Venting Session

Homespun have a MySpace page. Tonight I felt the need to comment on it as a virgin *cough* poster to MySpace. The thing about it is that I'm sure that it could yeild some darn fine music, but it is ultimately the realm of indiegirl clones and, upon closer inspection, KT Tunstall's PR company.

Needless to say it brought out the worse in me when I put cursor to comment box:

I don’t like James Blunt, I don’t like girls at gigs who only go with their boyfriends, I don’t like hitting my head on the roof of the cab, I don’t like Wheelchair Car comparison jokes, I don’t like that every man delivers them like they’re the first one to say it to me, I don’t like that they expect me to laugh, I don’t like that anyone expects me to laugh, I don’t like having to have a good time just because entry is only a quid and the DJ plays Build Me Up Buttercup, I don’t like people wearing uni logo sweatshirts in clubs, I don’t like uni logo sweatshirts especially when they are personalised with the vaguely misogynistic nickname no one ever uses printed on the back, I don’t like people that think Charlotte Church seems an ‘ok sort of person’ because OK sort of people deserve to choke on their own mediocrity sooner than appear on chatshows. I don’t like MySpace but more than that I don’t like that I don’t have a greyscale photo with flattering lighting to convince anyone looking at my profile of my quirky good looks when I’m actually ugly as fuck.


But I do like Homespun. Especially A Minute

Love Music, Hate Arsekissing

In which Turtle embraces her inner slightly younger self

I wrote this after reading Lady B's latest on our responsibility as Disabled people. It started out as a direct response but I actually think its a different issue:

I am not much of a timekeeper. I was late for school. A lot. And every day, I would enter the classroom to a flow of sarky remarks from my tutor before I could reach my desk. Now, bad conduct is bad conduct and has consequences. Sarcastic teachers are sarcastic teachers and have egos. I didn't have a problem with being chastised for obvious rule-breaking, I didn't even have a problem with his tone. It was an irritant, not worthy of a blog 5 years on.

Then one day I noticed something. During and after his speech, two or three fellow tardy pupils would invariably slip through the door. They would sit down to nothing more than a few words or a disapproving look. It occurred to me that I was being unfairly targeted. That crip students don't recieve 'special treatment' is a given. What I am suggesting is that can lead to overcompensation. I'm suggesting that now, what I did at the time was turn round and say:

"I'm not the only one late, you know that. You're doing this so you can say 'ooh look i can tell off a cripple how fucking hard am I'"

For every time I was made an example of, for every time I had my unremarkable homework waved in front of the class, for every time I was pulled to the front of the Chronicle photoshoot , I became more convinced that no behavioural expectation - where impressed on Disabled over non-disabled people - was worth adhering to with any more care than anyone else.

For obvious reasons this is a dangerous mindset, you have to take responsibility for your own actions and acknowledge their wider consequences. The fact that we are particularly representative of Disabled People in the street is undeniable. Unpalatable, but undeniable. What I object to is the heightened level of scrutiny, the additional rammifications of rebellion and bad behaviour at a time in life where those two things are supposedly crucial.

I'm not gonna change that. I like it. I apologise for the victim tone, the adolescent whinging and the strong possibility that I misunderstood Lady B's post.

Wristbands, Support Bands and wanton threats of MOR Voodoo activity.

It has come to my attention that the gloriously botoxed Scrubs actor John McGinley is wearing a yellow and blue wristband in the latest series of the hospital sitcom. Who is he supporting? Down Syndrome, according to this webpage . It would be cynical of me to think the webmasters concerned were cashing in on the not-overly-charitable 'wristband trend' among British kids. [Incidentally, does anyone remember Shag Bands? Disarmingly similar, I thought.]

I can only say that from what I can make out, I am green, Sam is green times at least two and if you are as bored as me you can find your condition on the list. Together we truly can make a rainbow. At the moment I make a green blob.

In other news, I'm tired. If Beautiful South support Robbie pissing Williams I will make a Paul Heaton voodoo and burn it. Not all of it, but let's just say that falsetto won't be giving you no trouble no more if you get my drift.

I got 99 problems but an inability to fully control motor function, particularly muscle control and coordination ain't one.

Just while it was in my head, I thought I'd ask if anyone really had room to consider their impairment (and i mean its very existence, not the pain or fatigue that might come with) when they asked themselves 'What could be better about my life'

Not inspired by an Ouch thread. Oh no.

They say that the thing about life is sometimes you have to do

They say that the thing about life is sometimes you have to do things you don't like. Rubbish, that's what the state of Eternal Denial is for. As if taking responsibility for your actions wasn't bad enough, there's added crappiness in the fact that when you do, the result is so small proportionate to the energy expended in anxiety. So small that you feel worse than you did to begin with.

This is me writing to my personal tutor. the tutor i have down as a referee for the council job. Y'know and i'm now telling him i want to go back to uni as well.

Confused? not as confused as me.


Dear Dr Baron,

I emailed you last week, because groupwise crashed I wasn’t sure if it got to you. I’m sorry if this is a repeat email.

I thought I should contact you because I haven’t spoken to anyone from the university since I suspended my course in September. I would like to try and go back to Nottingham this year, I still have to do my Exploring Historiography essay.

I was talking to different people and I can’t remember which member of staff I spoke to about my outstanding work. I think you are my personal tutor for this year though which is why I am emailing you so I can try and organise and see if I can still go back.

Thankyou,


Nicola Dormer



Why did it take me all of a week to sit down and write that.

Valentine's Day W@***r*

So, I'm on the phone to Sam yesterday. Sam that Spawn of Googlespack, Non-Twin and...errr, Lewis Toria's Bloke are all convinced will one day wheel down the aisle with yours truly. Because we're both Disablededed and it looks so CUTE!

Let me make one thing absolutely clear, this is a half baked notion born out of a patronising stereotype. And he looks like he should be my brother.

That said, I would be lying if I said the conversation that ensued did not cause something approaching...fuzziness. Fuzziness. Then rage.

Sam: So what are you doing for Valentine's Day?

Stage one: Embarrassment

Nic: MMMidunnno

Stage two: Hurried confimation of availability.

Nothing.

Stage three: Agressive defense mechanism.

Why the fuck would i be doing anything?

[Pause]


Sam: I'm watching Crystal Palace.




Knobhead.

*Courtesy of Beautiful South's Valentine's Day W@*k.

Curtis Eller's American Circus: Taking Up Serpants Again [2004]

I was drawn to this CD by Curtis Eller's jawdropping set at the Half Moon in Putney last Friday. Jawdropping not least because I thought he was going to fall offstage on top of me at one point. For all the high kicks, foot stomping and errr...yodelling , the New Yorker's performance had 'not as good on record' stamped all over it. A fair enough assumption, if I say so myself, when so much of his appeal lies in the fact he jumps, like, really REALLY high. And plays banjo.

The banjo on his latest album is neither layered a la Sufjan Stevens or coupled with the acoustic Stripes-like guitar favoured by Langhorne Slim. It sounds weedy in places and the female backing singers used to counter it are all a bit Jools Holland Boogie Woogie for this Turtle's liking. Taking Up Serpents' riff could be lifted straight out of Seven Swans, yet there's nothing godly about Eller's worldview. For one thing he's stuck in 1935. That makes him a rarity amoung the Americana Folkies. 'Slim makes all the right noises, but is essentially an uptight child of the Noughties ; Iron & Wine, hell, Iron & Wine's last EP includes the line 'We were born to fuck each other'. Only Curtis thinks to embrace the era he owes so much to. When he sings 'Come back to the movies Buster Keaton' you suspect he means it. That is why this record deserves a second look. Eller and his Circus aren't just playing to revivalism, they really care.