keepin’ it real since 1832

SF xxx

Keppin’ it real (ish)

SF xxx

Gem Mania – I want an infinate amount of these must order now!

have rediscovered the Toy Dolls – most people may know them for this song! Other Toy Dolls songs include ’I Got Asthma’ and ‘Deidre’s a Slag’. They are true punk ledgends

“We, the undersigned, call upon the Bishops of England and Wales and the Catholic Education Service to fulfil their duty as guardians of our Catholic Faith and unequivocally reject recent Government measures forcing Catholic schools to teach what is explicitly condemned by the Church, viz: presenting active homosexuality as an acceptable alternative lifestyle, and providing information on the nature – and provision – of contraception and abortion services. Compliance on the part of the Bishops and the CES in such measures would effectively render our schools no longer Catholic in any meaningful sense, and would place the faith and moral life of our children in jeopardy. As Catholic parents, teachers and pastors, we earnestly beg of you, our Shepherds in Christ, that you do not allow this to happen.

Sincerely – The Undersigned”

But before I start to tear this tissue of lies apart, I want to talk about sex. I enjoy sex – there I have said it, it’s a weight off my chest. I freely admit that I am filled with lust and desire for a cavalcade of naked man flesh (although if Monkey is reading this – it’s only ever him that I think about…) that surrounds us. I know that sex sells (I used to work for a company that did nothing but sell sex) it is one of the main points in the advertisers hand book, make people feel that they will be seen as being attractive by other people for either using or owning the product and you will be laughing all the way to the bank. At this point I’m sure that a few feminists will be pointing out that it is the objectification of women that is used to sell products; however over the last few years things have started to change as men are having to live up to the near impossible images that are being paraded around (just look at the trailers for the vile ‘Twilight’ films, women’s magazines and commercials and you get the idea). Is this right or wrong – well I would have to say a mixture of both. I know that if you had to adverts that were trying to selling me the same item and one used a himbo and the other used some vile, fat, arsehole (such as Jeremy Clarkson) I would have to go with the himbo – eye candy sells, a simple yet sad fact.

I had sex - with your mum!

So back to the main focus of this blog post…

Sex education in the UK is poor, really piss poor. We have one of the highest rates of STD infections in our teenage population, one of the lowest rates of use of contraceptives; abortion rates are high, as too is teen pregnancy. So something isn’t working. At the moment a parent can with draw their child from Sex Education (or PHSE) up to the age of 19 (yes, you can be old enough to have sex, vote, join the army and go to prison, but your parents can still withdraw you from a basic lesson on sex!). The law has recently changed to lower this down to 15. So to be fair it’s not really compulsory in any form of the word. Sex is the biggest and most important thing that we do as humans (without it crotch-less panties would never have been invented…), it is a core function of the human existence. Yet on average in the UK only 3-5 hours of lessons per year are given over to sex. Some would wrongly argue that parents are picking up the slack by sitting down and chatting to their kids about sex. Well you may have already guesses it but UK parents are the worst in Europe for talk about sex with their kids (In Holland parents will sit down and watch TV shows that frankly discuss sex – anal, BDSM, oral and even aural forms). So young people aren’t getting the right information at an early enough age? This could well be the case and recently the government introduced changes the way the sex and relationships would be taught to the young. The moral bastion of the nation *shudder* The Daily Mail reported this in its own special way and very recently the following headline ‘anger after class of seven-year-olds is shown ‘graphic sex cartoon’’ caused the loyal band of mail readers to froth at the mouth. I have seen the cartoon and to be honest if this is your idea of graphic then you may not want to read page 3 of the Sun (if you want to make up your own mind you can watch the video here – http://www.teachers.tv/video/367) I was more worried about the fact that they are making light of the fact that ‘ginger men with glasses’ could be in a relationship…  

Notable (?) group; Family Education Trust argues there is no evidence that teenage pregnancy rates are reduced by starting sex education at an early age. Except, if you look at the Dutch where, early age sex education and a frank, honest and (most importantly) a grown up attitude to sex has resulted in Europe’s lowest rate of teen pregnancy. Swivel on that!  

I'm all about the hot man love!

Now lets talk about the one think that can make the average Daily Mail reader’s head implode – gay sex… but first a few facts:

•Almost two thirds (65 per cent) of young lesbian, gay and bisexual people experience homophobic bullying in Britain’s schools (Stonewall, School Report 2007).

•Seventy five per cent of young gay people in faith schools experience homophobic bullying and are less likely than pupils in other schools to report it (Stonewall, The School Report 2007).

•Of those who have been bullied, 92 per cent have experienced verbal homophobic bullying, 41 per cent physical bullying and 17 per cent death threats (Stonewall, The School Report 2007).

•The School Report 2007 shows that lesbian, gay and bisexual pupils can experience homophobic bullying ranging from verbal abuse to death threats. Those who are bullied experience the following: Verbal abuse 92%, Malicious gossip 76%, Intimidating looks 62%, Ignored and isolated 58%, Cyberbullying 41%, Physical abuse 41%, Vandalism and theft of property 30%, Death threats 17%, Threatened with a weapon 13% and Sexual assault 12%.

But here is the most worrying statistic from the research – LGBT youth are two to three times more likely to attempt suicide than other young people.  

So what can be done to help counter this? Well the latest PHSE courses would have started to include same sex relationships from the age of 9-11 (as in ‘some people are gay…’ NOT as many reports are claiming ‘the moustached top puts on a gimp mask and…’). However due to some, and for some please read the religious (see above petition details) have successfully petitioned to allow all faith schools the option to teach dogma (gays are bad and sinful and you will die if you are an evil homosexual) rather than facts (Gays are fabulous/Glittery and are great at shopping* and Lesbians wear sturdy shoes and smoke pipes).

Dirty, dirty deer

As far as I can see; current sex education lessons would only gain an ‘E’ grade for heterosexual students and a ‘U’ for LGBT students. This isn’t good enough, sex should not be taught based on religious dogma; parents should not have the right to screw up their children just because they have never had or enjoyed sex (children are obviously delivered by stalk or found under seasonally fruiting bushes). We (as a nation) need to get over our puerile and smutty attitude to sex. But the biggest and most important thing – we need to stop believing the hype and scare stories that a select bunch of newspapers use to feed the minds of those that should know better!

I can now feel the rage subsiding in my body, remember kids – if your going to indulge in hanky panky – do it safe and do it right!

SF xxx

 *sadly for the record I am neither fabulous nor glittery in the gay sense of the word (I don’t like Madonna or Lady GaGa and think that Kyle needs to put some weight on!) and can’t stand shopping. So that throws a spanner in the works for Gay Rights!

Please donate to Viva! by clicking here

Below is information from Viva! about this latest campaign. If you are not a member of Viva! I would urge you to join them…

Last year we asked you for funds to finance our undercover teams’ investigation into the lives and deaths of ducks. You provided it and we did it. Spearheading the team was our undercover investigator who secreted a camera in the company overalls to fi lm everything that happens inside one of Europe’s biggest duck producers. They supply supermarkets such as Sainsbury’s and kill birds for the RSPCA’s so-called Freedom Foods assurance scheme.

In an incredibly brave operation, our investigator had to be constantly vigilant not to be caught filming, always needed a prepared excuse to be in certain parts of the factory, had to be careful not to ask too many questions.

We have now finished viewing and editing the hours of harrowing footage obtained. It records the entire cycle of death to which 15 million UK ducks are subjected each year – from their arrival in crates to their despatch in plastic wrappers.

The footage starts with the crates of ducks, one piled on top of another, being ferried by fork-lift truck to the start of a noisy, clanking, impersonal, mechanical production line of death where people shout to be heard. The birds are subdued and appear confused as this is the fi rst time that many of them have seen daylight or felt fresh air. Until now, most of the birds have had their lives circumscribed by the four walls of a stinking shed.

The panic begins as they are grabbed from the crates and their legs are slammed into the dangling shackles of a constantly moving conveyor with not a space between them.

The people doing the shackling look like aliens – cloaked from head to toe, their faces hidden by breathing equipment and goggles.

The distressed noise of the ducks’ quacking now swells to a crescendo and almost drowns out the sound of the machinery.

The conveyor moves relentlessly along, the ducks flapping and calling out in fear while a human voice can be heard shouting to the aliens: “Faster, faster!” The aliens increase their speed, grabbing more birds from the crates and slamming them into the shackles, one after another like automatons. This is what they do all day long every day.

In their rush to keep up production, several birds are dropped on the floor and they run to cower against the impersonal metal of the machinery. They look utterly bewildered and huddle together. Their reprieve is short lived as, without a second thought, the aliens grab them and thrust them into the shackles. One of the men pauses before doing so, thrusting the duck towards the face of our investigator, directly at the hidden camera. This is what passes for humour in the death factory.

The line of ducks and their filthy breast feathers clanks up and away into the depths of the building, the birds flapping and calling out until they disappear behind a screen.

When they emerge the other side they are silent and still, water dripping from their beaks. They have been electrocuted in a charged water bath.

A worker awaits by a blood-soaked trough with a small, sharp knife in his hand and assiduously cuts the throat of every passing bird.

Clank, clank, clank – the conveyor continues, dipping the little bodies into scalding water before they enter an enclosed box where rotating rubber fingers flail the feathers from them. They emerge pathetic looking and utterly naked.

Clank, clank, clank – the bodies enter a piece of machinery which someone proudly designed for this specific purpose; it holds the bird’s body still while stretching the neck to a point where the head is torn off.

The eviscerator also relies on technology – a pneumatic wand. He sucks out the intestines with it and then reverses the procedure, spitting them into a bin. Suck, spit; suck, spit all day long.

The sequel to this relentless nightmare is an end product devoid of all that went before. A taut plastic bag morphing body, wings and legs into an unidentifi able ball of flesh.

A union jack and a Freedom Foods symbol try to imbue it with a ridiculous sense of pride and printed words turn factory farming into poetry: “Willow Farm ducks live in spacious straw bedded barns where they are free to roam”. Free to roam from one wall to another!

This then is duck slaughter in Britain today. We want people to know about it. We have edited together a short film on which patron and actor Martin Shaw will do the voice over. A sympathetic ad agency is making an ad free of charge, again with Martin doing the voiceover. We want it aired.

We need both to cover the country through social networking sites and we hope our supporters will email everyone in their address book! We need to target potential duck eaters with Viva! literature and we have to keep up our pressure on the UK media to ensure that consumers see past the words on the packaging.

Please again support our campaign – a campaign which has been spectacularly successful so far, with duck deaths crashing from 22 million to 15 million a year. Please give what you can so we can continue to expose the barbarity of modern duck ‘farming’ and continue with our determination to show what life – and death – is like for these beautiful, essentially wild animals.

Viva! Will never stop fighting cruelty to these animals.

FACTORY FARMING – IT’S GOTTA GO.

Sadly the lady passed away today after a very breif illness. She will be missed.

The Lady 10-2007 – 03-2010

*cough*

SF xxx

After months of wrangling and constant badgering (and plenty of light weasling), Monkey had convinced his mother that she wanted to take Monkey and me to go and see the Northern Lights. As a result of the impending trip to the far North (I would say the extreme North but I have been to Rotherham and the harsh desolation, cold grey skies and pale ghost like people make a Finish winter seam quite nice). Monkey and I both needed to get new passports. Now this would be only my second passport in the whole of my adult life; flicking through my old passports revelled what a prolific traveller I have been since 1997 (this excludes all the trips to Europe as they never stamp your passport – shame) I think I may well have racked up well over 150,000 air miles in 10 years. This is mostly due to the 7 journeys to New York (there and back) in 2000/2001, 2 trips to see my sister in New Zealand (both in 2003), 2 trips to San Francisco (2002 and 2003) a trip to Sydney (2004) which has resulted in a carbon footprint the size of a minor celebrity. Monkey on the other hand hasn’t had a passport as an adult so we had to find his birth certificate (I had always assumed that he was hatched?) and both of us needed to get photos taken. I don’t think that I have ever had a decent passport photo, I came out looking like a crime watch photo fit and Monkey ended up looking just like one of the classic cereal killers (sugar puffs) of yester year.

So we now have passports, tickets have been booked and thermal long-johns have been purchased. vegan food had been pre ordered for the hotel and I have opted to take a selection of nibbles just in case I end up being offered nothing but luke warm rice and chicken (trust me that has happened as I was assured that ‘Chicken is not meat!’ on a week long trip to Spain) so we had taken a litre of soya milk, Cheesly and a selection of vegan chocolate.

So after travelling to the airport and checking in, the holiday had begun. The flight was 3 hours (with loads of small screaming kids and pretentious middle class parents taking them skiing – sounds such as ‘Tarka would you please stop that’ where common chants during the flight) so we arrive in Finland after being delayed for an hour so we arrived at 9pm (we left at 4pm UK time and Finland is 2 hours ahead). Once we had disembarked we filled through to collect our bags and found out that only 8 people would be taking the 2 and a half hour trip to Karesuando (Summer population 350, Winter population 150). Now it was cold outside, to be honest even I wasn’t expecting it to be that cold (OK so we are 300 miles into the Artic Circle, but I was expecting a balmy -5 oC but oh no we had -33oC) and the journey in a Land Rover with broken heaters (my feet went numb after about 5 mins but from my hips upwards I was sweltering) The air was so cold that it made you cough ever time you left a warm area and yes I did end up with icicles on my stubble. After what felt like an age; we arrived in the tiny city town village of Karesuando and seeing as it was almost 11.30 and all I wanted to do is sleep.

We where staying in a cabin (an idyllic log cabin, that sadly smelt of cooked cabbage and had a bathroom door that wouldn’t lock!) and even had a sauna in the bathroom (how very Scandinavian of them). As we got ready for bed we found out that the bag containing (mostly) my clothes and the soya milk had not been very lucky – the pool of soya milk at the base of the bag and the soya covered clothes hinted at this…

Over the next few days my fears about not having anything to eat where allayed and they provided a wide range of rice based dishes for me to eat (although by the end of the week I could not look at another rice based dish again). On a day out in the village we found that the local petrol station sold not only soya milk but also oat milk as well (and we are 300 miles into the arctic circle) we also popped over the bridge to the other part of the town (one half of the village is on the Finish side and if you cross the bridge you have the other half which is Swedish) to the local supermarket – I almost cried when I found 3 more types of soya and oat milk, oat cream and 2 types of vegan ice cream! I would also recommend to any one who is gluten intolerant as the local supermarket has a huge selection of gluten free foods (as well as health food as well).

We had a number of things that we had been booked on as part of the tour (I had already stated that I was uncomfortable with partaking in the midnight Husky ride) so we went snow-showing (in waste deep snow – yes we spent more time face down in the snow then walking!), a trip to meet the local Sami people and learn about their culture and heritage and lots of sledging (once again I ended up face first in the snow on more than one occasion).

The highlight of the trip was the skidooing trip to hunt for the elusive ‘Northern Lights’, Monkey drove – I was his be-atch (not for the first time!) and we set off into the night. It was really cold (-49.8 oC) and after an hour on the back of the Skidoo my face had frozen with frozen tears and icicles on my beard. We stopped to enjoy the night sky (I haven’t seen the sky this dark since I was in New Zealand) it was truly beautiful; we could even see the spiral arm of the Milky Way. It was worth making the trip just for the night’s sky, but just on queue the ‘Northern Lights’ started, dancing and gliding across the sky. We hadn’t expected to see a green glow that many people associate with the ‘Lights’ partially because the solar activity was really low (the reason for the ‘Lights’) so getting any form of activity was fantastic.

I have enjoyed my time in the frozen north and I would recommend it to anyone who is looking for a different type of holiday.

Pokémon – Gotta Catch ‘Em All

SF xxx