Stories are important.
When we're learning to process thoughts and words in the first place, we learn through stories. When we're learning right and wrong, we learn through stories.
They form us and they inform us.
And when we're children, as any parent knows, we cling to our stories and we want to hear them again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and...
When we grow up, we start to create our own stories. We cast ourselves as the main characters and we craft our own story as we live our life. We sometimes spend a long time trying to work out who that character is. But we keep on with the stories anyway.
Sometimes, we tell stories about other people. Sometimes, we realise we're part of someone else's story. Sometimes we realise there are more stories than we can count.
And in the meantime, we tell each other stories. We speak them. We write them.
Funny stories. Sad stories. Personal stories. Scary stories. Bad stories. Good stories. Exciting stories. Beautiful stories.
We go and watch stories. We buy books so we can read stories. And we use technology to find new stories. We read stories in new ways. We listen to stories and we want our stories to be listened to.
We learn about each other through stories. We learn about the world with stories.
We start off making sense of life with stories and we end up making sense of our lives with stories.
Tuesday, 23 September 2014
Monday, 25 August 2014
Why I love horror
It's strange being a horror fan. Well, at least, a lot of other people seem to think so. It's one of the genres that some will just flat-out avoid.
"I'm a horror fan."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Is it serious?"
Personally, I find horror to be a comforting genre, which is admittedly somewhat counter to the intention of most horror films and movies. A good, scary movie (or even a crap, scary movie) can be what a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket can be for a lot of other people.
I think my introduction to horror was probably the Usborne 'World of the Unknown' series, with the 'All About Ghosts" book. It was beautifully illustrated with images that still stick in my mind (a quick google image search for it brings multiple memories flooding to the surface).
I was also a huge fan of Sherlock Holmes from a young age, and my favourite was obviously The Hound of the Baskervilles. There was a richness to Conan Doyle's stories that was always comforting. They were scary, with their tales of poisoners, snakes, dancing men and murder, but there was also the basic notion that there was someone interested in justice at the end of it.
I read a story once where Peter Cushing described meeting a priest who was a huge fan of his work. He queried the appropriateness of horror as a priest's hobby, but the priest pointed out that 'good always wins'. And whether it's a dishevelled lieutenant, a borderline-sociopathic victorian or a SOMETHING ELSE, there's almost always something good to counteract the evil in horror stories (although they don't win as often as the priest made out). For me, horror stands as a natural housemate for crime - they tread on each other's toes, but they support each other well.
My parents took a fairly liberal and sensible approach to my evident interest in horror. They started me off on the classics. While I was far too young to watch modern horror movies, I could work my way up as I got older. So, along with Sherlock Holmes, I fell in love with Dracula, Frankenstein and Jekyll & Hyde. And I began to watch Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff films whenever I could, to go along with my Basil Rathbone adoration (an adoration that stays, by the way. It made my day when I visited the rather beautiful Odeon in Muswell Hill and found their small exhibition celebrating their opening night, which Basil Rathbone attended).
When I got a little older, I was allowed to start watching Hammer and Amicus films - again, the Sherlock Holmes connection made the link easier, with Peter Cushing's version of Hound of the Baskervilles. These were generally slightly gorier and slightly sexier, with lurid technicolour and lashings of bright red blood.
By the time I was deemed to be old enough to watch Nightmare on Elm Street, that was pretty much it - I could judge for myself what I was willing to watch or not. My tastes never particularly went to the gory, anyway. It's not something I Have an issue with, but it's not much of a selling point for me either - give me suspense any day.
So, what do I like about horror? What is it about it that makes me more likely to watch it?
I think it's partially that there's something safe about them. They allow you the thrills of being scared, but in a controlled environment. That can be really quite comforting - the sensation of allowing yourself to be in that position. It's a small endorphin boost that can be quite reassuring.
Also, as I've grown older, I've found something fascinating in the way that horror features women. I think there's a general perception that women in horror tend to only be victims, there only to show their breasts and get torn up. And in bad films, yes, that's often the case. But it tends to be quite the opposite in the better films. Because they're based around what scares the central character, and based around their vulnerabilities, there tends to be at least one fully-formed, fairly three-dimensional woman front-and-centre, who has the majority of the screen-time, in roles that aren't exploitative. And as time has gone on, that trend has usually increased if anything.
But mainly, I think I love horror because it's an immensely human thing. A primal thing. It's all about an entirely basic reaction, and it's exploring what scares us in interesting ways. It's also about what scares us on a cultural level - the horror of the '20s and '30s is totally different to that of the '40s and '50s. Even horror of the last few years has been very different to what came before. And then there's the opportunity to look at the history of other cultures and seeing what scared them.
I find horror, and our reactions to being scared, generally fascinating. I also find our reactions to horror itself interesting, especially taking into account the way it seems to make us so edgy, especially in the western world. Look at the attempts to ban horror comics in the 1950s or the video nasties controversy in the '80s. It's interesting how heavy-handed the reactions can get (especially considering how small-time and poor some of the films were - or how good some of the genuine classics were).
And that's another point in there - there's a point in regards to freedom that I like with horror. When we can react in that kind of way. They're stories that people want to tell - whether they're good, bad, terrible or great. They're easy to try to do, but difficult to do well.
When they're done well, there's an artistry to it that takes your breath away with more than just gasps. They confound your expectations and their own tropes. They take the things that you're comfortable with and scare you with them, or they take the things we all feel uncomfortable about and use them to scare us in ways we weren't expecting. They push boundaries and tell us things about ourselves that we didn't know.
I'm not saying that these are things that other genres can't do, but I find that horror explores these things in a way that I find works for me. It's something that, at best, challenges me, making me look at important concepts in a different way.
No, horror isn't for everyone. Some people are going to look at the parts that I love and see only a naked emperor. Some aren't going to be able to get past some of the worse aspects of the genre, and I can understand that. And some are going to find it impossible not to sympathise with the characters that can be cruelly killed off.
But for those that love it, there's a lot more to it than the gory bits.
"I'm a horror fan."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Is it serious?"
Personally, I find horror to be a comforting genre, which is admittedly somewhat counter to the intention of most horror films and movies. A good, scary movie (or even a crap, scary movie) can be what a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket can be for a lot of other people.
I think my introduction to horror was probably the Usborne 'World of the Unknown' series, with the 'All About Ghosts" book. It was beautifully illustrated with images that still stick in my mind (a quick google image search for it brings multiple memories flooding to the surface).
 |
| If you read this as a kid, let the memories start flooding back... |
I was also a huge fan of Sherlock Holmes from a young age, and my favourite was obviously The Hound of the Baskervilles. There was a richness to Conan Doyle's stories that was always comforting. They were scary, with their tales of poisoners, snakes, dancing men and murder, but there was also the basic notion that there was someone interested in justice at the end of it.
I read a story once where Peter Cushing described meeting a priest who was a huge fan of his work. He queried the appropriateness of horror as a priest's hobby, but the priest pointed out that 'good always wins'. And whether it's a dishevelled lieutenant, a borderline-sociopathic victorian or a SOMETHING ELSE, there's almost always something good to counteract the evil in horror stories (although they don't win as often as the priest made out). For me, horror stands as a natural housemate for crime - they tread on each other's toes, but they support each other well.
My parents took a fairly liberal and sensible approach to my evident interest in horror. They started me off on the classics. While I was far too young to watch modern horror movies, I could work my way up as I got older. So, along with Sherlock Holmes, I fell in love with Dracula, Frankenstein and Jekyll & Hyde. And I began to watch Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff films whenever I could, to go along with my Basil Rathbone adoration (an adoration that stays, by the way. It made my day when I visited the rather beautiful Odeon in Muswell Hill and found their small exhibition celebrating their opening night, which Basil Rathbone attended).
When I got a little older, I was allowed to start watching Hammer and Amicus films - again, the Sherlock Holmes connection made the link easier, with Peter Cushing's version of Hound of the Baskervilles. These were generally slightly gorier and slightly sexier, with lurid technicolour and lashings of bright red blood.
By the time I was deemed to be old enough to watch Nightmare on Elm Street, that was pretty much it - I could judge for myself what I was willing to watch or not. My tastes never particularly went to the gory, anyway. It's not something I Have an issue with, but it's not much of a selling point for me either - give me suspense any day.
So, what do I like about horror? What is it about it that makes me more likely to watch it?
I think it's partially that there's something safe about them. They allow you the thrills of being scared, but in a controlled environment. That can be really quite comforting - the sensation of allowing yourself to be in that position. It's a small endorphin boost that can be quite reassuring.
Also, as I've grown older, I've found something fascinating in the way that horror features women. I think there's a general perception that women in horror tend to only be victims, there only to show their breasts and get torn up. And in bad films, yes, that's often the case. But it tends to be quite the opposite in the better films. Because they're based around what scares the central character, and based around their vulnerabilities, there tends to be at least one fully-formed, fairly three-dimensional woman front-and-centre, who has the majority of the screen-time, in roles that aren't exploitative. And as time has gone on, that trend has usually increased if anything.
But mainly, I think I love horror because it's an immensely human thing. A primal thing. It's all about an entirely basic reaction, and it's exploring what scares us in interesting ways. It's also about what scares us on a cultural level - the horror of the '20s and '30s is totally different to that of the '40s and '50s. Even horror of the last few years has been very different to what came before. And then there's the opportunity to look at the history of other cultures and seeing what scared them.
I find horror, and our reactions to being scared, generally fascinating. I also find our reactions to horror itself interesting, especially taking into account the way it seems to make us so edgy, especially in the western world. Look at the attempts to ban horror comics in the 1950s or the video nasties controversy in the '80s. It's interesting how heavy-handed the reactions can get (especially considering how small-time and poor some of the films were - or how good some of the genuine classics were).
And that's another point in there - there's a point in regards to freedom that I like with horror. When we can react in that kind of way. They're stories that people want to tell - whether they're good, bad, terrible or great. They're easy to try to do, but difficult to do well.
When they're done well, there's an artistry to it that takes your breath away with more than just gasps. They confound your expectations and their own tropes. They take the things that you're comfortable with and scare you with them, or they take the things we all feel uncomfortable about and use them to scare us in ways we weren't expecting. They push boundaries and tell us things about ourselves that we didn't know.
I'm not saying that these are things that other genres can't do, but I find that horror explores these things in a way that I find works for me. It's something that, at best, challenges me, making me look at important concepts in a different way.
No, horror isn't for everyone. Some people are going to look at the parts that I love and see only a naked emperor. Some aren't going to be able to get past some of the worse aspects of the genre, and I can understand that. And some are going to find it impossible not to sympathise with the characters that can be cruelly killed off.
But for those that love it, there's a lot more to it than the gory bits.
Wednesday, 9 July 2014
Writing and Earning
Earlier today, a news story did the rounds, talking about how authors are earning less and less. It makes the point that the average author income per year is now around £11,000 with a picture of Will Self looking sad. Or, rather, a picture of Will Self.
It's a depressing article, but I feel there is more to the story. And, for new authors (or aspiring authors), I think there are positive points to take away from it. In fact, I think that for new authors, there's never been a more exciting time to get into writing.
The publishing game is changing. This isn't news - everyone knows this. But it's worth considering just some of the ways in which it's changing. It's at a crossroads at the moment, as customers have more content at their fingertips than ever before and, as a result, seem to value content less than ever before. Younger people, especially, appear to expect that all content (whether it be writing, music or TV and films) should be free, or at least come as part of a minimal monthly fee.
But where did this come from? Think about how customers now buy books. Time was, your main places to buy books were bookshops, either new or second-hand, the latter of which didn't really make the publishing company or the author any money.
This meant, for the most part, customers were restricted to buying what was available in the bookshop at the time. As a result, just getting on the shelves gave you a chance of selling copies at a far higher rate than your competitors who were not on the shelves.
Now, however, with so many books ordered online, the amount of choice has increased enormously. You're now competing with everything that's in print, as they're all as easy to buy as each other. This is better news for readers than it is for writers. In fact, at this point, the game is set in the favour of non-new books. Theyre cheaper, after all, and they're not as untested. There are more reviews and the writers are likely to be more well-known.
When you add the kindle sales, the choice becomes even more extensive. Books can be bought instantly, without many of the overheads involved in printing books. This adds a major extra factor, which is the number of free books that you can easily pick up, whether they're intentionally free, on offer or simply out of copyright. Everything written before the last hundred years is eligible to be downloaded for free, ranging from the works of Shakespeare to the stories of Sherlock Holmes.
So your book now has to compete with all the books ever written. Many of the greatest and most famous of which are free. You're in the biggest bookshop ever created. Along with everyone else. Ever.
That's the bad news.
The good news is that the places where customers buy books are now easier to get into than they ever have been. Whether it's working with one of the many new publishers out there or whether it's putting your own work out there via direct publishing, it's easier to actually sell copies of your books to more people than at any point in history.
This doesn't mean that it comes without work. You can be in the shop, but you're still going to have to convince people to look at your book instead of other people's.
Up until now, this has generally been the role of the publishers or the booksellers. And, obviously, most of this still is - Amazon is, after all, a selling machine and the major publishers didn't get where they are now just purely through being there for a long time. Publishers offer a level of awareness-raising that makes many book deals worth striving for. They're the experts after all. And there are plenty of good publishers who are experimenting with new ideas.
However, what has changed is that there are more opportunities to market yourself. Social media, paid online advertising, blog tours, submitting articles... whatever you can think of, really. If you're good and prepared to work for it, this may be a better time than there has ever been to get a foothold.
Meanwhile, publishers are having to do more to justify the budgets that they spend on books, which means authors have to keep justifying investment in them, right from the start. This is why Val McDermid has talked about how she would be a failure if she started out today (although I think that she's so likable, I doubt it, personally... it just may have taken her longer).
Money is still being spent on books. It's just being spent in more places than ever before, so it's being spread out over more authors. And everyone's trying to work out what this means for the industry as a whole.
Writers are going to have to be more diverse from here on out. Part writer, part publicist and very possibly part publisher. There's room for more diversification and room for more experimentation. The chances of making a career solely as a writer may be more difficult, but the chances of making writing fiction part of your career?
Write. Have confidence in yourself. Adapt and change and be part of the future of where writing is going. Write lots and do what you can to get out there and network and publicise yourself and develop fan bases and learn everything you can about how publishing works and who does it well and how they do it well.
The writing game isn't over. The rules have just changed, that's all. And they're still being written. Because they're always being written and rewritten.
So what's stopping you rewriting them?
It's a depressing article, but I feel there is more to the story. And, for new authors (or aspiring authors), I think there are positive points to take away from it. In fact, I think that for new authors, there's never been a more exciting time to get into writing.
The publishing game is changing. This isn't news - everyone knows this. But it's worth considering just some of the ways in which it's changing. It's at a crossroads at the moment, as customers have more content at their fingertips than ever before and, as a result, seem to value content less than ever before. Younger people, especially, appear to expect that all content (whether it be writing, music or TV and films) should be free, or at least come as part of a minimal monthly fee.
But where did this come from? Think about how customers now buy books. Time was, your main places to buy books were bookshops, either new or second-hand, the latter of which didn't really make the publishing company or the author any money.
This meant, for the most part, customers were restricted to buying what was available in the bookshop at the time. As a result, just getting on the shelves gave you a chance of selling copies at a far higher rate than your competitors who were not on the shelves.
Now, however, with so many books ordered online, the amount of choice has increased enormously. You're now competing with everything that's in print, as they're all as easy to buy as each other. This is better news for readers than it is for writers. In fact, at this point, the game is set in the favour of non-new books. Theyre cheaper, after all, and they're not as untested. There are more reviews and the writers are likely to be more well-known.
When you add the kindle sales, the choice becomes even more extensive. Books can be bought instantly, without many of the overheads involved in printing books. This adds a major extra factor, which is the number of free books that you can easily pick up, whether they're intentionally free, on offer or simply out of copyright. Everything written before the last hundred years is eligible to be downloaded for free, ranging from the works of Shakespeare to the stories of Sherlock Holmes.
So your book now has to compete with all the books ever written. Many of the greatest and most famous of which are free. You're in the biggest bookshop ever created. Along with everyone else. Ever.
That's the bad news.
The good news is that the places where customers buy books are now easier to get into than they ever have been. Whether it's working with one of the many new publishers out there or whether it's putting your own work out there via direct publishing, it's easier to actually sell copies of your books to more people than at any point in history.
This doesn't mean that it comes without work. You can be in the shop, but you're still going to have to convince people to look at your book instead of other people's.
Up until now, this has generally been the role of the publishers or the booksellers. And, obviously, most of this still is - Amazon is, after all, a selling machine and the major publishers didn't get where they are now just purely through being there for a long time. Publishers offer a level of awareness-raising that makes many book deals worth striving for. They're the experts after all. And there are plenty of good publishers who are experimenting with new ideas.
However, what has changed is that there are more opportunities to market yourself. Social media, paid online advertising, blog tours, submitting articles... whatever you can think of, really. If you're good and prepared to work for it, this may be a better time than there has ever been to get a foothold.
Meanwhile, publishers are having to do more to justify the budgets that they spend on books, which means authors have to keep justifying investment in them, right from the start. This is why Val McDermid has talked about how she would be a failure if she started out today (although I think that she's so likable, I doubt it, personally... it just may have taken her longer).
Money is still being spent on books. It's just being spent in more places than ever before, so it's being spread out over more authors. And everyone's trying to work out what this means for the industry as a whole.
Writers are going to have to be more diverse from here on out. Part writer, part publicist and very possibly part publisher. There's room for more diversification and room for more experimentation. The chances of making a career solely as a writer may be more difficult, but the chances of making writing fiction part of your career?
Write. Have confidence in yourself. Adapt and change and be part of the future of where writing is going. Write lots and do what you can to get out there and network and publicise yourself and develop fan bases and learn everything you can about how publishing works and who does it well and how they do it well.
The writing game isn't over. The rules have just changed, that's all. And they're still being written. Because they're always being written and rewritten.
So what's stopping you rewriting them?
Saturday, 14 June 2014
Iain Duncan Smith and the Scrounger Narrative
 |
| Iain Duncan Smith responding to Salma Yaqoob |
But the anger I felt at Iain Duncan Smith on Thursday was something different.
During the show, he'd been having a shockingly easy time of it. Despite the relative rarity of having a secretary of state on Question Time, either no questions were asked that were about his direct work or none were selected.
However, Salma Yaqeeb, the head of the Birmingham Stop the War Coalition, made things a little bit more difficult - albeit after being repeatedly shouted over and interrupted by the male panelists in an uncomfortable display that made me disappointed in both Chris Bryant and Ian Hislop.
She immediately became a twitter darling when she said to Iain Duncan Smith:
"I’m sitting next to Iain Duncan Smith who labels poor people as scroungers when you claim £39 for a breakfast, like you can’t afford your own breakfast, and you live on your wife’s estate and have taken a million pounds of taxpayers’ money, that’s what I call scrounging."
To which Duncan Smith replied, with an air of offended sensibilities and personal outrage:
"What a load of old nonsense. I have never, ever labelled them as scroungers at all."
I actually believe that he doesn't use the term. He's taken George Osborne to task about it and has also talked about how his party have got the language wrong. So, yes. I totally believe he has never called them scroungers.
But that's not the point. The point is that he has labelled them scroungers, repeatedly and intentionally. The point is that he has created, established and maintained the narrative of people on benefits being scroungers.
Here are just some of the headlines you'll find when you google search 'Iain Duncan Smith Scroungers'. If he was so upset about labelling people 'scroungers', don't you think he'd have had something to say about these headlines?
Benefits system is broken! UK's top scroungers on £300-a-week more than the average family
February 24, 2014Mr Duncan Smith said: “Benefits were out of control and people were rightly outraged at some households receiving far more in benefits than the ordinary hard-working family.
“We have fixed this broken system by introducing a fair limit to make sure the system works for taxpayers who fund it. Our reforms ensure claiming benefits is no longer a more attractive option than being in work.”
Workshy told scrounging no longer an option in new benefits crackdown
December 28 2013Duncan Smith said: “The decision to claim benefits should no longer be considered a lifestyle choice.
“This will make it clear that looking for work requires as much effort and commitment as a full-time job.”
Disabled people once again branded as scroungers
15 May 2012Dicussing a Telegraph interview, in which Iain Duncan Smith says that the number of claimants has risen by 30 percent in recent years “rising well ahead of any other gauge you might make about illness, sickness, disability”. Losing a limb should not automatically entitle people to a pay-out, he suggests.
2015 starts now: Tories get tough on scroungers and immigrants
18 February 2013Speaking on the Marr Show, Duncan Smith said: "My view of life is simple – we make sure our door is shut to those who want to come and claim benefits and is open to those who want to come and contribute and work and make this economy good and strong."
Government declares war on Benefits Street's scroungers
January 23 2014He added: "Our real success has been to reframe the argument (emphasis mine) – challenging a narrative beloved of the left … which focuses so exclusively on how much is being spent on welfare that it risks overlooking the real question: it is not about how much goes into the benefit system, but what difference it makes to people at the other end."
4,000 jobless singletons raking in benefits worth more than £23,000 to be hit by lower benefits cap for people living alone
12 August 2013‘For those eyeballing benefits as a one-way ticket to easy street, I have a wake-up call for you: those days are over,’ he writes.
2015 starts now: Tories get tough on scroungers and immigrants
Monday 18 February 2013Speaking on the Marr Show, Duncan Smith said: "My view of life is simple – we make sure our door is shut to those who want to come and claim benefits and is open to those who want to come and contribute and work and make this economy good and strong."
There are plenty more.
Iain Duncan Smith doesn't want to be called out for labelling people scroungers. But he has pushed the narrative time and time and time and time and time and time again.
The idea that our government would intentionally create this narrative and then try to distance itself from it makes me angry.
The idea that Iain Duncan Smith has pushed a narrative about scroungers when so many of them are people that need our help makes me angry.
The idea that he categorises human beings as job seekers who aren't pulling their weight enough or people with mental or physical issues preventing them from working as fraudsters in a country where these benefits can make the difference between life and death makes me angry.
The idea that Iain Duncan Smith can do all of this again and again and again and again over years, but get upset and offended because he avoids using a specific word, the idea that he would try to abdicate responsibility for his own clear and repeated actions, the idea that he would try to turn it into a narrative about words instead... that just disgusts me.
Monday, 9 June 2014
Remembering Rik Mayall
I'm expecting this to get lost. It's the one thing that's making me feel like I'm not jumping on a bandwagon or trying to make this all about me. I'm expecting the outpouring of emotion and memories about Rik Mayall to be so enormous that this is just going to be one of the flow.
I'm 34 and I'm not quite sure how that's happened. It seems to have happened incredibly quickly, because somehow, Rik Mayall was a big part of my life a long time ago. It seems and feels like it was still fairly recent, because his death brings so many vivid memories flooding forward that it feels like I've only just experienced them. But I mention my age because it puts me squarely in a generation that grew up with Rik Mayall.
The first thing that I remember him from was The Young Ones - specifically, The Young Ones singing 'Living Doll' with Cliff Richard. It was anarchic and it was silly and it was a little bit rude (at least, the bits that I understood) and I was absolutely blown away by it. I immediately became a huge fan of The Young Ones, whenever I was able to see it.
Looking back, I've no idea what my parents were playing at, letting me watch The Young Ones at that age. But I'm exceptionally glad that they did. Well, I'm not actually that surprised that they did. I was of the age where so many of the jokes went over my head that all I really had was the sheer silliness and the characters.
We forget, I think, that we were accepting of so much stuff going over our heads as children. It's like growing up and realising just how much of Grease was actually about sex, because you were young enough to just not know what 'flogging your log' was. There was so much stuff flying over our heads that you mainly asked about the things that you needed to understand for plot reasons. Danny's going home to flog his log... I think I associated that a bit with log rolling or something else boring that he'd rather do than hang around with the others.
But with Rik Mayall, there wasn't that need. He was just funny - naturally and consistently. He had an incredible energy, a dangerous and manic quality that meant you couldn't help but watch him. The next thing I saw him in was Blackadder as Lord Flashheart. A character that's onscreen in total over two episodes for about 15 minutes and yet is one of the most immediately recognisable and quotable characters ever written in comedy. When I realised that Flash and Rick were played by the same actor, I just fell in love.
It helped that Mayall had a beautifully childlike quality about him, which made him a natural for story-telling, which he seemed to enjoy just as much as anyone listening when he gleefully played around with inevitably disgusting details. It felt a little bit like he was recognising and encouraging something in the children that adored him, which made it all feel a bit naughty and yet freeing.
It was this quality that likely saw the creation of Drop Dead Fred - a movie that doesn't quite work, but through no fault of the full-on performance by Mayall that's made it a favourite of lots of people in their early-to-mid-thirties. He just threw himself about the screen like a cross between Miranda Richardson's Queenie and a Looney Tunes character. A film that was a little grown up for a kid's audience but a bit too childish for an adult audience, I can't help but wonder how it could have worked with someone like Sarah Silverman opposite Rik, able to tap into the little girl that would have been just as manic as Mayall.
As much as I loved the work that he did in the UK (especially Bottom and the New Statesman), I always felt a little like he was underestimated as a talent. The at-times-stunning Rik Mayall Presents - a short series of one-off stories, usually showing a more serious side to his phenomenal acting ability - displayed him at his peak. Dark, sympathetic or just pathetic... he was an amazingly versatile actor. Kevin Turvey, Rick, Richard Richard, Drop Dead Fred and Alan B'Stard. While you never forgot that you were watching Rik Mayall, all you'd need is a second of any of them to recognise them instantly. Most comedians never get to create one iconic character. Mayall created numerous. There may have been some DNA in common between them, but you'd never mistake one for the other.
Bottom was, of course, magnificent - the live shows were riotously funny at times, and showed off how much fun he seemed to be having sometimes. Sadly, that fun wasn't always there. Mayall could, by some accounts, be awkward and arsey at times, especially following the quad bike accident that almost (and technically did) kill him. Suffering from long-term effects of the accident, it appears that his frustration occasionally made him difficult to work with.
He worked less after he recovered from the accident, but there were still flashes of the brilliance that had been there before. I'd always hoped that he'd have a late autumn in his career, ideally moving towards more straight acting. He was incredibly charismatic and the intensity that he carried as a performer always put me in mind of Jack Nicholson. I'm not intending to exaggerate when I say that I absolutely believe he could have been that good.
If I feel sad now, it's because for all his talent and for all his achievements, it still never feels like Rik Mayall got the opportunities on a worldwide basis that seemed due. I always thought it would happen one day. I always wanted his talent to get more recognition. I wish I'd kept up with more of his work in recent years, because he's a performer I always enjoyed watching.
As it is, though, I don't feel that sad. I feel lucky and many of us should. I got to grow up watching Rik Mayall, that dangerous jester that appeared to terrify adults while sharing a wink with the children. He let us in on the joke and the jokes were fantastic. Rik Mayall is one of the greatest performers ever to have been on television. It is obviously sad that he has died, but it was a privilege to be alive when he was.
I'm 34 and I'm not quite sure how that's happened. It seems to have happened incredibly quickly, because somehow, Rik Mayall was a big part of my life a long time ago. It seems and feels like it was still fairly recent, because his death brings so many vivid memories flooding forward that it feels like I've only just experienced them. But I mention my age because it puts me squarely in a generation that grew up with Rik Mayall.
The first thing that I remember him from was The Young Ones - specifically, The Young Ones singing 'Living Doll' with Cliff Richard. It was anarchic and it was silly and it was a little bit rude (at least, the bits that I understood) and I was absolutely blown away by it. I immediately became a huge fan of The Young Ones, whenever I was able to see it.
Looking back, I've no idea what my parents were playing at, letting me watch The Young Ones at that age. But I'm exceptionally glad that they did. Well, I'm not actually that surprised that they did. I was of the age where so many of the jokes went over my head that all I really had was the sheer silliness and the characters.
We forget, I think, that we were accepting of so much stuff going over our heads as children. It's like growing up and realising just how much of Grease was actually about sex, because you were young enough to just not know what 'flogging your log' was. There was so much stuff flying over our heads that you mainly asked about the things that you needed to understand for plot reasons. Danny's going home to flog his log... I think I associated that a bit with log rolling or something else boring that he'd rather do than hang around with the others.
But with Rik Mayall, there wasn't that need. He was just funny - naturally and consistently. He had an incredible energy, a dangerous and manic quality that meant you couldn't help but watch him. The next thing I saw him in was Blackadder as Lord Flashheart. A character that's onscreen in total over two episodes for about 15 minutes and yet is one of the most immediately recognisable and quotable characters ever written in comedy. When I realised that Flash and Rick were played by the same actor, I just fell in love.
It helped that Mayall had a beautifully childlike quality about him, which made him a natural for story-telling, which he seemed to enjoy just as much as anyone listening when he gleefully played around with inevitably disgusting details. It felt a little bit like he was recognising and encouraging something in the children that adored him, which made it all feel a bit naughty and yet freeing.
It was this quality that likely saw the creation of Drop Dead Fred - a movie that doesn't quite work, but through no fault of the full-on performance by Mayall that's made it a favourite of lots of people in their early-to-mid-thirties. He just threw himself about the screen like a cross between Miranda Richardson's Queenie and a Looney Tunes character. A film that was a little grown up for a kid's audience but a bit too childish for an adult audience, I can't help but wonder how it could have worked with someone like Sarah Silverman opposite Rik, able to tap into the little girl that would have been just as manic as Mayall.
As much as I loved the work that he did in the UK (especially Bottom and the New Statesman), I always felt a little like he was underestimated as a talent. The at-times-stunning Rik Mayall Presents - a short series of one-off stories, usually showing a more serious side to his phenomenal acting ability - displayed him at his peak. Dark, sympathetic or just pathetic... he was an amazingly versatile actor. Kevin Turvey, Rick, Richard Richard, Drop Dead Fred and Alan B'Stard. While you never forgot that you were watching Rik Mayall, all you'd need is a second of any of them to recognise them instantly. Most comedians never get to create one iconic character. Mayall created numerous. There may have been some DNA in common between them, but you'd never mistake one for the other.
Bottom was, of course, magnificent - the live shows were riotously funny at times, and showed off how much fun he seemed to be having sometimes. Sadly, that fun wasn't always there. Mayall could, by some accounts, be awkward and arsey at times, especially following the quad bike accident that almost (and technically did) kill him. Suffering from long-term effects of the accident, it appears that his frustration occasionally made him difficult to work with.
He worked less after he recovered from the accident, but there were still flashes of the brilliance that had been there before. I'd always hoped that he'd have a late autumn in his career, ideally moving towards more straight acting. He was incredibly charismatic and the intensity that he carried as a performer always put me in mind of Jack Nicholson. I'm not intending to exaggerate when I say that I absolutely believe he could have been that good.
If I feel sad now, it's because for all his talent and for all his achievements, it still never feels like Rik Mayall got the opportunities on a worldwide basis that seemed due. I always thought it would happen one day. I always wanted his talent to get more recognition. I wish I'd kept up with more of his work in recent years, because he's a performer I always enjoyed watching.
As it is, though, I don't feel that sad. I feel lucky and many of us should. I got to grow up watching Rik Mayall, that dangerous jester that appeared to terrify adults while sharing a wink with the children. He let us in on the joke and the jokes were fantastic. Rik Mayall is one of the greatest performers ever to have been on television. It is obviously sad that he has died, but it was a privilege to be alive when he was.
Sunday, 11 May 2014
Question Time and the UKIP problem
I'm a big fan of the BBC, and I don't think that they show much in the way of bias. In fact, I think that they generally do a good job of representing issues fairly, but I do think that they have to take a certain amount of responsibility for the surge in popularity of UKIP.
In the last six months, UKIP have been on BBC Question Time on more than one every four episodes (excluding a more Welsh specific one and a South African one), with six showings. And in the last five episodes alone, UKIP has been represented three times.
As we all know, Nigel Farage himself has been on a lot. In fact, in the last six months, he has equalled appearances with Grant Shapps and Danny Alexander, who appear to have as empty a social diary as him*. In recent decades, the only guest that has ever had more appearances than him is Charles Kennedy. And Nigel's only one appearance behind Charles.
This is quite the record for a party that doesn't have any MPs. Parties that actually do have MPs like the Green Party have had a single appearance by Caroline Lucas (on a show that Nigel Farage was on). And the notoriously publicity-shy George Galloway has also had a single appearance in the last six months as well.
But the appearances aren't enough for UKIP. In an article earlier this year, Farage asked whether Question Time audiences are too hostile, suggesting that there's an unfair balance in the audience leaning to the left and suggesting that those that criticise may be plants. As anyone who saw last week's question time, when Charlie Bloom criticised Farage, using the context of far right parties and history to explain why he didn't 'have any time for you, sir', UKIP certainly do come in for some stick. And, if you check out his timeline on twitter, you'll see that there are plenty of UKIP supporters claiming that he's a plant as well.
But why am I concerned about how often UKIP are on Question Time? After all, when the BNP went on Question Time, overestimating the cuddle-ability of Nick Griffin, they pretty much died out soon afterwards.
The difficulty is that UKIP do a great job of appearing as if they're the underdogs, while doing their level best to appeal to the fear and hatred that permeate parts of our society.
They're basically very good at having their cake and eating it. Having members of the party that openly criticise gay marriage or refer to David Cameron as a 'gay loving nutcase', and saying that these don't reflect the views of the party, while also saying that the over-70s are uncomfortable with gays and gay marriage. Saying that it's not the kind of thing that they do, while making clear that they understand those who are worried about it.
It's the same thing with racism. Whether it's their members that refer to 'Bongo Bongo Land', or Farage supporting Jeremy Clarkson's use of the word 'nigger'** as being 'perhaps not quite going over" the line of being offensive. It's treated as simply being controversial or old-fashioned rather than being racist.
But then, racism is something that Nigel Farage doesn't appear to see a huge problem with. Whether it's his school teachers describing him as a racist or whether it's the multiple news reports from earlier in his career about the regularity with which he allegedly used words like 'nigger' and 'nig-nog', including when having meetings with BNP members. Or maybe his version of 'racism' is different to a lot of other people's. UKIP deny pretty much all of that, incidentally, or Farage disavows responsibility, playing it off essentially as schoolyard japes to get attention.
Of course, it's the over-65s that are the greatest supporters of UKIP and the most likely to move that way, which is part of why UKIP are doing their best to appeal to the more scared and resentful members of that generation. It also may be why they're going out of their way to appeal to the elements of that generation that may have more sexist, racist and homophobic attitudes, or at least don't get why things have changed so much, because in their day, it just wasn't offensive, don't you see? The fact that this age-group is also far more likely to vote at all just makes them all the more appealing.
The more that the party turns up on television, the more legitimised they become and the more popular they become. The more they get to portray the myth that they're a friendly, inclusive party.
But also, and I fall as foul of this as anyone, the more they rile people up. The more they get people watching and discussing and the more that shows like Question Time rank on twitter and the more column inches they get. But it's a vicious circle - the more they appear, the more they're discussed and the more relevant they seem to be, so the more they appear and the more they're discussed, and...
Some of this is presented as Farage being charismatic. I don't see it, personally. He's loud and laughs a lot, but he's actually very boring. He strikes me as the kind of guy you'd avoid in the office or the pubs that he's so very fond of being photographed in. But I do understand that he makes for good - or at least popular - television.
I just wish that Question Time, This Week, and the like weren't making their job so easy right now. Personally, I wish that The Green Party and the NHA party were getting more of that free publicity, in order to highlight areas I think are more important issues like the environment and the future of the NHS.
It's important to remember that discussion on the internet is only going to accomplish so much, whether it's blog posts like this one, twitter or facebook, as that's not the main audience that UKIP are aiming at. The best way to limit the damage that UKIP can do is to get out and vote. Every vote that isn't for them reduces the overall amount of share that they get.
* This is based on going through the last six months of guests on Question Time as recorded on the BBC website (which has incomplete information in the sum-ups) and Wikipedia.
** I went back and forward over whether to censor this on the blog or not. In the end, I decided that these are ugly words, and it's the ugliness that I want to highlight. If you feel I've misjudged this, I apologise.
In the last six months, UKIP have been on BBC Question Time on more than one every four episodes (excluding a more Welsh specific one and a South African one), with six showings. And in the last five episodes alone, UKIP has been represented three times.
As we all know, Nigel Farage himself has been on a lot. In fact, in the last six months, he has equalled appearances with Grant Shapps and Danny Alexander, who appear to have as empty a social diary as him*. In recent decades, the only guest that has ever had more appearances than him is Charles Kennedy. And Nigel's only one appearance behind Charles.
This is quite the record for a party that doesn't have any MPs. Parties that actually do have MPs like the Green Party have had a single appearance by Caroline Lucas (on a show that Nigel Farage was on). And the notoriously publicity-shy George Galloway has also had a single appearance in the last six months as well.
But the appearances aren't enough for UKIP. In an article earlier this year, Farage asked whether Question Time audiences are too hostile, suggesting that there's an unfair balance in the audience leaning to the left and suggesting that those that criticise may be plants. As anyone who saw last week's question time, when Charlie Bloom criticised Farage, using the context of far right parties and history to explain why he didn't 'have any time for you, sir', UKIP certainly do come in for some stick. And, if you check out his timeline on twitter, you'll see that there are plenty of UKIP supporters claiming that he's a plant as well.
But why am I concerned about how often UKIP are on Question Time? After all, when the BNP went on Question Time, overestimating the cuddle-ability of Nick Griffin, they pretty much died out soon afterwards.
The difficulty is that UKIP do a great job of appearing as if they're the underdogs, while doing their level best to appeal to the fear and hatred that permeate parts of our society.
They're basically very good at having their cake and eating it. Having members of the party that openly criticise gay marriage or refer to David Cameron as a 'gay loving nutcase', and saying that these don't reflect the views of the party, while also saying that the over-70s are uncomfortable with gays and gay marriage. Saying that it's not the kind of thing that they do, while making clear that they understand those who are worried about it.
It's the same thing with racism. Whether it's their members that refer to 'Bongo Bongo Land', or Farage supporting Jeremy Clarkson's use of the word 'nigger'** as being 'perhaps not quite going over" the line of being offensive. It's treated as simply being controversial or old-fashioned rather than being racist.
But then, racism is something that Nigel Farage doesn't appear to see a huge problem with. Whether it's his school teachers describing him as a racist or whether it's the multiple news reports from earlier in his career about the regularity with which he allegedly used words like 'nigger' and 'nig-nog', including when having meetings with BNP members. Or maybe his version of 'racism' is different to a lot of other people's. UKIP deny pretty much all of that, incidentally, or Farage disavows responsibility, playing it off essentially as schoolyard japes to get attention.
Of course, it's the over-65s that are the greatest supporters of UKIP and the most likely to move that way, which is part of why UKIP are doing their best to appeal to the more scared and resentful members of that generation. It also may be why they're going out of their way to appeal to the elements of that generation that may have more sexist, racist and homophobic attitudes, or at least don't get why things have changed so much, because in their day, it just wasn't offensive, don't you see? The fact that this age-group is also far more likely to vote at all just makes them all the more appealing.
The more that the party turns up on television, the more legitimised they become and the more popular they become. The more they get to portray the myth that they're a friendly, inclusive party.
But also, and I fall as foul of this as anyone, the more they rile people up. The more they get people watching and discussing and the more that shows like Question Time rank on twitter and the more column inches they get. But it's a vicious circle - the more they appear, the more they're discussed and the more relevant they seem to be, so the more they appear and the more they're discussed, and...
Some of this is presented as Farage being charismatic. I don't see it, personally. He's loud and laughs a lot, but he's actually very boring. He strikes me as the kind of guy you'd avoid in the office or the pubs that he's so very fond of being photographed in. But I do understand that he makes for good - or at least popular - television.
I just wish that Question Time, This Week, and the like weren't making their job so easy right now. Personally, I wish that The Green Party and the NHA party were getting more of that free publicity, in order to highlight areas I think are more important issues like the environment and the future of the NHS.
It's important to remember that discussion on the internet is only going to accomplish so much, whether it's blog posts like this one, twitter or facebook, as that's not the main audience that UKIP are aiming at. The best way to limit the damage that UKIP can do is to get out and vote. Every vote that isn't for them reduces the overall amount of share that they get.
* This is based on going through the last six months of guests on Question Time as recorded on the BBC website (which has incomplete information in the sum-ups) and Wikipedia.
** I went back and forward over whether to censor this on the blog or not. In the end, I decided that these are ugly words, and it's the ugliness that I want to highlight. If you feel I've misjudged this, I apologise.
Thursday, 8 May 2014
Short Story - Base Station Q
This was my entry to the SciFiLondon Flash Fiction challenge. I was given the following and the challenge was to write a story that used all three:
Title: BASE STATION Q
Line: "If, for any reason, I do not respond I'll leave a note."
Theme: "Everything we touch gets our DNA, Litter is now traceable to the owner"
And here was my story.
BASE STATION Q
I saw him break.
He tried his best to withold the information, but our heightened interrogation techniques are essentially impossible to stand for long. They're physically harmless, as they only involve a series of injections to the base of the skull to allow us to reroute their pain receptors and control them. The agony that they feel is strictly illusion.
We do not torture. We create the illusion of torture. We are humane.
But when we find out that one of the higher-ups in the movement has left some physical evidence somewhere, we have to find out where that is. Our security depends on it.
We had been monitoring his communications for some time. We believe him to be mid-level, but based on the tone of the conversations, we believed that he had affection for her. Maybe was even in love with her.
She is very clever. She communicates with her network almost entirely virtually, and then using every level of encryption and re-routing that is possible, and a few that some of our technicians claim are impossible. She's like smoke, twisting through every attempt to find her.
If we have DNA evidence, no matter how small, we can track someone. The entire city is monitored.
It started in the days of closed circuit television, but as scanners became more sensitive, we ended up being able to track and trace information far more carefully. Crime dropped quickly when this happened, because all it took was the slightest touch of something, in a way that allowed us to identify the DNA, and then...
Then we scan the entire city for skin particles. You leave them everywhere, whether by touching something or the way they just slough off your skin. Sometimes the breeze scatters them, but it doesn’t matter. We just find the highest occurrence locations, and we have a nice, simple, easy-to- follow trail.
But we need something that we know they’ve touched.
So when she asked him to go to 'the usual place' to pick up contraband, and then respond with confirmation, she signed off with something she'd never said before.
"If, for any reason, I do not respond, I'll leave a note."
When she then didn’t respond, that changed everything.
A note. An old fashioned, honest-to-goodness note. Ink on paper. Actual physical paper. That she would have had to have touched at some point. And because of the way that it was said, he must have known where that note would be left.
And so we interrogated him, and when that didn’t work, we moved to enhanced interrogation. The
needles in the base of his skull pierced through the bone, almost imperceptibly. He would have barely felt them.
But once we started dialling up the pain receptors, once we started sending his brain the message that every single one of his nerve endings was individually being ripped, torn out and shredded, but we denied him the ability to pass out through pain... then, he talked.
It reminded me of watching my brother go through the same techniques. He had fallen in with the enemy, fallen in with the movement. They had seduced him, and he had begun to speak out against the government. He began to speak out about security being a sham. He was arrested. He fought. I had to watch in Base Station Q while he was injected. I had to watch while he screamed. Even though I knew it was not torture, it was still difficult to watch. And then, because of his confessions, he was executed.
The same method. The same chair. The same machine to engineer the injections into the back of the skull. Except this time, cutting off the brain. Painlessly. Simply. He was scared, but it lasted seconds.
He told me he was sorry. He told me that he had to fight. That I was wrong. I remembered us as children, and these are the memories I have tried to cling to the most.
But this was not my brother. This was another traitor, another person who hated us. He had arranged numerous crimes in cooperation with her, and if we could get her, that would lead us to the rest.
It was the biggest break we’d ever had.
He became confused as a result of the injections, and couldn’t give us the exact location, but we knew that it would be in one of a number of safety deposit boxes in a major bank. There were thousands of them.
This would take time, but the evidence would be there. That note would be the key.
There was no need for contamination control. The scanners would simply remove my DNA from the equation, focus on her DNA and then send the message out to the rest of the scanners across the city. Once we had it, it would take seconds, and then we would have our trail to find her.
When I found the note, my hands shook. I read it before I scanned it.
It wasn’t for him. It was for me.
“Hello.
When was the last time you read a letter? I suspect it has been a long time. Savour it. Enjoy it. Feel the paper in your hands and be aware that this is how we have communicated as a species for centuries.
Are you a detective? Or a soldier? Whoever you are, you now hold my life in your hands. Once you scan this, I will be easy to find. And once I am found, I will be easy to interrogate. And once I have been interrogated, I will be easy to kill.
So please, before you do, take a moment to question.
Have you lost someone close to you? We all have now. Due to the way we govern ourselves now, we all have lost someone because they disagreed. Because they wanted to be free rather than be safe.
We have not killed anyone. We have not hurt anyone. We have only tried to be free.
We spread messages. We ask questions. This is all we can do.
We are made complicit in the murders of those we love. We are made to watch. Made to testify against them, so that even while we hate ourselves and mourn them, we are controlled. Disagreement is not a crime. Freedom is not a crime. But we have made them so.
But anything we can make, we can change. Anything we can create, we can destroy.
You hold this note in your hands. You can use it to kill me.
Or you can use it to make your own choice.
You could burn this note.
You could be free as well.
X.”
I looked around me. My heart was racing, and I could feel sweat trickling down the back of my neck.
I had a lighter in my pocket. A privilege I am afforded. A sign of status. The ability to create fire.
Something we deny many people.
It felt heavy in my hand.
Title: BASE STATION Q
Line: "If, for any reason, I do not respond I'll leave a note."
Theme: "Everything we touch gets our DNA, Litter is now traceable to the owner"
And here was my story.
BASE STATION Q
I saw him break.
He tried his best to withold the information, but our heightened interrogation techniques are essentially impossible to stand for long. They're physically harmless, as they only involve a series of injections to the base of the skull to allow us to reroute their pain receptors and control them. The agony that they feel is strictly illusion.
We do not torture. We create the illusion of torture. We are humane.
But when we find out that one of the higher-ups in the movement has left some physical evidence somewhere, we have to find out where that is. Our security depends on it.
We had been monitoring his communications for some time. We believe him to be mid-level, but based on the tone of the conversations, we believed that he had affection for her. Maybe was even in love with her.
She is very clever. She communicates with her network almost entirely virtually, and then using every level of encryption and re-routing that is possible, and a few that some of our technicians claim are impossible. She's like smoke, twisting through every attempt to find her.
If we have DNA evidence, no matter how small, we can track someone. The entire city is monitored.
It started in the days of closed circuit television, but as scanners became more sensitive, we ended up being able to track and trace information far more carefully. Crime dropped quickly when this happened, because all it took was the slightest touch of something, in a way that allowed us to identify the DNA, and then...
Then we scan the entire city for skin particles. You leave them everywhere, whether by touching something or the way they just slough off your skin. Sometimes the breeze scatters them, but it doesn’t matter. We just find the highest occurrence locations, and we have a nice, simple, easy-to- follow trail.
But we need something that we know they’ve touched.
So when she asked him to go to 'the usual place' to pick up contraband, and then respond with confirmation, she signed off with something she'd never said before.
"If, for any reason, I do not respond, I'll leave a note."
When she then didn’t respond, that changed everything.
A note. An old fashioned, honest-to-goodness note. Ink on paper. Actual physical paper. That she would have had to have touched at some point. And because of the way that it was said, he must have known where that note would be left.
And so we interrogated him, and when that didn’t work, we moved to enhanced interrogation. The
needles in the base of his skull pierced through the bone, almost imperceptibly. He would have barely felt them.
But once we started dialling up the pain receptors, once we started sending his brain the message that every single one of his nerve endings was individually being ripped, torn out and shredded, but we denied him the ability to pass out through pain... then, he talked.
It reminded me of watching my brother go through the same techniques. He had fallen in with the enemy, fallen in with the movement. They had seduced him, and he had begun to speak out against the government. He began to speak out about security being a sham. He was arrested. He fought. I had to watch in Base Station Q while he was injected. I had to watch while he screamed. Even though I knew it was not torture, it was still difficult to watch. And then, because of his confessions, he was executed.
The same method. The same chair. The same machine to engineer the injections into the back of the skull. Except this time, cutting off the brain. Painlessly. Simply. He was scared, but it lasted seconds.
He told me he was sorry. He told me that he had to fight. That I was wrong. I remembered us as children, and these are the memories I have tried to cling to the most.
But this was not my brother. This was another traitor, another person who hated us. He had arranged numerous crimes in cooperation with her, and if we could get her, that would lead us to the rest.
It was the biggest break we’d ever had.
He became confused as a result of the injections, and couldn’t give us the exact location, but we knew that it would be in one of a number of safety deposit boxes in a major bank. There were thousands of them.
This would take time, but the evidence would be there. That note would be the key.
There was no need for contamination control. The scanners would simply remove my DNA from the equation, focus on her DNA and then send the message out to the rest of the scanners across the city. Once we had it, it would take seconds, and then we would have our trail to find her.
When I found the note, my hands shook. I read it before I scanned it.
It wasn’t for him. It was for me.
“Hello.
When was the last time you read a letter? I suspect it has been a long time. Savour it. Enjoy it. Feel the paper in your hands and be aware that this is how we have communicated as a species for centuries.
Are you a detective? Or a soldier? Whoever you are, you now hold my life in your hands. Once you scan this, I will be easy to find. And once I am found, I will be easy to interrogate. And once I have been interrogated, I will be easy to kill.
So please, before you do, take a moment to question.
Have you lost someone close to you? We all have now. Due to the way we govern ourselves now, we all have lost someone because they disagreed. Because they wanted to be free rather than be safe.
We have not killed anyone. We have not hurt anyone. We have only tried to be free.
We spread messages. We ask questions. This is all we can do.
We are made complicit in the murders of those we love. We are made to watch. Made to testify against them, so that even while we hate ourselves and mourn them, we are controlled. Disagreement is not a crime. Freedom is not a crime. But we have made them so.
But anything we can make, we can change. Anything we can create, we can destroy.
You hold this note in your hands. You can use it to kill me.
Or you can use it to make your own choice.
You could burn this note.
You could be free as well.
X.”
I looked around me. My heart was racing, and I could feel sweat trickling down the back of my neck.
I had a lighter in my pocket. A privilege I am afforded. A sign of status. The ability to create fire.
Something we deny many people.
It felt heavy in my hand.
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