Phonology

It's been a long long time since I've blogged on a regular basis, but I have a slight notion to return.  We shall see. I don't use the web quite as much as I used to but I may find some interesting things to blog about if I think about it. 

Meanwhile here's a picture of the Parsonage to  keep you pondering...

It's ages since I've been in here. Many apologies. I got a renewal notice for my domain name and it got me to thinking. Time to pipe up, or pack up?

I'll get back to you on that one...

As I've not been around for ages, I thought I'd give a little run down of things that have recently tickled my fancy. Due to an extended period of illness, I've been confined to quarters with neither internet, music nor cinema, so I have managed to reacquire the habit of reading. I'm not a fast or voracious reader, but I go through phases of enjoying literature. I used to be a librarygoer, but I've not been for ages. I still have 12 or 13 books in the to-read pile and before I buy any more, I intend to work my way through them and I think for the sake of my bank balance, the library may be my friend (If I don't owe them a mahoosive fine...)

I think the book that started this off was a birthday gift from my friend Leon, Douglas Coupland's Shampoo Planet. i was going away for a short break and I needed something to read on the journey. Of course I packed a few books, but the first one I happened to pick up was Mr Coupland. You know how it is when you anticipate a book being attractive to read. I like my books well written but not verbose, meaningful but not pompous, opinionated and most of all absorbing. I have read a few Coupland books before and have always enjoyed them, but until now, I hadn't really noticed how he cuts through all the shit and writes about humanity in such an uncompromising but loving way. I promptly bought another of his books, as I think these works are going to be my friends.

Another gift, this time from Hannah, gripped me, first of all for its oddness. Stuart, A Life Backwards, by Alexander Masters is a peculiar biography of Stuart Shorter, a homeless and mentally ill drug addict. It pulls no punches and is funny and sad, never romanticizing or oversympathising with sometimes unpleasant themes, and is genuinely shocking by way of its structure as well as its subject matter.

Thank you, you two, you got me reading again!

I was told by a friend that I shouldn't see the film Jude, (as it was far too depressing and I would weep copiously despite the presence of Christopher Eccleston) so I decided, when I saw the book in a local charity shop, that I would read it instead. I've never read any Thomas Hardy before, but after reading Jude The Obscure, I think I may have to investigate some more. What infuriating characters! Such sorrow and frustration, so beautifully portrayed. I could hardly put the bloody thing down, dammit!

So. Books, then. Aren't they brilliant?

Goodbye 2004, you really weren't my favourite year, in fact you were one of my least.This year, I've learnt many things, some of which I'm going to turn into aphorisms and clichés just because I can.Nothing stays the same.Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better.People are strange.Being precise isn't everything.Life is what you make it.Look after number one.Nothing lasts forever.Oh, look, some of them are song lyrics or titles. How apt.

    For some time, I've been interested in the effects of sleep. The obvious reason for this is the fact that until very recently, I didn't do it. Sleep was something I only did for very short periods and I was always exhausted. But thanks to generalape, I read a wonderful book which taught me all about the effects of sleep and how to do something about my ever increasing and distressing insomnia. Now, it's true that self-help books tend to be over simplistic and overoptimistic, but this book is exceptional in that it's written by a one of the few sleep scientists in the world. The more I read, the more I believed. To be honest, it's only the true insomniac that realises the true power of sleep. But there's so much more to it than tiredness. Poor sleep can be the root cause of many common and life threatening illnesses, including high blood preassure and heart conditions,  and not to give sleep importance now seems like pure folly to me.

    My own experience is of exhaustion (through a long term inability to sleep more than three or four hours a night, the rest of the time spent fretting about the fact that I was awake), and persistent and ever increasing low mood. After learning a little about sleep, I learnt to recognise that even an hour less sleep than my body requires leads my mood to drop and my motivation to slump.

    And now today's news suggests there's a link between lack of sleep and obesity. Sleep's amazing. Time for bed.

    For the last couple of weeks, I have been without Birkenstocks in the work place, and yesterday, my right foot started objecting painfully. Currently, I have the following:

2 pairs of Arizona (one new, shiny and orange, and the other, ancient, falling apart and black) (like this)


1 pair of grey patterned Milanos (a bit like this)

1 pair Forest Green Super Birki in PU



1 pair broken Madera shoes (sniffle)



    Now, it's pricey to replace these shoes, but it's really not practical to wander about work in the orange ones and the green ones are for gardening or pottering on a beach. I'm really at a loss. There is no other - I think the credit card may have to come into play.

    Today I have been compelled with an urge to leave Glasgow for, um, utopia? While half doing housework and half doing nothing earlier today, I heard Germaine Greer on Any Questions mention the proposed smoking ban in the UK. Her point was that although the population is aware of the dangers of smoking, and there are health warnings on tobacco products, the people we're most likely to see lighting up with glee are 13 year olds, and that that infantile mentality often persists, despite adequate intelligence. We shouldn't need legislation to prevent harming ourselves or others. I can't see a way round it.

    Anyway, what was bothering me today was a series of events that highlight that infantile mentality.
1: I went to the cinema (to see Bad Santa), and came out in a foul mood. I couldn't even tell you if I enjoyed the movie as I was unable to hear most of it for the inane and conastant chatter of a group of teenage girls behind me. When I shushed them (just once) I was greeted with a barrage of abuse. I should have got up, left, complained, but I actually wanted to see the film.
2: Walking down the hill to the bus stop I saw two men, apparently friends (I surmised this from the women who appeared to be with them) screaming at each other and then one headbutted the other. This was at about 5pm.
3: On the bus, a crowd of young adults swearing loudly with no regard for the other passengers on the bus, smoking (which is allegedly banned on public transport), became rather boisterous and started shouting some football chant. When the bus driver, perfectly politely, asked them to calm down he was greeted with a torrent of sectarian abuse.

    On all three of these occasions, I heard passers by, other cinema goers and those on the bus to say that the perpetrators were stupid, didn't have two brain cells to rub together etc., but like Ms Greer I don't believe that's necessarily the case. I don't pretend to understand why people behave antisocially, rudely or violently. It can't just be selfishness can it?

There's a shortage of lard. Everybody Panic!

I mean, really. Cancel Christmas. Hog fat is in such high demand that there's a European lard shortage. The Lard Mountain is dwindling. Ha!

    Supermarkets such as Morrisons have been forced to display signs on shelves apologising for the lack of lard. Somerfield said it had already been forced to limit the number of tubs of lard on sale at each of its stores. It is advising customers to check their local stores to see if another delivery has arrived.

Get a grip.

    Being a vegan can be difficult. But some people canbe very stupid. Place those two facts in a foreign country and thingsstart to get a bit strange.    Most people know that vegans have a restricted diet,usually on ethical grounds. The vegan diet eschews all meat, fish anddairy produce. On principle of animal exploitation, most vegans willnot use honey, wool and waste products such as leather and feathers.All very well and good. Travelling abroad, or even within the UK can bea tricky procedure for even the most tolerant of vegans.    When looking for a holiday, the first thing mostpeople think about is the weather, the scenery and the activities theywish to experience. For the vegan this is compounded by the questions -will I be able to eat?  Will there be feathers in the pillows andwool in the blankets? It may seem ridiculous to those who have neverthought about it, but vegans are awkward and unnatural creatures. Theseare principles which aren't easily swayed.    The vegan lifestyle is rare enough to not even haveits own word in many languages and explaining or enquiring about veganoptions is nigh on impossible if you're not fluent in the locallanguage. The obvious choice would be to go self-catering, and this iscertainly what most vegans do. Self sacrifice may be part of thevegan psyche. They deny themselves many foods and everyday products forthe sake of their principles, so maybe the difficulty of finding asuitable holiday is just another obstacle to overcome.    Try explaining the vegan lifestyle to someone who'snot familiar with it and you quickly come across those silly littlequeries. "Can you eat potatoes?" Or, spot the deliberate mistake. "Doyou eat fish?"  Then there are those hidden animal by-products,the ones that most non-vegans aren't aware of. For instance - did youknow that many alcoholic drinks are filtered through fish bladders? Tryasking if your beer is vegan the next time you pop down to the local.Try it in France and they'll start throwing frogs legs at you. Whatabout chips? Think you're safe? What are they fried in? What are theyfried beside? Same pan as the fish? Well, they're not vegan then.    Some holiday destinations are more vegan friendlythan others. The Mediterranean, with its salads, fruit and vegetablesis a good choice for the fussy vegan eater. However, the addition ofcheeses to vegetarian salads and ham to just about everything can betricky. Fancy a trip to Iceland? Their traditional fare is based onseafoods, so it might be a bind to get what you want. Greece and theMiddle East are a good bet, all that hummus and  tabbouleh salad,but the vegan has to ensure a balanced diet or they run into trouble.    Next time you go on holiday consider the awkward,fussy vegan. How do they do it? Sheer obstinacy, that must be it.Potatoes? Yes - no butter please.

Sticks and stones may break my body, but words can tear me apart. (thanks Mr Hannon)

How many times have you heard someone say it's political correctness gone mad? I've heard it more times than I'd care to mention, and I rarely think it's justified. The way people use the words that available to them disappoints me more than I'd care to think about. Glasgow slang can be a great thing, with the inventive use of rhyming slang developing in parallel with that of Cockney. However, I'm referring to the constantly bigoted and divisive language used without a second thought every day by people of all ages, colours and creeds.

OK, here's an example. There's a theft, a minor item has been stolen - what's the response to this by the man on the street? Thieving gypsy bastards. Now why would someone say that? Gypsy, which in itself is a derogatory term, refers to a particular ethnic group, doesn't it? Would it be acceptable to say Thieving black bastards? I don't think Mr Bloggs on the street would say that unless he was a racist and lived in an area renowned for crime. But somehow, it is acceptable to use the word gypsy. Gets on my goat. Likewise, Paki. I'm going to the Paki's. Change that to I'm going to the Black's. Doesn't sound so innocent now, does it?

And then there's the underhand insults of hun and fenian, so often heard on the streets of Glasgow. Friends will rib each other using these words, aware of the meanings and perpetuating the division the words accentuate. People are often heard to say that they don't mean anything by these words, but how can a word with such resonance end up devoid of meaning? Glasgow, unfortunately suffers from similar levels of catholic-protestant bigotry to those found in Northern Ireland, and this is continued by the school system.

But that's another blog entry for another day.