“all of this could be yours if the price is right”

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Originally uploaded by Lolie Smith

Wow, what a weekend. Finally I’m learning how to make the most of my time off. It helped to have the lovely Scho for company, and we had a fantastic time.

After various landlord irritations, I was off to St Pancras with still-wet hair. For variety’s sake, or perhaps just on a whim, I treated myself to Starbucks and the overhead train into Kings X, something I usually resent since all my travel is free apart from that. I’m still impressed with the clean-and-pretty of St Pancras, though we didn’t linger long once I met up with my favourite Frenchwoman.

The lack of Vic line gave me the two days of freedom, but it made the journey slightly slower. Still, using inferior lines we made it to Borough for the most delicious Eggs Benedict and fruit juices, then onwards to Lambeth North for some SERIOUS EDUCATION AND CULTURE. We are that classy.

Honestly though, I was kind of blown away the Imperial War Museum . I’ve been saying for years that I wanted to see the Holocaust exhibition, the one part of history that never fails to compel, terrify and sadden me with every new piece of information. It was as vast and comprehensive as it was shocking. Incredibly sobering to realise what humanity is capable of. The real sucker punch came at the end, the video footage of survivors played against the giant text of Edmund Burke’s “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing” quote. It’s impossible enough to wrap the brain cells around the cruelty, but even those who did escape of survive have lived decades with nightmares and guilt over those who perished. Heartbreaking, truly.

It’s another redeeming feather in the cap of British tourist attractions/public institutions though. The Secret War exhibit kind of kicks the ass of the International Spy Museum in DC. Similar principle obviously, but the very British tone of it all, the greater access to now released documents and artefacts, it all felt more real. Plus, it ended with a really wonderful display about the role of the SAS and civil liberties vs security. Bloody well done I say.

The evening was fuelled by Absolut and beetroot crisps. No honestly, that’s a thing. ‘How to Lose Friends and Alienate People’ finally got an airing, my love of Gillian Anderson meaning I sat through another sub-par cinematic offering. At least it was mildly amusing, with bitchy commentary making the whole experience.

Sunday was silly indulgence day, a 3D screening of Monsters vs Aliens which had that predictable ‘haven’t we already done this?’ feel that all Dreamworks productions seemed to be tarred with, but I’ll overlook anything for Hugh Laurie and Amy Poehler.

Home via Nando’s and their cracktastic mango marinade for a further Amy fix in the form of Baby Mama. I reviewed this when I first watched it, but it stands up well on a second viewing.

I have, however, had about three hours sleep since Friday. Trying to keep up with young whippersnappers makes me feel every one of my 26 years and then some.

“I don’t go to therapy to find out if I’m a freak”

It’s astounding to me that this can still be the case, but there are therapists out there in Blighty still attempting to “de-gay” people.  Even the expression ‘treatment for homosexuality’, as this article phrases it, fills me with a kind of cold dread.

Saddest of all is that people even in our ‘enlightened’ age can be made to feel that being homosexual is an illness, that it’s something so wrong or shameful that they simply have to have it exorcised, like some form of perverted demon.  While I have had the occasional bout of questioning, of musing over how much easier my life would be if I just stuck to dating men, ultimately it comes down to biology.

When I see an attractive woman, the relevant departments wake up and make their individual contributions to a physical ‘zing’, and all the well-intend chatting in the world won’t stop that from happening.  Similarly, although there are a great many men I find to be handsome and witty and brilliant, I don’t get that ‘raaaaaaaawr I’m gonna jump him’ feeling at all.  (Fernando Torres being the exception, but as I keep reminding everyone – he looks like a girl!).

Ultimately, if people seek ‘treatment’ for whatever reason, therapists can’t simply ignore them or pretend it isn’t an issue.  I really can’t see an alternative course to helping those affected to rationalise and accept their homosexual feelings, any attempts at a ‘cure’ just simply don’t work.  Offering the impossible would be unethical at best.

In further sex-sex-sex news, the Committee of Advertising Practice (judging by some of the adverts lately, there’s an R missing from that acronym) is considering a relaxation of the rules on advertisements for abortion services and condom/STD ads before the watershed.  To which I say, about bloody time.

In the many snippets on rolling news channels that I was half-paying attention to, a seemingly educated gentleman made the point that these are all perfectly legal services, and why therefore should they be subject to restrictions?  I couldn’t agree more, because this country needs more sex education and not less.  The problem is, with everything from Hollyoaks to the Pussycat Dolls (oh, get your own ‘yoof’ terms, I’m on the march to 30 dontchaknow?) that teenagers (and younger) are being presented with the fantasy of sex.  What they need is a large dose of reality – including consequences like STDs and pregnancy.

Speaking of which, here’s an absolutely terrifying report about the irresponsibility of 16-24 year olds: 68 freaking percent admitted they don’t use condoms.  What the hell?  Are you really saying that in a huge metropolitan place like London, with all the access to the internet and everything else that so many people can think that sort of behaviour is safe?  The comments of sheer ignorance regarding HIV made my jaw drop when I first read it on the Tube tonight.  Not getting AIDS because you’re “not gay” or too young, or the disease isn’t as fatal and life-wrecking as it used to be?  While I accept that advances in HIV drug therapies have made it livable, this is not a lifestyle change you want to make voluntarily.  I feel like I’m in a flashback to the 80s (though of course I was only a nipper then) and any minute now there’ll be a press conference with Ronald Reagan not even saying the word.

Are we really back there?  The misinformation, playing Russian Roulette with every ejaculation?  I really don’t know what to say about this anymore, but if ever there was a sign that we need to ramp up the accurate information being given out to these morons, I think we just received it loud and clear.

“sing for the damage we’ve done and the worse things that we’ll do”

April is fast approaching, bringing with it the 20th Anniversary of the Hillsborough Disaster.  There will be more moving tributes already in print than anything I could ever say, and this piece in the Observer is particularly vivid.  I thank the Footballing Gods that UEFA saw sense and didn’t force Liverpool to play on the anniversary, and hope that instead we’ll lead into it by having spanked Chelsea at the Bridge (for the second time this season!!).

The club, massive though it is, has always retained a sense of community.  Sure, it’s hard to get tickets a lot of the time unless you’ve had a season ticket since nineteen canteen, but I’m sort of proud that so many of the club’s former greats are still involved in the daily running of the club, and that every major issue on Merseyside, from Michael Shields to James Bulger has access to the immense platform that LFC provides.

So the new recording of “Fields of Anfield Road”, to raise awareness of Hillsborough and raise money for the Hillsborough Families’ Support Group is really quite moving.  It’s sort of adorable to see Kenny Dalglish blush as they sing about him, in the words of the song that rings out around Anfield at least once every home game.  You can watch the video here, with the familiar first verses for Shankly and Paisley (because this club never forgets its history, at least we have one, eh?) and a new verse in tribute to those 96 people who lost their lives.  They lost their lives due to the mistakes of others, and those responsible have not yet been held to account, not even close.  Anne Williams and her case in the European Court for her son Kevin remains the last hope of getting the arbitrary (and convenient) 3.15pm cutoff from the original 1991 enquiry overturned.  That limited time period allowed the verdict of ‘accidental death’, one of the biggest whitewashes in British legal history.

While justice has still not been done, fans and non-fans alike can take a moment on April 15th to remember those who died simply because they wanted to watch their team and the system let them down.

An even better tribute might be to win the League and European Cup double this season, but like all sensible fans, I won’t get carried away.

Checking In

You know it’s been a while when Firefox doesn’t remember your WordPress login anymore.

Perhaps that’s a timely reminder to start using this thing again, but I’m making no promises until I’m more sure I can keep them.  News from the land of Lola is that I’m now a fully licenced Tube Driver, though I’ve spent my time since passing out in pointless away days rather than actually driving.  Still, the job is secure and that’s the main thing.

Some theatre coming up in the next few weeks – Judi Dench in Madame de Sade (reviews unpromising) and Spring Awakening at the Novello, the fangirling over which has already set my teeth on edge.  Still, if it keeps original work coming into the theatre instead of constant tribute band shows, I’m all for it.

Anyway, it’s still alive, and if I put my mind to it I may write on here more than once a month. Maybe.