Not All Youngsters Are Nasty

You know, it is of course wrong of me to feel so negatively about young people; I shouldn’t just assume that they are all going to try to wind me up or take the piss. Today, for example, something really nice happened. I was out and about as usual on my daily trundle. I hadn’t gong far when I encountered a group of young people on their break from a nearby school. As usual I automatically felt hesitant and assumed that I would have trouble with them.

I told myself to try to ignore them. As I passed the boys though, one commented on my cap. These days I roam London wearing a red baseball cap with the words “Make America Think Again” on the front. Obviously having glanced it, one boy, probably aged about seventeen or eighteen, asked if I liked trump. I stopped and replied that I think Donald Trump is a disgrace to human civilisation.

What followed then was a decent, well informed conversation about American politics. To my surprise and relief, the young man had no intention of being hostile, taking the time to let me type into my iPad. It was only a brief conversation, at the end of which I told him about my blog, and we were soon both on our way; but it just goes to show that I shouldn’t just assume that everyone is going to bully me.

More About Po-Ta-Toes

I was just getting dressed while watching the bbc breakfast program, and they had an item about Christmas lunch. People kept saying the word ‘Potatoes’, and I noticed that I automatically thought the word ‘Po-ta-toes’ in response. That is, whenever anyone mentions the vegetable these days, there now seems to be an automatic connection in my brain to the scene in The Lord of the Rings when Sam and Gollum argue about the best way to eat fish. That makes me wonder why. Of course, I’ve loved that passage in Tolkien’s novel since Dad read it to me when I was a child: I remember laughing my head off when I heard Dad speak in Gollum’s voice (which, obviously, wasn’t the same as Andy Sirkis’s, although there are similarities). When I saw Peter Jackson’s rendering of it, translated pretty much word for word onto the big screen, I was thrilled. In fact, I would almost say it constituted a cinephiliac moment for me.

These days, of course, you can find references to that scene almost anywhere: it crops up quite regularly online on various fan pages, and you can even see it in supermarkets. It’s strange to think that something which was once so personal to me – a passage of text which I still vividly remember hearing in my father’s warm, loving voice – is now so widespread. It is now just another part of popular culture, and has become a meme. Just hearing anyone say the word ‘Potatoes’ on the TV is enough to make me think of it apparently, although whether that is due to seeing it crop up so regularly on the web, or in fact stems from my adoration of that scene as a child, is anybody’s guess. Nonetheless I find it interesting how this simple passage in Tolkien’s book has transpired and become something much larger. Cinema has the capacity to take such short pieces of text and magnify them, so that they almost gain a life of their own.

Strictly Come Yawning

It has to be said that, there are days when, as a disabled guy, a Trekkie, a Bond fan or whatever, I feel I ought to comment on something even though I don’t particularly have much to say about it. No doubt this morning we have all been made aware that Strictly Come Dancing was won last night by Chris McCausland, a blind comedian. Obviously, from a disability representation perspective, this is a bit of a coup, or at least enough to raise an eyebrow or two. Yet to be honest I can’t say that I’m that fussed. I’m not into Strictly: it’s the Beeb’s big, Saturday night flagship programme, aired at a time when I can usually find something far more interesting to watch. I don’t find it particularly engaging. I watched a bit of it last night I must admit, but none of the performances struck me as especially spectacular or engaging.

Thus the fact that a blind man has won Strictly this year doesn’t excite me at all. If anything, I suspect that a large proportion of his public votes would have stemmed from the kind of patronising, “Didn’t the cripple do well” reaction many viewers will have had, making this news slightly nauseating. Above all, however, you can probably mark it down as a massive PR win for the BBC, but apart from that it must be said I don’t give two hoots. Good, solid disability representation in mainstream media is still dismally low.

Street Preaching Complaint

I just sent the following to greenwich borough council:

Dear sir 

I am a Greenwich resident living in Eltham. As a wheelchair user I now use the Elizabeth Line quite frequently, and as such pass through Woolwich regularly. On my way through General Gordon Square this afternoon, I was extremely disturbed by a group of religious evangelical preachers: they were broadcasting their beliefs across the square so loudly that it was impossible to ignore. As an atheist I find such behaviour extremely offensive. In a city as multicultural and diverse as London, surely citizens have a right to cross a public square without religious dogma being hurled at them, so loudly that they cannot ignore it.

The religious group in question was apparently called Streams Of Joy. Would you please take my deeply held objections into account when you consider applications for such events. I find such spectacles extremely aggressive intrusive and arrogant.

Yours

Mattt Goodsell

What Could Even Come Close?

Oh how I hate these winter months: it’s so gloomy, dull and cold outside. It gets so dark so early, I can hardly go anywhere before it’s time to come home! I was just thinking, though, that it’s about tome for something massive – some huge media announcement which nobody saw coming, but which cheers everyone up. Think about the announcement of James Bond’s appearance at the London Olympics, the 2014 reunion of Monty Python, or the return of the Star Trek The Next Generation crew. I personally loved all three, but the question now is, what could even come close? I can’t really think of anything, but would love to hear your suggestions. It just seems so long since we have had any spectacular news like that. Answers in comments, please.

This Problem Is A Cultural One

I’m pretty sure I’m being paranoid, but kids seem to have become a lot more cocky, arrogant and disrespectful. I have noted here before how, these days, just the sight of a group of school children is enough to put my defences up: I worry that they will say something or start taking the piss.

It seems to be happening more and more regularly. Today, for instance, it happened twice when I was out on my trundle. I was passing a local school at about half past three earlier, when a group of boys on their way home decided it would be funny to start shouting things at me. I know I shouldn’t react as it just encourages them, but I really resent having to put up with being the butt of some school kid’s joke. Would anyone else just let them get away with it?

What, then, can I do about it. I thought about emailing the school headteacher, but given that I wouldn’t be able to identify the offending kids I doubt it would achieve anything. Besides, the bigger problem is that kids are becoming more brash and cocky in general as all their mass media rolemodels grow ever more headstrong, cocksure and arrogant. They think they have a right to bully and belittle people like me, who they seem to think are inferior to them and who can’t answer back. It’s a cultural issue; one which, unless we collectively do something about it, is only going to get worse and worse.

The Duchess Of Malfi

I have another theatrical recommendation for everyone today- an absolutely fascinating one. John and I went to watch The Duchess Of Malfi last night. Once again it was his suggestion, and I had never heard of it. However, John told me where to go, and I met him at the Trafalgar Theatre on Whitehall at half past seven yesterday evening.

What I found myself watching was fascinating. It is essentially a seventeenth century play about a woman, The Duchess, who falls in love with Antonio, her steward, but her brothers, Ferdinand and the Cardinal, forbid her from marrying him. They hire Bosola to spy on her, and he eventually discovers that she is pregnant. The Duchess and Antonio then elope and have three children in secret. The thing is, I didn’t know anything about it before going into the theatre, so because the actors were all in modern costume, I was at a complete loss about when the action was set. The dialogue was a strange mixture of antiquated and contemporary, with even a few elements that iambic pentameter, so I was never totally certain what I was listening to. The performance was a fusion of such a vast array of elements that I found myself totally captivated: this was contemporary theatre at its finest, somehow seeming both Shakespearean and modern at the same time.

As I rode the Jubilee Line home last night, I once again felt overwhelmingly lucky to live in this awesome city, where I can go to a theatre of an evening and watch such beautiful, captivating things. I was left intrigued by the fusion of archaic and contemporary which had both baffled and fascinated me; and by the way in which the play seemed to transgress time, seeming both historic and modern at once. It had drawn me in, reminding me how fascinating such performances could be. Best of all, though, it left me ravenous for more.

Nobody can take America Seriously any More

If anyone is expecting me to comment on what is currently happening in Syria, then I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s a hugely complicated situation, of course, and I know as much about it as any other lay person. I will say, though, that I had to raise a metaphorical eyebrow at the fact that Joe Biden has passed comment on what is currently going on there, as if what he says still has any resonance in the area. He is a lame duck president, of course, but perhaps more pertinently it implies he thinks that the US still has the authority and prestige it once enjoyed over world affairs. The recent election of Donald Trump has rendered America a joke; the entire world can now see that it has no idea what it’s doing politically. It may still have the resources, but America’s days as the world’s leading superpower are now at an end. Frankly the country is a laughing stock, so idiotic that it would elect a deranged fascistic charlatan as it’s president not just once but twice. Nobody can take America seriously any more. Thus for Biden to still think that anyone will take what he says seriously, as if he still leads the world’s most prestigious country, one possessed of the authority to control affairs in the Middle East, is frankly laughable.

Britain’s £48 Billion Benefits Scandal

If you’re interested in getting a bit of background to the phenomenon I call Cultural Intrusion – ie, the idea that increasing numbers of people are choosing to identify as disabled for economic or political reasons – then I would highly recommend watching this Channel Four Dispatches program. To be honest, I’m becoming more and more convinced that I’m not just imagining it, and that more and more people are choosing to identify as disabled when they previously might not have. This documentary just confirms it, detailing how the number of people on long term sickness benefits has gone through the roof in the last few years. The primary reason seems to be financial, as such benefits give people a guaranteed, regular source of income which they might not get through employment. Be that as it may, I can’t help wondering where that leaves guys like me, who have been disabled all our lives, survived the special education system, have to put up with being infantilised and treated as second class citizens etc: are we not having our social positions and life experiences usurped and commandeered by people who know nothing about what we have been through?

Streetview Now Works on the Tube

The epic news today is that I can now go up and down the escalators at tube stations…and I don’t even have to leave my flat. The not-so-good news is that it only works in certain stations – those that Google has bothered mapping. When I heard, a couple of days ago, that Google Streetview now works in several London underground stations, I found it rather exciting. Sad git that I am, I’m a big fan of both the tube and streetview, so I think it’s rather cool that I can now explore tube stations like Bond Street and Westminster without even having to go out.

Stranger Things Indeed

I honestly can’t decide whether today will go down as a treat, or whether I’ll remember it as a bit of a nightmare. For the first time in years I went to the theatre: it was John’s idea to go and watch a matinee performance of Stranger Things The First Shadow at the Phoenix theatre in Soho. To be honest I had never heard of it, but as ever I was eager to check out something new.

What I found myself watching this afternoon was unlike anything I had experienced before; for one it certainly wasn’t like my regular trip to the cinema. Of course I have watched plenty of plays, but this isn’t was darkness and more edgy. It’s essentially a horror story set in 1950s America, but it was performed in such a way that it made my heart pound in my chest repeatedly and scream out loud more than once. If I’m being honest, I must admit it made me feel rather uncomfortable.

On the other hand, from a technical perspective, it was masterful: the stagecraft reminded me how much I need to go to the theatre more often. It combined elements of film and live action seamlessly. Watching the actors weave their way across the stage was awe inspiring, like watching ballet dancers performing some magnificently intricate dance. I now intend to look up both the writer and director to see what else they have done.

I won’t go into any more detail because I won’t do it justice, but if you ever have chance to watch Stranger Things I would urge you to do so. It is edgy and suspenseful, and to be honest dragged a bit in places, but it is well worth an afternoon out.

Monty Python Is Being Misread

Late last night just before I went to bed I saw that, on one of the Monty Python fan pages on Facebook, someone had posted a link to the Military Fairy sketch, along with a comment like ‘How long before a snowflake takes offence at this?’ I didn’t react at the time, but of course that immediately struck me as staggeringly, breathtakingly ironic. The entire point of that hilarious sketch was to poke fun at the military; it was supposed to mock the martial status quo which had been present in Britain for the twenty years before it was broadcast. The irony is, whoever made the comment on the Facebook page obviously thought it was making fun of gay people, misinterpreting the sketch as somehow supporting their anti-woke, intolerant views when in fact it did precisely the opposite.

These days, more and more people seem to be claiming Monty Python and period comedies like it were right wing, anti-woke and politically incorrect. They say that they would never be allowed to air today, but that is a flagrant, deliberate misreading of what programs like Python were all about. As I wrote here, Python was left wing, not right wing; it was about poking fun at authority and the status quo, and everything that the right holds sacred. It irritates me that these reactionary morons now claim it as their own, using it as some kind of justification for intolerance. That totally warps what Monty Python was about, effectively hijacking to say exactly the opposite of what it was originally meant to. After All, the only people who would possibly offended by the Military Fairy sketch are the right wing nutcases to whom the army is above ridicule.

Did Simon Stevens Have A Point?

I have been going through my old entries again recently, just to double check that I put all the missing links back in place. This morning, I came across some of the old entries I wrote about Simon Stevens around ten years ago. You may remember, back then I had major disagreements with the guy: he was writing all sorts of stuff, in the Huffington Post and other places, which I saw as very problematic. Yet, looking back over it, I must admit that what he was saying isn’t too far from some of the positions I now hold. For example, here Stevens wrote “Nowadays, everyone seems to be happy to be labelled disabled as they list their many impairments, as having one impairment is never enough these days. When I fought to be allowed to do things others assumed I  could not do, disability has now been reversed.”

Broadly speaking, he seems to be writing about what I call Cultural Intrusion, where people now seem very eager to define themselves as disabled for sociopolitical reasons when they previously might not have. Of course, rereading his articles, there is a lot I still disagree with Simon Stevens on – he still seems annoyingly self-important, for one – but in retrospect I have to admit he may have been on to something. One way or another, having a disability is becoming more politically fashionable, so what people like Simon and myself were once encouraged to overcome in order to fit in with our able-bodied peers is now increasingly being flaunted.

Even so, this is all ultimately moot: I’m not sure when or why, but I have been told that Simon Stevens died recently. I wrote this entry because I felt that I needed to get it off my chest.

TfL Lifts Should Only Be For Wheelchair Users

After what happened today I’m seriously considering starting a campaign to make all the lifts on the London transport network strictly for wheelchair users only, or at least confined to people who strictly need them. It had started out as a pretty normal day: after seeing it flagged up on the breakfast news, I thought I would go up to Central London to check out the Qatari state visit. I took the Jubilee Line up there, getting off at green park. Predictably, however, I got there too late for all the festivities, so there was nothing left for me to do but head back.

Just to make things a little more interesting, I thought I would trundle to Westminster, take the Jubilee Line to Bond Street and from there get the Elizabeth Line to Woolwich. For some reason it impresses me that you can now transfer between the Jubilee and Elizabeth Lines at Bond Street without leaving the station.

It was there, though, that the problems started. As any Londoner probably knows, Bond Street is quite a complex station, with its labyrinth of tunnels, escalators and lifts. To be honest I find it rather fascinating how the engineers managed to merge the old and new parts of the station. This afternoon, however, when I attempted to use one of the older lifts, I found it was going very slowly indeed. Just as I was starting to think that I should have just gone straight home, it finally arrived, and I wheeled into it along with five or six perfectly able bodied people. Everything seemed to be fine, until we got to the required floor, and the lifts doors wouldn’t open. No matter how many times the button was pushed, the doors refused to open.

People gradually began to panic. After a few minutes one guy pressed the emergency button and spoke to the operator. She assured us that a maintenance guy was on his way, but nonetheless I was there stuck in a lift, getting more and more furious with the lazy p’tahks who surrounded me. If such lifts were only used by those of us who need them, they would probably all work perfectly well.

Obviously things were eventually resolved, and after about quarter of an hour the lift began working again. Truth be told things were never in much doubt; but the fact remains that the lifts on the TfL network are getting older and older, and the more they are used by people who are perfectly able to use stairs or escalators, the more likely they are to break down. Obviously there will need to be some exceptions, such as mums pushing prams, but if you ask me all lifts should be strictly reserved for those of us with no alternative. As with my grievance concerning prams occupying the wheelchair space on busses, it just seems so arrogant and self-centred. It is now clearly becoming so problematic that I feel I have to do something about it.

Imagining alternative futures of AAC

Today I think I’ll flag this video up of quite an important and interesting conversation between my friend Dr. Darryl Sellwood and Graham Pullin. It’s about the future of AAC and covers a range of issues. I don’t want to comment too much about it as I think it’s better to let the two highly informed men speak for themselves, although I must admit that what interested me the most about this conversation was that, rather than use a communication aid, Darryl’s contribution is revoiced by his PA Ferg. To be honest it struck me as a little bit awkward semiotically – I’d personally have used my VOCA – but I suppose it just goes to show that, these days, all methods of communication are just as valid if they get the message across.

Yesterday Had Nothing To Do With Religion

My parents called this morning to talk to me about the blog entry I posted yesterday. They pointed out something that I hadn’t been aware of, but which I now find troubling. Looking back I should have realised, but there was a major religious component to the protest yesterday. I had assumed the people opposing assisted suicide were doing so out of a well founded concern that it could lead to far more dark consequences, but my parents pointed out that many people were there for religious reasons.

Thinking about this while out on my trundle this afternoon, it should have been obvious really. Along with many disabled people, there were quite a few overtly religious people at yesterday’s protest. When they started to play religious music out of a loud speaker, I naturally took issue, assuming that they were trying to hijack the action for their own means. Later on in the afternoon, I also got into quite a heated debate with a couple of people over whether you need to believe in god to have a sense of morality, ethics and right and wrong.

The problem I have now, however, is that I really, really object to the notion that the political action I attended yesterday had any kind of religious basis. I was there in an effort to make sure that the lives of disabled people remain as long and as full as anyone else’s, and that there is no chance that people will start being coerced into ending them prematurely. My stance had nothing to do with any religion or belief system. Frankly, I find the idea that some people were only there because they saw the issue at hand in terms of their soul or relationship with god rather disturbing, as it completely distorts the genuine, well founded concerns of most of the people who were there.

The ‘right to die’ is a right to kill

I don’t want to get wound up tonight so I’ll try to keep this brief. It has been a long, difficult afternoon. Before now, I have always tried to position myself on the fence when it comes to assisted suicide: people have a right to choose what to do with their lives, including ending them if they so wish. Yet at the end of the day, there is no getting around the fact that what happened today in Westminster is very dangerous indeed. Legalising suicide under the guise of ‘Assisted dying’ effectively makes it legal for one person to kill another. Like many disabled activists, I worry that, whatever safeguards are put in place, sooner or later this bill will lead to people with disabilities or severe medical conditions starting to feel coerced or obliged into taking their lives. That is why I went up to Westminster this afternoon to join the protest against it.

Consciously or unconsciously, what happened today opened a very dangerous gate. After all, the right to die is the right to kill, and all too soon I fear we’ll see some very vulnerable people being offered euthanasia as an option. However rigid or stringent the new guidelines will be, the danger is they will be gradually watered down so that eventually more and more people will be offered assisted dying as an option. Frankly, I wonder whether it could one say include conditions like Muscular Dystrophy: if so, might this bill have included the guys I grew up with at school? Could they potentially have been given the option to end their lives; and might they have felt obliged to do so for the sake of their parents?

Perhaps not, but nonetheless I fear what happened today potentially opened the gate to somewhere truly dark. It ultimately sends out a message that certain lives aren’t worth living and should be ended in an act of compassion. However noble those who back this bill may try to frame it, today we crossed an extremely dangerous, dark threshold.

A Strange Remnant of Another Time

I have written about the pilot Inn before. It’s a pub on the North Greenwich Peninsula, not far from the O2. It looks like it’s a couple of hundred years old, and is at the end of a terrace of four or five houses. I go past it fairly frequently, either on a bus or just in my powerchair. I must say, though, that it’s looking stranger and stranger, and more and more out of place: like the rest of east London, the Greenwich Peninsula is getting rapidly built up. It has changed enormously even since I moved down here. Countless blocks of upmarket flats have sprung up where there were once car parks for the arena. Yet, oddly, The Pilot Inn has been allowed to remain where it is, like some remnant of a time long gone. More than ever, it looks totally out of place, the surrounding tall buildings leaning in on it; yet somehow still seems to being where it is. What more fitting image could there be of modern London in general?

Bring Back Brosnan?

If I can just put my James Bond fan hat on, yesterday I came across an idea which struck me as interesting enough to flag up here. The speculation over who will be cast as 007 next is still rumbling on, of course. As I touched upon here a few months ago, it has been so long since we have seen a new Bond film that I have almost given up hope, quite frankly. Browsing Youtube yesterday evening, however, I watched a video which laid out an idea which I think could have legs.

As I understand it, the problem the guys at EON currently have is the massive gap left by Daniel Craig: Craig’s five Bond films had such an impact on the Bond series that whoever is next cast as 007 will have bigger shoes to fill than anyone before them. That is not to say that I think Craig himself did not have a lot to live up to – when he was cast as Bond in 2005, he certainly did – but the expectations will now be bigger than ever before. Whoever they cast will be under a huge amount of pressure to step into cinema’s greatest role.

The intriguing solution I came across last night struck me as quite left field, but I think it could work: Could Pierce Brosnan be recast as 007? As bizarre as that might initially sound, I honestly think it has legs. The problem is, at the end of the last film, No Time To Die, we saw Bond as played as Daniel Craig get blown up. Not only did that put an end to his tenure but also effectively brought an end to the character in general. After all, how can you continue a film franchise about a man who we saw die in the last film? The answer this video suggests is to return the role to it’s last-but-one actor – an incarnation of Bond which we didn’t see die, thereby bypassing his screen death.

Admittedly this idea is rather far fetched. Brosnan is 71, and could be well past playing James Bond. Yet, as the guy in the video says, his four Bond films didn’t really have a satisfying conclusion; he just sort of lost the role and was just chucked out on his ear. Bringing him back, perhaps for just one more Bond outing, could be a way to redress that. It would also bring back the 007 many Bond fans, including myself, know from our childhoods or adolescences, thus tapping in to an element of nostalgia. Giving the role back to him would thus reset the Bond franchise post Daniel Craig, clearing the way for an entirely new actor to be cast as 007.

The Changing Metropolis

I still remember when these roads were new.
When this landscape seemed foreign, alien.
When this was a place for me to explore;
Stretching out in all directions like a vast labyrinth,
It’s concrete and tarmac so different from the green I was used to.

The people around me so distant and hostile.

Yet somehow the city has since shrunk.
And what seemed exotic is now familiar.
Paths which once begged to be explored are now well used.
And a metropolis which was once so vast and daunting
Now feels like home.

It’s people so welcoming and warm.

An Unpleasant Bus Ride Home

Something happened on the bus home this afternoon which I had never encountered before, but which I think I really need to vent on here about. I had had quite a pleasant afternoon, and was coming back from a trundle around the Olympic Park via Woolwich. I had just got on the bus and was looking forward to some lunch when a woman sat just behind me started shouting about ‘Jesus’. Now, I have written quite a bit on here before about how offensive I find street preaching: I find the notion that someone would try to force their belief system onto others while they are passing in the street the height of arrogance. What happened on the bus this afternoon, however, was far worse. That this woman thought she had a right, in the closed, confined space of a London bus, to try to force her belief system onto her fellow passengers was utterly infuriating.

Of course, when she started, I automatically felt the need to shout back and get the woman to shut the fuck up. No doubt my fellow passengers just wanted a quiet ride home; they didn’t want this arrogant cow shouting nonsense at them. The arrogance of this woman was sickening. Every time she started preaching I shouted back, hoping to make it clear that I found what she was doing utterly distasteful and abhorrent. Surely religion should be kept to yourself. To try to force it onto others in such a public space is, to me, unacceptable.

This exchange continued throughout my journey home. Every time she started shouting about Jesus, I shouted back to tell her to shut up. I’m not sure what the rules are regarding preaching on public transport, but TFL definitely should have a law against it. People can believe whatever nonsense they want of course, but to try to force it onto others as they are trying to get home is just perverse. Obviously, as I was wheeling off the bus at my stop, I heard the lady start to shout again. I really hope I’ve not just seen the first instance of something I’ll now encounter more often.

Assisted Dying, Religion and the News

I have noted my thoughts on assisted suicide on here before. Broadly speaking, while I think that people should ultimately have a right to choose what to do with their lives, and this should include ending them, I share the concern of others that, should the upcoming bill become law, terminally ill and vulnerable people will feel coerced and pressured into taking the suicide option. This concern is obviously shared by many others in the disabled community. Watching the issue being reported on the evening news just now though, I have to say that I’m not happy that the opposition to this change in the law seems to be being championed by religious leaders or clergy. The BBC report showed various bishops etc saying why this bill was such a mistake, but my opposition to it has nothing to do with religion. You don’t have to believe in any imaginary creator-beings to worry about the problems and issues this law may cause. More to the point, such reporting simply reinforces the wholly baseless, unearned authority such religious leaders claim: they were not voted into their positions, nor do they possess any special academic qualifications, yet they claim a right to appear on the evening news bulletin to give their opinions on a rather critical issue. Their authority is derived from a few outdated, debunked myths, but by framing these people in such a way, such authority is perpetuated and reinforced. I’m surely not the only person to see that as quite screwed up.

Re-Linking Exercise Complete

I just want to note something which I’m now rather pleased about. You may remember, a few months ago I blogged about going back and re-inserting all the links into my old blog entries. I wasn’t pleased that all the entries I’ve written over the last twenty years didn’t have the links I originally put into them. Well, it has taken me quite a while, but I have finally got there: all the links have been restored. It was quite a slow process. I did a month at a time, working back through my archive, but at last all 240 months worth of entries have their links back. Naturally I might have missed a few – you know me – so I don’t think this arduous exercise is finished quite yet and I’ll keep at it, but frankly it feels great to know the links I used in all my old entries are back.

A Quentin Tarantino Bond Film Would Have Ruled

If I can put my James Bond fan hat on briefly, I found this video interesting and worth flagging up. Did you know that Quentin Tarantino was considered to direct an adaptation of Casino Royale? He’s apparently quite a Bond fan, and after Pulp Fiction in 1994 was in the running to continue the series in the Brosnan era. According to this video, it would have been black and white, and starred Samuel L. Jackson as Felix Lieter. If you ask me, it sounds like it would have been awesome. Mind you, at the moment I daresay we’re going through such a James Bond drought that we can really do with more things like this: we really need a maverick director like Tarantino to get the franchise back on track post Daniel Craig, and to restore it to it’s usual cultural position. We haven’t seen a new Bond film in so long that the energy and excitement which they seem to bring to our culture is really starting to get missed.

The Listeners

I watched the first couple of episodes of The Listeners last night, and I think it’s worth flagging up. I seldom go in for new dramas like that, but I thought I would give it a try. To be honest I found it rather interesting: it’s about a group of people who can hear a strange sound which nobody else can. Obviously this can be read as a metaphor or allegory for some other minority, but the question is which. This group of individuals all begin hearing this odd noise, but have no idea anyone else can until they begin grouping together. What is the Beeb trying to tell us here? Who could this minority represent? Gay people? People with disabilities? In an era when just about everyone seems to be desperate to belong to one minority or another, such fiction seems quite timely.

The Return Of Captain Kirk

I wouldn’t be able to justly call myself a Star Trek fan if I didn’t flag this new short film up today. In it, William Shatner at last returns to the role of Captain Kirk – or at least appears to. As explained in this Trekculture video, it’s a fantastic film by Otoy films called Unification, which blends together old and new footage and has loads of awesome Star Trek references. While it isn’t the full on, big screen, resurrection of Shatner’s Kirk we might like to see – well, I would anyway – it is fantastic to see what people can produce these days. Watching it, it may strike you as slightly sentimental, but as they did with Regeneration a year or so ago, it’s great to see these characters who we trekkies grew up with return in some way. As I wrote when I saw that film, it’s also amazing to see just how advanced such unofficial online fan films are becoming. Ultimately, though, it’s a very touching short film indeed, particularly if you’re a Star Trek fan.

More Proof That Truss Is Nuts

Pretty much the first thing I came across on my Facebook after quite a long day out and about just now was this Huffington post report. Liz Truss is apparently now saying that the UK needs its own version of Donald Trump. “The former prime minister said she wanted to see a UK version of the president-elect’s Make America Great Again movement.” I’m sorry, but that really does defy belief: she was pretty much the shortest lived and most abjectly ruinous Prime Minister in British history, yet she seems to think that she still has the gravitas and authority to make such judgements. It’s as if she sees herself as some kind of great leader worthy of respect, rather than the epic mistake which history will record her to be. To make matters worse, any thinking person can see what an utter disaster Trump will be, not just for America but for the entire world. For Truss or anyone to say he is some sort of goal worth aspiring to is patently ridiculous, and just makes her look even more unhinged.

I just wanted to flag this up because it struck me as so ludicrous.

Better Public Transport For Everyone?

Staying with the public transport theme from yesterday, earlier I came across this report that the government wants to spend £1bn on bringing public transport in the rest of the country into line with London’s. If you ask me, it’s about time. These days, I’m used to being able to wheel on and off busses and trains without help. Public transport in the capital is far from perfect, of course, but it’s far better than that outside of it. For instance, whereas around here I’m used to busses having automatic wheelchair ramps, to the best of my knowledge, outside of London bus drivers still have to get out of their cabs to open the ramps manually. While that may only sound like something minor, believe me, when you’re faced with grumpy, reluctant bus drivers who see letting you on and off their bus as nothing more than a burden, having an automatic ramp which glides smoothly out to let you on without a fuss is a great relief. I really hope that busses across the country will now be brought up to the same standard. More to the point, it seems to me that, while London is used to getting massive new infrastructure projects like Crossrail, the rest of the country gets woefully left behind; perhaps this plan will go some way to resetting that imbalance.

Discovering The London Overground

I found something pretty cool out today. Believe it or not, I had never used the London overground before: I had always assumed it was too complicated, inaccessible and generally not as as advanced as the tube. Mind you, I had been intending to try it out for a while, just to establish whether it could be of any use to me after all. Today, though, I was out on my trundle again: I was up near Farringdon and it was about time to head home, so I thought I’d just hop on to the Elizabeth Line to Woolwich.

The problem was, at the station I was told that the Elizabeth Line wasn’t running today. When I heard that I automatically started to panic slightly – how the smeg was I going to get home? However the man then told me that I could take the overground instead, a suggestion which I found pretty interesting.

That, then, is what I did: it was a smooth, uneventful ride back to Woolwich, if somewhat slower than the Elizabeth Line. Mind you, I enjoyed some great views across South London on the way. More importantly though, I now know that the London overground is accessible, usable, and I’ll certainly try to use it more from now on. All I would need to do is make sure there is someone waiting for me with a ramp at wherever I’m going. Given that there’s an overground station not far away from me in Kidbrooke, this is potentially a very useful discovery for me indeed.

Mark Kermode Reviews Gladiator Two

I just got in from my usual afternoon trundle, and decided to watch this review of Gladiator 2 by Mark Kermode while I ate my late-afternoon snack. I’m not usually that big a fan of such sequels – I’d just assumed it was an attempt to revive a twenty-five year old franchise – but the way Kermode described it has won me around. Believe me, he makes it sound incredible: the film apparently involves colossal battles, space-monkeys and everything! Listening to the review is a treat in itself, but now I really want to go and watch the film.

I’m a ‘Cyborg of Necessity’, Apparently

One of the first things I came across when I started browsing Facebook this morning was this very interesting academic paper by my friend Darryl Sellwood, et al. Darryl is fast becoming a great disability studies academic and writer, who I must admit puts me to shame. The paper broadly argues that the choices and decisions surrounding Alternative and Augmentative Communication (AAC) should be primarily made by AAC users; that is, people who actually use communication aids should be the primary voice in the future of the field, the rules, customs and habits surrounding it. I find that perfectly obvious, and it gets no argument from me.

Reading the paper, though, I came across quite an interesting phrase which stuck in my mind. The text seems to switch from area to area quite a bit, presumably as it goes from sections written by one of it’s five authors to another. One of the authors refers to AAC users as ‘cyborgs of necessity not choice’, a phrase which resonated with me quite a bit, and which I think needs exploring. In my 2014 MA thesis, I touch briefly on how the equipment I use to communicate and move around could be said to evoke Borg implants. The Borg are, of course, the cyborgs of Star Trek. When I was writing my thesis, I think I meant this as quite a cute, throwaway remark; yet I am obviously not the only person to pick up upon the correlation. Does the use of specialist equipment by disabled people really render us cyborgs? What could the sociocultural implications of that be? Could we really seem like the hostile, unfeeling drones bent on assimilating every other lifeform which Star Trek depicts? After all, most mainstream science fiction franchises frame cybernetic organisms, from The Borg to Darth Vader, as some form of aggressive, malevolent enemy. To be honest being called a cyborg, albeit one of necessity, throws up a few quite dark implications and connotations which aren’t all that comfortable, yet which I think need looking a bit deeper into.

A Good Opportunity to end the Anachronism

I heard on the news this morning that Justin Welby has resigned and the so-called Church of England is now looking for a new leader. Well, I have a far better idea: wouldn’t this be a good opportunity to disband the church altogether? I’ve written on here before about how profoundly undemocratic and anachronistic I find it. It is a body which derives it’s authority from a set of outdated, thoroughly refuted myths; it’s members weren’t elected through any kind of public vote; yet the leadership of this church claims the right to intervene in our politics. To make matters worse, it is now clear that this organisation has been covering up child abuse within it’s ranks for decades. The church leadership obviously knew this abuse was happening but did nothing, pretending it was completely oblivious and innocent. In any other context, were this any other organisation, it’s leadership, including Welby, would be standing trial. Were this a supermarket chain, or a high street bank company, whose executive knowingly allowed it’s employees to abuse children over several decades but hushed it up, the scandal would be huge. The company would probably be broken up. Yet because it is a religious organisation it seems to be above the law, including those concerning child abuse. Does that not strike anyone else as utterly fucked up?! If we are indeed a modern, educated democracy, surely this is something we must outgrow.

Stepping Towards a Dangerous Slope

The subject of assisted suicide has cropped up again today. Before now I have always tried to appear on the fence on the issue, unable to quite say whether I was for or against it. Yet, the truth is, the more I think about the notion, the more repugnant I find it. Of course, I’m not speaking from any form of religious or spiritual standpoint; I just feel that life is to be cherished and lived for as long as possible. If we only have one life to live, why would anyone want that finite existence to end sooner than it otherwise might? The world is full of so many awesome things, why would anyone want to die before experiencing as many of them as possible?

More to the point, legalising assistant suicide brings up a few hideous possibilities: roads so dark and dangerous we cannot risk going down them. As many others are pointing out, this bill may start us down a slippery slope which ends with people being coerced or encouraged to end their lives. People with disabilities might start to feel like a burden to others, and suicide might be presented to them as some kind of altruistic option. No matter how far fetched this scenario might seem, no matter how many safeguards are put in place, that is a risk we cannot take.  One step down this path opens the door to a plethora of hideous possibilities,which is why I stand (or sit) with any other disability rights activist worth their salt in opposing it. 

The World’s Greatest Charlatan on The World’s Biggest Stage

They may still be four years away, but I have recently started thinking about the Los Angeles 2028 Olympic Games. Believe it or not, I still have a wierd interest in the Olympics: it seems to me that they are the world’s single biggest sporting and cultural event, bringing the attention of the entire world onto one city for about two months every four years. There is no other cultural event, festival or phenomenon like it, or which holds so much power or impact.

The next games will, of course, be held in Los Angeles. Before now, I saw no problem with that, and was looking forward to them, and particularly the Olympic and Paralympic ceremonies. Last week, however, the United States took an extremely dark turn by re-electing Donald Trump, who will still presumably be in office in 2028. I am now wondering whether trump will try to hijack the games somehow. We all know what an egomaniac he is: might he attempt to make the games, or at least the ceremonies, about himself? Might he try to turn them into a festival of self-justification and aggrandisement? Given the opportunity of having the entire world’s attention drawn onto an American city, I wouldn’t put it past him.

Granted, by 2028 Trump will be 82, and may well not be around any more. But if he does try to commandeer the games and turn LA28 into his own personal ego trip, the results could only be hideous: Imagine Trump’s vile cult of personality writ large to epic proportions; abhorrent far-right vomit delivered on a platter covered with the star-spangled banner. The international Olympic committee will have handed the world’s biggest stage to the world’s greatest charlatan, which is why, frankly, I’m starting to favour reallocating the 2028 Olympics. If trump has his way, by then America will be something approaching a fascist dystopia, and surely anything would be preferable to seeing the Olympic Games, which for so long has been a festival of global unity, sportsmanship and tolerance, abused and distorted by such a fallen country and it’s megalomaniac leader.

Rocking Out in Trafalgar Square

Yesterday was yet another of those days which reminded me how awesome living in London is. To be honest I didn’t have much of a plan: I have a new anti-Trump hat which I thought I’d go try to show off in Parliament Square, but I fancied a bit of a trundle first. I caught the Elisabeth Line to Tottenham Court Road, and had a look round Soho. There wasn’t much going on there, so I headed towards Westminster.

On my way through Trafalgar Square, however, I got rather distracted. The square was swelling with people; people were selling food from vans. I encountered a street preacher who, naturally, I instantly started to tell to shut up. I then got into a debate with him about the nature of reality, which lasted about half an hour. But it was only when that ended that the fun really began.

Heading towards the entrance to Whitehall I started to hear music: cool, rock music of the kind I usually like. Some guys were playing in that end of the square, and people were starting to gather to listen. There were three or four of them: fairly young, and they looked rather funky. The young lady on the drums struck me as especially impressive. The crowd around them was growing, and starting to get into the swing of things.

Needless to say I joined them. I was rather hesitant at first, not wanting to cause any trouble, but pretty soon I was rocking about, flying around in my powerchair like a mad-thing! The band seemed to welcome it, and the funky-looking lead singer encouraged me. They were playing all kinds of cool things, including American Idiot by Greenday. That, of course, lead me to ask if they knew Basketcase, and when they started playing it, the buildings around the square echoing to the lyrics “Do you have the time, to listen to me whine…” I went into full rock mode. The afternoon had suddenly become awesome.

Between songs, the lead singer spoke to the crowd, introducing the band as The Vone. They were busking of course, and asking for donations. I instantly took a liking to this group of young people, and was especially taken by how the lead singer took the time to see what I was typing into my Ipad. Their gig lasted about an hour or so, after which I started talking to them. The lead singer, Marcello, thanked me for my dancing, and I apologised for stealing the show somewhat. As the band packed up their things, I asked if they fancied a beer, and Marcello told me that they were about to go to a nearby pub, inviting me along.

The rest of the evening was spent getting to know my new friends. Marcello turned out to be a fascinating guy: I had assumed he was American given his accent, but he was from brazil. He works as a musician for Cbeebees. He also told me that he lives in Woolwich, so there is a chance we could meet up again. London has this incredible ability to introduce you to fascinating people, so that every morning you never know who you’re going to meet or what you’ll encounter. Yesterday was another of those amazing days which suddenly morphed into something incredible. I have new friends and new memories – what more could I ask for?

I See Trees Of Green

Hold on, hold on. The sky may be grey and winter might be fast setting in; across the Atlantic, we may well have seen the return of fascism to world politics for the first time in eighty years; there may be dark, troubled times ahead. Yet this week we also saw something far more remarkable: something which I find more remarkable than James Bond, The Olympics, Star Trek, Monty Python or anything like that. This week we saw the greatest broadcaster ever return to our screens: Sir David Attenborough.

I was going to blog about this a few days ago, but left it. I find Sir David incredible. To think that he started broadcasting before either of my parents were born in 1952, and is still presenting such fascinating, beautiful nature documentaries is absolutely jaw-dropping. More to the point, he has made us more aware of the natural world than any other person, bringing it’s wonders into our living rooms and guiding us through it’s intricacies as nobody else could. Attenborough’s current series is about Asia, of course, but through him and only him we have grown to understand the entire world; and it is indeed wonderful.

As far as I am concerned, Attenborough stands head and shoulders above any other broadcaster, regardless of genre, nationality or anything else. The body of work behind him is incredible. His voice alone seems to have the ability to engross us, so that when we start watching his programmes the wider, more troubled world fades into the background, and for forty-five minutes or show we are captivated by what we are being shown. This can range from the sight of elephants tromping across the African savannah to earth-worms crawling through English gardens. To think he has been doing this for seven decades is incredible – Attenborough truly is a national treasure.

The world may be troubled right now: War is flaring in Eastern Europe and the Middle East; and the world’s most powerful nation has elected a fascistic charlatan as it’s president. The future, especially over the next few months and years, is unclear and uncertain. Yet I find great solace in the fact that there are still some constants in the world, upon which we can all depend. David Attenborough is one such constant; he seems to be above all the mirk and grime, cutting through it to show us the beauty of nature beneath. He is far, far greater than any of the charlatans, monsters or idiots of the political world, and no doubt will still be cherished long after they have faded into irrelevance.

Are Piedros Fashionable Now?

I swear I saw a woman wearing piedros on the tube yesterday evening. Piedros are a kind of special boot which my school friends and I were forced to wear, made specially for us by a guy who visited the physio department. They were very stiff, and were supposed to hold our feet in the right shape, rising high above the ankle. Yet the woman on the tube was clearly able bodied, and was wearing them along with a very short back dress and a cream-coloured blazer. Sat next to her boyfriend, she was obviously one of those fashionable people who think London exists simply to be seen in: they must have been going to some kind of event or party. She was obviously trying to be trendy, but her shoes were clearly the kind given to disabled kids, or at least resembled them very closely. Could piedros be in fashion? The irony of that would just be too hilarious!