mere few feet away next to the kitchen. My housemates also left me with these strangers in order to go off to a club, meaning that I couldn't go to sleep when I wanted to for fear of people breaking/nicking stuff. Ah, communal living. It sucks sometimes. But when it really gets me down, all I have to think is...it could be worse. I could live in Luton. I could live in Luton with my dad. I could live in Luton with my dad and work at Greenbank. Oh dear lord no I couldn't.

Anyway, the party was a good excuse to a) dress as Robin b) make a cake and c) giggle like a fool about Tarry and Nat playing 'drunk person buckaroo' with whoever it was that passed out in my living room. Funny stuff.

Everywhere in York seemed to sell out of pumpkins pretty quickly so all I could get was a miniature one. This was so cute it made me squeel though - and it is a handy 'altar size'. Sweet huh?

Altar with cute pumpkin



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BAZ.

On Tuesday I travelled south to Leicester to visit my brother. I think I'm getting the hang of this driving lark.



We had lunch in The Globe, where we were met by Bekki - who was broke so ate my leftovers. Ah, uni days!

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Having just bought membership with English Heritage, I figured I had better start getting my money's worth. So, for the first time since I moved to York a year ago, I went inside Clifford's Tower. Photos of it seem to be better outside its walls, although photos of the view were pretty good.

Clifford's Tower



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