Engineering student with a penchant for obsessive, sporadic and spontaneous behaviour. Take pictures, talk politics, design structures, think.
A short poem i’ve written. Inspired by the Scottish Independence debate, and the power of ignorance and the media.
A call to knowledge
What a horrible little corner of the world we live.
Bitter and negative.
No optimism, no truth.
Only self-loathing and lies and ignorance.
“We can’t be better.
We are dependent.
We are the inferior, and helpless:
Subsidy our heroin; our devotion and addiction.”
No national confidence.
A husk of a nation; cringing, embarrassed,
Consuming itself from within.
“Our influence, noble and illustrious: will be lost,
Our explosive, majestic influence.
Our deadly, imperial influence.
Its life extinguished.”
Our maleable minds manipulated by falsehood and assertion.
Free thinkers, fewer and fewer,
Fearing distortion and misrepresentation.
A national hive-mind.
“This nation can’t defend itself,
Malnourished and cowardly,
Too small, too poor, too weak, too dim,
The shield of the brave: a necessity.”
A hive-mind broadcast,
A hive-mind, passed down through generations,
We must obey,
We must not think.
“That treacherous man of ill intent,
Gluttonous eyes dreaming of power,
He means to rule us all,
Lying, deceitful, the despot will be our downfall.”
Twisting and writhing,
The debate slithers on.
A paranoid game of venom and poison.
The elixir of knowledge unwelcome.
We are the masters of our thoughts,
We hold the reigns,
That will guide us to wisdom.
We are the slumbering power,
Which the lies hold sway,
Ignorance our weakness,
Truth their enemy.
It is time to awaken.
“Even an Olympic curmudgeon like me had to admit the opening ceremony was pretty snazzy. That, however, was an absolute abortion.” A quote from political tweeter and blogger @WingsScotland in reference to the closing ceremony.
“I’m a Tory, and I hated your fortnight of joy, so tonight we organised a cavalcade of shit.” Quote from Scottish Comedian, Robert Florence, referring to closing ceremony.
The Olympics: the greatest show on earth and a (usually) once in a lifetime opportunity for a city or country to showcase itself to the world.
The opening ceremony, featuring a country scene dramatically transformed into an industrial nightmare, with monolith chimney stacks rising abruptly through fields and old farm land, was impressive. The Queen, the ACTUAL Queen, appeared on a short Bond inspired scene and then appeared to skydive into the stadium - wow! A memorial to the NHS; an attack by a wand weilding, voldemort look-a-like, inflatable David Cameron; an army of Mary Poppinses - it was all very eccentric, fun and spoke of a Britain that once existed. It all went a bit downhill from there when Danny Boyle tried too hard to represent contemporary youth culture: a lot of texting and tweeting apparently. The night ended with some awful crooning, but overall it was an impressive spectacle.
The two weeks of athletics which followed were incredible. The world came together. An historic medal haul for Team GB and some inspiring displays of sportmanship by the likes of Mo Farah, Usain Bolt and others. Even the BBC excelled itself in its coverage. It was a great games, as the Olympics usually are. A few problems with empty seats, corporate sponsorship and, in my opinion, awful architecture and venue designs, but all in all a success.
It was all going so well. Something had to ruin it. Well, ‘we’ are British. It was inevitable it would go tits up eventually. What an awful full-stop to an otherwise great occasion. The world may hate us now, after having had an overwhelmingly one-dimensional, celebrity obsessed, materialistic and shallow representation of a nation shoved down their eye-sockets and forced down their ear-holes. For some, idiots I call them, this was enough to tickle their pride glands. ‘Proud to be British’ they yelled and tweeted and facebooked. What?! Why?! What are you proud of? A homogeneous culture of mediocre music and celebrity idolisation? That’s the ‘culture’ of pretty well every nation on earth. The culture of globalisation. Why does it make some feel distinct? Who knows?
Like the rest of the Games, the closing ceremony was a sales pitch. A representation of corporate greed. This time the British music industry was the lucky benefactor. The amount of known drug users, past and present, on display was also a slap in the face for the IOC and it’s notoriously strict ‘anti-doping’ stance. Nice, UK. Nice example you’ve set there. Two weeks of sporting success ruined with a limp, sycophantic display of steaming turd.
Proud to be British? Proud of drug addled celebrities, of mediocre music, of size 0 models, of corporate greed, of idolisation, of unspeakable levels of shallowness? There’s something wrong when that’s what stirs pride in people’s soul. What fools we’ve been made to look.