Something occurred to me the other day (bear in mind this idea did occur to me when I was still half asleep in my bed!) that you know all these people that say they remember their past lives, or have been regressed..... Why are their past lives always in the same country you live in now...why not on the other side of the world? Surely your soul/spirit (?) doesn't take notice of lines drawn on a map? I could be wrong, maybe people do have memories of past lives in countries different to their own.
Not sure why I'm posting this, not even sure if I believe in reincarnation!
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Friday, September 17, 2004
ok, I just tried to change a light bulb, but I couldn't quite reach it properly even while standing on a small, dodgy stepladder. Anyhoo, had to tip the lampshade slightly, but then a screw fell out of the fitting when I took the old bulb out. Its now tipped at a funny angle. I don't want to die changing a light bulb. It really shouldnt be this complicated. I really can change a light bulb! No, really I can!
Damn my lack of height!
Damn my lack of height!
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Was looking up at the sky the other night. It dawns on me every now and again just how far away they all are, and that what we are looking at, isn't even how they look right now. We're seeing what they looked like hundreds or thousands(?) of years ago. By looking at the stars you're actually looking into the past in a way. Its amazing really :)
Monday, September 13, 2004
I read this in The Times today, thought most of it was pretty accurate :-)
...................................................................
Young Britain – nation of selves but not necessarily selfish
By Damian barr
ME, ME, ME. That’s what the iGeneration is all about. We are limited edition, exclusive and one-off. We are iPod-loving children of Thatcher. Our clothes are customised. Our hotels boutique. Even our bodies are bespoke. We put ourselves before our country and worship in gyms — not churches. We’re fit and, my gosh, don’t we know it.
Our Britain is a nation of selves. But this cult of the self is not necessarily selfish.
We’re actually very generous. Conveniently most charities now take plastic and for us, dropping change in a tin is more meaningful than popping a paper in a ballot box. As a form of direct action we rate donating over voting.
We’re equally generous when it comes to respect. We attach cache to being different. Monoculture is, like, so over — we love Christina Aguilera way more than all-American Britney. Each generation is, of course, more tolerant than the last. We feel Britain is more tolerant than ever. Which is why most — but crucially not all — of us are proud to be British.
Our parents reeled at that kiss in Corrie. But we wanted Todd and the hot male nurse to get it on. We mob Pride — not because we’re gay but because the music’s good. We believe in a woman’s right to choose and feel all couples should share the same rights. We kind of don’t get why they don’t already.
This year’s Big Brother final was the latest inter-generational face-off. Fun transsexual foreigner with big mouth versus dull straight man with big muscles. Nadia’s win was our triumph. Our parents were shocked to find oranges were not the only fruit and now teens are reading Julie Burchill’s Sugar Rush — a working-class lesbian teen romp. Tipping the shellsuit. No publisher would have dared take such a risk before now.
But contradiction is not just a scent by Calvin Klein. It is the other defining characteristic of the iGeneration. We’d legalise getting caned on cannabis while bringing back the cane. We believe in an after-life but avoid church (except for weddings). We owe more money than our parents did at our age but expect to be richer than them by the time we start going to bars where we can hear ourselves think.
Most of us have a close friend of a different colour and believe them trustworthy enough to marry. Yet less than half of us think immigration is a good thing. Age still brings with it experience. As the drunken 21st becomes a distant memory we switch from alcopops to wine and from theoretical ideals to practical principles. These are based more on events than emotions. Compared with our parents, we have had to deal with way more way sooner: sex, drugs and debt. Which is why we’re busy having a quarterlife crisis. Researching my book I found twenty-somethings looking and acting older than their years: a third claim to be putting one tenth of salary into a pension. More than half of us still believe it’s realistic to go through life with just one partner. Despite the fact that J-Lo has had more weddings than Madonna has had farewell tours. Still fewer women than men will admit to one-night stands.
And we’re oddly coy about online porn—just over half of us admit looking at it. This seems unlikely given that you can slip into a porn spiral by Googling something as innocent as a jug. It’s like saying you’ve never glanced at the top shelf in the newsagents. Only the really short or very blind can honestly claim this.
The self is absolutely at the centre of the iGeneration. But we’re not self-centred. We are a disparate demographic bound together by our individualism. We put on our own mask before helping others. Issues motivate us more than parties. We download singles not albums. So what if it is all about me? I like me. I just happen to like you too.
Damian Barr is author of Get It Together: Surviving Your Quarterlife Crisis
...................................................................
Young Britain – nation of selves but not necessarily selfish
By Damian barr
ME, ME, ME. That’s what the iGeneration is all about. We are limited edition, exclusive and one-off. We are iPod-loving children of Thatcher. Our clothes are customised. Our hotels boutique. Even our bodies are bespoke. We put ourselves before our country and worship in gyms — not churches. We’re fit and, my gosh, don’t we know it.
Our Britain is a nation of selves. But this cult of the self is not necessarily selfish.
We’re actually very generous. Conveniently most charities now take plastic and for us, dropping change in a tin is more meaningful than popping a paper in a ballot box. As a form of direct action we rate donating over voting.
We’re equally generous when it comes to respect. We attach cache to being different. Monoculture is, like, so over — we love Christina Aguilera way more than all-American Britney. Each generation is, of course, more tolerant than the last. We feel Britain is more tolerant than ever. Which is why most — but crucially not all — of us are proud to be British.
Our parents reeled at that kiss in Corrie. But we wanted Todd and the hot male nurse to get it on. We mob Pride — not because we’re gay but because the music’s good. We believe in a woman’s right to choose and feel all couples should share the same rights. We kind of don’t get why they don’t already.
This year’s Big Brother final was the latest inter-generational face-off. Fun transsexual foreigner with big mouth versus dull straight man with big muscles. Nadia’s win was our triumph. Our parents were shocked to find oranges were not the only fruit and now teens are reading Julie Burchill’s Sugar Rush — a working-class lesbian teen romp. Tipping the shellsuit. No publisher would have dared take such a risk before now.
But contradiction is not just a scent by Calvin Klein. It is the other defining characteristic of the iGeneration. We’d legalise getting caned on cannabis while bringing back the cane. We believe in an after-life but avoid church (except for weddings). We owe more money than our parents did at our age but expect to be richer than them by the time we start going to bars where we can hear ourselves think.
Most of us have a close friend of a different colour and believe them trustworthy enough to marry. Yet less than half of us think immigration is a good thing. Age still brings with it experience. As the drunken 21st becomes a distant memory we switch from alcopops to wine and from theoretical ideals to practical principles. These are based more on events than emotions. Compared with our parents, we have had to deal with way more way sooner: sex, drugs and debt. Which is why we’re busy having a quarterlife crisis. Researching my book I found twenty-somethings looking and acting older than their years: a third claim to be putting one tenth of salary into a pension. More than half of us still believe it’s realistic to go through life with just one partner. Despite the fact that J-Lo has had more weddings than Madonna has had farewell tours. Still fewer women than men will admit to one-night stands.
And we’re oddly coy about online porn—just over half of us admit looking at it. This seems unlikely given that you can slip into a porn spiral by Googling something as innocent as a jug. It’s like saying you’ve never glanced at the top shelf in the newsagents. Only the really short or very blind can honestly claim this.
The self is absolutely at the centre of the iGeneration. But we’re not self-centred. We are a disparate demographic bound together by our individualism. We put on our own mask before helping others. Issues motivate us more than parties. We download singles not albums. So what if it is all about me? I like me. I just happen to like you too.
Damian Barr is author of Get It Together: Surviving Your Quarterlife Crisis
Sunday, September 05, 2004
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