party time (woohoo etc)

right! stormy and my avatar arrived at this blog at about the same time and that unusual conjunction of the planets must mean it’s time for a virtual party. i’ll hire the room and blow up the balloons (and if you knew of my fear of balloons you’d see how much you all mean to me if i do that – uggggh!).

you can claim your invite by logging on and commenting on this thread and you get to bring guests; you can suggest party games and activities, some music to play, what you might like to wear – you name it; the blog is officially liberty hall. i’ve checked with wordpress and they aren’t going to charge for numbers so you can each bring up to ten guests; feel free to hit other bloggers and invite them along; all i ask you to do is bring a dish of your own choosing to share with the happy throng; and because i am so kind and  like a bit of bitchery you each get one veto – you can ban anyone – but not someone who has already accepted or been put on a guestlist – that would just be nasty; and of course tell me exactly what i should order from the virtual drinks shop…

as a special incentive, my avatar is delighted to tell you he has  already booked the guest of honour and after dinner speaker: sheila jeffreys has very kindly agreed to join us and share with us her views on ‘cricket and the patriarchy’. i’m sure it will be fascinating. it’s going to be a wonderful (if virtual) occasion – don’t miss out…

storm in a hijab

in this blog’s great tadition of presenting the many thousand-year-old story as breaking news, (sadly we were rumbled by Aradhana) i return to the issue of the veiled muslim woman. if you thought i had exhausted the world’s supply of wisdom on this one, you were sadly mistaken…

let me paraphrase very roughly: a muslim classroom assistant was sacked for refusing to remove her hijab in class on the grounds that the children would not be able to understand what she was saying. i won’t allow our train of thought to deviate even slightly down the branch line that goes to ‘if we start sacking teachers when the kids don’t understand them, we will have some very empty schools’; i will however offer the wisdom of my vast experience, as a non-muslim non-woman, on the matter. well, every other member of that minority interest group has spoken out for truth and freedom, so why not me?

i was driving along the other day and even though i am a careful and respectful user of the road, i aroused the ire of a muslim woman driver in hijab (probably nearly crashed into her or some other such trifle – very excitable these people). i found it very easy despite best efforts of hijab, distance and my own rather murky windscreen to understand precisely what she thought of me, my driving and the whole subclass of people who potter around as if they owned the road. and not only could i not read her lips or expression, i couldn’t even hear what she was saying – and if the children in school couldn’t grasp that one it’s probably because they were too dim to find the bloody place.

by my empirical test, i therefore opine that a bit of hanky in front of her mouth would not in fact render a veiled woman magically incomprehensible and it’s even possible there might have been some other agenda going on. i am officially shocked!

live sex show

bugger! pigeons making out on my balcony – not sure if it’s sweet, emetic or heteronormative … damn you, confusing feminist thinkers!!!!

latest search engine term

ny favourite (of two) ‘he wishes for the cloths of heaven’

now that’s how you get nice traffic. none of that silly feminism stuff!

hitting my target market

the first recorded use of a search term to hit my site. i laugh at those of you who have such palatable ones as ‘virgin being raped anally by small cute fluffy duck’. here at ‘there’s a place for us’ we have a more refined searcher; a chap who despairs of having to put money into a capitalist’s pocket to see his birthright and wants to know how to ‘watch the ashes without sky sports’. gawd bless you, freind; a noble pursuit – and if you come across a good answer, do please let me know.

correction – aussie officials exactly what they used to be

of course, just when you think things are ok, someone opens their mouth and sorts it all out for you. in this case, the chief administrator of australian cricket pipes up to say he really doesn’t think this racism stuff is going to be a problem and when pressed to be specific about the man in the sydney crowd calling monty panesar a stupid indian, cleverly responds with ‘i don’t see a lot racist in that’.

no, i don’t suppose you do.

it brings to mind the time CLP was working on a job involving a certain very famous aussie test cricketer of the recent past; he was recording a voice-over that involved a reference to the pakistanis and it just wasn’t running to time; time for some smart thinking: ‘err couldn’t i could just say pakis’. Brave attempts all round not to choke. plus ca change…

and they’ll probably win the bloody ashes now.

blog back on track

it’s nice to see that after moving home and a flurry of welcome comments (not to mention comments of welcome) my page views per day have returned to their natural level in single figures. all is now officially well with the world and you can be sure that reading this you are either in a vast echoing chamber (the inside of my head most likely – a bit like ‘being john malkovitch’ without the unflattering haircuts), with someone who has stumbled on the wrong blog or among the select few. i leave it to you, my beloved regulars, to determine which of these applies to each of you.

maybe the improved stats on wordpress are not for tender souls like me. perhaps the ivory tower of the archfeminist at blogspot is where i should be spending my reclining years. i guess it depends which blog has sky sports so i can watch the ashes (i’m too mean to buy it myself and sufficiently dishonest to claim i’m too principled to put money in the pocket of the digger). i fear the answer is neither.

bugger.

aussies not what they used to be – official

As suspected, England cricketer Monty Panesar has been the subject of sickening racial abuse in Australia. In the latest match against New South Wales he was apparently called ‘a stupid Indian’ by a member of the crowd. His tormentor was later removed but not before he compounded matters with a stinging criticism of the amount of swivel in the plucky slow left-armer’s delivery stride. A NSW police spokesman later said: ‘We had a pretty stern word with the bloke about what he said and can confirm that we think Monty overswivels in his delivery stride too. And Freddie Flintoff definitely did eat all the pies.’

The Australians have vowed to subject England to a barrage of nasty comments – apart from Kevin Pietersen whom they think unlikely to understand any of it.

Goodness, if this is the kind of examination England’s cricketers will have to endure, they might as well go home now.

Oops! Marcus Trescothick already has.

world religions explained for the curious

i’ve been meaning to write about this for a while because it seems a new and enterprising way for religions to work:

Certain Dalits (formerly Untouchables, though that class has been ‘abolished’ by legislation – in much the same way that sexual inequality has been abolished by legislation in this country) in India have been less than impressed with the fact that the best anyone can offer them under Hinduism is the promise that if they are good this time they might get reincarnated as something higher-caste next time – like maybe a dung-beetle.

They have found a novel way out – conversion to Buddhism and its ‘you’re all equal’ philosophy. So they have been popping off to the monkish barbers in their thousands, having a quick haircut and Thubten Zopa Rinpoche’s yer uncle, rapid social mobility and a sudden freedom from some of the downsides of being untouchable like having your mother murdered and your buffalo nicked. Don’t tread on any insects and you’re as worthy a human being as the brahmin on the Seringapatham omnibus.

It really is happening; well it’s a more imaginative pitch than the rather staid old ‘eternal life’ offering from most religions.

sweet melancholy postman

reactions to my last post (”we do hope it is your last, mr wondered” wasn’t one of them) have left me quite moist at the eyes. the very fact that verging on 100% of my readership of err fourteen, fifty three, two hundred and eighty four thousand one hundred and nine, how many bits of butter…seventy eight…oh ok about 4, but look at the quality; people of discernment from all over the world from shiremoor to virginia to an undisclosed bunker in the east midlands (is it, witchy?) with rapid access to robin hood international airport to fight patriarchy in the cave in afghanistan where it now lurks… sorry where was I? (please don’t take away my ellipsis)…ahem

the fact that you have shown such warmth when we have only come across each other blogging says much about the power of this relatively new form of community and more about you – thanks for caring and saying you care.

recently one blogger has (probably) decided to stop blogging, perhaps for good, because she felt bullied and abused by comments. i have been bouyed beyond measure by the people i am beginning to know online. this is a powerful tool and can have more impact than we sometimes realise for good or ill. so as a thank you to my kind posters and a lesson for us to be gentle when we can, i offer a poem woooah hold on…

BLOODY HELL!!! a poem??? -

there’ll be pictures of cats and sneezing next. at least it isn’t one of mine. it’s well known – without being banal and if i may offer a blindingly obvious comment on it (checks with blog owner – yeah, fine mate, knock yourself out – cool) remember we are all in each other’s hands and we all have some measure of responsibility for the happiness of others. relish it…

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.