Quote of the 'Week'

"Men will always be mad, and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all."
Voltaire
Discovering that someone has commented on one of my blogs is such a joyous feeling. Hint, bloody hint!

Wednesday 30 June 2010

A few words on hypocrisy

I was sat in the common room with a group of three other people today, during the uneventful hour I have on Tuesday afternoons prior to catching the school bus. These three were playing Magic: The Gathering, a card game I have never fully understood. I'm sure that if I invested enough time into learning it, I would come to enjoy it as much as any other game, but there are reasons why I opt not to participate in this particular pastime.

Firstly, there is, quite frankly, a social stigma associated with this card game. I'm not the type of person that desperately tries to fit in with the cool - or even socially-acceptable - crowds, as I respect those that do less than the social 'outsiders', as it were. But to risk whatever amount of social acceptability I currently have, in exchange for a card game with no distinct long-term merits, seems a tad foolish to me.

Furthermore, I have heard that it is extremely addictive. Once the rules are clear in your head and the game makes sense to you, it's apparently very hard to escape its allure. My Olympian procrastinating abilities mean that I have very little time as it is without such frivolous distractions, thank you very much!

So I took on the role of barely-conscious spectator, slumped in one of the corners of the square of sofas, glancing optimistically at the seemingly-random collection of cards on the table between fleeting, unavoidable moments of sleep. My mind, being in a perfect situation to do so, started to race.

For example, there was a theory floating around in my head that made perfect sense to me, but I found it impossible to verbalise it and explain it to other people. To be honest, I'm still not entirely sure I've completely managed to explain it all yet, but I managed to extract something from it that made sense, so that's satisfying. It may be the entire theory in a nutshell - it could be, however, just the tip of the iceberg. It's so wibbly-wobbly in my own head that even I can't be sure.

My ponderings concern hypocrites, and our tendency to shrug off criticisms, no matter how correct and valuable, if it transpires that they have been made by a hypocrite. As far as I can see, we are a compassionate species overall - if we see something that's wrong, we get the urge to remedy it for the benefit of other people. Sometimes, our remedial urges can contradict past choices we ourselves have made. If these past choices are known to the person we give the advice to, a response akin to 'what do you know?' is likely to conclude the exchange. But surely such a response is demonstrating a blinkered assumption of our mindset!

The general consensus regarding hypocrites is that they are wrong for offering advice because they can't criticise that which they have done themselves. The only logical conclusion to that consensus is that we think hypocrites are incapable of learning from their mistakes, which is ludicrous. In many situations, I would value the advice of a hypocrite more than that of someone who is basing their advice on secondary information, as opposed to personal experience. A hypocrite knows. They've been there. In many cases, they are there, which may make them an even greater hypocrite but could also give their advice even greater validity.

When we make mistakes, we immediately start thinking about how to shift the blame. This isn't necessarily a bad trait; it's a form of survival instinct. So when someone comes over and offers advice, we immediately target the 'self-righteous goody-goody', if only in our minds at first, and try to find some sort of acceptable motive to vent our frustration out on them. Hypocrisy is a popular excuse, and should the mistake-maker have any such ammunition against the adviser, it is more than likely that they will open fire.
It's a perfectly human thing to do in moments of weakness, but by cutting down the person giving the advice, we may miss out on a valuable nugget of information that could prevent such mistakes from occurring again.

So lay off the hypocrites. But just a little bit, mind. Use a bit of judgement in these matters, because some hypocrisy truly outweighs the value of the advice. In these cases, it is advisable to go with your gut and rip 'em a new one (metaphorically speaking...)!

Tally-ho.

Friday 18 June 2010

Me and my opinions, eh?

Old kids' shows weren't as patronising as kids' shows today. Nowadays, everything is much more money-driven. We cut corners all over the place to make a bit of a profit, and unfortunately it shows in this flimsy, blinkered era. Kids' shows are a perfect example of this.

Instead of boring you with a long rant about my opinions, I have fashioned them into a rather fetching, but moderately unfunny, sketch. Enjoy.

Darren: There's a slot opening up in the CITV schedule, and it's our job to fill it.
Vic: When's the slot?
Darren: Right in the middle of CITV, Vic. Smack bang in the middle.
Vic: If I can do maths - and I can - that's exactly halfway between the middle and the end!
Sandra: Good! Good! So we need a premise. What do kids like?
Darren: Kids like stupid things, mostly. Do we want to do a show about stupid things? Hyperactive nonsense to render them numb with adrenaline?
Vic: If they like it...
Darren: Yeah, I get that, but maybe our purpose isn't just to give the kids what they want. Maybe our goal is to develop them as people, to ensure that the fundamental mindsets of a functional society are secured in their heads.
Vic: I don't like the sound of that.
Sandra: No. A bit 'brainwashy'.
Darren: What? No, no. How about a show about a milkman?
Vic: What's interesting about a milkman?
Darren: What's not interesting about a milkman?
Vic: He's a milkman.
Darren: So what? He can be a milkman and be interesting. What would you suggest, then?
Vic: I had this idea of a ninja that has the ability to...
Darren: Can I just stop you there, Vic? I appreciate your input, but when do you ever meet a ninja?
Vic: I don't follow.
Darren: Unless the youth of today are going to grow up and become ninjas, I really can't see the merits of a show about ninjas. 'The moral of the story: don't get blood on your balacalava.' A story about a milkman can teach the basics about business, at least.
Sandra: Business is boring, Darren. Kids don't care about business.
Darren: So we should just cater to their every childish whim, and somehow hope that the notion of being good at business will just pop into their heads at some point in the future? 'Mummy, I'm ditching the cartoons and wish to pursue a career in accountancy.' What about social norms? Do ninjas socialise?
Vic: Well, not really. They keep to themselves, as a rule.
Darren: Do we want kids to keep to themselves? I don't think we should promote reclusiveness.
Sandra: This is Mary Whitehouse all over again.
Darren: This isn't Mary Whitehouse! I'm not saying that ninjas are a bad influence. I'm just saying that at such a crucial and formative time in a child's life, ninjas are a pointless influence. We should be making the most of the suggestibility of children to make sure they're fully functioning upstairs! Come on, at least one good show would make the world of difference.
Vic: How about a ninja milkman?
Darren: ... Yeah, that'll do.

END! THIS IS THE END! STOP READING THIS BECAUSE IT HAS ENDED!

Monday 7 June 2010

Prepare to go 'hmm' in an interested way.

I can't sleep, and by fighting it I usually prolong the insomnia because my brain starts working even faster than usual, almost mockingly so, pursuing the sadistic goal of making sure that I can never shut down. As a result, I'm simply going to wait casually for the drowsiness to kick in. This very blog post is my way of wearing out my hyperactive lump of grey matter. The very eloquence of this blog post is an indicator of the sheer fury with which my brain is churning away, thrashing against the walls of my skull, screaming for stimuli.

I think a fact chain is in order.
Yes. I'm calling them fact chains now.
There have been 24 expeditions to the International Space Station (including the current one).
An idea for a form of escape craft, or 'lifeboat', for the International Space Station, the Crew Return Vehicle, was scrapped when it was decided that the station should just have some emergency docked Soyuz spacecraft.
The Soyuz spacecraft was originally designed in the 60s by the Soviet Union, to help in the race to beat the United States to the moon in a manned expedition.
The word 'Moon' comes from the Latin mensis, meaning 'month'.
The idea of months as units of time was devised by the ancient Egyptians.
The ancient Egyptians prized the blue stone lapis lazuli, and had it imported from Afghanistan.
Afghanistan culture is heavily influenced by Persian poetry.
One of the most famous pieces of persian literature, the epic poem Shahnameh, was written by a chap called Ferdowsi.
Ferdowsi was born in Iran, in a small village of Paj, in the year 940.
The High King of Ireland Brian Boru was born in around 940.
Ireland is the third largest island in Europe.
The word 'Europe' may have originated from two Semitic words: the Akkadian erebu meaning 'to set', or the Phoenican ereb, meaning 'evening' or 'west', as the Sun sets in the west.
An average solar day on earth is approximately 24 hours.
After the Brian Boru bit, by the way, I fell asleep (hurrah!) and so the rest was done a day later, as was this bit of text that I'm writing now. It feels weird for me to refer to writing this text in the past tense, as it is in the present as I'm typing, but it will be in the past when you read it, so I'm referring to the present as the past to correspond with the inevitable future. Phew. Right. Get it? Got it? Doubt it.

Bye bye now!

Sunday 6 June 2010


Peter Samuelson, interviewer. 29 April 2010.
I write like
Cory Doctorow

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!