War Never Changes

In case you've missed the news over the past 2 days, I just thought I'd remind you that we're technically at war with Libya now. 

Yep, we're being dragged into a 'coalition' (once again) which aims to stop Col Gadaffi's reign of terror. Deja-vu, anyone? 

I was watching This Morning today (it was on in the gym, I had no choice), and they had a rather interesting debate going on about this. I forget the name of the man on there, but he raised the point that Gaddaffi has been in power for 42 years, and has been just as crazy as he is now and yet all of a sudden, he kills 1,000 of his own people and we can't accept him anymore. Didn't he kill 270 people from other places when he ordered theLockerbie Bombing in 1988? A further 230 people during theBerlin Diskotheque Bombing in 1986 and 170 during theUTA Flight 772 bombing in 1989 (both of which he was directly linked to)? He has supported and actively encouraged acts of terrorism made by a number of different militant groups around the world, has allied himself with political groups and individuals responsible for atrocities and war crimes (such as Slobodan Milošević), and has been responsible for attempts to radicalise Maories and Australian Aboriginals. To top it all off, he's also paid for meetings with the BNP. So now we have a problem with this guy?

It's a massive tragedy, what is happening to innocent Libyans- don't get me wrong. Everyone should have the right to protest against their government- especially one as corrupt and downright nasty as the Gadaffi regime, and I hope they get the fair and democratic government they so obviously deserve. My problem here is why other countries have to be dragged in. I suppose for the US and UK it's long overdue retribution for Lockerbie, Berlin Diskotheque and Flight 772, but again, as I said earlier they've had almost 30 years when they could have done this. Our forces are arguably stretched enough as it is, being still placed in Afghanistan- do we really have the resources to engage in another potential long-term conflict? Let's face it, Gadaffi isn't going to move unless he's killed - a action that the UN are not actually allowed to suggest, as today's decision has revealed. It took 3 years until Saddam Hussein was captured and excecuted. How long will it take with Gadaffi? If we get dragged into Libya, we can probably expect to be there for a while.

Also, why Libya? Egypt overthrew it's government recently, and 384 people died and 6,000 were injured. Did we at any point intervene? No. Yemen is also having an attempt at a revolution that is proving to be just as violent as Egypt, but again, we're not involving ourselves too much apart from suggesting British nationals should leave. Is there some other reason why we're there? Isn't it funny how we're still running out of oil and Libya relies on it for exports? 

A happy coincidence? Maybe. I can't help thinking, though, that nobody has learned anything from Iraq, and that we're going to end up being in there for longer than we intend, all because of a coalition and the UN. It's amazing how world leaders seem to develop amnesia whenever the price of oil is at risk. How many more Middle Eastern crises will it take before we learn to keep our nose out of other country's politics.

Just goes to show, war never changes.

High School Stars (or, How I learned to Stop Worrying and Decide Which Seat to Take)

The internet is a frightening, desolate place.
It has spawned many horrible things over the past 20 years of public availability- 4chan, Chris Crocker, Rick Rolling and the Meme (to name a few). For all of it's achievements, there are at least a million things the internet is responsible for that you probably wish you could un-see.
The newest of these abominations is Rebecca Black, and her song 'Friday'.


Recently declared by Newsbeat's Technology Reporter as the "Worst Song Ever" (and I guess Radio 1 has the most experience of bad songs to be able to say this), Friday is an attempt by Rebecca Black to gain worldwide fame as an 13 year old internet musician. Some may argue that this has worked, as her official video on Youtube now has over 25 million views (as of time of writing).The reason, however, for her fame, is the ridiculously poor quality of the song- as you will have just seen. The lyrics are of particular interest, as they appear to make no sense at all;

"Kickin’ in the front seat
Sittin’ in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?"

"Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today is Friday, Friday (Partyin’)
Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes afterwards"

According to some information released about the video, it was made by a record company in Los Angeles called Ark Music Factory - a company that apparently deals with unsigned 'talent'. Now, terrible lyrics aside, that means that someone must have forked over a lot of money to make that deal happen. My bets are that Rebecca didn't pay for it with her pocket money. Mummy and Daddy Black did. For what reason?

Currently, another child star is dominating the hearts and minds of young impressionable boys and girls everywhere. He's Canadian, he's produced a film called 'Never Say Never', and his name rhymes with Hustin Nieber. I'm talking of course about 15 year old Justin "I don't know what German means" Bieber, who is probably making more money after less than 2 years of his career than John Lennon made over 20 years. It's no surprise, then, that there are some parents out there who want to make a quick buck out of their children in the hope that they may get as lucky as Bieber.

It is a terrible thing to see, children as young as 8 or 9 being thrust into the limelight by overbearing and pushy parents who want their slice of the fame that others have seen before them. It's not new- how could we forget Lindsay Lohan, who has probably made more of a name for herself since she started hanging around with Paris Hilton than she ever did when she was in the Parent Trap. Michael Jackson is perhaps the number 1 example of what happens to child stars, having been pushed into the business at just 6. There are many other examples, but you don't need me to tell you that they very often end the same way - drugs, sexual abuse or suicide. Except for maybe Wil Wheaton, of Star Trek fame, who still appears to be normal and drug-free more than 20 years after his fame died.

In my opinion, child stars are not really children at all, merely under-developed adults- forced prematurely into the adult world by popularity. They will never be able to experience the innocence of childhood because they are placed high on a pedestal in the public eye at an age when they should be out grazing their knees and picking their noses. They cannot act as a child should because everyone is watching them. Therefore, despite them MAYBE having some talent, like being able to sing really well or act, they shouldn't be exposed to fame. Huge amounts of fame will no doubt make the kid in question feel like they can do anything and they will be loved for it. When it's over, and their fame declines, it could be hard to accept that people don't think they're awesome anymore, maybe for no apparent reason. How is a child supposed to understand the fickleness of the public? It's a concept that could drive anyone to depression, drink and drugs, let alone a child. In my opinion, encouraging a child to become famous is nothing more than a indirect form of child abuse.

Relating back to our friend Rebecca Black, she has tasted fame not because of her talents, but because of the cruelty of the internet. We watch her video because it's bad - so bad it's funny. In her case, she might well believe that we like her because she has talent, but this would be a lie. She could well go though life thinking that her fame is deserved, and try and get even bigger. When she discovers the root of her fame is based on ridicule, imagine the damage this could cause and could already be causing. Has she recognised that she is being made a fool of, or does she think we like her because she's a good singer/songwriter? I'll leave you to decide that.

Exams!!

This week hasn't been such a good week for me. It started off ok, with stuff in the flat being sorted out and it generally being quieter after that, but the prospect of 2 exams next week has been hanging over me like the Sword of Damocles.

I think I've seen one person in the entire week, when I've not been out doing that whole University thing I do. I've just been shut up in my room, not talking to anyone in the flat (either because I'm not on speaking terms with the noisy folk anymore, or because the quiet folk have gone on a trip to Amsterdam) revising media law, which is without a doubt the most BORING subject on the planet.

Right now, I'm sat writing this and playing Dragon Age: Awakening just to avoid doing any studying later this evening. I tend to find that revising at night takes away from the otherwise crushing boredom I feel when stuck at the flat with nothing to do. I can't believe I actually paid for these exams myself, either. They're not compulsory, they're optional, so I figured I'd get them out of the way first. Of course it would have to be after I paid 88 pounds for both exams that I found out there is literally no way I'll be doing anything fun on Valentines day. Law exam in on V-day itself, and Reporting exam is the day after, leaving me no time in between to fulfill my duty as one half of a couple that is together on that most irritatingly soppy of days.

Yes, for the record, I am one of these despicable, nauseating people who has a boyfriend. I actually have something to do on Valentines day other than stuff myself with expensive chocolates while watching Love Actually and weepinge. Boyfriend is going to cook me dinner, which is a relatively special and rare thing because as we women all know, men don't really cook. Especially if they're poor students. This man can cook, however. Usually his talents stretch as far as tuna pasta and instant noodles (always with some sort of mix of herbs and spices that makes even these things taste wonderful), but he's going all out for V-day, apparently. Special pots and everything. The boy puts me to shame. 

When we'll do that, though, is beyond me. Possibly after my last exam on Tuesday, which would be a nice treat. Then, parents are coming over for a visit that weekend, and we'll all going out for an indian meal at one of the really swanky restaurants in Manchester- all 4 of us.

Guess that means I'll get a better week after the fail I've had this week. Could really do with something nice to look forward to. Right now, though, it's almost time to get stuck into privacy laws, the Human Rights Act and Ofcom Codes of Practice.

Yawn....

RE: Living in a Zoo

Something rather unexpected but wonderful happened not long ago in this flat.

Me and the two normal flat mates finally cracked and came together to discuss what was to be done. At first we decided on a flat meeting, but nobody was around at the time, so we resorted to messaging everyone privately in Facebook with our demands. This didn't go so well, as I ended up having a bit of an argument with Hannah about her music volume.

Her friend decided it would be best to have a chat about it all, which we did once with her before she went and picked up Hannah from work. This went from sensible and mature to a complete mess in about half an hour, with her constantly defending Hannah's actions. We then had the long, dreaded wait for herself to arrive, which was probably the most nerve wracking half an hour I've experienced recently. I was totally expecting Hannah to be abusive and unreasonable.

The result? We all sat down and discussed our problems openly like mature adults. Music is now to be turned down at midnight, people will pay for stuff they've broken and there is to be an atmosphere of mutual respect and consideration for others at all times (which means asking if it's ok if they can have a party). Whether it'll stay that way is something different altogether, but I'm just happy there was no shouting about what we discussed.

I can go to bed happy. Mentally exhausted, but happy. Night night :)

Living in a Zoo

One of the major changes for me this year has been living accommodation. I moved from the condemned tower block that I used to live in into a shiny new ground floor flat slightly further away. Leather sofas, en-suite rooms, all around 90 pounds a week.

Very swish, you might say.

Shame about my flat-mates.

I live with 5 other people, one of which I was with last year, who was very nice and was probably quite a good friend to me. Two of them are fairly normal people, considerate and quiet. The other two however, are the flatmates from hell. One of them in particular, a fat, fake tanned, heavily made-up, self-important specimin called Hannah (or Hannorrr to her friends) has succeeded in making mine and the other two normal people's lives hell over the past 6 months.

She plays her music too loud at night, she screams through the walls at her friends, she throws house parties without asking anyone else if it's ok and then doesn't clean up. She even bullies the other normal people by opening her door and playing music in their direction, dumping rubbish outside their door and writing threatening messages to them. She doesn't do those things to me, though, possibly because I don't figure enough in the flat community for her to bother with. I always get the brunt of her loud music and screaming, though, because I'm in the room next to her.She blames mess in the kitchen on us 3 normal people, when I suspect she's responsible for it. In contrast, though, her room is spotless.

Her friend follows her around like a puppy, buying all her food for her, driving her everywhere and doing whatever else she wants. When those two get together, it sounds like the monkey enclosure at London Zoo. My flatmate from last year has also become her bitch, because he doesn't do anything for himself anymore - he has almost no substance to him whatsoever now, and doesn't stick up for me or even hang around with me anymore. What a let-down.

We've probably lost our deposit on the place, and are probably going to be charged well over that for the damage that the house parties have caused to various things in the kitchen/living room. It seems every time there is one, something gets wrecked and then hurriedly replaced or just left broken.

I personally have never attended a single one of these parties, because a: piss-ups bore me to tears, and b: I'm frankly scared to, and feel like I'm not invited (even though it's my flat too). Every time a party happens, I run and hide at my boyfriends for the night and return to see the carnage the next morning.

Now I know I'm not a typical student, as I said before. I don't like wild parties or the student lifestyle - I'd rather be tucked up in bed with my Xbox or snuggled up on the sofa watching a film with my boyfriend. I live a quiet existence. I know, however, that this behavior that I dread coming back to the flat for, isn't normal either. It's downright antisocial.

I'd love to be able to complain to my accommodation, say that it's all those 3 who trash the place and that it's driving me to depression living with them and I want them kicked out, but that would probably the last thing I ever did. Hannah is unfortunately the kind of girl who would probably make my life even worse if I did something she didn't like. She'd probably sit on me.

Instead, I know I'm condemned to stay here for 4 more months, locked in my room between seeing people and going to classes. I feel like I'm living in a zoo.

On the upside, though, I've found somewhere nice and quiet to live next year, with someone who is just as quiet and normal as me. Also, I'm always guaranteed a flight home to see my parents, and always welcome to stay at my lovely boyfriend's house on weekends.

There is a happy ending to this story :)