It’s highly geeky, and nothing to do with disability, but a few days ago I was struck by an idea which has been begging to be noted. One of my academic interests is in fans and fan art. Some people see a distinct divide between fan art and professional art, but to me it’s silly to make such a divide. After all, one does not automatically become a professional; every artist – be they a writer, painter, musician or film-maker – started essentially as a fan. Most great directors, for example, started by making what are essentially fan movies. Even the great Godard took inspiration from the great American directors of the forties and fifties. Moreover, as attested by born of hope, fan movies are drawing close to the ‘real’ thing in terms of production values. Thus I think a distinction between professional and fan art is obsolete; both are equally valid.

To me, however, this raises some interesting prospects. What about things like crossovers, when two mainstream texts are merged? This is quite easily achieved in narrative prose, and there are many, many examples online: stories where harry potter goes to middle earth; where james bond fights darth vader, and so on. But what interests me is whether this could be achieved filmicaly: could you somehow merge the aesthetics of two different screen narratives? How would, say, the USS Voyager look landing in Farmer Maggot’s fields? For years I have had an image in my head of a squadron of x-wing fighters providing air support for the rohhirim. Is there a way to combine the mise en scene of two separate texts. Now, I know what you’re thinking: why would you want to? But I’m interested in fiction’s relationship with culture. We live in postmodern times, and it seems that the crossover fan film is the next evolutionary step. A few examples already exist on YouTube, mostly consisting of recut scenes; needles to say they vary in quality, most lying somewhere at the poor end of the scale. Yet, as I said, some fan films are drawing close to professional standards, and I find the prospect of such well-made filmic textual play intriguing. Were would such hybrid fictions take us? What brilliant new images could be made? Time to go back to looking for such things.

As I mentioned a couple of entries ago, Lyn was supposed to be in the Mail on Sunday today. I went to the shop first thing to pick up a copy, but alas there was no sign of my beloved fiance in there. It’s a pity: thy must have cut the story for some reason; I daresay it may have been too liberal a story for that Tory rag.

Of course, I never go anywhere near the Mail, but having bought it, I thought I might as well take a gander at George Osbourne’s article in it today. Needless to say, if you don’t have the opportunity to read it you aren’t missing much. The only thing I find more nauseating than Osbourne’s economics is his writing style: he uses so many cliches, presumably in an attempt to make himself sound approachable, that it makes him seem even more of a prick than he is already. A more serious concern of mine, however, is his emphasis on cutting tax: I get how cutting tax benefits some people, but at a time when everyone is going on about how little money the state has, and how the state must pay off it’s debts, the state should be taking more money from those who can afford it. taxes should be going up, not down. Thus the whole article smacked of Tory thinking, where things are seen in terms of the individual rather than the collective. And favouring the individual over the collective invariably favours only the most able in society. Thus, for all his jocular tone, for all his claims to occupy the centre ground, for all his delusions that the majority of people believe he is doing the right thing, this article was nothing more than the ravings of a right wing neoliberal trying to justify his ideologically motivated actions.

And, believe me, another article with Lyn in it notwithstanding, that’s the first and last time I buy the Mail.

I have two or three things on my mind today, and there’s a lot I could write about. I was pleased to see the tories got the trouncing they deserve, but the down side to that is boris got re-elected as London mayor. That is not good news: the electorate needed to send a clear, unambiguous message to david CaMoron that we are not happy with his ideologically-inspired cuts. Nationally we did that, and indeed almost wiped out the lib dems. Bu now, with this Tory fuckwit still in the Mayors office, that message has been tainted; indeed it allows idiots like Peter Bone[head] to say that it’s time to end the coalition and for the tories to rule as a minority government. If that far-right freak gets his way, we would be living in an unelected dictatorship. Such people really piss me off: to hear him talk of liberals as he does, to see him talk so arrogantly as if he has an innate right to rule, as if he think he was elected and has a mandate, embodies everything I hate about the Tory party. The election results suggest to me that the country has had enough of the tories; it is time for CaMoron to leave number ten and a liberal-labour coalition to be set up, or at least for another general election. The country has had enough of people like CaMoron, Osbourne, that slimy cow Varsi and Bone arrogantly patronising us, dictating to us, making us suffer while they and their friends stay rich. The election results should have sent that message clearly, but, with the re-election of Boris, it has been dulled. When seen in those terms, London has betrayed itself and the country.

While a few of the opening comments make me cringe, I’d just like to send you to this cnn report about Lost voice guy. It is quite impressive, and it’s good to see us VOCA users going up in the world. Mind you he’s not the only one: lyn had a gig last night, which was awesome. I got to see her jamming! She is also going to be in this weeks Mail On Sunday, where you’ll be able to read all about the super cool thing I alluded to on tuesday. I can’t wait to see it, even if it does mean I have to buy the Mail. Grrr!

Glorious though it was, my day of reading yesterday meant that I fell out of touch with what was going on in the world. The first contact I had with the news was, in fact, when I heard Newsnight starting at half ten. It was then, of course, that I discovered that the shit had hit the fan for Rupert Murdoch in a most amusing way. I rushed to the living room.

This is, of course, a very complex story, but an intriguing one. Phone hacking is nothing to make jokes about, but last night the entire story took on an air of a farce, too. To state the obvious, it is very telling how the committee was split in their decision to explicitly condemn the Murdochs, with Labour and Lib dems wanting to take the logical step of placing blame at their door while the tories attempted to hold them back. With the committee split like that, their report looses impact, and MPs on both sides would have known that, so why did they do it? They have given Murdoch a get-out clause: now he can just say ”ah, the committee was split! the labour members were politically motivated, so everyone can ignore it.”

Why, then, did they do this? Is it, as Louise Mensch claims, all Labour’s fault – did they go too far in wanting to ascribe blame to the murdochs? Were the labour and lib dem members carrying out a personal vendetta against the media tycoon, while the tories were merely trying to keep the report within it’s remit? What I find more likely is that the tories wanted to protect the murdochs at all costs, and therefore deliberately opposed the condemnation in order that they might A) curry favour with newscorp for their party, and B) deliberately render a report which they knew would damn the Murdochs obsolete, again to curry favour. In other words, the tories wrecked this report for their own gain. After all, why would Labour members of the committee deliberately insert a clause blaming the murdochs when they knew it would render their report moot, or at least be opposed by tory members, if they didn’t think it absolutely necessary? Personal vendetta or not, they wouldn’t be that stupid. They were drawing the logical conclusion, that the murdochs can no longer be seen as fit and proper people to run a media empire, a conclusion that the Tories don’t want anyone to make. Given that, surely they don’t expect us to believe that the Mrdochs knew nothing of the phone hacking scandal, the Tories must have some ulterior motive for protecting the murdochs. That I find very dodgy indeed, and I think Lousise Mensch and her Tory colleagues need to be investigated for links to the Murdochs.

I suppose my original plan was slightly too optimistic, but today has been a good one nevertheless. I had planned to read an entire book in a day – something I have only done once or twice in my life, and is a pretty tall ask at the rate I read. Lyn has been out today on a secret mission I can’t tell you about, so, as I had not done any serious reading in ages, I thought I’d plonk myself on the sofa and reacquaint myself with the sweet, subtle smell of paper. I used to read regularly, but I’ve fallen out of the habit, so today, I’m pleased to report, was quite blissful. In the event, I got through two chapters (sixty pages) of ‘The Horse Who Drank The Sky’ by pomerance, which I’m rereading ahead of getting his book on Lord Of The Rings. It is a good read if you are into film. I started at about eleven, had a pee at about half two, and the next time I looked at the clock it had gone six. That was a power I had forgotten the written word had: an ability to whisk one away, to warp one’s sense of time. It felt wonderful. Reading at length is a habit I certainly intend to get back into.

I usually have a cordial dislike for adverts, and don’t like drawing attention to them, but I feel I must flag up the fact that, two or three nights ago, I heard Hello By The Cat Empire in the background of a toyota advert. If I heard correctly, and I’m pretty sue it was them as Lyn heard it to, that would be the first time I heard the cat emp being played in the british media. I squealed loudly: I still adore that band, and still treasure the memories I have of listening the them at uni with charlie. Who knows: maybe this is the first sign of their full-scale introduction to england. hope it is, but if they do make it big over here, remember where you heard about them first.

It is absolutely sodden out there: definitely a day for pottering around the house, watching tv, blogging, reading and maybe catching up on one or two programmes I’ve missed on IPlayer. It would also be a good day to listen to Lyn play some tunes. I haven’t listened to lyn doing her thing in ages; it seems like every time I want to chill out at home for a bit, chopper calls and tries to convince me to o to the pub. I really must learn to put my foot down and stand up to both chopper and my taste for beer. It would be better for both my wallet and my liver, and today it would mean I remain far drier. Besides, who needs a pub juke box when you have one of the best deejays in the country for your girlfriend?

I’m sorry, but this is just far too cool for me not to link to. It’s someone playing a heavy metal version of ‘Concerning Hobbits’ from The Lord Of The Rings. I stumbled over it yesterday, and immediately made Lyn pipe it through her big speakers; it really does kick butt. Mind you, what Tolkien would have made of a piece of music played on an electric guitar but has been adapted from an orchestral piece, originally played as one of the background themes in an adaptation of one of his books, and whose title is taken from one of the subheadings in his preface, I dread to think. Awesome though I think it is, I dare say the professor would have hated what postmodernity has turned his creation into, and I must admit that also makes me feel a bit sad.

I must admit to being quite fascinated by the performance of Rupert Murdoch at the Leveson enquiry – and it is indeed a performance. There is a power struggle at play which just begs for analysis: I am reminded of the accounts of trials of kings or ex presidents, where men used to wielding great power and respect are interrogated and spoken to like commoners. Their power has been stripped away. It must be so strange for Murdoch, so used to having the rulers of the world eating out of his hand. Mind you, it’s nothing he doesn’t deserve: he may have had a bit of a go at the bbc (albeit less of a rant than I was expecting) but I think it is he, not the beeb, who is responsible for the puerile state of the British media today. He is the one who has tried to turn the British mediascape into commercial-infested pap; this morning he tried to use his time at the stand as a soapbox, denouncing the rise of alternative news outlets, including us bloggers, but to his credit lord Leveson nipped that in the bud. In other words, I could see that Murdoch was trying to bend proceedings to his own advantage,, but for once failing. It made for quite fascinating viewing, and I’m sure better writers than me will be penning intriguing deconstructions of it as I type. It was as if we were watching great men being undone, yet clinging desperately to the belief that they were still great. What the ramifications of this weeks’ events will be remains to be seen – it should, by rights, have already brought about Jeremy Hunt’s resignation; the fact that we haven’t seen that tells us all we need to know about this tory government. I’m sure it’ll continue to unfold, and I’ll stay glued to it, much to lyn’s chagrin. She, probably wisely, sees all this as some tiresome sideshow, and wheels back into her studio to get on with some real work.

I was going to blog about this yesterday, after seeing katie caryer flag it up on her facebook page, but got distracted by other matters. This is the site of Lost Voice Guy, to my knowledge the world’s first and only VOCA using stand-up comedian. I’ve not had chance to check him out fully, but this is pretty exciting, and dare I say it groundbreaking stuff. To begin with, I was in two minds about this, concerned that it might be mere tokenism, but then I watched some more of the guy’s act, and realized how genuinely funny the guy is. Thus yet another barrier is broken down, proven to be false. For my part, though, I can’t wait till he comes to perform in london so Lyn and I can go heckle him!

By and large I have had a film-oriented day. I haven’t actually watched any films, or done any editing of my thesis, but I’ve continued my obsession with Peter Jackson by watching clips abut the making of the lord of the rings. I was very excited, too, to discover that academic film studies has not actually neglected the trilogy as I suspected. Murray Pomerance has a new book out, called From Hobbits To Hollywood, at last giving jackson’s epic the analytical treatment I’ve yearned to see since 2004. In some ways to see that book published makes me feel less of a mere fanboy, especially given that Pomerance is a writer whose work I draw upon for my own. It feels that my opinion that what Jackson did in producing those film(s) was something exceptional has been confirmed by the wider film community, and I don’t need to feel ashamed about preferring them to Truffaut. In short, it’s good to see I’m not obsessed by films the academic community shuns as populist. It feels like I can, at last, come out about liking lotr.

I’m not sure about the importance or veracity of this, and apart from this post from the washington post I can’t find any detail, but it seems that 125 people from disability campaign group ADAPT have been arrested while protesting against cuts in Medicaid. I just thought I’d flag it up, as it is likely to be a major disability-related news story, but its still going on so there’s not much detail. The best I can do is send you here to the Twitter feed, and express my solidarity with my fellow crip activists over the pond.

I was woken by the sound of helicopters this morning. The London marathon passes through Charlton, of course, and I presume they were filming it from on high. I still have a liking or choppers ever since I had a ride in one in Australia. Anyway, about an hour later, being washed, dressed and watered, I headed to the end of the road to see if I could see anything interesting. I had never seen the village so quiet, so devoid of traffic, but by then most of the runners had already been through. It seemed that there wasn’t much left to see, but I decided to hang around a bit anyway. after a few minutes, and after an aborted attempt to get talking to one of the stewards (I gotta get my lightwriter fixed!) I was considering heading back in when I saw something which I think is quite brilliant.

I saw a young lady come around the corner in the distance, two men walking beside her. She was using a rolator – a walking frame of a kind I once used when I was small – and obviously had CP. I waited for her to pass me, and then applauded as vehemently as I could; frankly I felt myself filled with admiration for her. You could debate the politics of such things, and call it a symptom of medical model thinking or a piece of unnecessary crip heroics, but the fact remains this young woman, who I guess was in her early twenties, had set herself a task of competing alongside her peers and was determined to see it through. After all, lazy git that I am, I wouldn’t do such a thing; these days I find the short walk round the corner to the shop too far, and go in my chair.

I decided to ride beside them for a while. She was walking rather slowly. It turned out that their plan was to walk the course over four days, doing seven miles a day. The young woman, whose name is Nicole, was obviously quite tired but very determined. Her parents were walking beside her, supporting her. I would have liked to ask a few more questions, but my lightwriter was playing up, so I kept quiet. I turned and headed home at the edge of Charlton, not wishing to distract them too much. I truly hope that in four days Nicole will stride proudly up the Mall, head held high, having proven once more that us crips can do anything.

I should probably mark the announcement of the death of Lord Ashley of stoke on here. The first deaf MP and a tireless campaigner for those with disabilities, by all accounts he was a pioneer. Were it not for people like jack ashley, the world would probably be rather different for people like me. Click here for the full story.

I must admit to being slightly concerned about the french general election tomorrow. For the first time in modern history, there is a real chance that either a Communist or a fascist could be elected into power in a western liberal democracy. Does this not strike anyone else as alarming? It seems we are regressing to the extremist politics of the thirties. I suppose, in way, that is not surprising, given that we have a financial environment as extreme as it was back then; then as ow, people seem to be getting desperate. It is happening here, in france, and all over the place, including in the states. Whatever happens in france tomorrow, this is a symptom of a very worrying trend; such things rarely bode well for minorities like the disabled.

I don’t think the clip is available on youtube (feel free to post a link in the comments if you do find it) but I was pleased to see the closure of the ace centre in Oxford came up in PMQs yesterday. I had worried that the subject would be completely ignored by the mainstream, but about 19 minutes in to yesterday’s round of Punch and Judy politics, the subject was raised by andrew smith of Labour. CaMoron unfortunately did not offer much more detail or insight into the problem apart from the stuff we already know, but he did promise to look into it, which I suppose is better than nothing. Frankly, I’m just happy this issue was raised at all – the danger is for it just to be ignored, and a centre so vital to so many would be closed with nobody in a position to help batting an eyelid. the full program can be seen here

Looking back over them, I suspect most of my recent blog entries could be criticised for being somewhat superficial. They lack the depth I should be giving them. For example, a week or two ago I noted how the character of James Bond might somehow be involved in the olympic opening ceremony. That is indeed rather cool, but what does it mean? What does it signify? I failed to ask the truly interesting questions. Could it be that, in involving this piece of fiction in such ceremony, are we pandering to a form of modern british folklore, telling stories abut ourselves? Is it not odd to have a womanizing, hard-drinking government assassin, albeit a fictional one, involved in the proudest moment in our countries modern history? It is high time I started asking such questions again.

The same goes for yesterday’s entry. Describing Game of Thrones and telling you all how much I like Sean Bean is all very well and good, but what does it mean? What does the resurgence of the fantasy genre mean in cultural terms? Is it for example, a reaction to 9/11, a symptom of a desire to retreat into a fantasy world? Of course, the lord of the Rings was in production long before 2001, but could part of it’s success and that of things like Harry potter be in the fact they are set in worlds with simplistic notions of good and evil? We, or rather american audiences, don’t seem to like ambiguity, much preferring to be told that good is good and bad is bad and the good guy always win. That must be a factor involved in the resurgence of fantasy.

I suppose I have grown out of the habit of asking such questions, dealing with such issues, especially on my blog. It’s probably time I got back into it, and stopped simply noting how cool I find things.

I have been thinking about peter Jackson quite a bit recently, looking at his directing style and so on. This morning, I was going through his videos on YouTube about how The Lord of the Rings was made. You know, it might not be a perfect copy of the book, but it could have turned out so much worse, and I have every respect for Jackson for producing the most faithful adaptation that he could under the constraints of modern post-classical cinema. After all, think how awful it could have been had Disney got the rights to it.

Anyway, our PA Dominik saw me watching these films and mentioned I might like something called Game Of Thrones, which he said was similar. He kindly lent me a copy of the first season, and I just finished watching the first episode. Truth be told I was expecting something derivative, American and written in a cliched attempt at replicating Tolkien. But then I saw Sean Bean in the opening credits, and realised I might be in for a treat. Bean has been one of my favourite actors since Sharpe, and nothing with Sharpe, Alec Trevelyan or Boromir in it can be that bad.

I was not wrong. I have only seen the very first episode which is barely enough to base a judgement on, but I think I am already hooked. It’s well written, some fairly good plots are staring to emerge, and a few very good characters have been established. These of course include Lord Eddard Stark, Bean’s character, and a pretty cool whore-fucking dwarf. It is fairly bawdy, very bloody at times, and not afraid to hold back. In short my fears were allayed, and I’m looking forward to watching more. You know, I had feared that adapting The Lord of the Rings would produce a swathe of imitations set in similar worlds but with none of the depth and realism of Tolkien: something produced by people wanting to ride on Jackson’s success but who have none of his respect for the fantasy genre or Tolkien’s creation. If game of Thrones is televisions reply to Jackson, so far the legacy of adapting the Lord Of The Rings for the big screen appears to be a good one.

I am pleased to report my keyboard is now working properly. We think there was a loose connection somewhere. It’s funny, but somehow I feel a lot better knowing I can blog now; as a writer and someone whose primary mode of communication with the world is through writing, such things seem to hang over me like dark clouds.

Anyway, as promised, I think I’ll share the following picture with you. By the way, the bike is choppers, and this was taken with his consent. He left it in our garden or safe keeping while he finds a buyer for it, and, as it is green, the temptation to do my green suit and get on it became too much. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea – taking it certainly seemed to freak Chopper’s mum out a bit – but it just seemed too awesome for me not to post on here! [img description=”undefined image” align=”centre”]/images/green bike.jpg[/img]

Lyn and i were trying to sort out my computer on saturday. we reinstalled everything but, since then, my super-dupper expanded keyboard has refused to work. i just got back online using one of lyn’s spares. Im sure we can fix it, and my usual inane gibberish will resume shortly, but until then bear with me. ON the other hand, it was quite a cool weekend; I went to see hugh and jodie in greenwich on saturday, who it was awesome to catch up with, and, on saturday, a fantastic [picture of me was taken, a picture which I am very excited about but I think I’ll make you wait till my next entry to see it.

While I’m still in indignant mode, I better direct you here too. Channel four have axed a sketch from their disability comedy sketch show ‘I’m Spazzicus’. The sketch, which apparently involved a blind dude posing nude, apparently offended the old people he was posing for. A naked body is a naked body, whether it’s owner can see or not. I can’ make out why these people felt so offended, nor why C4 felt they had to chicken out by pulling the sketch. shows like this break down barriers, and to do so often necessitates offending some people. Of course, if it had been about poking fun at the blind man, that would have been another matter, but he was in on the gag, and indeed probably helped create it. Disabled people must be allowed to poke fun at ourselves; we must not give in to prudes.

I’m not happy about this – no happy at all. Sky has stolen the rights to show the bond films on TV from ITV. Unless you are one of those morons wo subscribes to sky,you won’t be able to watch any of the bond films on television. This does not affect me, as, of course, I have the DVD box set, but this ends the british tradition of curling up in front of a 007 flick on a wet bank holiday weekend. Hence a warm cozy aspect of life haas been stolen from us all by a greedy, capitalistic company intent on slowly eroding every facet of our culture. Sky has already ruined football; it cannot be allowed to ruin bond too.

As I noted here, the ACE centre in Oxford is closing due to government cuts. This is a place which does vital work with kids with communication problems; it’s closure is nothing less than an abomination. Please sign this government petition to keep it open.

Something just happened. It’s hardly worth recording, yet I feel compelled to do so. I just caught this small video from Mark Kermode about the retrofitting of titanic into 3d. I totally agree with him, by the way – 3d is a waste of time and makes films worse – but that’s beside my point. At the end of the piece there’s a clip of titanic. For a fleeting moment – barely a fraction of a second – we see the old couple on their bed, hugging, waiting to drown. I’ve never been affected by such a sight before but today it felt like someone punched me in the chest. My mind went instantly to lyn, and I felt something I can’t describe – a desire to be that couple, to grow old with lyn, to curl up next to her forever. Yet it was a very sad thought somehow, and I felt like crying. How could something so short arouse so much emotion? Anyway, excuse mee while I go cuddle my fiancee.

My dad just popped down for a visit. As ever it was good to see him, and we discussed this and that. He mentioned my blog entry yesterday, and the comment Will left on Facebook that ” Its about the shattering of Victorian/Edwardian confidence in man’s ability to triumph over any adversity through industry and technology. Even more poignant now viewed in the context of the greater falls which followed…” Will is certainly right, but what dad said then struck me as both profound and fascinating, although he stressed the point had been made before elsewhere: in a way the titanic tragedy effected the Edwardians in the same way as 9/11 effected contemporary America. That is to say there was the same sense of shock and horror in response to the sinking of the titanic as here was in response to September 11; there was the same shattering of confidence, the same horrifying realisation that one is not invincible. I guess that is why the titanic is remembered, and why I have no doubt that 9/11 will be remembered for years. Both events have the same cultural impact. My grandma told the story of how her class was interrupted just as I remember where I was when I first heard about 9/11. Both events caused the same type of cultural trauma. The difference is that whereas one was caused by human error, the other was a deliberate act of barbarity.

I understand now why the sinking of the titanic still upsets people. It was the moment of our first great fall, the moment when we realised how powerless we really are, and which is indeed ” Even more poignant now viewed in the context of the greater falls which followed.”

Everyone keeps going on about the Titanic. I suppose it isn’t surprising, as it is the hundredth anniversary of the sinking after all. But, to be honest, it is getting rather annoying; everyone keeps calling it a mystery. What is mysterious about it? We know why it sank – it hit a goddamn iceberg! Given hat there have been bigger and more tragic sinking’s since then in terms of the loss of human life, why is it the sinking of this ship specifically which plays such a big part in popular culture and mythology? Indeed, I remember going to see James Cameron’s film in 1997 and being absolutely blown away by it (I hadn’t yet been initiated into the subtleties of film studies). I also remember my grandma telling the story of how her mother, my great grandma, was at school one day in 1912 when her class was interrupted by someone to announce the sinking. Why does this ship have so much resonance? It seems to haunt people as much today as it did a century ago. Was it the loss of life, or the irony of the fact that a ship said to be unsinkable sank on it’s maiden voyage? That is where the mystery lies for me – what is it about this ship and this story which haunts us so much even after so much time?

I came across the following image about two weeks ago. Under it, some idiot had written ”Reminds me of a disabled child”. I was so Incensed that I decided to make this short film. Apologies for the sound quality, but I think the action makes what I’m trying to say clear enough. Thanks are due to gary, Charlton’s forgemaster, for his fork-twisting help; to lyn for trying to fix the sound; to Laura for her acting skills and to her boyfriend Dario for standing in as a cameraman.

ADDENDUM: an updated version of the film, with better sound, can now be viewed here

I am hoping with all my strength that this is not the hoax I suspect it to be. Daniel Craig will apparently help open the London Olympics later this year in character as James Bond, following a personal invitation from the Queen. If it is true – and, let’s face it, we’ve all heard hoaxes like this before – it is, for me, the coolest thing since the invention of the martini itself. What a better tribute to all things british? This is certainly a story I’ll be keeping an eye on. Oh please let it be true! [spastic squeal of excitement and mirth]

I became very angry when I was writing my blog entry yesterday, but that is noting compared to how pissed off I am today. I heard lat last night that the ACE centre in oxford is closing. The ace centre helps kids with communication aids, and does vital work in enabling kids to communicate. It’s closure will effect people living in Oxfordshire, Hampshire, Surrey, Sussex, Kent, Bedfordshire, Devon and Guernsey, preventing them from having access to equipment they vitally need. It had to close when the government stopped it’s funding due to the cuts. I know no words to convey my sadness at this news, nor any to convey my anger at a government that would allow this to happen. There is no justification for denying children their right to speak. Click here for the full story.

I just popped on the telly to catch up on the news while I drank my mid-morning coffee. David CaMoron was giving a speech in the city, launching his idea for the big-society bank. Never have I heard more erroneous crap, and never have I become angry more quickly. Up until that point I was in a reasonably good mood – the sun is shining here in Charlton – but as soon as I heard CaMoron spouting his usual bollocks about the advantages of the private sector and charity over the state sector, and speaking as if it was just ‘common sense’, I flew into a rage.

Let’s cut the crap. The reason why the Tories want to reduce the state sector is ultimately so they can cut taxes. We’ve already seen them handing out tax cuts to the mega-rich, which at a time when benefits and care budgets are being slashed, is something I see as no less than criminal. CaMoron never really admits to his real reasons for his big society idea; he cannot be idiotic enough to truly believe in the old capitalist myth that competition drives up standards, and that stuff will improve when deregulated. He thinks that things like personal assistance and care should be handled by charities rather than the state, not because charities are somehow better at it but in order to enable the state to wash their hands of people like me. He expects us crips to accept hand-outs from some charity and be grateful, rather than supporting us through the state like dignified human beings. If things like personal care, and for that matter healthcare and education, are run by the state, the prime motive is to increase standards; if such things are run privately, their prime motive becomes profit, corners are cut and the wellbeing of service users becomes a means to an end rather tan the end in itself. This is not about saving money – he is, after all, spending six hundred million on this asinine idea – but the general repositioning of those who rely on state services in society.

I refuse to see myself as a charity case; I refuse to be patronized, rendered into some untermensch while CaMoron satisfies his rich friends. I am a member of society, and need support from the state which is an extension of that society. I refuse to let this unelected Tory shite split up state-run, coordinated support systems, replacing them with a loose network of charities in a hair-brained scheme which is just a fig-leaf for Victorian Lessez-faire philosophy. This scheme is founded on selfishness, elitism and greed, and to see CaMoron try to palm it off as something noble and altruistic makes me very angry indeed. The big society is no more than the justification of greed, intolerance and selfishness; platitudinous bulshit to salve the consciousnesses of the rich while they smile as they pay less tax; and the green light for condescending charities to think they are doing good as they feed cripples strapped to their beds gruel. I refuse to let him continue with this harmful, intolerant scheme.

I am starting to think that chopper is, more or less, a male version of Charlie. Okay, chopper might be slightly less pretty than Charlie, but his zest for life reminds me very much of my old university friend – the share the same kind of spontaneity, and the feeling that, around them, you never quite know what is going to happen.

What happened yesterday is a case in point. I was just settling in to a slow, lazy Sunday afternoon at home – I’d even checked what time Time Team was on – when our doorbell rang. It was Chopper, and he had come to, as he puts it, ‘kidnap me’. He had a mind to go somewhere in his car, although at that moment he didn’t quite know where. Those are, of course, the best sort of trip, so off we went, convincing chopper’s wife Ange to come too – it’s always a good idea to take someone sensible, just in case..

We headed out of London, south into kent. It felt good to see the fields again, and the countryside down there is beautiful. The only downside to it was that Lyn was not there to enjoy it with me, but Chopper’s car is too small for all of us and our two wheelchairs. Besides, I knew that she would be perfectly happy doing her music in her studio, and that this was a bit of a Lad’s afternoon out. Mind you, I think she will definitely be coming next time.

We decided to head for the seaside. We went to a town Chopper knew, but which I have forgotten the name of, and headed for the amusement arcade. There I did something I had never done before, but something which I seriously want to do again: I drove a dodgem! Holy crap that thing was cool. I used to think that wheelchairs are fun to drive, but that was nothing compared to a dodgem car. As chopper helped me out of the car, I tried to say, in my best Will Smith impression ”I have GOT to get me one of these!’

We then headed down to the beach. I don’t think I had been on a beach since I went to Newquay with my university friends. Chopper suggested I take my shoes and socks off and go wading, so I did. I walked deeper and deeper into the breakers, only to suddenly fall on my arse and soak my back. Laughing his head off, Chopper got me up, and we decided to start heading home. It had been an amazing, if slightly random, day, and time was getting on anyway. I got home a bit drier, rather tired, covered in the kebab I’d tried to eat in the car, but, above all, dying to drive a dodgem car again.

I am not sure I should announce this right now, but Lyn and I are immigrating to new Zealand. We have decided that London is too crowded, big and dull. There we hope to find a nice big house in Wellington. The best part is, we have already found jobs there: I received an email from New Line cinema last night saying that Peter Jackson himself had read some of my writing and was keen for me to come to work for him. I know that does not necessarily mean the hobbit, but he alluded to the rumours about him making the next star trek film, which will apparently have both Patrick Stewart and Sean Connery in. I haven’t broken this new to my beloved Lyn yet; I sometimes find writing things in blogs is the best way to do so. But I really hope she says yes.

Is it just me or has British politics gone crazy this week? We have been busy the last two days – to be honest it has been a busy week altogether – so I have not had chance to keep as up to date as I usually like to. Lyn and I got home yesterday evening to hear some kind of controversy about Cornish pasties and storing petrol in your garage. Why on earth has the government decided to tax pasties? Indeed, have they, or have I misheard something? Surely I have misheard it, as no government could be that random. Why pasties rather than, say, pizza? And what is that kerfuffle about petrol? What minister in their right mind would advise people to store petrol in their garage? I heard today that woman seriously injured following that advice, yet francis maude, the MP who gave it, refuses to resign. This is absurd.

As I say, Lyn and I have been quite busy of late; glancing at the news, I have half a mind to stay busy and ignore all this bollox. Besides, it now seems that Lyn and I have much to look forward to, but let’s just say I’ll have to leave you to guess at what such things might be for now.

I have a feeling today and tomorrow are going to be rather busy, so while I have time, I’d just like to send you all here. It’s a brilliant website about New Wave Film: I stumbled onto it yesterday when I was looking for a definition of Hitchcockio-Hawksian. I haven’t had chance to explore it in any depth yet, but what I saw of it yesterday made me nostalgic for Alan’s office back at uni, being surrounded by books about people like Godard and Trufault. If you’re properly into film, this site is a good one.

Now though, It’s time to get cracking. The New–Wave will have to wait.

Rarely if ever do I agree with the daily Mail. I usually see it as the paper of bigots who think themselves too posh to read the News Of The World. After all, it has the idiot Peter Hitchens writing for it. but this article is one I think I need to link to. It clearly and chillingly spells out the effect the government’s reforms will have for people with disabilities. It doesn’t make comfortable reading for me at all; scanning through it, I gulped in fear for the future for me and my fiancee. Times like this depressions – tend to hit people like me and lyn hardest. When rancid pro-tory rags like the daily mail start questioning the government’s policies, it’s a clear sign that folk like us should be very, very concerned.

I just have a tv programme to flag up today. I recently had a couple of ideas which I’m keen to get working on, including a video involving forks, but I’ll write more about those in due course. Last night Lyn and I watched a very interesting, and somewhat inspiring, programme called ‘We won’t drop the Baby’ on bbc1. It was about comedian Lawrence Clark and his wife and their newborn second son. Both parents have CP, thus giving rise to the title of the show. They both appear to be excellent parents, and despite a moment when I almost shouted at the screen ”For fuck’s sake get a PA to do it”, when Mr. Clark was trying to change the baby, it is clear that they would never let their child come to harm. Thus I thought it was a reasonably good bit of television, showing that we crips can be parents too. I must admit, though, that it made me wonder whether I could be a daddy too one day, and I think it made Lyn Broody as well, but in reality I have long known that is a moot point for various reasons.

Anyway, time to turn my attention to forks.

Not having much else to write about tonight, other than to note the fact that Lyn and I just watched avatar (excellent film, even if it is slightly anti-disability in parts), I think I’ll just direct you here. It really did amuse me to hear that, after a young lady from Kazakhstan won a shooting competition, the spoof Kazakh national anthem from the film Borat was played by mistake. I bet there were a few red faces when they realised that they were playing a song written by a british comedian. I’ve yet to hear what Sasha Baron-cohen himself thinks about this, but I suspect he’s as tickled as the rest of us, apart from the Kazakh shooting team,, of course.

Thanks to my brother and webmaster Luke, the glitch in my website is now fixed. It apparently occurred when the website hosting company changed hands. I can, at last, print the picture I wanted to yesterday.

[img description=”undefined image” align=”centre”]/images/birthday photo.jpg[/img]

Glorious, isn’t it? I’m now happy, so in honour of that, and to commemorate the fact that this being entry number 2222, as in tutu tutu, I think I’ll post a link to this again, too!

Despite the sun, today is fast turning out to be a pretty fraught day, not least because I just had my first dental appointment in two years. To cheer myself up a bit, then, I thought I would show you a picture taken on my birthday up in Congleton on sunday. It was a picture of me, lyn, my mum and dad and our PA John sitting on or next to a sofa in the conservatory. That was a truly special day for me, the day I finally took Lyn ‘home’, and the memory of it, I think, is going to be enough to brighten the gloomiest of my days for quite some time – even those involving dentists. Only, due to the bug my website seems t have contracted, I can’t seem to post pictures. It will have to wait for me to reprint it here, and You’ll have to take my word for it. Mind you, it just demonstrates the power of a good photo to cheer one up, and as good old Roland Barthes observed, photos can only do this on a personal level. That is to say, a photo hat means so much to me wouldn’t mean much to anyone else. In that respect, I suppose it is a good thing I can’t reprint it here, as it means I have to describe the impact it has on me, which is much better blogging than me lazily reprinting an image. It also forces me to reflect on the image and why I like it, which makes it all the sweeter.