Private Dancer

Before the advent of the “megapixel” camera when you had to wait 3 weeks for photos that the processing lab stuck little labels over. Before Flickr, Photobucket and Photostream two ways to share photo’s were. The Photo Album or the Slide Show. The only way to express a “like” in such arenas was to open your mouth and say “I like that one.” Voice activated before the X-Box was a twinkle in Windows 3.1’s eye.

Now we publish online. I am writing this piece to be published online, making it accessible to everyone with some type of internet connection. I publish other things too, I have a Gmail account, iCloud, Dropbox, Box.net, Yahoo. I am as online as you can be without involving Satan’s spawn itself Facebook.

Government spies enlisting the assistance of all tech’s major players has hit the news recently. It’s caused what can only be described as a kafuffle. All emails, blogs, pictures of your kids, pictures of the things you used to get those kids are apparently fair game for Mr FBI without your consent or knowledge .

Consent is a funny thing, Every email account, website or photo sharing service you sign up for has terms and conditions. Terms and Conditions that no-one ever reads. So chances are a high percentage of people (myself included) have consented to great deal of things we are unaware of. Granted letting the Government or anyone else look at your stuff probably wasn’t on the list.

Knowledge. You won’t know that anyone has looked at anything you put online. But you must be aware that they might. Even if you just look at human curiosity. If you worked at Flickr and saw a user account from MassiveNorks69, it’s only natural to want to take a sneaky peak. Google and the rest use your email to target advertising or have in the past.

The only way to keep your data safe from prying eyes. Don’t go online. Don’t phone anyone either. Don’t have a bank account, buy everything with cash. Not really practical. So what can we do?

Nothing. The old adage of if you have done nothing wrong you will have nothing to hide applies. I am not one of the tin foil hat brigade, but I’m not stupid enough to assume big companies and governments will respect the sanctity on my online life. That is the price we pay for the convenience of “Likes” “Re-tweets” and “Followers” So Hi there Mr FBI Man…. (I thought they were all shaped like that)

Poem: Rebel

Sex On Wheels (Channel 4)

Sex, now here’s a post that will get me lots of hits. (Hello disappointed people looking for porn.) It’s a very powerful thing. Everyone likes it anyone who disagrees with that is lying. It’s a base urge, we must procreate otherwise humanity will die out, we were built to like it. Although where liking dressing up as an Adult Baby comes in to saving humanity I’m not quite sure. But each to their own.

Sex is a surefire ratings winner for TV. Fictional Sex, “Sex and the City”, “Girls” and “Californication” all have strong sexual content and all are ratings winners. Reality sex also sells, “The Sex Clinic”, “The Joy of Teen Sex”, and “The Sex Inspectors” to name but a few. Step forward (or rather roll forward) “Sex on Wheels” a documentary point and laugher that aired yesterday on Channel 4 in the UK. This followed the sex lives (or lack of them in some cases) of a few disabled people.

Disabled people like to fuck too. Wow who knew!

All of the people featured I have no doubt are real people living independent lives. It is difficult to comment on the show without judging them. It would be interesting to see their real responses to the show now it has been shown, if they feel the edit portrayed them in a favourable light.

As with all “documentaries” it would seem these days there is no room for subtlety. People going about their lives telling their real stories. Therefore it would seem Channel 4 (edit aside) chose their participants for this documentary in the same way they would choose housemates for Big Brother. So with a sweeping a few sweeping generalisations we have our cast:-

• The Nympho: Sexually active and adventurous but, she says wants to “settle down”. She has a nice rack and is only in her early twenties and someone settling down makes boring TV so she will be shown constantly flirting.
• Reformed Jack the Lad: Alpha Male. Spends all of the time talking about his penis, until the spiritual sex therapy (Sham Science) lets him find himself.
• You are a Wannabe and everyone is laughing at you: Wants to be a porn star because he “likes sex” Gets to visit a porn set like a little boy who wrote in to Jim’ll Fix It “Dear Nonce, Please can you fix it for me…”
• The peoples Champion: For every panto villain there needs to be a hero. A good guy, a guy which we are all routing for. He is depicted as the most Normal of the ensemble, hell he even loves his mum and takes good care of animals. What a nice guy.

Remember this is not what I feel the people are actually like. Just how I feel how they were depicted. I haven’t mentioned their disabilities at this point because they are largely irrelevant. All of them are in wheelchairs bar the peoples champion (because he’s gotta look normal kids), Jack the Lad because of accident which has limited his sex life, the others are all disabled from birth.

This was a chance for the world to see how disabled people fuck or try to fuck. Disabled people in general are not viewed in a sexual way, so depicting them as sexually active showing a “healthy” level of desire would in itself made for a eye opening documentary for most people. However the editorial decision to show extremes, like the injured guy masturbating trying to gain an erection (yes really) and to allow the patronising treatment of the Wannabe Pornstar by everyone only serves to give something else for people to laugh at. If you don’t believe me search twitter for #sexonwheels.

Fiction: Morning Tea

This is my third Absolute Write Forum inspired piece. The theme for this month is dialogue only. With an option of including something to do with “Wrong Place, Right Time.” If you enjoy this dialogue only story I have written one other here. Also as usual please check out the other efforts from those participating in the Blog Chain.

---

“Jules.. Wake up”
“Urgh. Go away”
“C’mon now. Busy day. We’ve slept in long enough.”
“Ten more minutes”
“Julia. Up now.”
“Don’t you Julia me. Five more minutes then. Go on please. I am sleeping for two now.”
“Oh yes I can see who’s gonna be warming baby formula at 5am”
“Me! I won’t have been to bed yet.”
“Enough now. You don’t want to be late for your appointment.”
“I have ages yet hun, you worry too much.”
“I don’t want you to be running around getting stressed..”
“Bad for the baby.. I know you have said it before. Christ Jamie you nearly said it at conception.”
“I did not! Besides its only out of love”
“Come here soppy knickers!”
“No time for cuddles now. Up!!”
“Ok ok. Pass me that shirt will you?”
“This one?”
“No that’s yours.”
“This blue one?”
“Thanks… Is that the kettle I hear boiling?”
“I’m making tea. I know how you like it.”
“I thought I wasn’t allowed caffeine. ‘Not calling the baby Twinings’ you said.”
“It’s Red Bush.”
“Urgh I hate red bush.”
“Not what you said before.”
“Dirty mind. This one time in college, but seriously the tea is foul. Especially when you are on the good stuff.”
“I’m having Red Bush too. Only.. Only fair.”
“Only? Only I wouldn’t drink that if I didn’t have to”
“That’s how much I love you.”
“Oh my god. You are so full of crap. I bet we just ran out of the other ones.”
“Just hurry up and get ready will you. I’ve got something I need to tell you.”
“Oh intriguing. Tolls gone up in the car park again.”
“You make me sound so boring.”
“But you are! You remember the first thing you said to me?”
“I think it was.. What time is the next train?”
“No, you said. ‘St Johns Wood is the only underground train station name not to contain the letters from the word mackerel.’ “
“You were looking at a tube map. And it worked didn’t it. Here we are three years on, starting a family.”
“I always find that funny.”
“What?”
“One child and you call it a family”
“Would you like more than one?”
“Yeah, why not.”
“That’s great news!!”
“That’s too enthusiastic for this time in the morning. Do you think I’ve got more than one in here? Should I not bother with the ultrasound!”
“No. I mean yes of course you should. It’s great that you want more kids.”
“Why the sudden change of heart? I had to twist your arm to have this one.”
“I dunno Jules I was worried about the cost of the treatment. I guess.”
“And now you aren’t?”
“That’s kind of what I had to talk to you about.”
“Oh good. Jamie brought the winning lotto ticket.”
“No.”
“Damn I’ll cancel the down payment on the yacht.”
“Jules.”
“Yes, come on spit it out.”
“I’m pregnant too”
“What? How?”
“Wrong place, right time?”

---

If you liked that please check out my other fictional efforts here. Also please check out the other dialogue only pieces from my friends at Absolute Write.

orion_mk3 - 
http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com
 (link to post)
Ralph Pines - 
http://ralfast.wordpress.com/
 (link to post)
articshark - 
http://www.drslaten.com/blog
 (link to post)
Sudo_One - 
http://sudoone.wordpress.com/
 You Are HERE!
Nissie - 
http://www.rinchupeco.com/
 (link to post)
Angyl78 - 
http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/
 (link to post)
Lady Cat - 
http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca/
 (link to post)
U2Girl - 
http://ancatdubh.org/
 (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes - 
http://www.taraquan.com/
 (link to post)
SuzanneSeese - 
http://www.viewofsue.blogspot.com/
 (link to post)
LanaK - 
http://lanaketrick.blogspot.com/
 (link to post)
in_one - 
http://quirkythomas.blogspot.com/
 (link to post)

…..Let Me Fetch My “Hung Like a Field Mouse” T-Shirt

I’m off out.

I’m out on the town and looking for a good time, a few beers (for dutch courage) and then, game face on. Watch out ladies here I come. I have on my smart jeans, I’ve showered, I am sex on legs. Oh I didn’t mention my shirt.. (except in big letters in the title) Yes it’s a sign post.. highlighting my urrm short comings. I figure it’s best to let people know, up front. I got this shirt in a set.

• “Will touch up your friend when drunk.”
• “Mood Swings”
• “No sense of Humour”
• “Racist”

I think they are great. Unfortunately, not only am I drawing a blank with the ladies but I have been taken the piss out of numerous times and beaten up. I can’t think why..

I’m not crashing I have Windows

OK, so who guessed that was bullshit. Hopefully all of you.

Imagine it though. Going out with a shirt declaring your shortcomings, personality defects or negative elements of your past. Whilst they could be informative, to the other clubbers or people in the pub, a bit like a penicillin allergy pendant, at best it’s likely to make people avoid you, at worst it might make you a target for emotional and physical abuse.

That is what is suggested very frequently to young disabled people. Wear a shirt or display a card proudly embossed with details of their disability. Now in a perfect world, this would be great. It would ensure that folks like me get doors held open, or people coping with high levels of pain will get cut a bit of slack when they shout at the checkout girl in Morrisons.

In reality what happens is that the disabled persons self esteem is damaged, they are actively encouraging disabled people to become the disability, instead of being a person, who happens to be disabled. Additionally the t-shirts are an invite for the bastards of the world to be horrible, because they are not even getting a chance to see a person. They see a label.

Personally I want people to find out more details about my disability the same way they would find out about my hatred of X-Factor and love of World Cinema (no not porn.. well that too) by communicating with me. If communication is not possible via the usual methods I’d still want people to want to find out about me, not read all about it.

You see, final reason why this doesn’t work. (promise) Even people with exactly the same disabilities can be affected by them in vastly different ways. For example I have a friend who’s speech is affected, mine is not. So if we both had a card saying “Cerebral Palsy: My speech is unclear” it would be wrong for one of us. The signs/shirts being offered are mass made remember.

I am not cerebral palsy, it is something that affects my life. Just like taxes, football and masturbation. I don’t wear a shirt telling people I’m a wanker… people have to get to know me (for at least five minutes) first.

Dave Allen

BBC 2. Home of Top Gear and Never Mind the Buzzcocks. Showed something awesome tonight, very good. If you missed it or have not heard of it’s subject matter. Stop reading this, go seek it out now. BBC 2 showed, Dave Allen: God’s Own Comedian.

Dave Allen is without a doubt my favourite comedian, yes I will talk of Hicks (who even has the honour of adorning this page) I will talk of the genius of Pryor. But Dave Allen, the first TV comic to make a young Sudo laugh. In 1990 I was 10, my Mum (she of Ed McBain influence) would tell me about Dave Allen. I was allowed to sit up late, probably about 10:30pm and watch. The Classic theme tune would start and a grey haired man, aged to a 10 yr old, would walk past a backed bar stool to the microphone. He would then begin to talk in a captivating irish tone.

I always wondered why he never sat on the stool. Only later thanks to the wonders of VHS would I find out that Dave used the stool on his earlier shows. I remember my whole family laughing at the stories this one man on his own on stage would tell. Exposing the absurdities of life long before the likes of Michael McIntyre, doing it in such a subtle nature that is nowhere in comedy these days. The pauses, the timing. The anger, the vitriol.

The show the BBC showed tonight was great because I have made every attempt to learn about the work of Dave before I was even a twinkle in my Dad’s eye. Dave hated repeats, so nothing is ever shown. This documentary showed footage of his early break in Australia, which I had never seen. Also featured was Dave’s documentary making which had past me by.

What however prompted me to write this blog piece was this there is a very small segment of this around 52 mins where Dave is being interviewed by Clive James where he says that language (swearing) is emphasis. I have always used this to explain when challenged on my own filthy fucking language, not sure where I got it from. It surprised me, how much of the wisdom of Dave Allen I picked up.

Allen like Hicks, I feel is needed in todays world. In the 8 years since he died the world, religion, politics and every aspect of life needs someone to poke away at it more than ever. Make the common helpless man feel sane for at least half an hour a week.

Thanks for reading and…. may your god go with you.

Fiction: (April) Spring, Summer and Wednesdays

This is part of Absolute Write Blog Chain for April. The theme this month is “April Fool”. I got such great feedback last time I fear this is gonna be that “difficult second album.”

Sit back and try to enjoy… (Then visit the other blog chain gangers)

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“April fool” she shouted.

And just like that April’s world caved in.

Today was her birthday, she was 19. Earlier her best friend Robert had given her a badge which announced “Birthday Girl” to the world. He pinned it upon her t-shirt. Being careful not to pierce her ivory skin. He smiled, admiring his own dexterity. She’d known him since she was five years old. Since he’d fallen off the jungle gym into her path. The shock of the fall and the shooting pain running through his grazed knees had caused his eyes to well up with tears.

April’s eyes now reflected that memory.

She thought of long hot summers, where there was no school. She and Robert would climb trees together despite being told by her mother not to. They made lemonade on the the warmest day of the year. They laughed and ran in the fields, tripping each other and falling down in the soft grass. Robert had made her promise to be friends for life.

April now wondered what she’d do with her life. As she sat in dark isolation.

She thought of how dark it had been three years ago, when she met her first proper boyfriend Mark. She had gone to the local store and the sky threw down a heavy spring shower. Mark was sheltering under a nearby tree. He called out to her. They stayed under that tree long after the rain had stopped. Talking and laughing. April had felt so close to him. She kissed him on the cheek and bid him goodnight. The next day she excitedly told Robert all about the spring showers. He had called Mark a “Jerk.” and stormed off.

From where April was in the dark she could her distant voices. Were they looking for her, or just fooling around in the spirit of the day.

Robert had been the first to offer words of comfort when she had learned that Mark had been cheating on her. He’d been sleeping with an older woman every Wednesday afternoon for the best part of 6 months. Not once did Robert say “I told you so.” He was a true friend. She had rested her head on his shoulder.

She now rested her head in her hands. Tears streaming down, splashing off of the birthday girl badge. Robert had always such great care of her. April didn’t know why she pushed him. Yelling “April Fool!” It wasn’t even an April fools joke, it was a push.

A little push like when they were kids. He’d stumble, they’d laugh. April fool. A push, a joke.

“April fool” the words spun round and round in her head.

She saw Robert fall backwards into the road. His head hit the ground.

April fool.

The driver of the car slammed on the brakes. Robert disappeared under the screeching tyres.

April fool ran. Ran to isolation, to let the darkness forgive her.

---

If you liked that please feel free to read my other fictional pieces here. They serve only to make the other bloggers on this chain look fantastic by comparison. Take a look…

orion_mk3 - 
http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com
 (link to post) 
Ralph Pines - 
http://ralfast.wordpress.com
 (link to post)
Angyl78 - 
http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/
 (link to post)
Araenvo - 
http://www.simonpclark.com/
 (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes - 
http://www.taraquan.com/
 (link to post)
Lady Cat - 
http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca/
 (link to post)
LanaK - 
http://lanaketrick.blogspot.com/
 (link to post)
Lyra Jean - 
http://beyondtourism.wordpress.com/
 (link to post)
Sudo_One - 
http://sudoone.wordpress.com/
 Me!
articshark - 
http://www.drslaten.com/blog
 (link to post)

Justice for the 96…. but no respect

15th April 1989, Sheffield England. FA Cup Semi Final day. Liverpool vs Nottingham Forest. All that should have been lost that day was the hope of an FA Cup Final place. As it was it was a day that caused 96 people to lose their lives. It has been a long fight for the fans of Liverpool Football Club to clear the names of their fallen, who were blamed for the Hillsborough disaster. A fight which continues some 24 years on.

Today we played Liverpool at the Madejski Stadium. (0-0 Final Score) We observed a minute silence for the 96 who lost their lives at Hillsborough. I thought although time has moved on, the game that we share and the love for our respective clubs shall forever remain. Thankfully there are now safety regulations in place that should prevent such a terrible disaster occurring again. All seater stadiums, Police surveillance, prohibited items. Fireworks and flares for example are not allowed, by stadium rules. Fans found with such items could face a football banning order (stopping them attending any match anywhere in the UK) or even prison.

So “Justice for the 96” sang the Liverpool end. Rightly so.

“Lets all do the conga, cos Maggie is no longer.” OK Macabre but I can see why Liverpool fans might rejoice in the death of a woman who presided over a botched enquiry into the death of their loved ones. Football humour has always been dark.

However. At kick off, a certain section of Liverpool fans let off a huge red smoke flare. Then at various points during the first half let off fireworks. Both prohibited by stadium rules, and endangering the wellbeing of others in their end. Police did nothing as far as I saw, there were no loud bangs in the second half so I assume either the Police did something quietly at half time or simply that there were no more fireworks to be set off.

There are two sets of double standards here as far as I can see. Firstly, if Reading fans even as much as stand up during the game they are told instantly by stewards to sit. Liverpool fans stood throughout. If a Reading fan took a flare into a away ground. They would be looking at a night in a cell. Apparently it is ok for Liverpool fans.

The second set of double standards is the issue I have most problem getting my head around. 96 people died, but they did not die in vein. Because of those people we now have a better game to see, in better equipped and safer venues. A game which can be enjoyed by all, safe in the knowledge that for 99% of the time the only thing that will be hurt at football is pride.

99% because there is always that 1% of people. Morons who don’t have a thought in their head. Don’t sing of Justice for those killed at a football match, whilst standing, running up and down the stands without a care for those around you. Don’t sing of Justice and light a flare, a flare which induce an asthma attack and kill someone. Don’t sing of Justice and let off a firework which could explode and kill one more of your own.

I’m sure those 96 would be proud.

 

Red

As the weather has been somewhat depressing. In April (thanks world) I thought I’d write about something that cheers me up. Something that has been a bit of an obsession since my fascination started aged 7 with Cilla Black. From Cilla to Kirsty MacColl to Karen Gillan. The obsession. The Redhead.

This has been exasperated by the fiction of Ed McBain who featured pert breasted redheaded maidens in almost every novel. The Flintstones with Wilma, Family Guy with Lois, Daphne on Scooby Doo, hell even Princess Fiona in Shrek. Animators would appear to have a bigger obsession than me.

I don’t really know what it is, is sensitivity to UV a turn on. I hope not. Maybe I like the challenge, less than 2% of the worlds population is currently crimson topped. So I have the odds stacked against me if this was my only criteria for finding a mate. That and my good looks, general good health, wit and mastery of speeling and grammar”

Maybe I like the fact that the redhead stands out, without trying, in most cases. As do I. OK now I do due to my “Jesus/Hobo tribute combo” but before I was beardy I was a pretty un-remarkable looking guy. The sticks make you stand out. People stand back, the old ones I had made a clicking noise on the floor which made it impossible to stalk anyone (Redhead or otherwise) I am always even for only fleeting seconds, centre of attention.

I do also have a love of “different” redhead dye jobs are in fashion now. But as a child of 80’s I come from a time where being red was covered up. So it took a brave girl or boy to buck the trend and go au natural. A quality which I admire, a big middle finger up to convention, what is expected. I will do what I want. In the 80’s/90’s a natural redhead was (even if not by nature) feisty. I have always liked feisty.

There are a good few redheaded bloggers out there. A few which I have found and followed due to me searching “Redhead” in the wordpress reader, such is my obsession. Somebody help me….

Poem: The Snitch

 

The snitch is oh so eager,
To report to Miss,
So he’ll get a house point,
Or even steal a kiss.
Not on the lips,

Snitch working the way,
To the top of the class,
By Kissing some butt
Being a pain in the arse,

If we were still at school,
His point I could almost see,
But this is an working office,
And I’m almost thirty three,