Twit Her

Twitter provided an unexpected surprise this week. Though before I continue, why is that an acceptable sentence? Surely if it had been expected it would not have been a surprise?

Those of us in the UK can't have escaped the fact that Pope Benedict XVI is visiting our nation, and like many I have been appalled by the stories of abuse and the incumbent Pope's alleged role in assisting in keeping the perpetrators from justice. It is this background that inspired me to reacted to one of the seemingly endless newscasts of the Papal visit with the tweet:

Kid can't believe he saw Pope with his own two eyes. Makes sense, those priests usually approach from the rear.

Now I think that's funny, but I am also well aware that the only person who finds me funny, is me, and I would like to think that the people who follow my tweets accept me for the simple fool I am. The surprise I mentioned arrived a couple of minutes later when I received this from @_Boring1_:

When is it ever funny to make fun of a child that has been molested? Never,it makes you just as sick as the child molester.

I didn't recognise the name of @_Boring1_ as one of my followers so my initial reaction was one of wonder as to who this person was, and my second was to disagree with their reply on a number of levels. Firstly, if there is a victim in my tweet it is the institution that ordains priests, as the inference is that the priest or priests or indeed the whole institution is one of evildoers who would pray on the innocent. Secondly, following @_Boring1_'s logic, any act that has the potential to have a victim would become taboo for humour, which if @_Boring1_ has ever laughed at a Marx Brothers, Three Stooges or Laurel & Hardy movie, or comedians such as Bill Hicks, Eddie Murphy, Richard Prior and George Carlin, makes them a hypocrite, and if they haven't then I simply cannot be dictated to by someone so emotionally crippled. Thirdly, as @_Boring1_ neither follows me nor knows me personally they have no idea who I am or what motivates me to tweet. What if I am a victim of abuse and deal with it through humour, lashing out at the institution that allowed that abuse to happen?

I am now curious though as to who @_Boring1_ is, not only because they felt the need to reply to me but also because they clearly feel morally superior to me and in a position to dictate what I may or may not comment on. So off I pop to Jessica's Twitter page. Jessica describes herself as “a girl,a mom,29 years old.” A 29 year old girl? I would hope that by 29 years of age my daughter would be a woman. Also I notice that while she is proud to boast on her ability to breed, she does not mention a husband or partner. Not that either is a requirement or I believe is a necessity, but I did want to establish the grounds for Jessica's moral superiority claims and why she felt empowered to start dictating morality issues to others.

Having taken the time to search out my tweet and reply to it, I felt it only fair to correct Jessica on her error and so replied:

Phew, good job I didn't actually mock an abused child then. Happy trolling.

I should have known better than to feed the troll but having been attacked by Jessica, who took it upon herself to find my words remember, I never imposed them upon her, I wanted to point out that she was attacking me based on her misunderstanding of what I had written and not what I had actually written. Maybe calling her a troll, while accurate, was a bit rude, but I wasn't abusive and never felt the need to resort to inappropriate language.

Jessica replied again:

Thanks and Happy being a sick fuck.

Obviously Jessica was unable to restrain herself or couldn't articulate her feelings without resorting to abuse. Whichever is the case, how anyone can claim any kind of moral high ground while resorting to that kind of abuse is beyond me, and I would hope beyond any intelligent observer of human behaviour too.

Realising that Jessica would not or could not engage in a rational discussion and was clearly only in the mood to be abusive, I decided to return to the humour:

I'm sick? You're the one chatting up a stranger! Didn't even need to offer you sweets.

Jessica retweeted that. Possibly the most productive thing she's done in her 29 years.

Is it relevant that Jessica is American? Alabama no less!

Motorcyclic Argument

It is not without a sense of irony that my first post since Caught On HelmetCam should happen to be in the wake of me being involved in an accident that left my bike an insurance write off and me off work for a number of weeks recovering from my injuries.

First thing I think it's important to do is thank the North West Ambulance Service as well as the doctors and staff at Arrowe Park Hospital who were pleasant and considerate throughout my time with them, and the Merseyside Police Officer who attended the scene and was very helpful.

Fortunately, though battered, bruised and in a lot of pain, I came out of the accident intact. Communicating with various people and parties since the accident and I could be forgiven for feeling I should have expected the accident to happen simply because I ride a motorcycle. Certainly there have been a number of voices suggesting I should take this as a sign to give up two wheeled transport and shocked that I haven't dismissed the idea of ever riding again.

Having joined the wealth of statistics on road traffic accidents I've been digging a little deeper. Before I took up motorcycling I was aware that relatively speaking motorcyclists are involved in far more accidents than car drivers (I believe motorcycles account for 1% of traffic while being involved in around 20% of accidents) so motorcycling being unsafe is an easy conclusion to reach. That leads me to wondering why it is that when so much time and effort has been put into improving rider training with the emphasis on defensive riding, and a much stricter and difficult two part practical test for motorcyclists, there is still such a disparity?

One statistic that gets raised consistently is that 80% of motorcyclist fatalities involve the motorcyclist travelling at excessive speed, though in raising that it doesn't address the vast majority of the accidents as while 80% is a large proportion, the actual number of fatalities involving motorcycles is a fraction of that involving cars and larger vehicles. That's not to belittle fatalities or diminish their significance, just to give context.

Campaigns aimed at reducing speeds saw little reduction in the number of accidents because most accidents weren't caused by speeding motorcyclists, and it's looking at where safety campaigns are focused now and are seemingly having an impact, combined with the statistics from accident reports across Europe and America, you see the cause of most accidents is in car drivers' observations. Almost everyone I've shown my HelmetCam video has commented on how 'normal' those examples of inconsiderate driving are. Surely that's where the problem lies? While the vast majority of accidents involving motorcycles are the car drivers fault, and almost half of those are cars pulling out from junctions into approaching vehicle's path, the natural impulse seems to be to remove motorcycles from our roads rather than tackle the poor driving standards we've allowed to develop.

I have no doubt that those wishing me to hang up my helmet only have my best interests at heart, and I am grateful for the love expressed (particularly that little lump in the throat from Sheffield, despite him hitting the delete key), and when I am all healed and am able to get back on a bike I won't be doing so in deference to those expressions or because I feel I have some kind of right to be a biker. I'll be doing it because I enjoy it; it's low cost commuting; and because I have faith in you to look, and then look again.

Caught on HelmetCam Vol.1

I got a small DV camera for Father's Day which I mount inside my helmet when commuting to and from work. The examples of poor driving I capture are astounding and surprisingly numerous. It has to be said, it's not all car drivers, I've seen some mad and dangerous stuff from bikers too, however the bike stuff tends to be really obvious and you can probably think now of occasions where a biker has ridden past at ridiculous speed or been pulling wheelies. Thankfully, those do tend to be the minority, all be it a very visual one.
What I've found interesting is the casual attitude of some car drivers. It's almost as if once some people get their license, the basics go out of the window. The most obvious example of this is the middle lane hog. Someone who will sit in the middle lane of a three lane motorway, even when the nearside lane is clear and they are travelling slower than cars in that nearside lane who are approaching from behind, forcing those drivers to either undertake or cross two lanes out and then two lanes back to pass. I've even heard the argument that the driver felt less likely to have an accident by staying in the middle lane as he would need to perform less manoeuvres on his journey so would be less likely to have an accident. Surely someone that unsure of their ability to even change lanes safely shouldn't be behind the wheel?
I don't mean to sound like a car basher, I do drive as well as ride, and I am equally frustrated by fellow road users when driving. The main difference then though is that those inconsiderate and oblivious drivers are less likely to seriously injure to even kill me when I'm in the car.
I've put a few examples together in a video. Please don't emulate anything you see in it.

Oo, colours!

Having once again drifted off to that most unreal of places we call the real world and in doing so neglecting my little bloggette, I thought it was about time I put some words down (up?). Logging in while I thought about what to moan about I found myself confronted with choices and templates and opportunities for prettyness. Not that I'd be interested in such trifling things you understand.
So anyway, forty seven minutes later and I've made it orange. Whoop!

My friend, the racist.

I've not felt compelled of late to share my thoughts, what with being so busy in work, preparing for the new arrival, and just enjoying the political roller-coaster that's been the televised debates and the election itself. Those things, and others, have kept me pre-occupied and happy enough to leave the blogosphere to it's own devices.
Then out of the blue I receive a text message that was so astounding in it's thinly veiled racism that I find myself back at the keyboard.
The guy that sent it to me claims he's not racist (would it be wrong to note that BNP leader Nick Griffin claims the same?), and (unlike Nick Griffin who surely knows he's a bigoted lard sack of intolerance and hate) I think he genuinely believes he isn't.
So to help my racist friend understand just how racist he is (I'm doing this out of love in the hope that together we can make a better world, ish), I've de-constructed the version he put on Facebook:

If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.

This is not a great start as it's immediately evasive. It soon becomes apparent who “we” and “you” are so why wasn't the author comfortable stating so from the outset? Perhaps because if they had it would all too soon have descended into farce as we try to fathom exactly which 'white rights' we are currently denied to the extent that we would need to march. I'm certainly not aware of being denied any rights, including the rights to march and engage in legitimate protest, on account of my ethnicity as a white man. On that basis alone I can't help but see the claim as inflammatory and designed to promote racial tension.

You are proud to be black, brown. yellow and orange (just felt the need to interject at this point to say how pleased I am that the Umpa-Lumpas are represented), and you're not afraid to announce it, but when we announce our white pride, you call us racist.

This is difficult for me to address because I can only do so on assumption as with not being black, brown, yellow, orange or purple or blue, I can sing a rai.. sorry.. I have never suffered ridicule and persecution based on my ethnicity. I'm not helped by the fact that I can't claim to understand exactly what “white pride” is supposed to be either. Am I or should I be proud to be white? My being white would never have meant I was treated as sub-human, so why would I feel the need to reclaim something that has never been forcibly stripped from me? What significance does my whiteness have on how proud I feel? I feel a sense of pride in my achievements and the achievements of those close to me, but my whiteness has no bearing on that. I think I'm probably labouring the point a bit but I just don't see where the “white” fits in, other than to be inflammatory and promote racial tension of course.

You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us, but when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist.

Wow! So, in context, all black, brown, yellow and orange people are violent, gun toting, drug dealing thieves. It follows then that us whites are all fine upstanding law abiding citizens, hence the lack of white people currently in prison! Good job that's indisputable or someone might think it was inflammatory and designed to promote racial tension (last time I say that - promise).
The police are tasked with upholding the law, they are not the dispensers of arbitrary justice (well, they're not supposed to be anyway).

Why is it that only whites can be racist?

It isn't. Racism is faultlessly tolerant in its bigotry.

There is nothing improper about this text message.

Apart from the fact it's overtly racist and designed to create division of course.

Let's see which of you are proud enough to send it on. I sadly don't think many will. That's why we have LOST most of OUR RIGHTS in this country. We won't stand up for ourselves! BE PROUD TO BE WHITE! It's not a crime YET..... but getting very close!

The level of ignorance on display here would shame a lump of igneous rock, right down to the short-sightedness of the author in presenting an opportunity whereby simply attempting to refute the text would in itself disprove the author's premise. Oh irony, you sexy bitch! (someone else can deal with that casual misogyny.)

It is estimated that ONLY 5% of those reaching this point in this text message, will pass it on.

Estimated by who? That's up there with: 73% of statistics are made up on the spot; 13% of people are unlucky; and 100% of this blog's authors see that figure as another attempt at creating a sense of marginalisation where none exists.

Over the next few weeks England will be awash with flags of St George, and the pubs throughout the land will be packed with football fans cheering on England at the World Cup in South Africa. Will every flag bearer be white? Will every drinker screaming his passion at the TV be white? Will every player pulling on the shirt and representing my country be white?

I'm an overweight, middle aged, balding, academically weak, white, heterosexual male, who was born and raised in England. So what?

I'm Game(r)

I love being a gamer, but I hate that there’s a term that defines me by that one leisure activity. Even if we are still clinging to the lower case ‘g’. We are gamers, hear us eat Wotsits and forlornly sigh into our noise reduction microphones attached to our 5.1 headsets. When I was younger and fitter I played football but no-one would ever have called me a footballer. I watch a fair amount of movies and television so should I also be defined as a watcher? I could change my name to Chancy Gardener. I play a number of instruments, though the only sub category of musician I am sufficiently proficient in that I would be comfortable claiming it is drummer. Drummers being musicians with their brains removed jokes notwithstanding.

Other than the activities I do as part of my current employment for which I am defined by my job title (itself a rather meaningless label), there are so many things I do that are surely as equally valid as the ‘gamer’ tag (see what I did there?). I once described myself as an ass kissing, jive talking, soda slurping, crisp chomping, camera clicking, guitar strumming, drum bashing, bullshit spouting, candy assed white boy. I think that pretty much still holds water, particularly as candy assed middle aged fat baldy man doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. It certainly is more encompassing and gives a better idea of who and what I am than defining me as a gamer simply because one of the things I choose to do to entertain myself is play video games.

The latest statement from South Australia’s Attorney-General Michael Atkinson about fearing gamers has highlighted to me that continuing to use the term marginalises everyone who plays video games, and so while the majority of people I know now play games at least on a semi-regular basis, that is to persist with the notion that people who play video games are an insignificant minority group. He has consistently shown himself to be ill informed and lacking in a basic understanding of the medium or the people who play games, but when individuals start name calling or loitering around his house, all people who play games are labelled by association and any moral high ground is lost. As an aside, I notice his crusade against mature video games had now spread to movies too and I do wonder when he’ll start on books. But I digress.

As more and more people play games the term ‘gamer’ loses any significance. It’ll be like defining yourself as human (real world remember, you can still be an elf in Dragon Age:Origins). Can I just be a fat bloke who plays games? Can I be game without being a gamer?

At Home with The Dentons - Episode Fifteen:

Hardly Revolutionary

Paul: Curious without being in any way intriguing wouldn’t you say JC?
JC: What is and would I?
Paul: Trademarking the term revolution as part of the title when the suggestion has always been that augmentation was a technical evolution.
JC: They could have gone with Creationism for all the difference it will make.
Paul: At least you’re talking about it.
JC: Talking about what?

Love is...

Preparing to leave work on Friday, a question came at me from the radio in the corner.
“How will I know if he really loves me?”
Well Whitney, I'd suggest that if he's forcing cocaine up your nose and giving you some old fashioned back handed bitch slapping, I don't think he does. I only hope you don't regret not asking me sooner.
Get yourself a cat.

At Home with The Dentons - Episode Fourteen:

Differences Resolved

Paul: Hey JC.
JC: Hi Paul.
Paul: You making a resolution for New Year?
JC: I thought I might try and be more tolerant. I’ve been feeling the strain this year and I know I’ve let my anger get the better of me on occasion, so a more relaxed and caring JC this year I think.
Paul: That’s great, well done.
Alex: Hey guys, happy new year.
JC: Piss off!