Pride and… Prejudice?

Okay, so this is late (a week late, give or take a few hours), but a lack of commitment seems to be a theme of this blog, so, here is my interpritation of Brighton’s annual celebration of all things liberated and condemned by the Catholic church, Gay Pride.I have to confess, this was the first year I had fully taken part in the celebrations (no deep rooted homophobia here… Even though I do shudder every time  I go into a locker room or see a bottle of shampoo after that ‘Incident’ with the Janitor back at Blatch *dies inwardly*. Normally, I’ve either been away, have had no one to go with or have slept in too late and missed the parade.), but this time I went with a large group of my friends from secondary school who are largely a cross section of society… Well, the psychologically unstable quarter of society, anyway. I knew from the get go that this would be interesting if nothing else.

The parade was fun, with a competition created by my friends to get as many high fives as possible. Much confused gawping was done at the Gay Conservatives float, which seemed to be rather like a float advertising the National Socialist Party of Israel, but I’m sure some self depricating gays must exist, the sort to have been demanding that their parents punish them severely for their lifestyle choice, even though they’re really not all that bothered. Anyway, we actually managed to join the parade, which was pretty exciting, even though I managed to cause several near stoppages thanks to my legs deciding to give way at random intevals.

Once the parade reached it’s destination, me and my droogies stopped off momentarily to buy some ridiculously overpriced Vodka Jelly (An interesting choice on the part of the caterers to mix a drink that was commonly consumed throughout history by homocidal royalty and Communists with a item of food eaten at children’s birthday parties… Look out for Caviar flavoured Jolly Ranchers in all good sweet shops in the upcoming months), an act that left me feeling slightly ripped off considering the amount of vodka inside them was negligable. Shortly afterwards, we made for the party as a whole (which was being held, as usual, in Preston Park).

It was here that I attended my first rave, an experience not recommended for those with any or all of the following:

- Anger management problems

- Asperger’s syndrome

- A rabid pet badger inside a briefcase that’s made of shredded paper.

Having all three of these, I didn’t feel too optimistic. However, I actually found the rhymic bouncing of sweaty homosexual men rather pleasing. THERE I SAID IT! PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT RESPECTABLE, MIDDLE CLASS, ANGLO SAXON UPBRINGING! Several people tried to remove my clothes too, which I’m rather chuffed about (should I be?).

Unfortunately, I had to retreat soon as I felt I was about to pass out (clearly the combined effect of large overhead lights, pumping techno, Grolsch and dancing was a little dehydrating. Never would have thought it.)

The strangest thing is that the entire event, despite being a lot of fun, had this underlying, darker aspect to it. This could just be me being characteristically neurotic, but there was definitely something afoot (especially later on, when the young ‘ins had gone home). For example, the event was one big example of how drinking has this country in it’s grasp (To be fair, I’m no Elliot Ness, I was drinking too, albeit in stronger moderation), once incident I can recall was a man, lying in the fetal position, vomiting on the ground in front of him, then falling into his own oral expulsion and… How do I put this nicely? Lapping…

Now, I’ve lost more than a few brain cells to the wares of Bacchus, and by no means am I trying to stop people having a good time by cracking the whip of my puritan forefathers and telling them they’re destined for an afterlife spent cooking in Fire and Brimstone if they over indulge, but I think we can all agree that being in such a state you mistake your own vomit for a tasty snack is a little on the extreme side of things.

This is only one example, but one of the group of friends I went out with was approached by a woman selling what appeared to be genuine crack cocaine. As I said though, maybe this is just me worrying too much, and I don’t want to sour what was otherwise a pleasant day out with endless, blind panic and fear mongering. If people wanted that they’d watch the news…

However, the whole concept of gay pride does bring a debate to mind, which is this: Is having a “gay” pride really ethnical? By this, I don’t mean to say that our thriving gay community should be shrugged off or persecuted, far from it. What I mean is, should our sexuality be so evident that we have to celebrate it in order to justify it? Shouldn’t our sexuality just be a part of our everyday lives, not something to scream out about? A festival named “Straight pride” would probably be condemned as homophobic, and it probably would be, but wouldn’t it in essence be the same thing? Perhaps I am over analyzing, perhaps gay pride is really just an excuse for misguided liberal busybodies like me to dance like imbeciles and then go home and blog about it afterwards while the genuine gay people look on awkwardly, trying to avoid the man who is eating his own regurgitation.

I should point out now that this isn’t necessarily my opinion, it is merely a train of thought that I would like to bring to the table. As a person with numerous gay and bisexual friends (sorry to use the old ‘Many of my best friends are *insert minority*” chestnut), it dawns on me that I should ask them for their opinion… Well, I have a homework task. What about you, dear reader? What is your opinion on the celebration of sexuality?

I’m sure that there was more I was meant to say, but it’s late and I can barely keep my eyes open.

Keep on truckin,

- Thomas Harrison

P.S. This post is somehow stuck on Times New Roman… It’s like being in a universe controlled by the Liberal Democrats…

P.P.S. Sorry if this blog made very little sense, as I stated previously I’m really tired.

End of an Era… Sort of…

Hello noble readers.So, today was the last day of term for normal lessons at my first year in BHASVIC. It’s certainly been a rollercoaster. Thankfully, a largely positive one. So, here are my opinions on the year. First of all, the institution itself is far superior to any other I have been to. It’s nice to finally find an educational establishment that treats it’s students like responsible, intelligent adults, not a bizarre mixture of toddlers, convicts and concentration camp detainees. I have a great deal more respect for figures in authority if they don’t have a stuck up god complex, and certain teachers at my previous school who will remain nameless for the simple reason that various law enforcement agencies are monitering my computer and will doubtless suspect me of firebombings could learn a lot from the BHASVIC staff.

To expand on my first point, I think one of BHASVIC’s greatest assets is it’s people. I can say without a hint of exaggeration that I met more fantastic people in my first year at BHASVIC than I have at any other point in my life, this is not, of course, to belittle my other friends in any way. But the amount of awesome people at BHASVIC is staggering.

Another advantage is the lesson structure, the college feels like a University, not a school which, after 5+ years of day in, day out slow grinding education with nicotine addicted teachers that seemed perminently suicidal is a huge blessing. To reitorate my previous point, BHASVIC students are treated like adults.

I won’t bore you with mindless praise, even though I could go on for hours, but i will devote some of this entry to the people that made my BHASVIC year even better. First of all, all of my teachers:

Val: My tutor, who helped so much during this year it’s almost frightening.

Andy: The best, and I’m not just saying that because he’s the only one of them who reads my blog… Also, as a brief personal note, I’d like to thank Andy for running the awesome creative writing group, and for being an amazing teacher

Darren: His flaired cordoroys are known for miles around.

Keith: What can I say? His mad Smart board tapping skillz and snappy political insight into the Vietnam war (it ended up being ‘a bit shit’) always brightened my day.

Karen: Great tutor and wonderful influence, even if she was almost worryingly knowledgeable at times.

James: To coincide with James’ attitude throughout the year, my answer will not make sense: RAWR RAWR GRUBBA GRUBBA GRUUUUUUBAAAA SNACK ARGH RAWR.

Cath: Another great teacher, and we studied Action/Adventure films, so I’m happy.

The people at LS: For repeatedly telling me to fill in my task sheet, which I’m sure was for the best, and also for being present in all of my lessons to give help and support (Go Sue!)

How could I forget the students? Well, quite easily actually, but that’s because of my recent loss of short term memory. These are my fellow friends, Romans and countrymen that have helped make the three-month-long rain falls seem fun and bearable. Much like the teachers above them, this is in no order at all, and includes people that aren’t actually from the college. If you’ve been left out, I assure you it’s not deliberate, I’m just being dopey.

Charles: He garners a mention due to his support during tutor sessions and out of lessons, and also because he’s my oldest friend and I feel the need to constantly justify my relationships *self medicates*.

Emma: Despite not being a BHASVIC student, she helped me more than I can remember, so ta, if it wasn’t horribly clichéd, I’d use the term “Kindred spirit” – Bollocks, I just did.

Hannah: At the very top tier of the people I met at my year at BHASVIC, Hannah has been nothing but a pleasure to know, and made Media, Film and the times in between a downright joy. I offer my most sincere thanks, and add this: “Keithtianity shall prosper!”

Lucy: For being in both my film studies and Creative Writing classes, and for generally being a voice of mediated sanity in a world of drudgery.

Jamie, Alex Fry, Kai, Patrick, Owen and the others that I’d like to name but can’t due to space constraints: Even though almost none of you actually GO to BHASVIC (except Owen, who starts next year), thanks for being there for me with your individual blends of humor.

Dan, and those I know over the internet: Again, even though you live in different cities, countries and even continents, I would like to thank you all for your support.

Alex Mills, Josie, and my film studies class: Never have I encountered such a spectrum of open minds and clear thinkers. I’m proud to have “served” with such a wonderful class of youths who aren’t afraid to speak their minds.

Alex Roycroft: My comrade at arms (why am I using so much military terminology?) throughout English. A great person to know generally, his memory regarding Much Ado About Nothing quotes is astounding.

My English class: I was very lucky to be in such a varied group for English, full of friendly faces (when did this become a White Collar, middle management leaving speech?), it was a pleasure.

My Media class: It was great to be anchored in place next to such fine fellows and fellowesses to experience the educational hedge maze that was James.

My form: For being generally great… and putting up with Anthony screaming Homophobic slurs in my ears, and for restraining me when I attack Anthony with large pieces of wood, and… Well, you get the idea.

Creative Writing group: A set of minds far superior to my own, I am truly in awe. Please keep doing what you do best (oh, and Morgan likes prog rock, which makes him an inspiration to us all). Caitlin, even though I was only in the group with you for a comparatively short amount of time, I found your social insight fascinating. Thank you all.

Finally, I would like to thank everyone once more (because I’m THAT nice) as well as those I’ve forgotten (because I’m THAT forgetful). With that, I shall finish by saying this: I hope that year two of BHASVIC is every bit as positive and eventful as this one has been.

It has occurred to me that this blog is so full of praise it almost feels like a suicide note… it’s not, by the way… *Shifty eyes*.

- Tom

HAHAHA! It’s funny cuz it’s employment…

This is related to a task we were set in the Creative Writing class, to create a bizarre, satirical piece of journalism in the style of The Guardian’s George Saunders. Here’s mine, and yes, it makes absolutely no sense, I believe that’s the point:

“What jobs are funny?” I hear you scream at an inanimate object that vaguely resembles my face. I’m over here, you poltroon. There. That’s better. A good example of of a funny job is, contrary to the opinions of millions of of bed wetting children worldwide, a clown. Not because they are entertaining people in themselves, most of them are serial killers, but because the admiration of them (and what they do) is so post modern they become instantly hilarious. If a clown is covered in bees, however, they are less funny, because bees are dying out, and death is not funny. Unless of course it involves teddy bear gang bangers kicking someone in the gonads until they expire.

Many people think that pimps are funny, however this is bitterly untrue. Pimps are vile, often violent criminals that objectify women and perpetuate an unforgiving sex trade. However, they do wear wonderful hats, often adorned with brightly coloured feathers, giving them the appearance of ghetto fabulous peacocks. This is funny. This creates an awkward ethical mexican standoff, broken only when a pimp breaks out of his sinful constraints and becomes a feminist, whilst retaining his hippity, hoppity, blingin’ ass fo styly.

- Thomas Harrison.

Ssssh! The Alien Elvis clones are coming…

Hello all,

It’s amazing what you can find on youtube, and no, I’m not talking about videos of rednecks using all three of their remaining brain cells to figure out how to microwave their housepets or sorority girls stampeding on what little of their egos is left by dancing around half nude on a webcam (although I’m sure these videos provide the noble backbone of the youtube video base). No, I’m talking about the almost limitless supply of youtube videos on the subject of conspiracy theories. These videos range from the semi insightful (e.g. Corruption in high ranking members of the government – Pretty much a fact), to the hilarious (e.g. Evil cyborg aliens possessing Barack Obama in an attempt to gain control of the USA’s nuclear stockpile, that they will then force feed to Jerry Springer in an attempt to create a super mutant talk show host), to the down right scary/reprehensible (ignorant, anti semitic ramblings and ultra nationalism that gives me an immense temptation to build a little fort in my bedroom, adorned with a sign that reads “No stoopid people alowwed”. I don’t care how many hepped up, gun toting morons try to convince me that the Jews are controlling the world from a hidden operations bunker in Tel Aviv – I like Woody Allen, and if Seinfeld is on I’ll watch it, and you better believe that if I want to laugh at David Schwimmer I will go ahead and I will laugh at David Schwimmer, it’s my god given right as a progressive Brightonian, and nothing is going to sway me from that. Where was I? Damn, lost my train of thought… My, this is a long bracket sub-point…)

Now, this leads me to the “bullet point” of this blog, I just wanted to know what my reader’s opinions were on the issue of conspiracy theories. Do you believe in any of them? If so, which ones? Let’s try and get some form of discussion going here.

This is an issue I will be returning to in time, either when the feeling grabs me or when I run out of other material. Yeah, I’m just that edgy and anarchistic when it comes to blogs. I’m like Hunter S Thompson in Hush Puppies…

So please, feel free to discuss.

- Tom

Create a prog-rock band game!

Hello all,

I apologize for my absense, as it turns out, the transition from blog to blog is a tad more difficult than I first predicted. As a filler, I have decided to post the rules to a game I’ve seen around the web. It’s a three step program to creating a Prog Rock band (as the title says), some efforts work better than others, but it’s usually funny. Here’s what you do:

1. Go on www.wikipedia.org and search for a random article. That is your band name.

2. Go on www.wikiquote.org and search for a random quote. That is your debut album. (If it comes up with a page full of quotes, which is probably will, choose an appropriate sounding one. If your quotes are too long, either cut them down or search again – Your call).

3. Go on www.flickr.com/explore/ and search for a photo, this will be your album cover.

Here is my band:

Name: Aegisthus

Debut Album: Knowledge is not a passion from without the mind

Album Art: http://www.flickr.com/photos/13981362@N03/2586302143/

I think we have the potential to go far…

As previously mentioned, this can either be relevant, funny, or ridiculous, it’s all in the luck of the draw. If you manage to create any good ones, please feel free to post them.

Hopefully I’ll have a blog with a little more meat on it’s bones in due time,

- Tom

My first blog!

I decided, due to the atmosphere of Myspace’s blog circuit being made up largely of angry 12 year olds that live in the American Midwest bitching about how “faggy” Stacy in their art class is for not giving them a hand shandy behind Walmart (I’m generalizing, but I’m a blogger, that’s my goal), to create a serious (more or less) blog on a specialized website, whether it will will work or not I don’t know, but hopefully with enough time and effort I can really make something of this.

This will contain not only my usual inane ramblings, comments on life, the universe and everything (and maybe a little bit of pop culture here and there) but also examples of my pieces of creative writing, both fiction and non fiction. Who knows, perhaps in a matter of years this will be a metaphorical marketplace of joy, prosperity and creativity… Okay, now I’m getting delusional.

Whether I sink or swim, I would like to mark this occassion as my first ever blog, and hope that it gets more than a couple of comments from complete strangers that read “u suk” or “go back to commie ville”. Well, we can all dream…

- Thomas “The Skittish Scribe” Harrison (snappy nickname, isn’t it? Ought to sink in a charm with my college pals… Once they’re done beating me senseless.)

P.S. I may post content that has already been on my old blog from time to time as well, what I can I say, I’m a fraud.

P.P.S. I’m (obviously) still new here, so bear with me if I make any mistakes (this website is quite intimidating when you’re behind the scenes).