It seems wednesday discos are getting passe – seen one, seen em all. anyway, I caame home to update you all on how i’m getting fed tea. In short, bill has said he’ll do ll four evenings, which suits me and julia too, it seems. told you the answer would be simple! I really shouldnn’t worry so much time for bed

We all get days like this. Days when one wants the earth to simply stop spinning. Recently, I’ve been having problems with carers – I get homecare, but with the everenergetic bill as my PA taking me out all over the county, I often have to cancel homecare at short notice. Naturally this pisses social services off without whose help I could not study at MMU. So, either I stick to a strict timetable and stay at uni or I go with Bill, pissin social off. I am stuck between my disability and the urge to have fun like the other students. I really do not want to anger Julia, who has moved the world for me, but at the same time I want to have fun. I really do not want to let my disability get in the way, but I might need home car in the future and so cannot afford to anger them.

The fact that I do not know the solution really gets me down, yet I must bear in mind two things – firstly, I am among the first wave of disabled people to get to university, and so this very much is a trial and error process which still has bugs; secondly, it occurred to me that although I get depressed I have no enemies. Julia, mum, dad, Bill are all on my side, and so I must praise them rather than get angry.

So, perhaps the world can keep spinning. With luck, these things will be ironed out soon enough. All the same, I feel my usual in-trouble urge to remind mum and ad that I love them.

I’m giving serious thought to joining DAN or a similar disability organisation. I recently became aware hat there is a home for disabled people very near my home in Congleton. According to Julia my social worker, rather than simply being an old folk’s home, they keep young disabled people there too. I dropped by briefly yesterday afternoon on my way to a drive around the park and saw evidence of some very young people there. I believe all people have a right to live in the wider community, and so I am quite concerned.

The first question for this entry is where do I start describing what I got up to last night, and the second is how much detail should I go into. It all started, I suppose, about mid-morning, when, during a coffee break in the film festival, I noticed a fairground ghost-train being erected at the back of the Wesley centre (the campus canteen). As you can imagine, this made my mid race: what, exactly, were they planning for the Friday the 13th summer ball? It certainly seemed extravagant. In short, I had deduced that the night was either going to rule or suck, but either way it would be a night to remember.

The sighting of the roller-coaster had me squealing with excitement all afternoon. At one point Esther asked what was up with me. I always have squealed like a child when excited, and I think some of my friends gave me odd looks of concern. I needed to calm down, but I could not wait. I had never been to anything like this before, never seen such a cultural event first hand. At about three, after the film festival had heard Dr. West-Burnham’s closing speech about the irony of calling film studies a “Mickey mouse degree”, I could not help counting down the hours until 7pm. This was a mistake, for when one does this, time seems to drag.

Nevertheless, seven eventually came. At that hour, Bill was busy coaching footballers, so I had arranged for a friend of mine to help me on with my costume. One could argue that I was inappropriately dressed, but the theme was ghouls and ghosts, and I doubt anything can be more scary than a spastic in a bunny costume. Thus at about quarter past 7, I was on my way to the wes, only to find the place deserted.

“where is everybody?” I asked Stuart the barman

“whoa! Just you wait, matt, they’ll be here. Have a free punch.”

The problem with rabbits is their ears. Luckily evolution has seen to it that a real rabbit’s ears are firmly attached to their heads. I was not quite so lucky, and the plastic headband with large ears kept slipping off my head. After about three attempts at trying to keep them on, and failing, I asked Luke, the burly barman, to place them behind the bar for safe keeping. I think they’re still there.

Even without the ears, girls seem to think I look cute in my bunny outfit. As the evening wore on, a great many girls wanted to hug, kiss ad have their photo taken with me. It was a beach party too, so many girls (and one boy) were in bikinis and grass skirts. It was very difficult to stop my head involuntarily swerving to look, and spilling my drink in the process. Nevertheless, I always seemed to have company last night.

At one point, I got talking to a guy in bright green fishnet tights. His name was Owen, and dad would say he was “as gay as they come”. If the truth must be told, I found him pretty. This has perturbed me of late, for if I was gay how could I have felt so passionately about Becca? Recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am bisexual, as that way it doesn’t matter who I fancy. End of internal debate.

I spent the night going back and forth between the Wes and Brandies, as there was a disco in both. In Brandies, there was a live band with a guitar player capable of some sublime solos. They played covers of everything from the Beatles to Queen to Robbie Williams. I simply had to dance to their cover of The Darkness’ “a thing called love”, making fool of myself in the process. The place was thumping, the house band ruled, and I was very happy.

Yet all of the above leads up to the main happening of the evening. On Wednesday nights I often see a girl from the Crewe campus. Until last night we had not spoke, but I had wanted to say hi for a while. She has CP too, although not as severe as mine. I had always been reticent of going up to her – after all, we only share a neurological condition and nothing else. I reasoned that she would not like to be singled out, so I let her be. Yet towards the end of the evening, I was sitting down, nursing a small burn from some accidentally spilt cigarette ash, when the girl came to sit by me. Ironically, she had been wanting to say hi to me all year too. I have always been of the opinion that, as a subculture, we disabled must stick together to remain strong, but was afraid she would not agree. Either way, Lucy and I got chatting over a beer, and thus became friends. I said we must do lunch together sometime – what a disgustingly American phrase that is – and she agreed. I’m looking forward to that lunch, for she seems intelligent and astute. For some reason, I have always been more comfortable with fellow crips – they have more of an idea of where I am coming from.

Hence, the six hours between seven and one flew by, as if the god of time had been saving his energy by going slowly the previous six hours for a sprint. As the lights of the bar rose, I went back home, wondering if beer washes out of nylon spandex.

tonight was the film festival reception. the rest of the day had gpone well, apart from my subtitle video not working, which had me in a rrage for about an hour. Howebver, a strange thing happened at the reception tonight in martin’s bar: i was sitting, talking to friends when the dke box started to play He aint heavy by the hollies. i found myself welling up, bottom lip shooting out. thatt was the opening song of andrew fox’s funeral. I had to come home, i felt so strongly. Yes, i’m melodramatic. sstrange how that song has such an effect on me, even after 4 years.

I have been having trouble adding my entry tonight. please bear with me.

tomorrow is the day of the mmu film festival, the climax of the year. we’ve been preparing it for months. It’s supposet to be a world film and tv celebration, so my seminar group was put in charge of the americas section. the rather cool bit is I get to say a few words about soutth park. Later this afternoon, all being well, we’ll record my piece onto video, which can be projected onto the screen with added subtitles. ha! I get subtitles. how cool. now I better go prepare the words.

I have just returned from dinner with bill. We ate at a local pub about 5 miles out of the village. I’m fast developing a taste for eating out, but it’s not cheap so I’ll do it once a week now I have bill. Living with my parents is cool, and mum remains the best cook on earth, but its as if I’m finally experiencing the cosmopolitan life I always dreamed of.

Ironically, students here complain that there’s so little to do here. This is probably true for people used to going out into big cities every night, and not having to face the hassle of mobility problems. But for me, the close environment of campus is ideal, with everything within walking / controlled falling distance. It feels awesome to be able to come and go as I please. Its great to have bill to take me places.

Ok, this may not be political and social commentary, but for a blog of a disabled person, it is entirely pertinent and should be said.

Many other commentattors have noted that blair got he slap on the wrist he so badly needsd yesterday/thursday. i agree with them – the fact that labours whopping majoriy has been slashed is that good in that blair can no longer every bill of his to pass aand thus he has to deal with parliament more. this means he’s more accountable, so no more stupid wars. He’ll now struggle to get through legislation like ID cards and tuition fees etc.

So, the tories did’t get in AND blair got an arse kicking he badly needed. A fairly good resuklt, if unsurprising. All we need do now is sit back and watch the tories once again reduce themselves to dust by in-fighting. And could this mean the return of three-party politics, as kennedy predics? i think it s likely.

So, today’s the day of the election. I’ve managed to totally evade it, not having a television or radio in my room. vvvery pleasant. it surprises me, however, how election free campus is: there isn’t a political poster in sight. maybe the politicians just take it as read that all academics are left-leaning-liberals and don’t bother. thus, I’ll probably only hear the resullt on the tv in the canteen at breakfast, which is a pleasant enough way to find out.

As to the result, I have no doubt that labour’ll be re-elected: he torie have a mountain to climb, and michael howard has given them all skiis rather than hiking boots. imgine boris johnson skiing backwards! that I’d pay to see!

talking about paying to see tuff, theres something called the magic fridge on in the dance studio. “like the magic flute but ccooler” declare the osters. this might be a chance to indulge my love of opera and compare the production values of the rncm with mmi. to be honest, I dont hold out much hope, byt its only £2 a ticcket for an evening out.

I just got in after having dinner out with bull. Its good to be able to do so, evenif it’s just at a local pub. ‘The plough’ has a two meals for a tenner offer, which suits the crip-with-PA. I adore these long evenings out and about, which is another reason why you all should vote labour or lib dem, becausee I haveno doubt that the tories will cut direct payment budgets. am I being paranoid?

Time, as my esteemed brother is able to tell you, is strange stuff. It speeds up and slows down, but it is only when one achieves lightspeed that time stops, which is a pity. I was writing a short story this morning for university about my family,, and I was struck by everything that happened over the years in this house. Then I was stuck by how quiet it is now – mum and dad are on holiday, and Luke is still asleep. All the games and fun had in this house will never come again.

oh scrap that. Luke just got up and put radio 1 on. So much for quiet, but I think I hear breakfast being made.

We posted my vote this morning. its far smpler than arsing about in polling booths – simply make a cross at the kitchen table and put the envelope in the box on your way to the barbrs. I felt no less empowered. The fiasco about postal vote rigging ddoes worry me, but it’s done now and I can forget about it. Plus I have no need to worry about finding a polling station in alsager on thursday. I do however, have some concerns about our current electoral system, which elects candidates who do not have the backing of the majority of people, but I’ll leave that till another entry. can howard concievably win from his current position? mercifully I think not.

Uni is far too much fun; I’m starting to feel guilty. Today was the inter-hall rugby tournament. all the halls of residence on campus fielded a rugby 7, and they played 14-minute matches until one group was crowned the victor with cheap tesco cider. I and most of the university went to watch. It was a nice day for it too.

For some reason I did not feel quite as mobile as usual, so I just sat and talked to the guys. they kept offering me beers, so I had two cans. My lethargy was in part brought on by the trouble over who helps me eat dinner on Tuesday. On Tuesday afternoons I have bill as my PA, and he’s with me until late, so it make sense to eat out with him. However, this means cancelling home help, which seems simple to me – I just tell my breakfast helper that I won’t need help in the evening – but apparently it causes all sorts of hastle with my social worker. So now I cant have any sort of spontaneity? Its not that I don’t appreciate it, but I sometimes hate having to have so much help, to rely on so many people, to have to eat at certain pre-set times. On the other hand, I love the freedom I now have: I love writing in the arboretum, going to the library, going places with bill, the intellectual cut-and thrust of film lectures. I have more freedom than ever, largely due to my mum, dad and social worker.

I am torn between gratitude for my new freedoms and resentment of their limitations. I’d guess this paradox is common to all disabled people.

If you want me to transform me from a pleasant-matt to a grumpy-mat, pat me on the head! It works every time. I was quite happily eating my lunch today, using my neater-eater to devour some atrocity called “corn beef hash”, when a member of the kitchen staff walked by, said “hello matty” and patted me on the head. she then walked off.

Do I look like a dog or a four-year-old? I’m 22, studying for a degree, yet the kitchen staff – most of them – treat me like a kid. Do they pat anyone else? no! so why me? It’s like I’m a child to them, and they ttreat me like a retard.

This makes me undescribably angry. Whats more, it was “matty” rather than “matt” or “matthew”, an infantile form of my name. grr. best olet things like this slide though.

Watcheed Jeremy packman interviewing micchael dracula yesterday. he seemed to be trying to appear nice and reasonable, but there was very little which was reasonable about what he was saying. Its clear that he has no underlying caurse for his attitude to immigration besides xenophobia, and his plans for processing ccamps outside the boarders of the UK seem hay to say the least. Paxman made a pertinent point aboutt the 1951 treaty on the subject – that the only countries that have refused to sign a treaty on immigration, a treaty Howard plans to withdraw from, are placs like north Korea and Saudi Arabia. Moreover, howard clearly wants to pull out of the 1994 Salamanca agreement on incclusion. When he does, I will consider aphartied to exist in britain, and will write to Kofi Annan asking him to impose trade sanctions on britain, as the u.n did with south Africa.

Is it me, or is this text suddenly bigger? No doubt, my techie brother luke has beenn tweeking the code. cheers bro. now it looks like I’ve written more. Baack at school, teachers actually [i]encouraged[/i] kids to do that fore GCSE english coursework. The students were allowed to get away with the minimum possible. well, that’s special schools for you!

not much time to update: I’m having far too much fun with bill. we’re off again in twenty minutes. having a p.a rules!

Not too much to report tonight. It’s been a rather humdum kind of day, attending lectures, talking to friends. We’re being treated to a lovely evening, and later I’m off to brandies to celebrate alec’s birthday. Amazingly, he’s forgooing entering a pool competition and staying at brandies so I can join them. quite astonishing: Now I’m out in the world, I’m constantly amazed how many changes people are prepared to make just to accomodate me.

This could, howevver, be only indigenous to the cloistered environs of academia, that strange great place where the bohemian deals of truith and beauty are sought. I love it here so much – going to discos, the opera, libraries and lectures. this is where I belong. Everyone av=ccepts me here, and I hhave more friends than I can count.

we were up in durham yesterday with mark. it was good to see him again as it had been a while, but while there I cannit update my blog. In all, it has been a fairly busy weekend, and I’m pretty tired. I’ll make a fuller entry soon. Meanwhile, theres a heated debate going on over inclusive education on the ouch messageboards.

Its been a very good day: I gave bill the relevent paperwork, and he’s on the way to becoming my new p.a. I was getting bored of buggering about with adds in papers, so I asked my friend and mature student to be my p.a. cool thin is, he lives in macc so he can help me in the holidays oo.

this week, I have watched tw rather grim films. this evening, i watched city of god a brazilian film about gang warfare in the poor areas of Rio de Jenero. It was rather violent, but told a good story: the type of film where one can really get a feel for the culture it portrays. however, on monday we saw Requiem for a dream which I did not enjoy watching at all. Although it is stylistically brilliant, and a masterclass in cuting which would make Eisestien proud, the story concerns four people torn apart by vrious addictions, the portrayal of which is so vivid that it is horrifying to watch. we see heroin being injected into a badly infected wound; we see a middle-aged lady becoming obsesses with the possibility of being on tv, subsequently becomming addicted to slimming pills, and eventually becoming so unstable that she is subjected, very graphically to ECT. We also see a young lady sustaining her drug habbit by resorting to prostetution and forced to do the most vulgar acts imaginable. No wonder this film has been banned: I am usuwally against censorship, but on Monday I left the lecture theatre feeling sick, and hoping never to see that film again. It should be watched by no-one.

oh, what a surprise! 20th century fox is about to release kingdom of heaven, an epic. I have seen trailers, and most of the shots are almost exact duplicates of lotr shots. the cenematographic ambience is identical! bbut more worryingly, this film is about the crusades, and somehow portrays those blood-lusted chaptera as a good thing. no prises for spotting the paralells here!

this is hardly a blog-worthy event, but today, when I woke up, I decided I needed a shower, so I gave myself one. on my own. fiirst time ever – go me, and huzzah for independence!

And yes, mum, I did use soap!

It’s turning out to be a reasonably sunny day, but everything did not go according to plan this morning. I got up on time, got dressed (minus shoes and socks, which I always struggle with) made my toilet and turned on my PC while I waited for my home care assistant to arrive at 9. 9 am came and went I didn’t worry at first because they are often a bit late. However, when it got to 20 past I started to worry. It was at that point when the university caretaker arrived: there was something wrong with the water supply to the flat and he had come to repair it. I let him in while I used my computer. At about 9.30 I used Word to tell the caretaker that I was worried about my home care, my Lightwriter was still on charge, as I can’t put it on myself.

After the caretaker had left I was getting really worried. I tried to email Dad and my social worker to see if they could do anything but for some reason the email system was down. At this point I decided to put my own shoes and socks on – for me this is a very slow process, but I can do it eventually. I then decided to go to the canteen to see if I could get anyone to help but as I didn’t want to risk dropping it I couldn’t bring my Lightwriter. Sufficed to say I couldn’t get anyone to understand me in the canteen, so I went back to my room to room to wait for Esther. At this point I was getting very worried and hungry. I turned my computer back on and it had just finished warming up when the home care worker arrived. The caretaker had gone to reception and had made some enquiries. It was now about 10.15 so I went for a quick breakfast of two bananas in order to get back before Esther arrived. Fortunately due to the chaotic public transport Esther was also late today. Either way I was only 5 minutes late for lessons. All’s well that ends well.

After what was, in my view, the spectacular success of The Lord of the rings, I was of the opinion that Hollywood can film anything that it put it’s mind to. Sure, LOTR had it’s flaws, but it was the best film that it could be, given Tolkien’s source material. So, to begin with, I greeted the adaptation of Douglas Adams’ Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy with open arms. The casting of Alan Rickman as Marvin is even better than casting Sean Bean as Boromir, which I thought was genius. But the only thing that makes me cautious is the fact that it’s being made by Disney, or an offshoot, a company famous for twee kiddies films. This is probably irrational, but I do hope Disney do not ruin these brilliant books.

This group of friends seems as intellectually zany as my family. As long as they don’t start quoting Rainman it’s ok.

[img description=”howard” align=”centre”]/images/hitler1.JPG[/img] [img description=”howard” align=”centre”]/images/howard1.JPG[/img]

Sorry, couldn’t resist!

[img description=”Odd mane though” align=”centre”]/images/camilla.jpg[/img]

Currently, I’m rather pleased with myself: recently I sent out messages to a few old friends about my current lacck of PA, and this morning I got a very prromissing response. It kind of prooves my methods do work and that I can sort myself out, sometimes.

This morning, me and my parents had an argument, about who got me where I am today. I think I did a lot of the work, but I wouldn’t have got anywhere without the guys. When I only got a D at GCSE maths, it was they who insistid I could do better. They got me a tutor, and after hating maths for many years, I realised the beauty of the subject, and got a C the next year. It was my parents who read to me and my brothers every night, as children, impressing upon us a deep love of literature. I also remember sitting at the kitchen table, watching dad demonstrate chemistry and physics, which may have began Mark’s love of the subject. My parents got me a computer so I could tap out my thoughts from an early age: my brothers benefited from this too, and Luke is now doing bioinfomatics at university. It was he who made this site.

I do not give my parents enogh credit. They brought up two geniuses and a lazy ninny, but even the lazzy ninny is going to university (apparently it’s quite rare for a person who went to a special school to attend university). I don’t give mum and dad enough credit, and too much grief.

[img description=”Rageh Omaar” align=”centre”]/images/rageh_omaar_islamic_history_of_europe.jpg[/img]

Before I turn in, I better draw your attention to Rageh Omaar’s documentary, An Islamic History of Europe, which aired tonight on BBC4. In the middle/dark ages, Moors, Jews and Christians lived side by side in Spain. The Islamic Moors contributed vastly to European culture. How sad that we so often forget this.

‘Jake R’ left a few interesting comments on my post about the election yesterday, and these naturally need to be addressed. Firstly, he points out that Mr Howard claims that immigration costs this country £2 billion. Be that as it may, the (fiscal) cost of the war in Iraq was $82bn, with the UK paying a large sum of that. See this, for example. Why is it that Mr. Howard was not opposed to spending such large amounts on blowing up innocent people, when he begrudges it to refugees? Moreover, although the exact figure varies from source to source, Howard’s figure is a pittance compared to the total sum of money the UK is making.

So why is Mr. Howard so concerned about this issue? The UK is wealthy and prosperous, and to turn away these refugees would be in breach of the 1951 Geneva Convention, the text of which can be found here. Thus, I feel that underlying all of Mr. Howard’s arguments is basic and bog-standard xenophobia.

Similar things can be said of his attitude towards schools. He preaches discipline and an end to what he terms “yob culture”. This is all very well and good, but Mr. Howard does not address the underlying causes of this culture. More worryingly from my perspective, he has pledged to overturn Labour’s inclusive education policy. Inclusive education is the first step towards a society more tolerant of disabled people; although Mr. Howard claims that many “good” special schools will be closed, most research suggests that there is no such thing. To quote Navin Kikabhai’s “No Such thing as a Good ‘Special’ School – The Expropriation of Education” (2002):

[quote=”Navin Kikabhaiurl:http://www.inclusion-boltondata.org.uk/FrontPage/data39.htm”%5D

Thomas (1997) found that 70 per cent of special schools do not enter any pupils for GCSE, Thomas further went on to use the 1995/6 school performance league tables to show that 93 per cent of mainstream Year 11 students obtained at least one A* – G grade, whereas only 16 per cent of Year 11 students in special schools obtained at least one A* – G grade. This overtly revealing statistic draws concern given that the largest group of pupils in special schools are labelled as having ‘Moderate Learning Difficulties,’ nearly 55,000, and yet in mainstream schools students would have all entered for GCSE (Thomas, 1997).

[/quote]

Thus in wanting to reverse the trend towards inclusion, the Tories are doing a very dangerous, stupid thing. However, when this subject has been broached on this site before, it has caused animosity between me and certain people whose opinions I otherwise respect in the utmost, so I better not go too far into this.

Either way, the above is an outline of why I will not vote conservative. There are, naturally, other reasons, but you get the picture. However, labour is not much better: they led us to war on a lie, and introduced tuition fees. The war I have discussed before, so it is tuition fees which I will turn to. How can everyone have access to education, when you have to pay for it? After all, innate intelligence pays no heed to how rich one’s family is; therefore access to education – all education – should be free. No matter how much Blair tries to sugar coat this issue, it’s still wrong. On the other hand, from a personal perspective, through various Labour initiatives I have access to the help I need to go to university: I can pay the wonderful Esther to help me, and it was labour who brought about Home Help, without whom I’d be stuck. Labour also introduced Direct Payments, which helps out millions of disabled people, giving them the independence they deserve.

Without any reasonable opposition from the liberal democrats, labour must get re-elected. I keep worrying, probably irrationally, that the Tories would cut the DP system and home help. Then where would I be? Stuck at home with…Grandma.

*Shudder*

So, Blair has called an election on may the 5th. It is interesting in that I am not at all sure how I’ll vote. Of course, it won’t be conservative: I find them loathsome, given their backward stance on inclusive education. Their insistence that being opposed to immigration is not racist is frankly laughable: no matter what Howard might like to think, it is racist, and that particular party slogan is an attempt to soothe the consciences of racists who like to think they’re forward thinking. The fact remains that, as a western democracy, Britain has a duty to cater for immigrants, and we have more than enough infrastructure to do so. Further, the Tories’ stance on discipline in schools and crime is archaic to say the least: one gets the distinct impression that Michael Howard would bring back hanging and caning,, given the chance.

On the other hand, Blair isn’t much better. He lead us into a deeply unpopular and foolish war, an action which saw one million people march in protest against him. As it stands, the situation in Iraq is still chaotic, and it does not show many signs of improving. Moreover, Labour’s stance toward top-up fees also worries me – health and education should be free for all.

But what is the alternative to these two cretins? Charles Kennedy seems to induce narcolepsy. I like some lib-dem policies, but nor all. Besides, do the really have a chance of forming a government? Probably not.

As for UKIP, no zarking way!

So, looks like it’ll have to be labour. They lead us into a foolish war, but they’re better than the Tories. How sad – is this the state of British politics? We’re voting for the least worst candidate, rather than best. What a terrible state of affairs.

by far the funniest occcurence of today – and one that has to be recorded – was my broother pronouncing Papys as ‘peppies’. When I heard that, I simply sannk to my knees and howled. Wooohoo.

Mind you, it tells you what a trruly dull day it has been. Did a bit of work, watched some Time Team. That’s about it. Cant wait to get back to college next week.

It’s a fine day, and I have been out in my chair. Through Bilbo Baggins, Tolkien once said that roads are dangerous because you never know where they will take you. He was right: I can tour town and the countryside around Congleton for endless hours, seeing what there is to see, shopping, talking to people I meet. It’s great and far better than being cooped up inside. There is something about travel that refreshes the soul.

However, upon my return, I found this page open on my desktop. No doubt, Luke found it to encourage me to blog, but I’m grateful that he did. I find it both novel and fascinating: as a historic document, Pepys is invaluable, and the fact that someone has chosen to place it online as if it were a modern blog shows a great scholarly wit.

Recently, I’ve been communicating with tamsin Coruthers of 1Voice. This charity aims to teach young disabled kids to use communication aids through rolemodelling. This is a great idea – you have no idea how solitary lives of young disabled kids can be, when robbed of the ability to communicate. Therefore I must help, however I can. Of course, I can be quite a prat sometimes, so role-model may not be the right term, but I must help however I can.

I was lucky: with what speech I have I am able to brag, bully and wheedle sufficiently, and have a very supportive, if sometimes imbecilic, family. I am, however, aware that others will need support and help, and I could potentially be of service. The right to communicate is inalienable, for to deny it is to deny people free speech, upon which democracy is founded. Given that I have some expertise in this field – that is to say, I can use my Lightwriter with some proficiency – I have no choice but to offer my services. Not to do so would be negligence, and too many disabled people have been denied the right to speech before now.

I will help however I can. There are events to go to. The review of the fun day, appearing in their newsletter which I have in front of me, looked rather cool, although I doubt I could cajole the Lukester into taking me to such an event. I need a new PA! Either way, I’ll look seriously into joining, should be cool.

this is sick. I like a joke, but to make fun of this poor girl appalls me. as for my opinion on the case, as usual I can see both sides, but I think life should be preserved just in case. after all it isn’t so long ago that people thought us CCPers were brain dead, and I can’t help thinking of anne mcdonald. Of course, the two cases are totally different, but I think it shows hope remains.

Ok, so my blog is back up. Thing is, I’m rather tired, so I won’t write too much, but we went to visit my baby grand-nephew Jake in Sussex. Cute little tyke. Saw uncle Rich, aunt Jill, Adam and Ellen, and generally had a good time. Anyway, here’s a link to my [file=”1″]opera review[/file].

I’m back. after a period if about three weeks, I’m back blogging with my own domain. Our server basically screwed up. please update your favorites to http://www.matthewgoodsell.co.uk/ as the old address will not work for much longer

It’s the easter holidays. not much out of the ordinary happened. my fairy outfit made an appearence at the last disco of term. and I wrote a review of an opera I went to see at the RNCM, which was cool. I’ll post said review here soon.

yay. the sites bacck up. lord knows what went wrong. oh wait…thought we agreed he didn’t exist.

rather a dulll week anyway

I am getting worried about our American cousins. Some – but by no means all – of them seem to have taken aboard some truly scary ideas. I was in the bar on monday evening and got talking to two siblings from South Carolina. We got on to the subject of politics, although I’m not quite sure how. What I found scary was that this guy – they were a brother and sister – was very opposed to political descent. He thought that people should always support their government, and protests were wrong.

I didn’t argue, I just got scared. I believe protest is the cornerstone of democracy; without political protest, no government is accountable to its people. After all, was the United States not founded on the back of protest against Britain?

It occurred to me that this was symptomatic of thought in certain quarters of American society, or rather lack there of. I see parallels between this sort of statement and creationism: this is a “science” which seeks to prove that the Earth was created. As such, it is a science with an aim, which itself is not scientific. Science seeks to define and describe things, not prove. Darwin was simply describing one model of how life on Earth may have developed, and it just so happens that there’s a hell of a lot of evidence to support it. Furthermore, evolution is logical: all living organisms mutate randomly, some of which will be (by chance) better able to procreate than others. However, the creationists deny this logic, claiming that we were all created. Michael Behe has proposed an inteligent design theory on the basis that some organisms are too complex to evolve. Keh? Behe has also proposed that ‘inteligence’ itself is a force like matter and energy, or some such gibberish. OK, so he’s ignoring most scientific data, and bending what data he has to fit his ideas. Then he accuses scientists of being in some kind of priesthood. is this a joke? Such arguments are so easily debunked that it is worrying that people cling to them, just as the fellow on monday night worried me.