While I am not contemplating anything as rash as voting for them, the Tories’ new stance on climate change is t be welcomed. It is, after all, one of the major issues of our age, and something my generation must face up to. I agree with him when Cameron says this s not a party-political issue, but something everyone must deal with.

I want to dismiss this as a gimmick on Cameron’s part, but cannot do so in good conscience. I think to dismiss him jut because he is a Tory is wrong, and a sign of a closed mind. On the other hand, he makes me very uneasy: he is looking more and more electable, and if this happens, something I care passionately for – inclusive education – dies. He has proposed a moratorium on the closure of all special schools.

As a ‘survivor’ of such a school (what an unfortunate term that is, given the situation of some of my classmates) I have seen first hand how such places fail kids.

Perfectly bright teenagers unable to read; students not being pushed. This problem is innate to such places, and it is only through inclusion that kids can flourish.

Yet, for many, this is why Cameron appeals. They see inclusion as a disaster, and agree with him when he says inclusion has gone too far; they, like him, inaccurately see inclusion as a money-saving scheme, although it would cost more than segregation in reality . Indeed, he has a disabled son so he should know.

This logic baffles me. I saw countless times how parents approved of what Hebden was doing, even though it was obviously failing kids. Their child could not read, but it was okay because they were happy at Hebden. This obviously is a problem which stems from low expectations of disabled children across the board: the assumption that we will never amount to anything much because of our disability, made by both teachers and parents, so why try hard to educate us? After all, work would only make us miserable.

This is why Cameron should not be heeded on this subject. He may have low expectations for his son, but I do not. Disabled kids do not need coddling; they need to be among their peers, disabled or not. Properly-supported inclusion is the only way to prevent the betrayal of thousands of kids.

More and more people are listening to Cameron; he sounds like a reasonable man, but segregation is anything but reasonable. I must, I know, sound like a broken record on this subject, and it probably is not high on many people’s agendas, but it is high on mine fore it concerns the education and thus the prosperity of millions of children. I have seen it first hand, and segregation is not the way forward.

I want one of these chairs quite badly. They look so cool, don’t they? the problem is, with that chair and my lightwriter, I could be mistaken for johnny 5 off Short Circuit.

While my first love is film, I take a keen interest in science, especially biology and earth science, as well as astronomy. I know my understanding is on a superficial level, but I am constantly amazed by nature and natural phenomena. It’s what draws me towards natural history programmes like a moth to a flame: it’s all just so damn beautiful. Anyway, this article about a joint US-Russian expedition to lake Vostok excites me; who knows what they may find in the dark abyss, which last saw sunlight aeons ago. If there are hydrothermal vents down there, there could be an ecosystem completely different to that found elsewhere. Moreover, I’m guessing that’ll have implications for finding life elsewhere in the universe.

I think I’ll add Dan Cruickshank to my list of favourite TV presenters. As with Michael Palin or David Attenborough, he seems to have an enthusiasm for his subject which makes his programmes very entertaining. They also have the same scope.

Last night he was presenting a programme on a man who made one of the first ever travel documentaries; what made it so special is it was filmed in rudimentary colour. While we probably cannot derive much new information from these 80 year old films – their scope is too narrow to say anything important – they offer insight into people’s relationship to the camera. Then cameras were new, novel. Thus in their reactions to the camera we see their reactions to the modern world – a rapidly changing world. Thus in this film we see people on the verge of modernity, which is what makes this programme fascinating.

I also like the comparisons Crookshank makes. It’s interesting to note how much and how little things have changed. The world is at once eternal and ever changing, a fact which this programme makes clear. It’s just a shame I’ll be at uni when the remaining episodes are aired.

.

see http://www.bbc.co.uk/history

I was reading the culture section of the Sunday times this morning. It’s review of Saturday’s episode of Dr. Who mentioned something called Torchwood. I just googled that title, and it seems Torchwood is a Dr Who Spin-off.

Now, I have nothing against sequels or spin offs. After all, star trek’s numerous spin-offs were very enjoyable, often bettering the original. I need hardly remind you, too, that my favourite book (well, one of them), the Lord of the Rings, is a sequel to the Hobbit. Therefore I see nothing wrong with such things.

However, I do not feel that captain Jack is a strong enough character to hold his own show. He just seemed to me to be a third unnecessary main character; the sort of character who had a few lines but you do not really notice. I could be wrong, and perhaps he cold be fleshed out in his own show.

It also raises the question of whether the universe Dr Who inhabits can cope. Dr Who has always been about a single, central figure, and the programmes have always focalised upon that figure. We can compare this with, say, star trek TOS, which had its focus upon a ship and it’s crew, allowing one to conjecture the existence of a bigger fleet. Thus, when the time came, viewers could accept the existence of other crews existing in other parts of the same universe. This universe, moreover, was very detailed – we knew, say, that the Klingons are a warrior race from Qo’nos – and with this detail star trek’s writers could tie each incarnation together. Dr. who differs from this because it is too vast, too sprawling: the Doctor has visited numerous times and places; indeed the very nature of the doctor is that he is a traveller. Apart from the Daleks and Cyber Men, nothing seems particularly fixed in his world.

This may be a problem for Torchwood. Unlike the original, they will have to fix it in a time and place, which, according to this, is Cardiff. The question is, does the universe created in the original have the integrity to support a spin-off. Dr Who was very fantastical, and it seems that this series would strive to be more serious. Can the universe adapt?

I am not sure it can. Dr Who was kitsch, loved for it’s dodgy plots and even dodgier scenery. It was science fantasy, not science fiction, and this new series wants to jump genres. This leap is, arguably, bigger than that taken between TOS and TNG, as the concepts behind the two were not all that different. I think this is a bad idea on the part of the beeb, but only time, and ratings figures, will tell.

It seems my rationale for disliking the Americans breaks down when it comes to television and films. Each time I watch the West Wing, I find it harder and harder to condemn them all as stupid, for I maintain that programme to be the most intelligent drama on TV today. How can they all be stupid when they can make such programmes? Then I remember that only half of them are stupid.

Seriously, though: I do not hate America: I have spent four happy holidays there; one of my favourite authors was born just outside Chicago; Americans have pioneered many sciences. Yet the yanks just seem so arrogant – to them, they single-headedly won the second world war; they claim every cool invention as their own, including the internet; they also think that democracy was their invention. It also really peeves me to see how unwilling they are to see things from other point’s of view. For example, I get angry when I see this guy slagging off Islam.

I must remember, however, that it isn’t just the Americans. There are bad eggs in every batch; think BNP, think Le Penn. The moment I condemn the whole of America for the actions of their government and the ratings on a few blogs, I become ass bad as them. I think everyone must keep things in perspective, and try to look at things from every side, which is, I think, what the people I get so angry with refuse to do.

Paradoxically, this is why I think blogs like Grouchy old Cripple are good, for, although I hate most of their content, their point of view is as valid as anyone else’s. objectivity, I have realised, is a myth, as there is always more than two ways of looking at things. There is no truth, only debate. Even scientists ever conclude things absolutely, but always leave room for more evidence.

I’m afraid this entry has developed into a chain of thought. It started off as a piece on the west wing, but just as last night’s programme went into the debate over abortion, it showed us how complex everything is. It reminded me of the simple truth that nothing is ever simple. Great TV should always have the power to make you think.

Although it isn’t yet the headline story in most news programmes, I’m becoming more and more concerned with the situation with regard to Iran. To be honest, I find their statement that they want to make nuclear energy only dubious: if the wanted energy, why not use solar? Iran is a sunny place after all, and it wouldn’t piss so many people off. Thus, I think they are indeed after nuclear weapons.

However, having said that, so what? Britain, the states, France china and Russia have the bomb, but nobody is worried. Where is it written that only we should have the bomb. Alright, Iran is under an oppressive regime, but I might remind you that the only country ever to use such weapons was a democracy; one which recently suggested it might use them again. If the states has nukes, why shouldn’t the Iranians?

Ok, I haven’t gone completely nuts, but there are principals here to stick by. Which is more worrying: a country which has recently declared two wars, is lead by a religious zealot and where execution is still legal having the bomb, or Iran?

I really think another war is coming.

My parents are home, and Luke has had to go back to Manchester. It’s a shame because I enjoy his company, and I’m sure mum and dad would have liked him to stay here a while, but I think he needed too get on with work. Because he went, I’ve had to revert to my older pc – the new one needed to be packed and ready to go back to university. For some reason, this pc claims it is 00.03, although it is about quarter to 6; I do not have access rights to change the clock. Because of this, I can’t get on to msn network – my prime means of communication with my friends. Indeed, I do not know if I can post to my blog, so this post should test that. If it works, I plan to say something about Iran soon: I feel a war coming.

It has been reported on ouch and elsewhere that golfer Tiger Woods said he thought he played like a spaz after loosing the recent open. The question I have now is, should I be offended? Indeed, I refer too myself as a spaz all the time – many disabled people do. Like crip, it is a word we claimed back for ourselves, and now it carries connotations of fraternity, the idea that we face a common struggle, etc.

However, for a non-crip to use it is different. As the article linked to above makes clear, it is rather like the N-word for black people, and the word Queer. Only certain people can use it. I still regard the word spaz as a term of abuse in some instances, and therefore am offended. The inability to knock a small ball into a hole with a stick does not mean you have cp.

It’s funny how problems can occur to you in dreams, or in REM-like, half asleep states. Last night I was struck with a moment of paranoia: it’s unlikely ever to happen, but what if I am ever arrested by the police and do not have access to my lightwriter? Now, I haven’t done anything that the police would want me for (to my knowledge anyway) but this raises quite a serious issue. How would I communicate with them? How do I tell them who I am? How do I tell them I do not have learning difficulties? Do I tap out the primes on the table or what.

Joking aside, this is of quite some importance to me. To my knowledge, the right to a communication aid is not guaranteed by law; hence those who do not get communication aids are virtually defenceless. Presumably, policemen, upon arrest, would deprive someone of their VOCA, not knowing what it was. In such a position, such a person would be defenceless.

Given that we crips are no less capable of criminality than anyone else, I think police should be trained about VOCAs. Moreover, it should be illegal to deprive anyone of such a device, and that access to this equipment should be guaranteed by law. This would maintain everyone’s basic human right to speech.

It’s not that I’m worried about it, just puzzled, and as usual I think writing about it would sort it out in my head. There appears to be two spheres of my life, my two greet interests which are almost polar opposites. On the one side, I fancy myself as an explorer: I am captivated by stories of exploration and adventure – of how cook sailed into the unknown aboard Endeavour; I love seeing the natural beauty within David Attenborough’s programmes; I love to explore the world with Michael Palin. Fictionally, my heroes include James Bond and Jean-luc Picard; I love the suave sophistication of bond, how he always wins the day without a mark on his tuxedo. I love how Picard is a captain from the finest tradition of naval and dramatic history – well rounded, slightly reserved, yet flawed.

All these men get to see exotic places; they are all explorers. They are also very masculine, especially Bond who is quite a misogynist. I have this great wanderlust, this great desire to follow my heroes into the unknown – I want to sail thee seas in a sailing ship, I want to see the great barrier reef, I want to climb the Andes and the Himalayas, I want to sail down the Nile and see the tombs of the kings. While in no way do I think these male-only provinces, they are incredibly masculine things to do, and this raises my curiosity.

In other areas of my life, I desire the feminine. I relax by pulling on the trappings of femininity, or rather what I see as them. I love to pull on my leotards and tights; I love to co-ordinate my outfits; recently I bought an adorable blue party frock with a white trim from a charity store, and now want petticoats for it. I love the feeling of being zipped into it. I know it’s illogical – going to the loo in such a garment is a nightmare, especially for me – and I recognise that many see it as perverted. I just find it makes me happy, and see no harm in it. I might add that it’s important to me to keep these two spheres separate – I dislike, for example, wearing girl’s underwear under a suit, something very masculine.

Yet how do I square these two parts of me? Palin and Attenborough wear shirts and chinos when presenting, not tutus. How can I make sense of these two opposite sides? After all, it would not be wise to climb mountains in, say, pink fishnet tights and a ra ra skirt. As I say, I’m not worried about this per se – I do not lie awake at night questioning why I am how I am – but it strikes me as more than a little paradoxical. It seems that, just as I want to explore the earth, part f me wants to explore the feminine.

I do knot know the solution. Indeed, do I need to solve it? I think not, as long as it’s harmless. I admit it’s a sort of fetish, but I see no harm in being open about such things, lest we all become incredibly repressed. I also hope that I am not thought of any differently for being open about these things.

Luke, my bro, has sated that every time he comes home he regresses to the state of a five year old. As such, when he’s home he can never do the work he intends to do. This is true for me too: I am always more productive at college than I am at home, although this week has been moderately good in terms of output. It’s just that home is so comfortable: we’ve been watching star trek episodes several at a time, eating when we want, generally having fun and forgetting about university. Thus, home is both good and bad. Mind you, my mood may change when Luke starts quoting rainman.

It’s been quite a cool day. My parents are away, so my brother is home to ”look after” me. I love it when he comes home to forfil this function – for one he’s quite a good cook, so I eat well. Tonight we are having spag bog, which, with any luck will be accompanied by beer.

Last time he came he read the latest Harry potter to me in one weekend. Today we watched star trek episodes for about 5 hours. Having finished the first draft of my essay this morning, I expect this weekend will be quite a good one.

For the last three days I’ve been working on my end of year culture essay. It’s supposed to be 4000 words, making it just about my biggest essay ever. However, I’m rather pleased with myself: for the last three days I’ve trotted off a thousand words a day, 1k for every film I have to analyse.. I also wrote a 500 word introduction on Sunday, meaning I have a 500 word conclusion to write tomorrow, and badda bing, badda boom, it’s done. However, although I love watching my word counter rise to the point off obsession, I just hope I’m not writing total bollox!

Today congratulations are in order to two people: firstly, Oxford university for winning the boat race. My older brother went there, so I kind of support oxford (I’ve always liked oxford since I found out that Tolkien taught there). On the other hand, Stephen Hawkins, a personal hero of mine, teaches at Cambridge, and it is also where Lightwriters are made, so my allegiances are kind of torn.

Congratulations are also due to the natural history unit of the bbc. Did you watch Planet Earth? It was quite, quite spectacular! In a way, I’d love to be a cameraman working ion one of those films: they seem to have great adventures amid some of the most spectacular scenery on earth. But then again, I would probably get bored and wander off to find a pub. Anyway, I can’t wait till part two, to be shown in the autumn.

As the son of two scientists, and sibling of two more, this is of great interest. It says – and I don’t pretend to understand it – that some types of neutrinos may have mass.. I may be talking out of my ass here, but didn’t I hear somewhere that much of the mass in the universe is ‘missing’, and, if so, might this explain it?

dammit. just read the article again, including the part which says ”In the longer term, the findings may also help us to better understand the mystery of “missing mass” in the Universe.”

I went with a few friends to a contemporary music concert last night. Given that I was surprised to find I liked contemporary theatre last week, I was fairly optimistic, and went with an open mind. To be fair, there were some quite good musicians there, playing some good music. But there were other things which were simply bizarre, and I can only describe them as noise.

I have a pretty broad sense of what I define as art: it has two criteria – art must either be aesthetically pleasing, or say something. In other words, it must engage the observer on some level. Last nights performance, unlike those of last week, did neither. The Mcshow.com was a comment on the dehumanising properties of popular culture; the art of corruption was a comment on the nature of art itself. They were both funny too. Last night’s…thing…held neither a message nor amusement. Most of it was simply the incessant making of noise for the sake of it, it seemed. Either that or taking themes from pre-written pieces and adding noise to them, which is kind of like me taking a line from Shakespeare and scribbling on it.. I’m sorry, but I just did not like it, but thiss, of course, is just my opinion. It was certainly experimental, and experimentation should always e encouraged.

I just read this fascinating overview of the portrayal of disability in three short stories. To be honest, I haven’t looked into this field too deeply, although I maintain that the more disabled people are portrayed in literature and art, the better. I must agree with Norlie’s conclusions: for the most part, we are portrayed accurately in lit, but there are some blinding oversimplifications and uses of stereotype out there. I’d want to see more of the former, and less of the latter. Go read.

I recently heard of this site – it’s the site of a woman in Baghdad, and is highly critical of the occupation. She seems to have the ability to look at things from both an internal and external perspective, making he a very good analyst.

The blog is, however, anonymous, meaning this blog could be written by anyone. This woman could be an ex-Ba’thist for all we know, writing to heighten criticism of the Americans. Indeed, for all you guys know, my blog might be written by a tame monkey which some guy called matt keeps as a pet and feeds squirrels to. Nevertheless, this blog is very well written, and allows one to glimpse what is truly happening in Iraq. It is also up for BBC four’s Samuel Johnson prize for non fiction

No monkeys, tame or otherwise, were hurt in making this entry.

Does anyone else think this is a non-issue? We all knew Blair was going to resign before the next election. Indeed, logic decreed it – he knows he’s losing popularity, even if he doesn’t admit it, and he knows too that, if he hands over to brown, labour have a better chance of winning the next election. Even I can see that, and have noted it here before.

So why are the press now in a tizzy just because Blair said something in Australia? He didn’t even say much. I don’t get it, and, frankly, was far more amused when I saw dame Edna taking the piss out of the Americans.

It’s becoming increasingly rare that me, mark and Luke are together. We’re all students of one stripe or another, each at different universities, so it’s often six months or a year between instances when we are together. They are both down for the weekend, and we are together in the house where we grew up.

They’re both musicians. Mark is quite a good pianist, as, it seems, is Luke. After we got in from a walk, this afternoon, Luke was tinkling on the piano, making up tunes and playing things from memory. He went through his favourites, and mine too, but he suddenly broke into a tune I have not heard in ages. Before my brothers left for uni, they sometimes played a duet together: Chopsticks, a quirky, happy melody, which has lots of room for embellishments. Luke was playing the higher notes, simply tinkling distractedly. Then, spontaneously, mark came and started to play the harmony, and the house was suddenly filled with a tune it had not heard in nigh on six years. It was quite beautiful.

These days, I am happier than ever, going to pub quizzes and partying most of the night with friends I would like to keep in touch with my whole life, yet that cannot beat the moment when mark and Luke played together once more. Beautiful.

yesterday my uncle forwarded me the following. Thanks uncle aki!

Sign seen in Washington, DC.

“Would someone please give him a blow job so we can impeach him.”

I went to the campus theatre again last night. Contemporary arts students certainly have strange imaginations. This time I saw ‘the McShow.com’, a comment on commercialisation and globalisation. However, the message of the piece was not as clear as it had been with ‘the art of corruption’: I found it a far more vague piece, where the actors said seemingly random things.

There were, however, a couple of very good performances: Maria portrayed her pregnant, loud scally girl to perfection (‘If we do it again I can have twins, yeah?’) and Pete played a very good wise man, who seemed lost in this collection of misfits.

Maria: I’m bleeding now! Pete: then we have a situation

Maria: what situation?

Pete: situation is, baby is coming.

Trust me, it was very funny. However, I must note that one guy was portraying a ‘junkie’, but this junkie seemed like he had CP. Many of his movements were highly reminiscent of someone with cerebral palsy, most notably the way in which he held his hands was very CP-esque. While this did not offend me per se, I have to raise an eyebrow over the confusion between junkies and people with CP; I am sure this could not have been a coincidence.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed myself very much last night, and have been invited to tonight’s wrap party. It promises to be one hell of a night; I just hope I can get up in the morning.

I am often put off by contemporary theatre; I find it vague and elitist. What the creators are trying to say is often unclear which puts me off. However the piece I saw last night was different. I went because many of my friends were in it, but I found it had a sense of both self awareness it commented on art itself, whilst being a piece of art. It said all art can be corrupted while it was corrupted itself; as if to say, all art is bullshit. Whilst being bullshit itself, I therefore found it likeable because it said something. although I was disturbed by some of the imagery, I found it very enjoyable on the whole.

I’ve finally got round to blogging the election now all the fun is over. MMU just elected it’s new student representatives, although it must be said that it was quite a farcical affair. At one stage, comparisons with the events of Florida in 2001 were being made, as there were reports of the online voting system going down, and candidates putting extreme pressures on voters. I was just itching for someone to use the phrase dimpled or hanging chad. I got fed up with the whole affair when it appeared that the favourite candidate was being investigated on an obviously trumped up charge, and made a petition. I got about 50 people to sign.

In the end, however, this was not necessary, as Robert got elected. He was obviously the favourite as he is practically everybody’s friend, but I got outraged that he, of all people was being investigated. Anyway,, all’s well that ends well, and he should be an excellent union officer.

it appears that I have found something that I simply must go see. While looking for the postcode of my college, I found the wikipedia entry for Alsager, where I noticed something unexpected. There are barrows near alsager. Monoliths thousands of years old! now I just want to go explore! who knows what one may find

Wow!

I do not have much to report today. It’s my birthday, and I’m in seventh heaven. It is perhaps testimony o my geekiness that I’m so happy about my presents: namely, Blue planet and the final season of enterprise. This means that after I get bored exploring this planet, I can explore others. However, after four hours in front of the

TV, that’s enough probably Attenborough and archer for now. [insert squeal of joy here]

Yesterday, while I was eating dinner in the wes, I caught sight of a Newsround report about the childline awards. Needless to say, I was quite uninterested until I saw a familiar face – or rather, two familiar faces. For his work as a role model, Beth had nominated Toby Hewson for an award. It was quite a surprise to see them both on telly, and I pointed it out to bill.

This award couldn’t have gone to a nicer guy. Great stuff.

link.

It now seems it’s all going pear-shaped for Tony Blair. I really think he suffered irreparable damage last night when he had to rely on Tory votes to get his education bill through. Surely this is a sign of a prime minister in his death throes.

Mind you, I am still voting labour. Cameron, for all his ‘nice guy’ image, is still a Tory, and is also anti-inclusion. This latter fact means I most definitely cannot vote for him, although I use that example as a metonym too.. It also leads me to strongly suspect that his ‘nice guy’ image is just that – an image. Beneath that Gilderoy Lockhart smile is still a Tory who believes in segregation, among many other foolish things. My one fear apropos politics today is that people will be taken in by this new charismatic Tory leader after looking at the sinking ship that the Blair government has become.

Thus I hope Blair resigns soon. Labour needs a new leader to defend against Cameron. Someone with charisma enough to win back voters, as I don’t think they realise a Tory with a nice smile is still a Tory.

I went to the alsager arms last night, and although we did not win, I was very amused. Our winning the last two weeks seems to have caused quite a stir with the locals: about mid-evening, Steve informed me that the barman had asked if my lightwriter was connected to the net. Obviously some people had suspected me of cheating. While it is worth noting that some modern VOCAs do indeed have internet and Bluetooth connections, my lightwriter (which my friends, btw, have taken to calling Colin) is not that sophisticated. Moreover, Switch is now banned from picking the key. I suspect the locals are starting to eye us students with great suspicion.

After we won £350 in the last two weeks, is it any wonder why? Me and Colin are very amused by it all.

This one will be a moan. I really am pissed off over something that occurred at lunchtime: I got the ‘it’s such a shame’ treatment from one of the kitchen staff. Basically he told Esther that it was a pity about me and apparently ‘he’s very clever’. He then proceeded to try to wipe my mouth without my permission. This, of course, was in full view of most of my friends (who mercifully paid no attention). It was nevertheless embarrassing. Do I look like I am 5? I came within a hare’s breath of losing my rag and attempting to decapitate this sod. It’s just so humiliating. People assume I’m stupid.

But, as Margaret Atwood wrote, ‘Context is all’. I read this morning of how medical experiments done to disabled kids in institutions. See this, for instance. The poor kid must have been in agony. While I must admit I am pro animal testing, opening me up to accusations of hypocrisy, I believe this must, if at all possible, be replaced with other means, and experiments such as those described in this article should never be carried out. So, wile I maintain it is my right to be deeply affronted by this guy, I must remind myself that there are far far darker things.

This morning we watched ‘Alphaville’, it is a film by Jean-Luc Godard, and my tutor said it is a good film. I think however, that is only because it is in French, were it in English not directed by Godard, I would have been undoubtedly forgotten. It has the plot of a particularly bad B-movie. It is highly derivative and although there were some interesting shots, most of the shooting made no sense. What were the flashing E = mc2 signs about? Also, there was poetry inserted which seemed to serve no purpose other than to be pretentious. I know I’m probably being a luddite, but this movie really did suck.

Yesterday, Luke – having come home on the frankly dubious premise that he wanted to avoid having to go out Friday night – showed me this web-animation. Now, I know that such animation is unusually very odd, but this is odder than most; especially given the reason for it’s creation.

Esther just emailed this stuff on bond. We are both big bond fans: she says I got her into it, and sometimes I wonder what I have started. Anyway, casino royale looks good; I especially like the concept of taking bond back to his roots, and I find the prospect of having him fallible interesting. It looks like the ambiance and mise-en-scene of this movie should me more rugged, less fantasy-like, which might take the franchise in a new direction. Something to look forward to.

Thanks Esther!

Why uni doesn’t organise any more open mic nights I do not know. There was one last night in brandies, and it ruled. I never had more fun. The quality of the music was good, and the group of friends I belong to were all there. Most notable was a rendition of ‘Black horse and the cherry tree’, which is one of the coolest, sassiest songs ever written, and my friend Richard (a person way too cool for brandies) and his mates played some Santana tracks, which rocked…like…totally!

Probably the highlight of the evening, and the coolest thing I have seen in a long time, came at the end when Steve got up and sang a version of ‘Sweet home Alabama.’ Steve didn’t have the words, so the song was simply ‘sweet home Alsager / where the weather’s always shit’, repeated over and over. This isn’t the point though: that tune rocked. There was a shithot guitarist; the bass guitar rocked. Basically it all ruled.

I decided today to get together with Chris and Steve in order to lay down some lyrics to ‘sweet home Alsager’. Chris is, it must be said, a great lyric writer, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

God I love university. It is a disgrace that, because of the failures of the special school system, so few fellow disabled people get to go.

further to the scandal about the ending of the CAP (and scandal it is) I just got this quite terrific email from home. whether It’ll achieve anything remains to be seen

[quote=”dad”]Matthew,

You have had a letter from Ann Winterton [mp for conleton] to say that she has signed the early day motion on Scope’s campaign, and she will contact you as soon as there is more information.

Love

Dad

[/quote] sometimes i like it when my parents open my mail. hmmm…

Lightning, it seems, can strike twice. Rather incredibly, last night’s pub quiz had exactly the same result as last week. We won, for the second week in a row. This week the jackpot was £100, which, divided between the 6 of us, means I should be £16.66 better off, but the barman, rather dodgily, said he was not authorised to give us the cash. We should get it a week on Friday, when the landlord returns from holiday.

Whether we’ll ever see this money, I’m not sure, but I can’t believe our luck. Steve and Chris say I am lucky, but I just find it all highly amusing.

There has been wide press coverage of this story about a baby with spinal muscular atrophy (SMA), who doctors say should be allowed to die because he has no ‘quality of life’. Says who!? Such statements piss me off, as surely the only person qualified to speak on the quality of one’s life is oneself. Many people would say that, because I have CP, I have less quality of life – they would be wrong. I love my life. Because this child has nothing to compare it with, he may well love his life too.

I risk here being accused of aligning myself with right wing pro-lifers, but I think I am remaining liberal in saying his infant should be kept alive. It is more right wing, in my opinion, in saying he should be allowed to die just because he does not conform to what some people think is a quality life.

The fact remains we have no way of determining what this child feels, and thus he should be given the benefit of the doubt.

It seems I might – just might – have spoken too soon. I mourned the passing of star trek last night, but it may not be dead. Shatner is writing a pilot episode to the sixth incarnation. it might suck, but star trek is far from dead, it seems. go here. moreover, I read yesterday that richard branson has decided on a name for his first commercial space ship. what else could he call it but Enterprise.

Television, at it’s best, can inspire. I find the nature shows David Attenborough presents very inspirational, and the travel shows of Michael Palin, because they remind me of how tremendously beautiful our planet is, from wide, deep seas to the great mountains, shouldered by cloud.

Yet our planet, circling an uninteresting star, will be only one in one hundred million planets. These we cannot reach yet, but humans have this tremendous capacity to imagine. Until we can exceed the speed of light we will not be able to explore the heavens, so we must be content with our imagination. This too has the capacity to inspire.

Such imaginings inspire me. Since I was five or six, I have been an avid fan of star trek. All my family were. Star trek night was the only night we ate dinner in front of thee TV. I’m not sure what, but something within The Next generation caught my attention profoundly – perhaps it was the promise of the future where man settled his petty differences and worked as one to better himself, to peruse science, to explore. I was held captive by the stories of Jean-Luc Picard as he explored the stars; Benjamin Sisco as he fought the dominion; Kathryn Janeway [nauseatingly stupid though she was] and Jonathan Archer, the last and first of the captains. And then there is James T. Kirk, who I know mostly through the films yet who I loved also. These five captains, with their five series, combined to make an epic future history which has inspired millions.

It has brought myself, personally, so much joy. I rank First Contact among my favourite films, and the Ahab scene is my favourite scene in all of cinema (but don’t tell my film lecturer). I loved the epic battle scenes of the latter half of DS9. I love how Kirk and Picard fought together in generations. The list goes on, but, in short, the whole Trek cycle – the films and TV programmes – have brought me so much joy: they have inspired me.

On clear nights, I look up at the stars. They are beautiful. I remark that one day we will travel among them, but that certainty is born of hope. This hope is, in turn, gleamed from star trek, and each time I look up I hear the theme tune to next generation. Yet this certainty comforts me.

Tonight I watched the last episode of enterprise. It ended with the very birth of the federation, bringing star trek full circle. Thus my pleasant dream ends, and I cannot help but feel sad. I cannot believe there will be no more – it has brought me so much hope, so much fun, like the times I spent talking about ds9 to Andy Fox, who was an avid trekkie.

The last episode ends with a montage of the three main enterprise ships – NX-01, NCC 1701 and NCC 1701 D – and their captains – Kirk, Picard and Archer taking turns to recite the following immortal lines:

‘Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Her ongoing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

Not a bad ending, but now we must make sure it comes true. As captain Picard once said: ‘Let’s see what’s out there.’