#EuropeanProblems

Solidarity is hard. Equality is hard. Justice is even harder. 

Yesterday, European leaders, including our Prime Minister David Cameron, marched in a walk of solidarity in France in a united stand against terrorism and in remembrance of the 17 murdered civilians in the Parisian terror attacks and hostages.
  It was called for. A public act that united nations and reassured us that the next people (and the harsh reality is that, this was not, and shall not be, an isolated attack) will have to contend with a less than unprepared government and, indeed, continent.
  It was, in my opinion, a beautiful act. It was needed. Everyone needed and wanted to know that they were safe and not alone. It was so so so important, but ... not the epitome of importance. We then had our mandatory reality check that often occurs in the wake of European tragedy. It was our little #EuropeanProblems. 

  In Nigeria, a photograph emerged of 2,000 civilians murdered in brutal attacks on the country. It's not that no one this side of the world cared, just that no one knew and, hence, no one was marching for them. 

  Atrocities like this are so common in some parts of the world that they almost occur and remain unnoticed in isolated incidences. It's only when they are collated that we can see the true extent of it.
  No one is ever intensely worried about starving children when they're ordering drinks at a night club. No one is ever thinking about gang rape at a Chelsea away game. No one is ever thinking about Guantanamo Bay whilst they're shopping at Westfields. We have to - consciously - force ourselves to think outside the sphere of 'me' and remember others. It's hard when there are so many things going on and we ought, sometimes, to think about things happening 'across the pond' - which ever pond that may be. 

  The caption under this Nigerian photo asked when there was going to be a solidarity march for these victims? 

  The answer: probably, never.  

Love Is All You Need

Now I'm older, it seems that all the world revolves around is love. Every song ever written seems to be falling in or out of love. Every book we read has, if not as the main plot, a subplot of love. Every film we watch includes a mandatory kiss. Love seems like its everything and, if you're single, this can be a pretty damning way of seeing the world: through the perfect and glossy rose-tinted specs of someone else. 
  Recently, I've come to expand my views on love. Rather than see it as integral for 'people my age' or as 'something that will happen if you wait long enough', I've tried to shift my view from finding love in a person to finding love in life. I'm not, at present, looking for the love of my life, but, rather, the love of life, itself. My desire to travel has recently and unexpectedly heightened and to go with it, I've began writing about my intentions to travel and uncover little rivers of life in different places. Maybe it sounds like I'm running away from my lack of love. But I know that, this time, I'm not. 

  But, of course, there are plenty of people actually looking for relationships and "The Undateables" is, quite possibly, the most humbling show that I have ever watched. 

  Undateable. It sounds incredibly derogatory and completely untrue. No one can be totally undateable. The word itself suggests love to be some kind of initiation. Once you've had a date: 'Congratulations! You're dateable.' It's like a trial: once you've had a date you get some more credits, some gold coins, and a certificate. (You don't.) 

  What would it mean if you were to die without have a date? If you were to die, undateable? Some people have never sucked a chocolate fondue through a straw. Others die without having done a sky dive. The vast majority of people haven't lived with Buddhist monks in Nepal. All of these things are fun. They're exhilarating and, the latter, is life-changing. But it's not 'social code' to do things like this. They're 'add on' experiences. Things that "Yeah, if I could/ had the time/ had the money/ wasn't so scared of ..." would be great things to say you've done. But you don't have to. 
  It seems that everyone has to do love. (Or at least, a date.)

  And so, it was for this very stubborn and constructed reason that I vowed I wouldn't watch "The Undateables". But as the advert popped up time and time again over Christmas, I began to realise how important and crucial love is to people's lives. Apart from being a great way to procrastinate and relax after revision, the series is just really really beautiful. It's one of those things that restores you're faith in humanity. It's something that makes you think differently about others. A show that demonstrates the true nature of love. Not everything is the hunky, fairytale one-click wonder moment. It is, very much, like a trial. Something quite remarkable. Something quite beautiful. Something that everyone, irrespective of whether they want it, needs. 

"Mummy, I want to get off!" - An Insight into Terrorism Today

As Mi5 warn of a British massacre carried out in the wake of the French murders and hostages that have rocked the nation over the past few days, I began to think that the war on terror isn't actually that: a war. 

  When a bully picks on a child in the playground: pushes him, steals his phone, throws away his homework, that is not a war. When the child retaliates: when he sticks up for himself, that is not a war, either. That's self-defence. 
  And, like a child getting back at a bully in the playground, the more that we react to and provoke terrorists or people with malicious intentions, the more they will come back. Reactions, the world works, among others things, upon reactions. 

  But I know that we can't sit back and do nothing. It's so important to be proactive. For the government to protect its people. But we have to do less of a something than we have been doing, but more of a nothing than I believe is necessary. 
  Incessant talking and evaluating our terror situation and threat levels makes us sound scared. But talks to change policy and implement sanctions makes us prepared. 
  With terrorism always on our mind, we potentially encourage the harmful behaviour which we seek to prevent. If I was a terrorist (which I am not), or even a person who was driven and harboured malicious thoughts to take the lives or even just scare other people, I believe that surprise would be the key element to an attack. And how can you surprise a people who seem to be exploring every avenue? You think of something new. Something unique. Something unthought-of. Surprise. 

  We need to tackle the issue on a quieter level rather than shouting, publishing and sharing our every advancement and failure. (Oh the irony!) Because I know that right now I'm doing nothing to help the case that I'm making but perhaps that's just it. Perhaps we just can't stop ourselves. Our lives have such a thirst for thoughts and we, as individuals, are so wrapped up with our own thoughts that we can seldom detach ourselves from them and think as an independent entity. 
  We need to keep our efforts low key, but at the same time, there are so many of us who demand, however subconsciously, to be kept abreast of our terror situation. People who, even though they don't consciously pursue the government's terror prevention efforts, are put at ease by being force-fed the headlines, which reassure us: 

Yes, it's ok. They do still care and they'll do anything to save us. 

  But why shouldn't we seek that reassurance? Why shouldn't we need it? Perhaps our answer lies in the knowledge that we should be able to live in a world free of terror. 

  Terrorism, for me, is a vulgar and cyclical practice. An de-humanising act, on so many levels, that continues to surround us like the mad eye of a stiff rearing horse on a children's fairground carousel. It will always, for now it seems, be a can of tinny and off-key music in our ears until, one day, we pray, that the melody stops. 

"No To Terrorism"  - taken from http://cdn.i24news.tv/

Sweet Freedom

Ahh, freedom! Sweet, sweet freedom! So beautiful, so elusive and also, the world's biggest oxymoron. Freedom governs our every action, so much so that it becomes the very force that constrains us. We want to be free to say what we want. We want to be free to share our thoughts. And we want to ensure that we are free from the implications of our actions. (Listening to Jeremy Vine this morning in light of the Parisian terrorist attack that happened earlier this week, this sequence of thought freedom seems particularly prevalent.) But our obsession with our freedom is around us in all forms. 

Freedom to love who we want, even if they're of the same sex. Freedom to be who we want and get a job that needs us. Freedom from our families. Freedom from the government. Freedom from technology. Freedom from cancer. 

There are constantly petitions for those of us who are deemed to have freedom of speech to save those who aren't. Us, the 'free people', the people who can say what we want ... only we can't. I agree: no one should be granted to make racist comments, to make rude and damaging remarks about other people's faiths or their sexual orientation. That shouldn't happen. But as a nation and even, as a race, we are absolutely and undeniably obsessed with being free. And herein lies our problem. 

We have a massive issue with the word 'free'. People have differing views of what it means to be free in varying contexts. But if we reduce the word to its bare skeleton it means 'to be unconstrained'. So, apply this in a context of 'dignity' - well, then we should all accept that it is perfectly normal for some of us to choose to strut off to Tesco's naked. If you have a problem with it, then you're not liberal enough. Apply this in the context of 'speech' and anyone can say whatever they want. 

Our problem is not with what we want from society. But what we seek to do is lump all our thoughts into one neat word that rolls of the tongue. 

'Free' is not it. 

Perhaps, instead we should call it 'impartiality' -  a word meaning fairness and equal treatment of people, which still upholds the principle of open-mindedness. Rather than 'freedom of speech', 'impartiality of speech'. It sounds better already. 

I wanted to start this year off with a blog post that meant something. I wanted to start with something along the lines my usual kind of list obsession but I felt this way was better. So, for 2015, I invite you all to give up your supposed freedoms. Not to imprison yourself and give up being free, but to be something different. Strive to be impartial.