I was at a bit of a loose end last night. I never want to work much in the evenings, when typing is at it’s hardest, and jen and ash, who I usually pop in on, were busy learning lines. So, reluctant to spend the night in my room, alone, and noticing there was a performance on in the arts centre, I took myself over to the axis theatre. A theatre company were performing a series of monologues there; they were quite good, and it was actually extremely thought provoking. The theme concerned the split between country and the city, segregation, race – I couldn’t quite work out their politics, although, in retrospect, this is a good thing as it allowed you to make your own mind up.

Lynn and faythe were there, and afterwards we went to brandies for aa nightcap. After a while, the cast came in, and eventually we got chatting. I must say I was very impressed to find out that one of the cast had met both Gandalf and Picard, I mean sir Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart, but I didn’t find out much more about the politics of the show. Whose side was it on, if any?

This is why I love uni – being able to cruise over to the theatre to take in a show after a day of study. Yes, academia suits me very well indeed.

Today has been okay. Started by reading, then wrote 1001 words on why the cinephiliac moment is not punctum. Then, this afternoon I was looking for something to put on my blog. After a while looking through silly videos made by phyios, I came across this: CRIPPLEPORN! Mwahahaha

[nsfw]

Although it was my friend gilles (pronounced jeel) birthday this weekend, I’m pleased to announce a historic win over the French – in conkers! Not only did we beat them in rugby, but we also tthwacked them at conkers. Mwahahaha! Now who’s mother is the hamster?

link

these guys give me certain ideas, of which my father would not approve. mind you, gettiing onto a bus yesterday I did a wheelie; scared me shitless frankly. if you ask me, buss ramps only pay lip-service to accessability – I mean, have you tried manouvering a chair onto a bus. Thats what I call extreme chairing.

Dear Mr. CaMoron

You will probably now be feeling quite pleased with yourself after Wednesday’s performance in the commons. By most reports,, you gave Mr. brown a seriously bloody nose. However, believe me, sir: you should not be feeling so smug. It is blatantly obvious to me and, one hopes, most of the British public that you are nothing more than a sham. It is clear that you are emulating the style of Tony Blair ten years ago in the hope of emulating his success, but it is also clear that this is a mere illusion. One which will disappear the day you are elected – either you will drop the platitudes to the middle ground, or your backbench will revolt. I therefore find that you made very similar accusations at Mr. brown laughably hypocritical, to the point that you insult my intelligence.

I, sir, am a masters student with a first class bachelors degree from Manchester Metropolitan University. I also have Athetoid cerebral palsy. I see myself as a product of inclusion, for it was only until I left my woefully inadequate special school that I truly started to learn. I saw first hand how such schools fail children: they do not encourage their charges, but rather leave them to rot intellectually. My intellectual stimulation came from my parents, and hence, to my knowledge, I am the only person in my school year to get to university, to my knowledge. Therefore I cannot let you inaugurate a return to segregated education. Indeed, were you to do so I would see it as a breach of human rights and subsequently a violation of the Geneva convention. Moreover, such a move would violate numerous united nations resolutions, and I would therefore have no choice but to write to the sectary general and ask he impose sanctions on the u.k as they did to south Africa during the era of aphartied. For the one is tantamount to the other: both are born of the will to separate; and there is no intellectual reason for either. Further, I see that the act of teaching kids with special needs in separate institutions as intimately linked to housing them separately – as placing them into care homes. My fear is that one will lead to the other, for both are governed by the same ‘logic’. Were this to happen, I fear that not many disabled kids will follow me into higher education.

In short, sir, I will not let you, through your ultimately nave, short sighted and closed minded policies (despite their thin veneer of reasonable presentation) set disability rights and this country on the whole back a decade. I hope this country realises what to me is obvious: that you are a fraud, a sham, and that your performances at being respectable are nauseatingly hollow.

Yours

Matt Goodsell.

All in all it hasn’t been a bad day. I started reading after breakfast, at 9, and when I looked up it was lunchtime. I was fascinated by what I was reading – the writer, whose name I forget and can’t be arsed to get the article out of my bag, mentioned something called the ‘cinephilic moment’: a moment in a film when one is awe struck. Importantly, he wrote that this can occur without the directors intent. It can be an accident – the wind in trees etc. well hello! Can we say ‘roland Barthes’? this is exactly what I’ve been mulling over since last week – great moments in film which catch you, ‘prick’ you. I’m not sure it can be called punctum in the strictest sense, but… well, lets just say I’m fascinated.

In other news, today saw the return of gospel choir. I rolled over to watch. A, because I like the music, and b to make sure Dom did it right. He did. By the end, despite only having to bass voices, they were sounding pretty good. Seems I had nothing to worry about.

I’ve been looking at photographs quite a bit recently. Barthes was right, I think – they do have a strange, magical quality to them inasmuch as they capture a fraction of a second for eternity. They make time stop. They ratify the past in a way that no other art form can, proving unambiguously that the past did indeed happen. They are causes of both joy and sorrow as they remind us simultaneously that, while the past may never come again, their existence links us to history and in a way provides hope for the future.

Today I went and got a frame and made a collage of my photos, mostly using ones from graduation, Newquay and the summer ball. I’m pretty pleased with the result. The stillness of these images gives them an eternal quality. They’re moments in time captured forever, an effect underlined, at least for me, by their framing. Barthes was indeed right, therefore, when he wrote that punctum can only be found in the still photo. These images prick me, both with pain, for I miss my friends, but also with happiness as the collage will serve to tie me to the past. As with the photo at home in the conservatory, and the ones Charlie gave me for my birthday, they commemorate the last three years. They remind me of my friends; they also tell me that I can do anything.

This is inane. You may recall that joss suggested I stood for disabilities officer.. I went to see kev in the union who gave me the address of the general sectary of the union. Today she replied,, apologising for the day, but telling me that the post could only be filled by a student who studied up in Manchester, rather than at the Cheshire faculty. Wtf? What a stupid rule. I printed the email and showed it to joss and kev, who both agreed it was stupid. How inane.

This is cool: the proper, final-cut version of the 1voice music video is up. It kicks ass. I love it. Its quite hip actually, ‘meaning much more than most other music videos. Its also food for thought in terms of my cinephilia project – it is, after all, a film. To a certain extent, I’d argue that it has punctum, although Barthes suggested that only the still image can ‘prick’. Perhaps I better modify Barthes slightly…anyway I digress. Big shout out to everyone involved. The guys at 1voice especially. I ought also to mention the mmu gospel choir and their kind donation again. They rule too. Anyway, go watch; if you’ve already seen it, watch it again!

I’m unsure weather it’s a good idea or not. Ii had a meeting yesterday with joss west burnham. Earlier in the week I’d sent her a note (Colin, at that time, still being broken) about the whole inclusion issue. As I see it, its all about encouraging kids, telling them that, no matter what their disability may be, they have as muck potential as anyone else. Very conveniently, dad returned my good-as-new lightwriter yesterday (yay!) so I was able to discuss this with joss, who is head of ‘widening participation’, an organisation here on campus designed to encourage kids to come to uni. Joss saw my point, and seemed very enthusiastic, but then she made quite a cool suggestion: rather than going to talk to kids with SEN, which, we agreed, would smack of tokenism, perhaps I should go to talk to teachers. Teachers who aren’t optimistic about a kids prospects will fail to encourage their students. One way of solving this problem is to go to its source, or one of them. We need to make sure that teachers know a disabled kid has as much potential as any other. It also occurs to me that I would have quite a bit in common with a person who has just begun teacher training, inasmuch as we’re kind of at the same academic level, just finished our degrees etc. would that make me more suited to the task?

I don’t know what, if anything, will come of this, but it certainly is an interesting idea.

Charlie came back yesterday evening, just for the night. She needed to see Dom about gospel choir – Dom’s now taken over as leader of the gospel choir. To be quite honest I don’t envy him: charlotte moulded the quire into one hell off an organisation during her tenure as leader, and he has a lot to live up to. For my part, I plan to still drop by on rehearsals, just to make sure the dwarf’s not ruining it.

It was great to see her though. We spent the evening together, eating in the plough, then changing before going to jen’s for pre-brandies drinks. It was great to catch up: I’m pleased to report charlotte’s loving teacher training, and it’s very apparent that she’ll one day make an excellent music teacher. She’s finding the work-load on the heavy side, as I am with my MA, but that’s to be expected. Its nothing either of us cant manage.

We also hatched a few plans: we want to get as many of the guys together as possible and go somewhere in Europe next summer. I said Paris and c agreed. That would be great, although I better warn mark and Kat beforehand.

Well, what else can I say? It was a great evening, talking, dancing, having fun. We both went to bed early – c had an early start. Can you believe as I type she’ll be teaching kids? Ha! Neither of us, I should say, got drunk – just tipsy. We were both in bed by 11.30, Charlie staying on jen’s floor (my floor is now wooden lino and looks wholly unappetising to sleep on). I’m not sure when I’ll see her next, but, if I’m invited, she wants to go to the 1voice winter event – a great idea if you ask me. Maybe I could take both her and Steve – now there’s an idea!

Well, its time I too started work. As I say, it was great to see her, but the real world, work, and definitions cannot be postponed indefinitely. Plus, now I have Paris to organise. Yay!

behold the dissembling and worming of a prty hungry for power. since whan have the conservatives ever been the party of the future? they still wish it wass 1860! to hear them describe labour as having ‘old politics’ is the worst case of pots and kettles I’ve seen in years. for all his posturing and appealing, Camoron is still a little power-crazed worm intent on maintaining the status quo

I still love this place, even after four years. I was just over in emberton south with maria and burien. Burien was helping maria make a model bird for a performance a phoenix. Maria is supposed to bond with the bird; become the bird. Given that’s its papier machet, I’m not sure how that will work, but hey, its ctp.

A short while earlier, I was talking to burien about his plans to make a perpetual motion machine. I showed him the wikkipedia article on thermodynamics, but he still says he’ll give it a go. Should be interesting. Time to go back to check how the birds coming along.

How come whenever CaMoron comes on TV, I start hurling obscenities at the screen? For all his attempts to appear nice and friendly and reasonable, its blatantly obvious that its all a show to anyone with a knowledge of history. Conservatism isn’t ‘nice’. It isn’t forward thinking. Conservatism is about maintaining the status quo and class division. Since when has it concerned itself with things like the environment, save when it’s likely to win votes. And then. Yesterday on TV, CaMoron has the gall to say brown is all show and no substance. Talk about hypocrisy! This coming from practically the most showy, shallowest candidate in history! Bah!

Anyway, stuff to do – photocopying, eating, reading and zooming. Before I go, I’ll say hi to mark and Kat in their new digs in Paris; Luke wherever the hell he is (Manchester?) and all my friends.

its been a bit of a busy day, so I’ll just link to this frankly very disturbing article from tom Shakespeare about violence against cripples. I’m off to organise paying my p.a before she gets violent! [kidding]

I went to brandies again last night, for the dickshow. It was superhero night, so there was spandex galore – I especially like the catwoman outfits a few of the girls were wearing. I had on a red cape, blue unitard and the letters ‘S C’ pinned to my chest, for Supercripple. Well, it amused me at least.

Yet halfway or so through the evening, it occurred to me that I wasn’t supposed to be there. I’m now a postgrad, supposed to be respectable. My life as a tearaway undergrad is over – maybe I should stop going. I put this to jen, who swiftly told me to stop being stupid. I had every right to be there, she said, more than most. I smiled: I was, after all, enjoying myself. Then I thought of the past, about school. About the lads who never got to go to uni, let alone graduate, or go to discos. I had, therefore, a duty to enjoy myself, in whatever way I see fit.

With that I sipped my beer.

While I am usually cautious about singling out any one person to stand for an entire group – people aren’t metonyms – I think this is quite a good short film about how one little girl has been included in the American school system. As far as I can see, that’s one thing Americans do better than us. I think this film is exemplary; I’d like to draw attention especially to the section where the teacher outlines how, without prompting, all the other kids help the girl. I hope all the anti-inclusion, nay saying idiots watch this.

It’s rather ironic that a day after my lightwriter breaks vocas feature on radio 4. I’m listening to it as I type, and have already heard nadia speak in the intro. As for me, I’ll continue to use my shoebox-mounted letter chart till I get my lw back. My friends have already named it barry, colins little bro. Anyway, go listen to mondays you and yours here

Evenings on campus can be quite beautiful, especially in the autumn when the leaves start to turn golden in the sunset. The view, as I drove defiant home this evening, was stunning. Just a fraction of a second, when the light of the setting sun hit the puddles, I was in awe. All weekend I had this nagging feeling at the back of my mind: do I still belong here? All my friends have gone from my year – should I have returned? Am I up to the task at hand? And then the light hit the water, and I could hear my friends talking as they turned or their homes, and the answer came: yes. I can do this! already I’m more comfortable with my subject. I can grasp it. In that moment, all fear left me, and I felt once more at home.

Colin broke again yesterday. It won’t respond to anything I do. Dad and mum had to come get him earlier in order to send him to be repaired, and from the way it looked I doubt I’ll get him back soon. This, as you can imagine, is a pain in the ass. It makes communication with anyone – especially those who don’t know me – ten times more difficult. I suppose it could be worse – this year I only have weekly meetings with Alan, rather than lessons per say, so academically it won’t hold me back too much. It’s just when I’m with friends, or in the library. But to every problem there is a solution: jen has already made me a ‘letter chart’, and when going to the library I can print off the book reference I need before setting off. Ho hum.

And I cant be too glum when Palin’s on tonight!

Last night I was in ashleys room. She’s American, but we don’t hold that against her (much). We were waiting for jen and co to return from the beauticians, and were planning to just drink and talk, which is pretty cool. Anyway, probably inspired by watching olly throw a ball about her room, Ashley showed us this. I thunk it’s one of the most astute orations ever. It may be just about monkeys, but it is what we are. A hairless ape. Go listen.

I was at the centre for social inclusion today – finally got round to picking the photos from my exhibition thingy – and joss west-Burnham was there. I guess that isn’t surprising given that she is in charge of it. She greeted me: ‘I’m glad you came, Matt, we’ve had an idea. We think it would be good if you stood for disability officer at the union.’ Now, this was coming from a highly respected member of the academic staff. She told me to think about it, offering to help me with my election bid.

Now, I’ve got to ask certain questions of certain people, but, as it stands, I think I’ll say yes.

Need a hobby anyway.

I now feel much better! Daunted, but better. My meeting with Alan went well, and we sorted out precisely what I’m going to look at. We had a long talk, he gave me various instructions and tips, and set me to work. I have quite a bit of reading to do, but that’s cool. Not much else to do during the day. Tonight, however, is disco night; I’ve missed it tremendously. Of course, it will not be quite the same without my mates – I’ll miss going round to charlottes before the disco especially – but now I have jen, olly and the gang to leech off, err, I mean hang out with. Jen’s coming her at 7 to help me get ready. Should be cool. Then, after breakfast tomorrow, reading proper commences.

Life is good!

This is natural – or should be – and kind of hardly worth noting, but there are two more cripples on campus this year. Both wheelchair users. I was going about campus today, turning the corner of the Wes, and I saw a girl in an electric wheelchair, being followed by a person who I presume to be her PA. they both went over to look at the map by the bushes, looking rather lost. I decided to go over, being a responsible master’s student, and offer my help.

They asked for the contemporary arts block was. I pointed to it, and asked hem to follow me. They did, and I lead them to the door (my chair is faster than hers!) The new girl thanked me, and we parted. Not a good story, I know, and hardly worth noting, but it was cool to me. Finally more wheelies! Hopefully this is a sign of things to come, although, it should be said that if CaMoron gets elected and instigates his anti-inclusion policy, I fear this trend has a real chance of being reversed.

So, here I am, back at uni. I’m back to do my masters. This should hopefully be a lot of fun, and I’m looking forward to getting down to it. For the time being, though, I’m just sorting stuff out with Esther, doing paperwork, etc. research proper should begin on Wednesday after my first meeting with Alan. Then it’s onto the scopic drive and post-Metzian filmic grammatics (or whatever it now is).

For the most part, I’m happy. the one thing which is currently tugging on my heart is that nearly all of my friends from my year are not here. I’m already missing them, and have been all summer, but it’s just the nature of things. They’re all off doing their own thing, naturally, as I am. And it’s not as if I won’t see them again. It’s just that…well, you know.

On the upside, it’s kind of like I’ve just said ‘bank’ on the Weakest link. Scary as it may be – and it is rather scary – this year I’m adding to what is my finest ever achievement. It makes me smile to know I have that safety net, as well as giving me a huge boost of confidence. I’m probably waffling now.

Anyway, normal service will now resume. I’ll now be able to write daily blog entries again. If you like piffle, stay tuned. Should be quite an interesting year..

We got back from our summer holiday in Crete at three last night. For some reason, the only flight from hiraklion to Manchester is always at the dead of night, which is foolish because then you have to waste much of the next day recovering. This morning, I must say I feel worse than I did when we got back from Sydney, but part of this feeling is worry about going back to uni on Monday. It’s scary.

Anyway, Crete: I must say it didn’t strike me as very beautiful. There’s no running water on the island in terms of rivers and streams – not in these summer months so the mountains are rather dry. We had many drives up into the hills; ordinarily, this would have fascinated me, but wherever we went, there seemed to be a lack of colour and beauty.

Don’t get me wrong: there are certainly beautiful places on the island. I saw a few of the most stunning sunsets I or anyone would ever hope to witness while there. My brother Luke, it seems, is a good amateur photographer, and he took some jaw-dropping shots from the pier of our hotel. I was reminded of Basil Pao’s work when I saw them. With a bit of luck he’ll let me post some on facebook.

My archaeological side got sated too. I got to romp around some magnificent ruins this holiday. Mind you I must say that the famous palace at Knossos has been rather ruined (forgive the pun) – it is now too much of a tourist attraction, where one can be lead by a tour guide who clearly knows nothing of history, around re-built structures based on conjecture. It was tourism, not history. Far more impressive were the ruins in the south of the island [matt forgets name] where one can see an actual ancient law court with an inscription of all the ancient Greek laws on the rear wall. It was almost like looking at the birth of democracy, or perhaps it’s grandparents.

As with our trip to Australia, there isn’t time to tell you everything that happened in one blog entry. I should say though that Crete isn’t the best place for wheelchair users; in fact, its pretty bad. Oh yeah, and people there all drive like lunatics. Other than that, we all had a pretty good time I think. High point: getting dad listening to cat empire (although he says the lead singer sounds like a ‘south London wideboy’). Low point: not seeing any minotaurs. All that remains now is to catch up on my correspondence and hope this crick in the neck wears off soon.

Did anyone see ‘coming down the mountain’ last night on bbc1? To me, it was the most interesting thing on telly for a while, and it would be awfully poor form for me, as both a student of film and a disabled person, not to say anything about it here. It concerned the relationship between two brothers, one of whom had Downs Syndrome. To begin with, their relationship is tense, and the ‘normal’ brother strongly resents the needs of his SEN sibling. They have to move so that the bro with downs could go to a special school (something which wouldn’t happen if all schools were inclusive). Things get worse and worse, until the ‘normal’ one takes them both up a mountain and, in a rage, pushes his bro off a cliff. He instantly regrets this, but his bro isn’t dead. He gets the rescue team, yada yada yada, the boy recovers. During this time, the two get to know each other – it seems that they had never actually talked. They find that they have a lot in common.

Thus this is a fairly simple story about somebody realising what needed to be realised. On one level, it’s a fairly innocuous little tale, if somewhat melodramatic, about two brothers finding each other. The outcome was obvious, even predictable from the title. Yet, on another level, both characters are metonyms for widespread society: all disabled people were once resented as burdens, and in quite a few places, mainstream culture tried to get rid of us. Now things have changed and ‘we’ are being accepted. I think there is cause to share the optimism shown at the end of the piece – indeed, the very fact that the brother with ds was shown to have a girlfriend, albeit one who herself has ds, is a symptom of the change in the portrayal of disability. While there is still quite a way to go, and I long for a day when disability is purely incidental in TV drama, I see this as a good step in the right direction.

I met my paternal grandfather for the first tome this weekend. For various reasons, which we need not go into here, I’d never met or spoken to dad’s father before. Yesterday, we were an my cousin Dan’s wedding. This was, needless to say, a most excellent event in itself – it was at a vineyard in Sussex, and the sun was out. Dad, mum and I were down there, and we had a great time. The music at the reception ruled, and my family kept buying me drinks! Lord knows how much I drank, but I knew about it in the morning. The music also ruled – Dan and Ruth are evidently rockers, and the band they chose kicked ass. You should have seen the guitarist! Guns and roses, Hendrix, woooohooo. Seems it is possible to have a good night out with one’s parents, as last night certainly was a good night out!

I was talking to an old friend of mine from school last night. Rory went to the same school as I did, Hebden green, and coincidentally is now going to south Cheshire college, just as I did, where he is about to embark on a foundation degree. Anyway, it would seem I’m not alone in my criticism of Hebden green: Rory is also highly critical of the standard of teaching there. He drew my attention to * the syllabus for business studies in the post-16 department. In our opinion, a child of 9 could do this! I mean, it’s meant for 17 year olds – at an age when most people have the skills sufficient for, say, assessing the role of the Tsarina on the February 1917 Russian revolution, and other such complex, interesting things, kids in special schools are being asked ‘what is a business’. If this wasn’t bad enough, this is virtually the only subject taught: other time is spent faffing and drinking coffee, if memory serves.

Its just ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!

*the link is now missing

You may have noticed – in fact, I’m sure everyone will have – that it has been ten years since the death of the princess of Wales, and that the press are commemorating this fact fervently. I was watching breakfast TV earlier today, and they were talking about it. While I see no point whatsoever in this, as I feel that it would be best to let her lie, what appalled me is the fact that the guests they had on to discuss the issue were two tabloid editors. It is certainly true that Dianna manipulated the press to suit her own ends, but it is also true that had it not been for the press’s constant harassment of her, their almost bestial, inane hunger for every bit of gossip and every photo of her, she would still be alive today. This also reflects badly on the public who bought such tabloids – we too had a hand in her death, yet what sickens me is the editors who now speak as though they are not guilty, trying to feed us the line that the driver was drunk and that was the soul cause of the accident. At the same time they act as ringleaders of grief, champions of Dianna; when she was alive, the tabloids treated her despicably. They’re hypocrites, each and every one of them. The press manipulated Dianna, and they’re trying to manipulate us.

Perhaps I am once again being a luddite in attacking something which I haven’t properly researched, but this afternoon I came across the concept of ‘rebound therapy’. This is a ‘lesson’ in special schools, wherein kids get to go on a trampoline. Now, there appears to be some research to suggest that this may be beneficial for muscle tone in kids with cp, but it strikes me as a huge waste of time, quite literally as one Ofstead report says ‘a considerable amount of time is absorbed as pupils have to travel between school sites to use the swimming pool, Rebound Therapy and some other specialist facilities.’ I have two questions, 1. How does bouncing on a trampoline help kids in the long run? Trampolines are fun, but I fail to see how it helps kids in the long term, especially when you have to sacrifice so much teaching time for it. 2. wouldn’t it be better to do such things out of school time, such as at the weekends, if it is so beneficial. This is another example of the misguided medical model philosophy that giving a child things like physio is more important than educating him. To me, this is to squander a child’s future to an almost criminal extent. What good is the ability to walk if it would mean sacrificing the ability to read or count? Focussing on education rather than physio is better in the long term, as physical issues can be overcome mechanically, with things like chairs and vocas, whereas a poor education is a real disability. I personally think trampolines are most fun when they’re at a friends house, visited on a break from uni, bounced upon at dusk between swigs of beer.

source

We have just got in from my meeting at A.S, who organise and fund my learning support at uni. It was, I think, quite a productive meeting, certainly pretty straightforward.’ I found out I’m entitled to money for books, which as a bibliophile is brilliant. Alan sent me a list of books a short while ago, which I need to get. I also want to get hold of some of mulvey’s work – I had a look for a copy online, but no such luck.

Speaking of books, we had lunch in Blackwell’s earlier. Why didn’t anyone tell me of this place? Books and food! How cool. Although they didn’t have any of mulvey’s work, they did sell some good quiche and not bad coffee. I reckon if they did one more thing, Blackwell’s would be heaven: if Blackwell’s sold real ale, you’d never get me out of there!

Something unusual has come to my attention. Last week, I was channel hopping about 4pm. I flipped over to CBBC, and found something rather cool. Desperados, a programme about a kids wheelchair basketball team, came onto the screen. It seems to be a great piece of disability representation, and most of the actors are themselves disabled. At last ‘we’ are being portrayed accurately. Why is it that kids TV is always ahead of television meant for adults in such matters?

We just got back from London, where we were visiting my yaiya. You know, the house in haycroft gardens is, as it always has been, a kind of base of operations for the whole family. We’re quite a far-flung group, now spread more than ever, but my brothers, cousins, aunts and parents know we are always welcome there. Chris also came down from oxford too – she’s doing research there these days, so she can pop down to London rather easily. As usual, it was good to see her – we had a much-needed chat about how every bachelor’s student, at the end of his or her course, goes through the same thing: the same sense of absence. Everybody misses their friends. It’s probably worse for Chris, as she did her undergrad course in Brazil, but she tells me she sees them whenever she can.

At this, I felt a bit better – I was reminded that I needn’t worry. In fact, it struck me that I was in quite a privileged position. How many other people with disabilities get to contract post-bachelor disorder? Historically speaking, not many. of course, this must change: although I could be accused of snobbery here, I see university as having opened so many doors for me, both intellectually and socially, that I think it quite dire that more people do not go. I feel more confident than ever in both areas. Moreover, I, like many others, view it as a vital part of growing up.

This is why I, rather like CaMoron, worry about yob culture: I don’t wish to sound un-pc here, but so-called ‘hoodies’ seem to reject all that I and my family hold dear. To them, learning is uncool (they haven’t seen the photographs on my wall, obviously) which may account for the growing discipline problems in schools. They would rather be on the streets with their friends than in the classrooms, for you can’t look ‘hard’ if you like to learn. The educational establishment needs to re-engage the youth, to make learning cool. Then, maybe, kids will stop trying to look hard and realise there are cooler ways to solve arguments than shooting each other.

Blimey. It’s the 24th of August already. If memory serves, my good friend Charlie comes home today. She and Hollie (whose dress sense I love, by the way) have spent all summer in Ibiza. I hope they had an excellent time. Unfortunately, due to diary clashes, it’s unclear when I’m going to be able to go and see Charlie, something which I’d really like to do. I’d really like to hear her stories, and to tell here some of mine! Plus, I’d really like more of her mum’s chocolate pudding!

Anyway WELCOME HOME CHARLIE AND HOLLIE! I and I’m sure all the guys at mmu wish you the most pleasant of homecomings.

There is nothing like a roll up to swettenham for a good think, and today I think I’ve realised something most interesting. In fact, it might become part of my m.a. Then again, it might be totally wrong.

I was thinking, once again, about Lacan. I’ve been reading up on mulvey recently, and I think I now grasp the centrality of the mirror stage and formation of the egoideal. When the mother holds the baby up to the mirror, it sees both itself and a competitor for it’s mother’s affection; it therefore identifies with itself in order to overcome the competition. Therefore we generate our ego-ideal in the symbolic, which forms the basis for the scopic drive. ”The Ego is constructed by identification with the specular image. The relationship between the Ego and the specular image means that the Ego and the Imaginary order itself are places of radical alienation: ”alienation is constitutive of the Imaginary order” (see Seminar III The Psychoses). We may add that this relationship is also narcissistic. Thus the Imaginary is the field of images and imagination, and deception: the main illusions of this order are synthesis, autonomy, duality, similarity.” [source] this leads directly to film theory: the idealised self-image leads to identification with it and thereafher the on-screen hero (I think that’s basically it – just recapping Lacan)

Recently, I’ve been pondering Marx too, and have decided Marxism today is all about school and TV. The ruling class are no longer the factory owners; today, the bourgeoisie are the inteligencia. Think about it – to get anywhere in life today you need a degree. Now, what is at the heart of education? Literacy! I cant think of anything the educational establishment prises more than the written word. In effect, the inteligencia control the symbolic order for they make up most of the writers and film makers. Hence they can manipulate our ego-ideals. He who has mastery over the symbolic, be that language or otherwise, has mastery over the subject, for the ability to manipulate the representation of the ego-ideal is the ability to manipulate the ego. If you can control the on screen hero, you control the idealised self image. The imaginary is structured by the symbolic, which, as mulvey wrote, is controlled by the bourgeois patriarchy. Freud, through Lacan, relates directly to Marx.

However, there is a way out. Rather than class conflict, it is mastery over the symbolic which has the ability to make us all equal: in short, education sets us free. (academia is based on philology). If we all have equal control over the symbolic order, we are all equal. Now, you can see why this has a personal resonance, for it would seem to unite my three major interests of film, education and communication. All three are concerned with controlling the symbolic, which is central to the formation of the ego. Direct control of oneself necessitates direct control of the symbolic, both societally and personally. This, I think, is why disabled people are looked down upon in society – we don’t have enough access to the symbolic. Both inclusion and vocas are ways of remedying this. (see here).

All these ideas are playing around in my head. I may have got it wrong; it may not be new. Right now, though, it fascinates me; perhaps I need to make more trips to swettenham to work it out.

I was listening, while I was eating lunch today, to the news on radio 4. apparently, ” David Cameron has called for a ‘three-dimensional’ fight against youth crime, focusing on families, policing and the justice system.” On the face of it, this looks quite reasonable and liberal, almost echoing ‘tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime’. Nobody would disagree with this, even me. But if you think about it, there seems to be a contradiction. Even though CaMoron wants to appear liberal and balanced, underneath what he is saying still lie the same old tenets of conservatism. For one, he’s still seeing things in terms of absolutes – in terms of black and white. ‘hoodies are bad’ he says, without really understanding suburban youth culture and it’s disenfranchisement. Instead, he says that this ‘yobbism’ is caused by the breakdown of the family and family values. The conservatives were saying pretty much the same thing in 1909, at the time of the constitution crisis. Moreover, to sociologists, the family is a repressive structure intended to reinforce patriarchy. Thus this 3d approach is nothing of the sort – CaMoron is still seeing in monochrome.

Exactly the same can be said of the special schools debate. Those who favour special schools speak of how ‘one size does not fit all’. Again, at first glance appears accurate, but when it and the motives behind it are examined, it shows a lack of understanding of the issue. Segregating kids causes far more harm than inclusion ever will. It is repressive. So again we see the same distortion – CaMoron’s views and statements, while at first appearing reasonable, are the same old, discredited, ridiculous Tory ideas.

source

I must admit this is pretty scary; it also confirms my suspicions that the people who make kids tv ara all high. how else do you explain the tweenies.

Was over at Ross’s place this morning. Their new house is lovely. Its huge too. It’s completely flat – there’s no step over the threshold, so I could just roll in. I had a fairly good chat with rods and his parents, during which I found out something most interesting indeed: Hebden green is shutting.

My old school is shutting and a new, inclusive school will be made from the 5 or so schools in winsford. According to Ross’s dad, this new hyper-school will be made which will accommodate every shade of pupil. Funnily, I’m not sure how to react: suppressive though it was, Hebden and I go back a long time. The mosaic is there. This is not to say I don’t support the new idea but….

I was struck by a fear. This school will accommodate every ‘type’ of student: A.b, P.D. L.D and also BED. I’ve admitted before on here that I have very little experience with Bed, but I was struck by the thought: what if some kid with behavioural difficulties, say, hits a kid like Ross? Such a thing would be terrible – Ross is tiny, and unable to defend himself. I am not doubting my belief in inclusion, but I really hope the right safeguards will be in place.

any input on this will be most welcome

It looks like October outside. A cold, wet November afternoon with nothing to do, and nothing n the box. You wouldn’t believe it’s late august, would you? I just watched the first ten minutes of Johnny English, decided it was an embarrassment to art, and turned my TV off. Last night, in contrast, I watched rear window – now that’s a film! No, scratch that: its more than a film – it is an essay in scoppophilia. It is entirely about films, how we watch them, how we construct stories. I noticed that the james stewart character was, in effect, acting as a viewer, constructing stories. I’m gonna definitely have to watch that again. Here, I should thank my brother Mark for the Hitchcock box set he gave me for graduation.

For many years, university seemed like a destination. Now, having got there, having got to the top of the hill, do I see the path goes further – through hills and valleys more beautiful than I ever thought. There’s so much more to learn, not just in my own subject of film but everything. Academia is immense, ranging from the study of Arthurian legend, to Zoology. Even though I have only a cursory knowledge of either, I am both captivated by the tales off the Knights of the round table and accounts of natural history, especially that pertaining to evolution. Film captivates me the most, however. While I love reading and being read to, film brings such things to life – only in film can those knights say Ni, and only in film can you actually see a tyrannosaurus become a bird. Thus it is how information is presented, both in terms of fiction and non-fiction, which interests me, not so much the information in itself. It goes without saying that I believe that academia should concern itself with both. How can you ever know the truth without examining both art and science? While one deals with the natural state of external things, from strings to stars, the other deals with the internal things. As much as my brothers like to dismiss the arts, I believe the generation and study of art has as much claim to the truth as any of the sciences. This is why both are studied on campuses, and any wider model of philosophy should take both into account.

That is the landscape I see before me now. A world with so much to learn, to study, to read and write about. One full of cool little philosophical debates, which, in the end, always turned my head to mush, but that doesn’t stop me liking them. The thing is, unlike climbing real hills, I don’t feel tired, but, on the contrary, want to go further. I must admit to being egged on in pursuit of mark. University is a place I found extraordinarily welcoming – I loved every day there, both due to the work, the atmosphere of mental stimulation, and my friends. In climbing the hill, one acquires a taste for mountaineering, but one can only know that once one takes the first step. Only once you get to uni that you feel the thrill, the love of learning, the enjoyment you get from being around like-minded people.

This is part of inclusion too. So many kids – not just those with disabilities – a told they can’t. I think people need to be shown how broad and beautiful that landscape can be. I hope that others follow me into that land, and that it enthrals them as much as it enthrals me.