I possess a washing machine, oddly enough. I possess one, because I wear clothes and these clothes need washing. As, of course, do my sheets. I possess a tumble drier. The function of this is to dry clothes.
Both of these items get used between once and twice a week. And neither is exactly full.
My chief thought every time I go outside for a cigarette after loading the machine up is to look up the street and wonder how many washing machines and tumble driers are in the street. How many half full washing machines and tumble driers there are, washing and tumbling away.
And then to wonder just how many washing machines and tumble driers would ACTUALLY be needed to serve the street. If the street owned the said machines in common. And paid for them in common. Would we all of us living in that street not be a lot better off owning shares in an adequate number of washing machines and tumble driers?
Every fortnight I toddle down to Morrison's and spend a good fifty quid on food. And I'm not a big eater. And I'm pretty stingy about food- if it's buy one get one free on economy burgers, I'm doing it. Then again, I waste money on expensive seafood snacks and the like. But I still use a fan assisted oven or a grill to cook what is always a meal for one.
And this food is kept in a fridge freezer.
Again, I can't help feeling that if the street as a whole had somebody whose job it was to get our food and cook it for us and it was stored in a much larger fridge freezer, the cost per head would be significantly less.
It strikes me that one of the things we like about going on holiday, is the fact we get to stay in a hotel. Where so much of the routine crap we waste our every day time on, is done for us and the cost is included in the bill.
And the only reason we as a society generally don't all decide to live in hotels is that they make us pay through the nose for that privilege. The only problem a hotel has, is filling its rooms- if it does that, it can't fail to make a profit. Since most manage to do that quite easily and still manage not to be full that often, it's quite clear that living such a lifestyle is actually quite efficient- it doesn't cost as much to provide per head, as the ACTUAL life we lead- and yet the actual life we lead, is harder work. If instead of paying fifty pounds a night to the hotelier for the room, the hotel was always full and we simply paid our share for the running of it- imagine how much lower our living costs would be than they are now?
The problem is, you mention that you believe life would be better if people lived in communes and people automatically think spaced out hippies walking slowly along a field throwing seeds into a furrow. Or sitting around strumming guitars and smoking pot.
Well, that's maybe why their communes didn't work so well. The Commune bit, good. The organisational system, somewhat lacking. A commune that consists of a few tents in the Arizona desert probably isn't a great idea. But then, farms of any kind in the Arizona desert aren't necessarily great ideas.
What I kind of envisage, is people living in vast, organised hotel complexes. The family home disappears, along with the conventional family. And in fact, one of the benefits of this, is it actually gives the individual more freedom to be an individual within a community which caters for his basic needs.
I would recommend each Commune/Hotel to house about five hundred individuals. It would fulfill the same dynamics a village does, in terms of community spirit, but would also replace the dynamics of the family. Within it, each adult would have their own apartment. Their own private space. With their own bedroom, living room, bathroom, etc. They wouldn't need a substantial cooking area, maybe just an area for preparing drinks and snackfoods.
And the individual would simply pay a flat rate for living costs. As of course, we do now. We now pay rent/mortgage, but we also pay bills, we buy food, we pay in our council taxes for our rubbish to be collected and our children to be educated.
So the flat rate for living costs would include the cost of these. But it would also include the other costs that living this way now meant could be handed over to the commune and the individual wouldn't need to worry about.
The Commune would have a domestic staff to cook and clean, do the laundry, maintain the property, etc. All these functions are now the responsibility of the commune. The individual actually no longer has to worry about doing ANYTHING. His/her life now becomes extra simple. S/he works, hands over one payment to the commune, and spends what is left on themselves. That's it. No need any longer to scrimp and save, life is now simple. There doesn't NEED to be a family any more with this mode of living, not in the way we now have it. In a commune/hotel, there can be a creche and nursery which takes care of the upbringing of children with full time nannies and the individual can spend as much- or as little time- with their children as suits them. And the imperative for couples to live together or indeed, have any commitment to eachother at all for any other reason than that they personally want to, has now been totally negated. Indeed, even if people did choose to be in a couple, there wouldn't ever be any drama concerning a breakup, because each one would STILL have their own living space, and whatever they chose to do would have absolutely no impact on any children they had.
And the most important point is, of course, that huge part of the fruit of your labours that is drained away by 'ownership' of the building in question. The biggest part of the life costs of most human beings is simply paying for the right to have a roof over your head. Paying a landlord to get rich simply because he owns it and you don't, or paying a bank many times what the bricks and mortar are actually worth, for an asset which has been paid for many times over somewhere along the line.
If every adult on reaching adulthood is automatically deemed to own an equal share in each of these commune/hotels and have an equal democratic voice in appointing its administrators, than that vast amount of personal credit each individual sees being syphoned off in a kind of 'roof tax', will no longer be being syphoned off.
It's not unreasonable to think that the typical bill being given to the individual to live this sort of life- if we chose to look at it in modern cash terms and include everything we now get as a 'bill' or a necessary living cost of some kind- would be around three hundred pounds a month. Less, probably.
Moving away from a cash based system; It would give the individual a far higher quality of life, far more personal credit in return for the labours they put in, and a necessity for far less labour to be put in at all.
I always say a general principle in life is never give information you don't have to.
People always say 'If you have nothing to hide, you shouldn't mind saying'.
Yes and no.
But the problem is that by answering a question, you validate the right of the person asking. For example, if asked my sexuality, I will always say 'I'd rather not say. Why, you might ask. After all, generally speaking, the reason why people might not choose to disclose their sexuality, is because of a lingering discrimination against minority sexualities. Since I happen to be 'heterosexual', why do I hide the fact by refusing to answer.
My reply? Because if the only people who declined to answer were homosexual or bisexual, then they're clearly identifiable by their refusal to answer. The only way to invalidate the RIGHT of the questioner to ask is if HETEROSEXUAL people refuse to answer as well.
It's always as well to establish these points- that people do NOT have the right to ask questions of you and you have the right not to answer. If you establish a precedent of giving people information you don't mind them knowing, then what is going to happen when they ask you questions you DON'T want to answer?
Ultimately, you are actually guarding your integrity. 'Them that asks no questions don't get told no lies'.
I tend to adopt that as a general life rule. The best way not to be in a situation where you don't find yourself being asked questions you don't want to answer, is establish a precedent of not answering questions at all.
It's often said, for example, that trust and honesty is a vital part of any relationship. This is true of course. But that cuts a number of ways.
For example, my best mate has a key to this flat. Not only that, he has the password to this PC. He uses it when I'm out, frequently. Furthermore, he knows I have a blog. He knows the name of the blog.
For him to read posts on this blog would be so, so, easy.
But he doesn't. It's not just that he SAYS he doesn't- he clearly doesn't. It would be apparent, in little ways, if he had done.
So in a sense, it's about mutual trust. He knows he appears on this blog- he even knows under what pseudonym. But he trusts me not to reveal too much about him, and I trust him to know the name of the blog AND NEVER READ IT. The fact he has the password to this PC is a huge act of trust on both our parts.
He knows, I think, if he ever read this blog, things could never be the same between us again. They couldn't.
Sometimes, that's what trust is about. Trust is about knowing someone can respect your boundaries.
In the same way, I have a general policy of NEVER answering any questions my parents ask. Or of giving totally neutral answers. 'How's work?' 'All right'.
Again, the reasons are clear. To keep a precedent going. If I was to start answering any of their questions about me in depth, then when it came to questions you don't want to answer, your reactions to these questions stands out.
My grandmother is the one who always likes to keep pushing the same question, cleverly hidden amongst the other seemingly innocuous ones. 'So- any special lady friends now?' And she always gets the standard answer 'You're not a confirmed great grandmother yet, no'. Covers everything, pretty much. To answer otherwise would be stating something one way or another. And that is something I do not intend to do. So I have an answer which politely says 'Mind your own business'. Variants of which work colleagues and others get...
You see, an important part of trust isn't just about honesty- it's about having our privacy respected. Our right NOT to have to give information to people when there is no necessity to give it.
People say that one of the main problems in relationships is honesty, but isn't it so often unreasonable suspicion? The unwillingness of one or other party to respect the privacy of the other? That has generally been my experience. For example, man comes home to partner.
She: All right! Where you been? He: I popped into the pub with some people from work. She: Really? Who?
Now, I guess some people can't see what's wrong with this exchange. But something is. HERE, in this exchange, is the roots of a relationship DOOMED.
Unless she actually knows his work colleagues, being told the names of the people he went to the pub with won't mean a thing to her. So- what really, is the point in her asking? To establish their gender. It's a safety check on her part to see whether he went to the pub with men or women- or worse- one female work colleague on her own.
But it's stupid on her part. Stupid. Because he's clocked the reason, subconsciously. And it means that if at some point a female work colleague DOES invite him for a drink after work, for perfectly innocent reasons- like say, they just happen to be friends- he's more likely to hide it now.
And she'll pick up he's hiding things and get more suspicious. And yet the things he's hiding are probably quite innocent.
Except of course over time, as her suspicions get worse, he really will find coming home to her increased questioning and her constant desire to pin down his every move just get too much. And he really does end up in the arms of another woman.
And she'll believe she was right to be suspicious. It won't occur to her that the reverse was true.
She won't even realise, the trust was actually lost when she asked a question that didn't need asking and the answer to which provided her with no information other than whether he went for a drink with a woman or not.
That was the point where HE no longer felt comfortable giving her information of his own free will.
Trust isn't about knowing that someone will give us an honest answer. Asking the question is itself a sign of distrust, and how do people who show such distrust expect to be trusted? It might increase the short term peace of mind of the questioner, but it increases the distrust of the questioned.
Trust is about knowing you will always be told what you need to know- and knowing that someone trusts you never to ask you anything you don't want to tell them, that they know without asking that you will always tell them what they should know, when you are ready to tell them.
Sometimes, if we want people to trust US, we have to let THEM decide what they want us to know. We have to let THEM decide how much of their life they want to give us. Because if we take it upon ourselves to decide that- How on earth do we expect to be trusted?
When I was chapel orderly at Sudbury, I used to have quite in depth theological chats most days with the CofE chaplain, a kind of Vicar of Dibley character.
She disliked being referred to as 'Protestant'. She maintained that the CofE was neither Protestant or Catholic. Indeed, on some of her views, I could accept where she was coming from- because she inclined more to transubstantiation than consubstantiation, amongst other things. She was quite Catholic in many of her viewpoints.
I think she knew I found the whole Protestant outlook anathema to any serious modern world outlook and I think she knew my view on a lot of tradition Christian teachings. She knew I didn't believe in a personal God in the way many non-thinking Christians do.
One of the key topics we used to argue about was the fact that in my view, you cannot interpret Christ's teaching's on salvation and redemption as implying anything other han the existence of Purgatory. Fact is, I don't believe in Heaven or Hell, particularly, but I maintain that if you believe in those places as being real, you have to believe in Purgatory. And to me, it is this fact amongst others makes Protestantism a nonsense creed.
The key text any Catholic uses to prove this point, is of course, the Epistle of James, the whole 'Show my faith without works, and I will show you my faith by my works' passage. The text proves that faith on its own is nothing. That is the Catholic viewpoint and it's opposition to the Protestant viewpoint is one of the key divisors between the faiths.
But one of the other things we used to discuss was deeper differences between Catholicism and the rest of Christianity. The differences which, to me, mean that the other variants are bastard creeds which don't get the point.
Because of course, I am a Catholic. Deeply so. Catholic in the sense that a huge part of my ethos, the very way I think could ONLY be the outlook of someone who understands a fundamental point that is inherent in Catholic thought, and absent in all other variants of Christianity.
And it came up in conversation once when we were discussing women priests. She said 'I guess, though you don't say it, you don't see me as being a valid priest'.
I pondered. 'I can't dispute the validity of your ordination, because it was valid under apostolic succession. But.'
I leaned forward 'You know when I was little and I first heard about Protestants? Do you know what the thing was that shocked me most? Hearing that their priests were married'.
She raised her eyebrows 'I guess it would seem odd, yes, if you weren't raised to expect it'.
I sat back 'No, I wasn't. We went to church every Sunday to a church attached to a college, a church served by about eight priests. And my Gran knew all of them. Priests and clergy were a major part of my life at that age. So I had a very definite image of what a priest was. Hearing about married priests was a bit like the first time I heard about the Mormons and their many wives- just something that you feel to be WRONG. Somehow a little disgusting. A perversion of what a priest should be'.
She smiled 'And how do feel about it now'.
I shrugged 'I still don't see how you can be a priest AND be married. It's not what being a priest is all about. The whole point about being a priest is you separate yourself from that. You have been ordained to serve the Church, the Church is your bride. Having a wife and family is incompatible with serving a higher cause'.
She interjected 'But wouldn't you say that the main problem your church faces is that it can't get priests because no one wants to live a life of sexless abstinence these days?'
I smiled 'Aye, the opposite problem to your lot, ain't it? You got empty churches, we have full ones with no priests. Yes, it's a problem. Because of the way we've been forced to interpret it. It was not ever thus. When Gregory VII extended the ban on marriage to secular clergy, he actually stated he wasn't saying priests couldn't keep mistresses, he wasn't saying they had to be chaste, he specifically said that. Chastity was still something he only expected of monks. What he was saying, was that he didn't want priests burdening themselves with wives. It was only after the Tridentine council, when the Church was under fire from the Protestants that these rules were tightened. Because one of the key criticisms the opponents of the faith made was that almost every single Cardinal and Bishop of the Church had a horde of bastard children out there, most often these bastard children got Church positions themselves'.
She shook her head 'And you think that's how it should be, do you?'
I shrugged 'If it was, I'd have been ordained a long time ago. That's the point.'
The point is about the distinction between the Shepherds and the Flock. It isn't so distinct in Protestantism. The clergy there are not a separate caste, with a separate values system. In Catholicism, they are. In Protestantism, there is a 'One size fits all' moral framework. This isn't the case in Catholicism.
Catholicism teaches you very early on, there are two things you can do with your life, two things you can aspire to.
In many ways, this difference in outlook is crucial I think in understanding just how much an impact this framework of thought affects you. My grandmother was devoutly religious, in a Catholic way. She's never in her life read a verse of the Bible. But she knows the Missal backwards. And she brought me up to revere one institution- the clergy.
And actually, I still do. I still revere the Catholic clergy. Because of the idealism they represent.
You see, most non Catholics reach adulthood thinking that the ideal for their life is to fall in love and settle down and raise a family. To love and BE loved.
That wasn't actually the value hammered into me. To me, doing all that would actually make me a FAILURE.
A second rate human being.
Someone who could not rise to the challenge, the challenge that Catholicism asks of those it considers worthy.
Catholicism asks of those it deems fit to be entrusted with knowledge, with striving for enlightenment, with being the footsoldiers of the faith, that they love humanity generally, and do not ask to be loved back by a single one of them.
It is often pointed out that a lot of those who are inclined to Marxism on theoretical grounds, are Catholic educated. That there is something in the mind of someone brought up Catholic which means that ultimately, yes, the need to have a driving ideology which takes precedence over all else, is pretty much ingrained. Of course, I remain a Catholic, it's merely I have also embraced Marxism as a Socio-Economic creed.
But my attitude to idealism, is, of course, that ingrained on every Catholic boy seen as 'promising material'. As I was, of course. I was brought up to accept one over-riding principle.
Whether you succeed or fail in life, will be down to whether or not you can over-ride one temptation in particular. Just one. And it's not so much sex, that doesn't really matter.
It's being loved.
If it's there in front of you, the chance to love and be loved back, can you reject it? Because it's that rejection, that rejection is the key. That really was the 'Last Temptation of Christ'. It is the rejection everyone worthy of priesthood MUST make. Or live their lives in second rate failure, a person who sacrificed their principles to the heart.
A person who decided to accept the life of growing old and nursing their grandchildren on their knee.
As opposed to a person who lives every day of their life serving ideals and nothing else.
The point is, the fact one DOESN'T get ordained and become a priest, doesn't invalidate that basic choice. I'm not a priest, I have way too many vices. But I still see the logic of the point, the point that is inherent in everything Catholicism asks of it's clergy.
I can remember once me and my then girlfriend Claire were discussing a point of principle once and I said that if it ever came to it and war broke out in those circumstances, I would in those circumstances go off and fight as a volunteer. And Claire said 'Don't you think that's quite selfish? What about me and any children we might have? You'd go off, perhaps never to be seen again, leaving children without a father?' I was surprised at her response 'Of course! I wouldn't think twice about it!'
Which is why Catholicism asks its priests NOt to be in that situation. NOT to have peple they can't leave behind...
Because I suppose it comes down to the following; If you have a choice from the following options, which would you rather do?
Die a martyr for a cause you believe in
Grow old and bounce the grandchildren on your knee
Then actually, if I can have either, I'd go for the first. It's ingrained in me to prefer that option, to hanker after it, to see any life that doesn't end that way as kind of being a failure.
But coming back to the real dynamic of the priestly ideal and why it affects me every day of my life, why it actually hangs over my interpersonal relationships; it's this.
The real point of why Catholics have always respected their clergy is this. Because they are men who have rejected that most basic of human needs, to be loved by someone, in the name of principle. And because they have done that, we the Catholic laity accept their moral right to lead. Because moral leadership rests, and can only rest on that.
Your principles are nothing if they cannot pass that ultimate test.
That you will reject the chance to love and be loved in their name.
And I wrestle with that all my life. I wrestle with it with Haydee. I think she finds my position hard to understand, why it is I seemingly torment myself with these demons. I told her about a conversation I had last night in the pub at the bar. Basically, I bumped into a girl who I was pretty sure I'd seen before. She initially refused to comment, but looking into her eyes, I knew that I'd looked into those eyes at a 'certain moment'. And when I bluntly put it to her that we'd done that particular deed at some point, she admitted it was so, but she wouldn't tell me any more, except that if I wanted to repeat the act, the offer was there.
Haydee finds it hard to understand why I'm so blase about that sort of thing, but am so uncomfortable with things such as 'meaningful relationships'.
And the truth is, because at heart I find the idea devalues me. That being in one is accepting existence as a failure. I always find when I'm in one that my self esteem is slightly- diminished.
It is accepting that you have no driving principles above and beyond, principles which demand that you make the ultimate sacrifice and reject loving and being loved back.
You see, what Haydee can't quite see, and I guess no other woman has and very few people really see the logic in, is this.
I've loved, yes. And I've been loved. I've only loved and been loved back once. But I was nineteen. And actually, even then, it did give me some misgivings. At one point, I was actually considering doing a moonlight flit down to Caldey Island to spend some time with the Cistercian monks whilst I got my head around loving Joanna.
But somewhere at the back of my mind really is this idea that if I had it there on a plate in front of me; Haydee, the woman I loved, loving me back, that it wouldn't be a gift, it wouldn't be that straight forward.
It would be a choice.
And I don't know what I would do. I've never felt this way and if she truly loved me, how could I say no? How could I turn down spending my life with her. Because so much of me wants to. How could you turn down the love of someone you love?
And yet. There is part of my entire thought system that says that doing just that, is passing the greatest test of all.
You see, this is what torments me about my love for her. Because I've never loved like this before. And now I do, I see why it is so hard. When you love someone like this, how could you say no to them, if they felt the same way. You want to hold them every minute you can. And if they wanted that too, how could you steal your nerves and say 'No. We can't'?
I find the paradox of the situation hard to deal with. You see, rejecting them for higher principles only has value as a sacrifice if they really are the only woman you will ever love and if they really are offering you their love.
So- for me to wish that she loved me, would be for me to wish that she'd put me in a situation where I would be confronted with what- now I can see the moral consequences of that test- would be the greatest moral challenge of my life, and it would be a situation where I would not know what to do.
Here is the paradox- I feel that until you've had that test, be offered love forever by a woman you love AND REJECT IT, you do not know your worth. But one thing I know. If Haydee offered, I don't think I could say no. How do you reject someone you love?
How hard is that?
That the ultimate point of moral principle, is that men of principle reject the love of those they love?
That ultimately, wanting to be loved back really is the ultimate weakness?
That you can never REALLY say you have conquered life, until you truly have learned to love, and have rejected being loved back. You give your love, gratis.
That, I guess, is the moment of true enlightenment.
And I don't yet know if it's something I could live up to.
People don't realise that that is the central message of Catholicism- loving, without being loved, aspiring for the crown of martyrdom over and above the warm embrace of a loved one.
If you want to live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse, you are following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. James Dean just updated the message.
Because that is the root of the problem.
I want to live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse, and the clock is ticking by. But could I overcome that most powerful of temptations, that lure that so many succumb to?
DON'T die young. Grow old. With me. Who loves you. Grow old in my arms.
And I wrestle so much with this, I do.
Because if the second choice came along, and I took it, would I regret it on my death bed? Would I look into the eyes of the woman I loved and regret the life I had squandered through being with her?
Because doesn't accepting someone's love forever simply mean you have no principle that you would put above them? Sure, it will make you happy, but's the point isn't it? You've opted for happiness. It proves you have no principles that you'd sacrifice your happiness for.
That, that is the moral question that Catholicism asks. And is that that it bequethes to all who grew up within the strictures of its teaching, whether they fully accept, or fully reject the technicalities of its theology. It bequethes that mindset.
It bequethes that thought.
That for your life to really be worthwhile, it has to be lived in devotion to a cause. And for it to truly be lived in devotion to a cause, one must even sacrifice the chance to be loved.
It leaves that thought hanging over us, that sense that wanting to be loved is a weakness.
It does not teach is that is wrong, indeed it openly provides for it as something that the majority of human beings should strive for. But it implicitly teaches that those who reject it have chosen a higher life.
And I can see the logic of why that should be so. Because I grew up believing it to be so. That belief is ingrained in my bones.
And my internal self has fought that war for many long years. The wish to find love and be loved. And the feeling that that wish is a weakness- a weakness that could waste my life.
For years I used to wear a Bobby Sands lapel pin. I lost it a few years back.
Sometimes people would criticise me for it.
I used to look them in the eye and say 'Could you do it? What he did?'
Bobby Sands changed history. Bobby Sands did more in dieing, than he ever could have done by living. Bobby Sands was a man, in the true sense of the word. Bobby Sands made Ireland proud.
Bobby Sands determined to die. Not a quick and easy death. Bobby Sands' death was not a threat. It was a promise.
It wasn't a case of 'Do this or I take my life'.
It was a case of 'Watch me die. Slowly. I have the will. I will carry on, day after day, week after week, month after month resisting you, until I die. Let's see how long that takes. And the longer it takes me to die, the more guilt lies on your head'.
Bobby Sands determined that he was going to stop carrying out those functions which sustain human life. And only resume them when and if the Thatcher government gave in.
Day in, day out, that battle continued. Their decision was easy, just say no to Bobby Sands. Not hard. His decision EVERY DAY, was harder. Say no to life.
He had to make that decision every day for three months. But he did it.
Bobby Sands was first interned as a rookie volunteer. His actual IRA service record wasn't impressive. He earned his status- and his rank- inside.
His life wasn't that of a great guerilla or freedom fighter- just another internee.
But in death he etched his name upon the annals of the greatest martyrs of all time.
Captain Robert Sands 1954-1981, MP (Sinn Fein) Fermanagh and South Tyrone April-May 1981
I was awoken about eleven thirty this morning by having random items deposited on my head. A bogroll, my wallet, a curtain, etc.
Profoundly annoying in some respects. 'I left my coat here last night'.
And I roll over thinking 'Well, why can't you just let yourself in, get your coat and go quietly? Why, when you let yourself in to get something, or use the computer, do you always have to go through this ritual of dumping items on my sleeping form?'
Because he does it every time.
About an hour later I was on the PC, eating breakfast (Wine gums) and chatting to Haydee. Which I'm still doing.
I suppose in a way, I don't overly mind the dumping of items on my head in this bizarre mates ritual. It has some curious purpose in there somewhere, I'm sure. Some ritual purpose which is some curious outward dynamic of twelve years of close friendship. And I reflect that at least I can be sure of one thing. If I ever die in my sleep, I wouldn't lie decomposing for long.
Even with the baby being on the scene, we still spend a lot of time together. Not as much as either of us would like. He's trying to arrange with D for us to spend 'quality time' together at some point over Christmas. Like we used to be able to do. Go out somewhere on the Friday, then sit and listen to music, maybe watch a few DVDs and debate topics for hours on end, punctuated by the odd trip to the pub, just spend days enjoying eachother's company. I do miss those weekends.
I don't know how he does it, this family man life.
I have fought so hard all my life to create this space. To be able to come home at six o'clock and shut the door. Me on one side, the world on the other. And no one can cross that threshold without my say so. No one can just turn up and expect to be let in- I don't answer the doorbell. I only open the door, when I am expecting someone. I will answer my phone if I'm out of the flat, but unless it's the Baker or a call I'm expecting, I usually won't answer my phone at home. I'll let it go through to voicemail, then return the call when it's convenient for me. This is my home. And when I'm in it, I talk to who I want, when I want.
It's having that personal space that I can control access to. That having crossed that threshold, I'm safe in Fort Crushed. That in Fort Crushed, my rules and my rules alone apply.
I eat when I want, I sleep when I want. I come and go as I please.
I want it that way. I'm not a recluse, far from it. I go out most nights of the week. But that's the point. I go OUT. I leave Fort Crushed to do so. And out there, I'll give everything.
But I will guard my fortress with my life. It's mine.
I guess I spend a fair portion of my time when I am here chatting to Haydee. I suppose in many ways I let her in in a way I wouldn't normally. Things is, one of the most important factors in me being comfortable chatting away to her is the safety features. If it didn't have the safety features, would I be so comfortable? I love her, I do, I love her with all my heart.
BUT. I have invented a safe way of never really being lonely in Fort Crushed, yet still being totally in control. And that's the point. Control.
With Internet Messenger, you can appear offline.
Really, it's that simple. It's a safety feature which ultimately means I'm comfortable conversing with Haydee hours on end from my own home. And I don't feel uneasy that my control over Fort Crushed is threatened.
You see, the real truth about why I feel so safe with her, why I guess I love her and give her my heart, even though she doesn't want me that way, can be summed up by describing a little byplay that I would guess happens every couple of weeks or so.
I come in, I switch on the PC, and alter the IM settings to 'Appear permanently offline to Haydee'. Why do I do this? It varies. Some days it's because I feel really strongly about her and don't think I can deal with talking to her, some days it's because I'm being a petulant little girl about something, either way I've decided at the point I get in, that I want to pretend to be out. To her.
And then when I see her come online, a funny feeling comes over me. Because always, always, when she does, I want to talk to her. And I'm wrestling with myself. Do I alter the settings back?
And I usually think 'Leave it a bit'.
But somehow, she seems to instinctively know. Know when I'm actually not there, as opposed to 'hiding'. And she'll IM through 'Are you there?'
And that moment, I guess, is what it's all about. That moment, I guess, is my safety feature.
When she does that, I feel two sensations mixing. One is a negative feeling, a kind of panic. What do I do? Do I answer or not? The other is knowing that I don't want to push her away, a feeling of total love for her. A sense of shame that I hid from her.
And it always goes the same. My finger hovers over the keyboard thinking, 'Do I answer her, or run out that door to the Westcroft and lay low for a while? Have a couple of pints and flirt with Lou?'
And I always go for the first choice. Always.
And I feel a sense of guilt. Because I have kind of been slightly disingenuous. But I think she kind of understands why. I love her, so, so much, but I fear her too, BECAUSE of that. And a huge part of me, larger than she can truly realise is so, so, reassured by her NOT loving me back.
It's knowing that I CAN push her away, if I so wish. That I could just not answer. That I could, if I wanted to, just not respond. That it would be that easy.
People say finding someone who they love and loves them back is the most important thing in their lives. Not to me.
Having full control of the switches which permit or deny people access to me, THAT is the most important thing in my life. And making sure that if I give you access, you touch nothing. That you leave everything exactly the way I've organised it. You can look, but you can't touch.
I have a vast life out there, outside Fort Crushed, which just about anyone has access to. I most certainly do not live the life of a recluse.
But Fort Crushed is mine. Mine and mine alone. I don't want anyone else to share control of it.
I'm going to go toast some crumpets and eat them in the bath. Then I'm going to pop to the pub for a bit. I'm hoping Haydee will be about when I get back, because I miss her and I was enjoying that conversation we were having about the legends of Ys and Lyonesse. And I'll probably be up most of the night doing various blogging related stuff. I'll turn in about half four. I might visit my grandmother tomorrow, I might not. It's possible the Baker will come round and we'll go for a drink. I also want to continue with Operation Seduce Gemma.
This isn't some kind of default life I'm forced to live because I have no alternative. It's the life I CHOOSE to live and would RATHER live.
And it's taken me my whole life to find it.
A life where no one shares the power I have over me, and I depend on no one.
It's rare this blogger promotes other bloggers. Time was when I did. Time was when I wholly subscribed to the game 'link me, link me, link me'.
Nowadays, you get a link when it's right you get one.
So for any blogger who has been linked through this blog in 2008, you had that link because the quality of your blog DESERVED it.
I don't DO that game any more. If I link you in a post, it really is because I WANT my readers to follow that link to support my point, not because I want to curry favours with you. If you read a post of mine and I link to you in it, it really is because I think your post says it better than I can.
Likewise, my blogrolls. The Blogpower one stays at the top. It will always do so whilst I remain a member of that organisation. One day, that could change. As things stand, that will never happen. I do not agree with the opinions of every member of that organisation, but if there is a single member of that organisation who can truly say they are dedicated to the underlying ideals of the Blogpower ethos more than this blogger is, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.
I will continue to display that blogroll at the top, because of what it MEANS. Until we truly have a proper organisation of bloggers, with the same ethos of a Trade Union, dedicated to protecting the rights of individual writers, no matter who they are, to write freely without their blogs being sullied by personal issues, Blogpower is the best of all collectives of Independent writers out there. And I will stand by that principle, and I will stand by Blogpower to deliver for every Blogger who joins our ranks.
Now we come to the blogroll below.
I have total freedom to add who I want to that. But what is the point of it?
I don't use it, I'll tell you now. My blogroll ISN'T for my use. I read you all through Google Reader. I probably click a link on my blogroll once a week. Just to chase up a comment where I asked a question. Or where I know the comment I left was provocative as hell. My blogroll isn't there for me.
It's for you.
Sticking a blog on my blogroll, is me endorsing it. It's me saying, I'm happy to send traffic that way.
If you're on my blogroll, it means I'm happy to be associated with you. More than that, I've weighed up the pros and cons, and decided you're an asset to this blog.
Now. Time was when my own convenience would have been a factor. Those days are long gone. If I link you, it means I think you're a person who has something to say. It doesn't mean I agree with you. I link Wayne of Central News. I most certainly do NOT agree with him. Not on his party politics. But his politics aside, he blogs the way bloggers should. So I'm happy to promote him, regardless of what he says.
Put simply, I don't care what your views are, be a good blogger who wants to talk, I'm in, and you're connected to this blog. If you want to behave like a twat, I don't want to know.
This isn't a fucking lonely hearts column.
Some of us are actually here because we want to seize the opportunity to DO something about the dire state of human affairs. So if you want to use your blog to whinge on incessantly about your broken heart, please, go die quietly in a corner from it. Grow up. Stop being a teenager. Or die from it. One or the other. Frankly, I don't care much. Adults get over these things.
Now.
La Femme. That was the point of the post after all, wasn't it?
Why am I promoting La Femme? Me, who has only ONCE in 2008 run a post actively promoting a blogger. Mon Dieu is a new-ish blog. She post irregularly.
Well, I'm hoping she'll post more.
To be honest, I just like her comments. I like the person that comes through. She argues with me. She puts me down. BUT. It's not that she does those things, it's that she has a right to do so when she does. She doesn't pull her punches, but nor should she.
Her comments hit exactly the right spot. There are (were) some commentors whose comments we DIDN'T want. Because they weren't constructive, just ad hominem arguments. For example, I write a post about my ex girlfriend, they write a comment about... 'oyu are an emotional predator who ants to found a cult to gangbang women'...
And then we had Faht Twat (now an unlamented blogging memory I think) and his his 'Ey up, you's a bit queer lad' comments...
No, we don't much care for those type of comments...
I delete them, because they add nothing to the comments section. It's not censorship, it's removing unrelated drivel- comments that do not relate to the post. Comments made by people who are incapable of divorcing personal sentiments from blogging.
I know very little about her, except she writes posts, when she does, with passion, and she comments with courage and conviction.
Actually, let's take that further, I know Jack Shit about her, except she comments with courage and conviction. But just having that, means nothing. I'm sure Gary Glitter could blog with courage and conviction.
I like her convictions.
I like the way she clearly feels inside. I have full respect for the person she shows herself to be- or the person I've seen her as, anyway.
I think the Blogosphere could do with more bloggers like her. And I really hope she'll grace us with a lot more posts showing us the thoughts that operate within a mind of such high quality.
And I hope she'll continue to come here and tear my posts to pieces with her sardonic, incisive wit.
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