It has been quite a cool little day. I attended a meeting at school. I can’t go into much detail, but they want me to act as a sort of rolemodel for one boy in particular – a voca user who often seems reluctant to participate and rather insecure. He just needs to be shown what is possible, I think.

Today is also my brother’s twenty-fourth birthday. Happy birthday Luke. I don’t get to see him much these days, but I’m sure we’ll talk on skype soon.

Something rather cute happened today at school. It was only very small, and hardly blogworthy really. I was going down one of the corridors, on my way to class, where I overheard one child say to a staff member ”is he the cheverest man ever?” I think the boy had thought I was Stephen hawking. I know I look nothing like professor Hawking, and if you want a physicist you’ve got the wrong Goodsell, but I was very flattered, as well as being rather amused. I take it as a sign the kids look up to me, and feel rather encouraged by it. I really hope I can make a positive difference in school.

In other news, Lyn, as predicted, is now right as rain. Yay!

Poor Lyn is ill. I think she has what I had on Saturday, which hopefully means it’ll clear up soon, but right now she looks severely under the weather. She spent most of today in bed. I feel bad because I don’t know what to do; I whish I could help but I don’t know how. I want to be useful. Luckily, Dan, our PA, is proving to be quite a good nurse, but I guess one of the suckiest things about CP is that you can’ help the girl you love get better.

What a surprise! The lady in charge of the national bullying hotline has, this afternoon, asked Max Clifford to represent her; she obviously thinks she is heading for stardom. She probably would be, if the allegations concerning Brown’s bullying were true. The thing is, they aren’t; nor are they even new. They stem from a book written about two years ago, and one which has been refuted by the persons it claims to quote.* The thing is, guess who told the media about this? who told the bbc the bullying hotline had been called by someone in the civil service. The Tories! Can you believe it. Then Dave CaMoron comes on the box and, in his most even, reasonable-sounding tone calls for an enquiry ‘just so the government can clear all this up’, even though he knows full well that such an inquiry is both totally unnecessary and would be suicide this close to the election. The insincerity of CaMoron – the way he makes lies and ploys sound reasonable – absolutely sicken me. *bbc interview with John Prescot yesterday

I met the headmaster of Charlton park school yesterday. I was a bit intimidated at first, but he quickly put me at ease, telling me of his young sons and exercise regime. Nice fellow – I’m not sure why I was so worried. He mentioned a bit of the school’s history. I got the impression that it was quite long and varied, dating back to the nineteenth century. I’ll have to look into that.

I’m also getting a flavour for local history, too: the other day, John, a friend from round the corner, mentioned that a church once stood nearby, and our house is built on a graveyard. He also said they used to hang people somewhere near here. He told us this on the way home from the pub, which meant it slightly freaked me out. Anyway, I’ll have to look into it later, for I have school soon.

I feel better – much better. Yesterday I felt like crap; I felt like I was dying, almost enough to feel a twang of homesickness. My neighbours had a bug this week, and I think I caught it Friday evening. So yesterday I took it easy, drinking lots and not eating much. A conversation over skype with my brother Luke dealt with the homesickness (thanks bro). This morning, however, I woke up feeling fine – well enough to get worked up at the observer’s bull about Gordon Brown, and at the Tories’ most recent scheme to buy votes. There is nothing like a bit of indignation to clear one’s system.

Let me preface this by saying I’m not an economist, or much good at maths, but I was just thinking about economics. As we know, Labour say we need a slow and steady recovery, whereas the Tories say we need to act now and cut spending. Sixty top economists have today issued a letter in the financial times backing labour’s strategy, whereas only twenty wrote to the Sunday Times backing the Tories’. Now, I have a few points to make. First, 60 is larger than 20; second, the financial times is fairly independent, but the Sunday times is owned by Rupert Murdoch, cheer-leader in chief of the Tory party. Moreover, as we all know, to cut spending now, as the Tories say, would threaten what little recovery we have made – it is almost as if they want the economy to fail, and for us to go back into recession. Of course this would be perfect for them; they could then say brown ruined the economy and hence win the election.

In other words, they are playing politics with the economy; putting their lust for power before our economic well-being. They want a double dip as they would benefit from it. Makes you sick, doesn’t it?

For several weeks Lyn has been working on a new track, called echoes of the past. She finished it yesterday, and posted it to her myspace page. She uses her mac to compose, so I got to hear her build the piece layer by layer. It was a remarkable experience, but I must say I’m blown away by the finished piece. It’s fair to say I’m a very proud boyfriend. Anyway, go listen. Link

We just watched a film called Home on Youtube. I just picked it at random, pretty much, but it turned out to be an absolutely stunning videoessay on climate change and the impact of man on the planet. It is absolutely beautifully shot – I think it was entirely composed of aerial photography – yet, more than anything, it scares me witless. Particularly frightening is the rate at which we’re running out of drinking water.

Anyone with any intelligence can see that man is causing severe damage to the planet, and that we must act now. Part of that action is to acknowledge our responsibility, and to stop hiding behind statistics. It angers me that some people do not believe in climate change – to me such people must surely rank alongside creationists, and deserve only scorn and ridicule,. Unfortunately, such people happen to bee the ones best places to solve the problem, which probably means we’re all doomed.

Anyway, if you can, go look up Home on youtube movies. Link

This has nothing to do with being a cripple, and most of you will probably already know about it, but a night or two ago Lyn and I realised there are entire films on youtube. Lyn pointed it out. What makes this cool for me is, Lyn has her big TV hooked up to her computer, so it’s just like watching films normally. The other night we watched a film called ‘Fired’ which was about being fired, appropriately enough. I know I can’t expect blockbusters to appear on there, but there are some classics like His Girl Friday. What’s more, it’s especially cool if you can’t physically handle DVDs and your PA has gone home. See – I knew there was a disability link in there somewhere.

I have a new book. two, actually. We went to Lewisham yesterday as me and Lyn booth needed to get each other gifts for today. We took the bus: I got there first as you can only have one wheelchair on a bus at a time. The funny thing is, by the time Lyn and kasia caught up with me, I’d already bought my gift for Lyn. This left me free time, as I couldn’t follow Lyn around, for obvious reasons.

I popped into the Works. I don’t usually like the works as they sell coffee-table, populist books rather than the more discursive, academic texts one might find in other book stores. However, yesterday I was in luck: I stumbled upon a Readers’ Guide to JRR Tolkien – two thick volumes in a box. £70 knocked down to a tenner – a bargain.

It’s been a while since I considered Tolkien. As I have aged, I suppose I’ve followed the academic herds in dismissing his works as simplistic fairy tails. At the same time, I find the concept that there are far-right wing political themes in Tolkien unsettling, largely because I can see their point. However, yesterday I decided I would give Tolkien another chance; I’d like to investigate the arguments and discussions around him; to look at him with the same mentality I acquired at university. After we got in last night I had a cursory glance online for papers about Tolkien and politics, and I wasn’t disappointed: writers are now reassessing Tolkien, defending him from accusations of parochialism, anti-urbanism, and so on. To be honest, I have missed such debates. Yesterday’s trip, it seems, was quite fruitful.

It is turning out to be a slow, lazy kind of day. Me and Lyn both overdid it last night: we were having a bit of a celebration as I had had a bit of good news. The school I volunteer at run an event on AAC technology every year, and it seems they want me to be involved. They want to project manage some of the logistics, for which they said they would pay me. This Lyn and I thought cause for celebration, so we had fish and chips with champagne.

I had no school today, so we had a lie in. breakfast became lunch, and after that I flopped out on the sofa. This gave us a chance to watch Dancing on Wheels. Interesting programme: rather like strictly come dancing but with cripples. Interestingly, I noticed all of the cripples were the non-congenital type, and there were no spazzies! It’s a pity: I would be ace on that programme, I reckon. I once won a wheelchair dancing competition when I was 17. All you need to do to win is put your legs over the side of your chair and hurtle around like a maniac. Easy.

I would like to return to a point I made in an entry last week. I said that CaMoron wants to do what Blair did in 97. in fact I think he wants, in a way, to be Blair: we see him presenting himself as a fresh-faced figure, using lots of hand gestures and short sentences. I reckon, if you compared the two men’s styles, both in oration and how they conduct themselves, you’d find the two very similar.

My point is this: what other proof do you need that CaMoron is a sham? He’s obviously latched onto Blair’s successful formula and thinks he can dupe the country into electing him. His is a screen, a mask, behind which lies the same old outdated conservative values. Blair was liberal and open; CaMoron speaks of austerity and a return to rigidness. While I do agree with some of his points and think hip a good speaker, I think he uses lessons learned from Blair to repackage an ideology of class division and the repression of the poor.

Immitations are never as good as the real thing.

Why do head teachers still scare me? They always did, as a kid: to me they were this stern, powerful figure of authority – something to be respected, avoided and feared. Of course, good little cripple that I was, I rarely had to see my headmaster, although I think he was involved that time I cracked my head open trying to ride my walker down the mound.

Yesterday, though, Katherine, the person I work with in my ‘job’, proposed introducing me to the headmaster of the school where I’m working. This is, of course, a good idea, and initially I thought nothing of it. Yet this morning I felt a slight pang of nervousness; I wondered whether I looked respectable. They were similar pangs I felt to the ones I used to feel when going to see a professor at uni. Part of me felt like a small kid again. As it turned out, the headmaster was busy, so our introduction will have to wait. But I still feel nervous.

We went bowling today. Lyn suggested it, and, not having been bowling in ages, I thought it sounded like fun. Lyn won; of course, gentleman that I am, I let her win, just like I let her win the chess game we had in Amsterdam. (persons wanting to dispute this are reminded that they have their own blogs!).

After bowling, I was thirsty. The atmosphere at the bowling ally was so dry, I just needed a coke, so we went to a nearby pub. We took a seat, and we noticed that there was football on. However, I then noticed who was playing – we had stumbled into the local derby! The pub was on two levels, but there was a large screen behind the bar which one could see from both floors. Chelsea supporters were on the upper balcony, arsenal supporters were downstairs. However I got a bit worried what if either team scored? What if a brawl broke out? Would we be able to defend ourselves? I was a bit concerned, and rather excited – we were inn a south London pub for the local derby: it was quite an interesting sociological phenomenon.

As it turned out, neither team scored while we were at the pub, and everybody left quietly. It was quite a cool little outing, though. I’m really enjoying my new life here.

I know that I’m repeating myself, and that I blogged about this the other day, but I’m still very concerned about the stuff about assisted suicide. It isn’t that I’m against suicide per se – I believe anyone should be able to make such a decision – but what worries me is where legalising such acts might lead. It kind of sends out the message that the lives of people with disabilities are somehow worthless, and that we’re all itching to top ourselves. I also worry that it opens the door to some very dark possibilities – what if people start assuming you want to die? What if you can’t communicate your wishes properly? I may be being paranoid, but we may be starting down a slippery slope to some very dark things.

I realised yesterday, with great astonishment, that my friend Hugh Jones – brother of Charlie – lives in new cross. To be fair, C had mentioned it before, but yesterday with the aid of google maps I found out where new cross was: it’s practically within spitting distance of Charlton. I found a poster on Facebook concerning Hugh performing at a pub there, so I looked it up. I was kicking myself, as, if I’d seen it the day before, we could have gone to watch Hugh.

The reason I was looking Hugh up was, the night before, Lyn dan and I were talking about the music industry. Lyn is a musician, and a damn good one at that: she composes using her mac. She is really eager to make it in the music industry, so I suggested she meet Hugh, who now works for the ministry of sound. Now all I have to do is organise a way for them to meet, Lyn will get a record deal, and I’ll be rich! Easy!

A strange thing occurred to me the other day: that, despite it all, despite the absence of WMD and the horrendous loss of life, I still trust Tony Blair more than I do David CaMoron. I think it’s because of what Blair once was: a bastion of hope, a fresh face; the person who ended 18 years of misery under the Tories. I was watching him at the chilcot enquiry, and I thought, ”this man lied to us, yet I still trust him more than CaMoron. Why?”

I think it’s because Blair is genuine – CaMoron isn’t. Blair had firm convictions, and has stood by them. He honestly thought he was acting for the greater good. All I see when I look at CaMoron is an act: a shallow, hollow attempt to present himself and his party as reasonable and delectable. The other day I saw a poster with CaMoron’s face and the words ”are we Blair yet?” I thought it hit the nail on the head: CaMoron is hoping to do what Blair did in 97. He goes around trying to tell people that Britain is broken, when in fact it is doing rather well. We’ve just come out of the worst recession in living memory relatively unscathed, thanks largely to brown; unemployment is also lower than it might have been. In short, the last 13 years have been a period of prosperity, and for CaMoron and his brainless minions to go around pretending otherwise is just plain wrong. I’ve spoken to Tories who would have you believe the recession was caused by brown.. How can anyone believe such demonstrably untrue bullshit? In fact it was only because of brown that this country didn’t hit a 1920s-style depression, yet the Tories intend to lie and cheat their way into government by any means. And that’s why I still trust blair more than CaMoron.

There is a small voice in the back of my head which screams the word ‘hypocrite’ every time I go into school. I still think I can make a difference there, and I still think it is a good thing to do. Yet there was a time when I was appalled at the very existence of special schools, and I still think most of the arguments I heard in those days are essentially valid.

Inclusion must proceed where at all possible; I do not think many people would argue with that. But where vulnerable children are involved, idealism must give way to pragmatism. Part of the reason why I’m going into school is to better educate myself on the other side of the debate. I must admit the situation is far more complex than I must thought, and I can see why some kids need the settled environment a special school provides. Yet, other times, I look at kids and think ‘why aren’t they in mainstream?’ this is not an argument one can afford to be dogmatic about, and I’m yet to draw any final conclusions.I am starting to come to the opinion that inclusion can proceed, but elements of segregation must be retained.

The less said about the events of today the better. Let’s just say I haven’t seen that many self-obsessed pretentious teenagers since college, and let me remind Lyn that I still love her. Perhaps she should go here.

Today I had my first speech therapy lesson in over ten years. Well, it wasn’t really my lesson, as I wasn’t a student; more like a participant. I don’t think, however, that they’ve changed much: the aim of speech therapy, as far as I can gather, is to get one to communicate as much as possible. So, in my day, Mrs hickson and I used mostly to sit and talk, often about books. Today we played a version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? It was rather slow going – we were working with one boy who seems to be a reluctant communicator.

I’m already finding volunteering at school very rewarding. At the mo, I only go in for a couple of hours every two or three days, but I get the same kind of buzz I got from Onevoice – the buzz which comes with the feeling that you might be making a difference.

The subject of Islamic dress has cropped up again, and as uusual I found myself in two minds. Now, you all know my stance on clothing in general: people should be allowed to wear whatever they want. Hence Lyn and I have two tutus hanging on the wardrobe door in our bedroom!

But what about the burka or hijab? Naturally, if some people choose to wear them, Muslim or otherwise, it’s their choice. The only reservation I have is a practical one: in places where one’s face needs to be seen for identification, I think people should be obliged to take the head covers off. I guess this should also apply to things like hockey masks and zentai suits. Mind you, it also occurred to me that such clothing might be useful if one intended to break the law. But this is no reason to ban the things. In Japan and other places, people are increasingly going out in public in zentai suits where they are seen as figures of curiosity and fun; in a way it’s a form of performance art, something like having a life-sized plasticine figure walking down the street. If I have no objection to that, how could I possibly object to people wearing the veil?

In other words, while I can see the disadvantages to veils on the practical level, my urge to tolerate and celebrate diversity must win out: people should be able to wear what they want. But now we get to the really problematic bit: is it really a choice? In my more facetious moments, I sometimes think that, if it’s just about covering up, why don’t women wear zentai suits instead of veils? But that would defeat the point of trying to desexualise women’s bodies; I guess the point of veils is in part to prevent men from seeing women as sexual objects. But I sometimes think veils – especially the big black ones – objectify women in other ways. It denotes gender, making it impossible to see the person inside. You can’t see that person as an individual, but just as ‘a woman’, in a way, especially if there is a group of women in such veils. I sometimes see women wearing such things when I’m out with Lyn; having only just moved to London, I must admit to still feeling a little scared by the sight. On the other hand, you can say exactly the same about zentai suits: they can be said to turn people into objects, removing their identity; and some people are indeed scared by them.

Yet, as an atheist, I also worry that women are forced to wear veils and denied the freedom to wear what they want. Problem is, how can you tell whther they are given a choice – many Muslim women argue they chose to wear the veil to show their religious identity, in which case it is prescribed to them and, paradoxically not a choice. If this is so, then the difference between the full veil and the zentai suit is that one connotes fun and freedom, the other is repressive. The whole debate rests on whether it is a choice.

I fear I might be rambling here: I’m talking about things I might not fully understand, so I’ll leave it there.

I just came across this link, which I think you should all go watch. It’s another perspective on what I was blogging about yesterday, and one with which I totally agree. I’d like to dismiss such people as reactionary and paranoid, yet I cannot for I know they are right. There is an inherent danger in assuming some lifes aren’t worth living.

Btw, the person in the bandanna is Claire/Dennis, whom I have mentioned here before.

I was just watching the news. I’ve had quite a good day: I went into school to help with an ICT session. We’re starting to figure out my exact role there, but the staff seem rather eager for me to help. Anyway, I was watching the news item on the court case of the mum who killed her daughter who had ME.

I know I’ve blogged about this before, possibly more than once, but it still worries me. Of course, people have a right to do what they want, even kill themselves, but I worry that some person would take advantage of this case? Say someone is caring for a severely disabled person who can’t communicate, and decides they’ve had enough? they might claim that the person being looked after wants to end their life when they don’t. of course, there will always be ways of communicating – even wiggling one’s toe can form the basis of a system of communication – but my point is that this can be abused. Disability history is littered with abuses like this. I mean, how do we know such people really want to die? What if they lack the cognitive capacity to make such a decision, and are being coerced into doing so? It would be seen as condescending to have one rule for people with learning disabilities on this, and another for those without. Thus this ruling opens up a huge moral can of worms, and I feel rather uncomfortable about it.

I went exploring again today. Again, I tried to find the dome and again I failed. You’d think that it wouldn’t be hard to find, wouldn’t you? It’s big and ugly and looks like a huge white spot. But no! this time, though, I went along the previously mentioned Shooters Hill road and found the royal observatory? How incredible is that? I went in and took a look – it’s free! I didn’t do a very thorough tour, but it was amazing to see things like the ancient telescopes. I also wondered over the Greenwich meridian almost without noticing.

From there I went down the hill, to the national maritime museum. I have an affinity for ships and boats, but couldn’t find an accessible entrance. I was going to go further, but I noticed my battery had dropped a few bars, so I headed home. Next I’m going to figure out the busses, and maybe the tube; then virtually the whole of London will be my playground!

And I will find the damn dome one day.

I should probably have typed this up yesterday, but by the time I got in I was knackered. Even just three hours at school wore me out; I don’t know where my teacherfriends get their energy. Nevertheless, they want me to go back there on Monday afternoon, so I must have been doing something right.

I encountered quite a few things off extreme interest yesterday afternoon, but there isn’t much I’d want to put on here, not at this point anyway. They had the kids interview me for school radio, which was rather fun. One of the kids on the radio team seemed to be a born entertainer. They also showed me around the school: it is bigger and more laberynthine than Hebden, and very impressive. Yet it had the same ‘feel’ as Hebden – that special school feel I can’t describe. An oxymoronic feeling.

I’m looking forward to going back there on Monday. I just want to help, and I think the staff think I can be a positive rolemodel for the kids. Who knows – maybe I can teach them a few things.

I am now an urbanite. Well, kind of. For all my life I’ve lived in the country: the housing estate where I grew up – indeed, where I was born – backs onto fields. Three minutes driving in my chair would bring me to lanes and hedgerows and the smell of manure. Every day, growing up, my trip to school took me past fields full of cattle, sheep, or crops.

Yet now, I’m surrounded by miles of concrete and tarmac. I’m not complaining about this: in fact the prospect of exploring London excites me; but I find it odd to reflect on the fact that, for the first time in my life, I’m living in a place without a field or tractor in site. Even alsager campus was surrounded by farmland.

I’ve already taken my first steps into my latest brave new world. I’ve been making trips to the local shop and back, but the other day, armed with an electric door key so I could let myself back in, I set off on my first real voyage of exploration. We’re reasonably near the O2 arena, so I decided I’d try to find that. Lyn gave me directions, but I must have taken a wrong turn as I couldn’t find a pub I knew I needed to pass. Interestingly for history buffs, I did find Shooters hill road, which was strategically significant during world war two as it would have been the road the Germans would have taken into central London had they invaded.

Anyway, this afternoon we’re off to the shops – I need more cash – and tomorrow I start a voluntary post at a local school. I’ll let you guys know how I get on, and whether I see any cows.

this is just a quick blog to say that I’m safe and well in charlton. The last few days have been largely uneventful. I’m settling in okay; dad dropped my PC off this morning, as well as other essentials. I get the feeling todday just might be the first day of the rest of my life.

I am in two minds about blogging anything today. Tomorrow I begin my move to Lyn’s. all being well, I’ll live with her permanently, which means tonight is my last night living here. I was born here, in this house, so it’s kind of an odd feeling. It is, at one and the same time, both sad and exciting. I don’t want to reflect on it too much, so I’ll just send you here – it’s one of my favourite songs, and today it seems a good choice.

It is probably lazy of me to do this two days in a row, but I must say that this is probably the most inspiring bits of writing I’ve read in quite some times. It’s written by Clair Lewis, probably one of the leading lights of the disability rights movement. She writes how it takes courage to ‘be our best selves’, and not to bow to social pressures and simply be good little cripples. As I’ve written before, part of the reason why I love Lyn so much is because she has done just that: she had the courage to become the person she believes herself to be, not for any quazi-political reason, but because she refused to let social pressures get in her way. Lyn’s might be an extreme example, but to a lesser extent most disabled people feel a certain amount of pressure to conform to what society expects of us – to be meek and mild crips grateful for being allowed to live at all. We must overcome this feeling; we must stick up for ourselves, and show our true colours. Only then can equality be attained.

I have been reading steve graby’s site throughout today. I met steve a month or two ago, but have only just started reading his blog. While I disagree with some of what he writes – he can be too radical sometimes – most of what he writes is fascinating. His stuff on gender in particular made me think, and I like the notion of being nongendered or gender-neutral particularly interesting. This is not the same as actively crossing gender boundaries, but simply not associating with either gender, in a way approaching my stance on gender from the other end. While I like to negate the gender binary by crossing male/female lines (dressing up as a woman) he negates it simply by not recognising it. Anyway go here.

I caught dave CaMoron on the Andrew Marr Show earlier. Truth is, he doesn’t seem such a bad fellow – a nice approachable family man who used to play footie with chris evans. I also like the fact that he supports both the BBC and NHS, the two finest institutions of their kind in the world. Yet what I find unpalatable about the conservatives these days is that underneath the charm and spin lie the same old rigid values that have always been the hallmark of conservatism. On Friday I explored how liberalism is, from certain points of view, inherently contradictory: if you take it too far it actually becomes illiberal and intolerant. However, I didn’t mean this as a criticism of the philosophy: bearing such things in mind is an integral part of liberalism itself.

I think this is where it contrasts with conservatism as I perceive it. Whereas liberalism has the ability to perceive it’s own contradictions, conservatism is too rigid and dogmatic, especially in it’s American form. To conservatives, concepts like right and wrong are absolutes rather than subjective constructs. Hence we hear CaMoron talking about things like the family and austerity – his own pre-conceived ideals. Tories hold such things to be good, when in fact A) they are idealistic constructs and

B) there are many good examples of such things being repressive or destructive. The problem is, conservatism, unlike liberalism, cannot acknowledge the fact that it can be wrong.

I have been thinking a lot recently about liberalism, and what it means to be liberal. To me it means having an open mind, and being tolerant of different people and lifestyles. I like to think of myself as a rather liberal, open minded person – I think that, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else, physically or otherwise, people should be allowed to do as they please. This, of course, stems from my belief that there is no such thing as ‘normal’, so any lifestyle is just as valid as any other.

This, on the face of it, seems a pretty simple philosophy. Yet, if you think aabout it, there are a few little inconsistencies and contradictions. How far can you take it? What, exactly, is harm? On YouTube one can find videos of all kinds of people: for instance, that’s where I found out about Jazz, a 7 year old girl who was born a boy, or Kim Petras, the worlds youngest post-operative transsexual. I view such phenomena in a positive light: although others may have reservations about such cases, transitioning between the genders has obviously made these young people happier, so I think it cool that they have been allowed to become the people they want to be. Needless to say, the same applies to my girlfriend. If living as the opposite gender, or in whatever lifestyle you want, makes you happy, then I say go for it.

But on the other hand, YouTube also has video clips of a girl who weighs 400 pounds, or rather used to before her diet. I must admit I feel pretty sickened at the fact that this girl was allowed to get so obese. One must ask yourself, however, what is the difference? Why is one behaviour okay, and another not? The girl in question claims she was addicted to food, implying that she was not in full control of her eating just as Jazz and Miss Petras did not decide to be transgender. Further, she obviously found happiness in eating, just as kim, jazz and Lyn find happiness in being who they are. Why is one behaviour right and another wrong? Of course, being so fat was causing her real problems: she was unable to walk due to her weight, and her heart was under aa great deal of strain. But one could also say there are substantial medical and social risks in transitioning too; and one can also point out, as a disabled person, that the ability to walk is not as great a thing as others might want one to believe. So why is one behaviour (at least nominally) condoned by society, but another condemned?

Those were, admittedly, two rather obscure examples, but my point is that there are contradictions which those that call themselves liberal must contend with. I’ve been thinking about islam recently, and indeed faith in general. I like to think that the UK is a pretty tolerant place where people from all over the world can come and find a safe haven. I don’t care what god you worship, or how you worship it. Yet what if a central principal of that worship actually contradicts that principal of tolerance? On YouTube (yes yes, I get most of my knowledge from YouTube these days) there are videos of people who apparently want to impose sharia law in the UK, or at least have areas where sharia law is enforced. As I understand it, sharia law is pretty intolerant; it demands women wear the hijab, and involves brutal punishments, or at least punishments we would find brutal. It seems incompatible with western liberal democracy.* as a tranny, I think people should be allowed to dress as they please; I also suspect that most of the women I know would fiercely object to having to wear a veil. Moreover, sharia in it’s strictest form involves capital punishment, which I find utterly repugnant. Thus there is a conflict between respecting the right to worship and the need to ensure everyone is held to the same laws. I should add too that this issue is not localised to islam – in some areas, for example, orthodox jewish law prevails. To me, it makes no sense to have one set of rules for one set of people, and another for another; surely if everyone is equal, they everyone should be held to the same laws. Similarly, why should one issue be dealt with one way and accomodated, and another be condemned by society?

This is further complicated by my atheism. I do not believe in any god or gods, just in the evidence I am presented with. Part of me feels that religion is just another divisive factor and so should be done away with. The same principals which brought me to liberalism – those of equality, justice, and evidence-based judgements lead me to believe society should be secular. If there is no consensus of faith, then the government should be faithless; but this would lead us to a Dawkinsian stance of assuming religion is bad and wanting to do away with it, which strikes me as rather illiberal. Thus we have a paradox – in order to respect everyone’s faith, we should assume no faith is correct, but then what’s the point of faith?

These contradictions trouble me; they puzzle me. The very principles which bring me to liberalism show me its shortcomings. Yet this does not mean liberalism is wrong: on the contrary: Liberalism also means being forever mindful that nothing is ever black and white.

*however, some scholars have argued that English common law was originally inspired by Islamic law. ”It has been suggested by several scholars such as Professor John Makdisi, Jamila Hussain and Lawrence Rosen[23] that several fundamental English common law institutions may have been derived or adapted from similar legal institutions in Islamic law and jurisprudence, and introduced to England after the Norman conquest of England by the Normans, who conquered and inherited the Islamic legal administration of the Emirate of Sicily (see Arab-Norman culture), and ”through the close connection between the Norman kingdoms of Roger II in

Sicily – ruling over a conquered Islamic administration – and Henry II in England”.’ (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharia#English_common_law)

It snowed heavily last night, and I take it as a sign of old age that I am not overjoyed. In fact, it’s rather depressing. I need to get over to Crewe station to get my train ticket for London, but for the last two or three days that hasn’t been possible due to the snow. Of course, there was a time when I thought snow was wonderful stuff it meant days off school and snowball matches with my brothers. I remember trying to walk in it, half petrified of falling over, half eager to hit mark or Luke with a snowball. Indeed, Lyn has promised me a snowball match, and I’m more than willing to accept her challenge, yet I just whish some of it would clear so I can get to her. Until then, snow is just a damn nuisance.

This entry is a test to see if I can blog from this computer. I swapped machines over the weekend; my old computer – a trusty old warhorse I’ve been using since I started university – is now packed and ready to be taken to lyn’s. I should, with any luck, be blogging from there soon.

Looking back through the archive, it’s interesting to see how things have progressed, and how my attitudes have changed. For instance, I used to be pro-special schools, then, after meeting Becca and Katie, dead set against them. Now I feel I take a more cautious stance, as idealism must give way to pragmatism.

I’ve also tried to record the important things in my life – important events and happenings. Dad says this makes my site seem more of a diary than a blog. But I’d maintain that it’s important to present people with who I am; to show the world that a guy with c.p can be as active as anyone else, as foolish, as prone to boredom, or as selfish. I’ve just tried to bee honest, and to show the world who I am.

Well, when we manage to get a ticket, I’ll be off down to lyn’s, and the next chapter in my life will begin. I look forward to letting the world know how I’m getting on.

The decade turned rather dully for me I’m afraid. In the end I had to stay at my parents’, rather than going to Lyn’s for new year, and my parents don’t seem to celebrate new year. They were in bed before 12. oh well. Nevertheless, I’m excited at the prospect of the new year. What might 2010 bring? I start my trial period living with Lyn very soon – I’ve already started packing. When I’m there I hope to get a job. It seems I might finally be growing up.

Something tells me it’ll be a hell of a year. I can’t wait. Anyway happy new year everybody!

You know the truth is a funny thing. I’m sure we have all heard reports that china executed a British man for smuggling drugs into their country; of this there can be no doubt. But from that point on matters start to get rather vague: was it 4kg, or 20 he was carrying? Did the man have a mental disorder or not? According to a report I saw on the bbc yesterday, there was strong circumstantial evidence that he did, yet the Chinese authorities did not allow a psychologist to examine the guy. In this case, British condemnation of china’s actions is well founded. Foreign Office Minister Ivan Lewis told the chinese ambassador ”China had failed in its basic human rights responsibilities”. Yet the Chinese maintain they have done nothing but act according to their own laws, as is their right. To the Chinese, British criticism of this case is ”unreasonable”, and have urged the British to correct our mistake, lest it strain anglo-chinese relations. So, depending on who you believe, either a criminal got his due punishment yesterday, or a mentally ill man was murdered after a deeply flawed and unfair ‘trial’. I know who I’m siding with.

The house is quiet again. Both my brothers are still here, as is Yan, but most people have gone home. Let me say, before I say anything else, how impressed I am with my mum: having to contend with fourteen people around the place, cooking for them and cleaning up, must not have been easy. Yet my mum has taken it in her stride, preparing some truly delicious food and making sure everyone was happy.

It’s a little weird, though, having so many people around. Now, you know how I love a good party, but having a house full for several days was a bit of a strain for me, although not as much as I thought it would be. At times I didn’t know the best place to put myself, and I was very glad to be able to come up to my room for a break. That’s why I much prefer having such big family holidays at home. I think I’d have been far more tense and agitated if I couldn’t have come up here and chatted to Lyn for a while. As it happens, though, I could, and I was rather sorry to see half the family leave this morning. Mind you, I still have new years eve with my brother(s?) to look forward to, and pretty soon after that a trip to Lyn’s, so it’s still all go.

It has been a cool couple of days. The place has been packed; at mealtimes we have 12 people round the table, and tonight there’ll be 13, or even 14 if grandma joins us. It’s been really cool to see everyone, and I especially appreciate having the chance to catch up with my brothers. Mark and I have had some much needed chats – I needed the wisdom that only an older brother can impart. Luke, in his greatness, set up skype yesterday so I could chat to Lyn. It was bloody great to be able to talk face to face with my girlfriend.

I miss her quite a bit. Our house is not a place for wheelchairs, as I’ve been able to walk since I was little, so we didn’t need to move or adapt. This suits us, but it does mean that I can’t have Lyn come to stay, which is sad. Mark has Kat with him, and Luke has Yan of course, but my Lyn is not here. On the other hand, my cousins Cyril and Christina are here, but without Tom and Saran, so they’re probably feeling the same. Nevertheless, I could really do with a cuddle from Lyn right now, yet she and those deep, lovely eyes of her seem so far away.

I suppose I’ll see her soon, and in the mean time there are things to get on with round here, but every now and again it strikes me that there’s this extraordinary person who I love dearly, but who I can’t see or hold. And that thought hurts almost physically.

Something happened here last night which I don’t think has happened here in almost a decade. My brothers have come home for Christmas, but Kat and Yan were both aat their parents, so it was just the five of us. Since mark left for oxford back in 2000, each time he’s come home he’s had a girlfriend with him; I think the same more or less applies to Luke. So just having the five of us round our kitchen table is extremely rare.

But last night it happened. It felt so good to see my brothers there again, where they always sat when we were growing up. It gave me a warm, christmassey feeling, although the beer could have helped that. In a strange way, it felt like nothing had changed in all those years, although, of course, almost everything has. We’ve grown up; we each have beautiful partners, and our own lives. Yet what strikes me as special is that we are still a very close family; we still love each other deeply. Last night was something of an echo of the past, of my childhood, yet it reminded me that my family will always be there for me/

My future lies in south London. I think next year will be one of great change for me – it is time. Yet I am quite sure that I’ll always be welcome at the table down in the kitchen, as Mark and Luke are. Realising that last night has given m great strength.