How do you know if someone is a vegan?
Don't worry. They'll tell you. And they'll probably tell you again. And just as you're leaving, they'll probably mention it again.
How do you know if someone is an anti-Semite?
Don't worry. They'll tell you. Not by using those exact words, that would be too simple. You have to work it out by reading between the lines of their obsession with and hatred of all things Israel. You have to decipher the criticism of anything Israel does but sure enough, once you have done that, there it will be. A hatred bordering on the irrational. An obsession bordering on the psychotic.
I recently stumbled across an article in Warwick's Globalist. You can read it here. Since I left Warwick last year, I've stumbled across articles in the Globalist that have increasingly left me shaking my head. This one is no different. Vegan-washing is the latest accusation thrown at Israel and, presumably, "pro-Israel" activists. That somehow anyone who happens to note Israel's animal rights record is not just noting Israel's animal rights record. No, instead, it is some cynical ploy to divert attention from war crimes and occupation and all these other charges levelled against Israel.
This is an interesting, if bizarre, assertion. Let's deal with it point by point:
First, the author links us to a BBC radio show, aired during 'Veganuary'. Let's not forget what Veganuary is. A month about Veganism and raising awareness and encouraging people to attempt it for a month and, presumably, continue beyond. It is not a month about Israeli war crimes. Or the IDF's "illegal and brutal occupation". Or "illegal settlements". No, believe it or not, it is a month about Veganism. It is not, then, at all surprising that the BBC should run a piece about Veganism. It is not surprising that it should do so and interview an Israeli. And, lastly, it is not surprising that it should run a piece about Veganism, interview an Israeli and choose to focus on Veganism. In fact, the opposite would have been surprising. Imagine the following:
RADIO PRESENTER: Welcome to today's show on Veganism in the IDF
ISRAELI: Hello, thanks for having me
RP: First, can you please explain to my why you are engaged in a brutal and, should I also say, illegal occupation of Palestine?
I: Sorry, what?
RP: Do you personally believe all Gazans should be murdered or do you just act on orders?
I: Erm...
RP: Please, all my listeners who have tuned in to hear about Veganism would like to know if you support the mass displacement and murder of Palestinians. Oh and that illegal occupation. Have I mentioned that yet? Because on this show about veganism, I'd be damned if I don't discuss the occupation.
Do me a favour. A show about Veganism, in a month dedicated to Veganism, is not vegan-washing if it discusses, wait for it, Veganism.
Second, the author, in making the claim about 'the media' links us to, The Times of Israel, Ha'aretz and the BBC, amongst others. I could easily have found links on these websites condemning Israel for all of the charges the author levels. Accusing 'the media' of vegan-washing by publishing articles on Veganism but not mentioning the occupation would be as absurd as me publishing an entire article condemning the BBC for reporting an Israeli strike on Gaza and not mentioning the fact that my cousin's next door neighbour's cat is a vegan. (For the record, I have no idea if my cousin's next door neighbour's cat is vegan, but I presume, as part of the Israeli PR machine, if s/he isn't, s/he will be shortly.)
Third, the author condemns organisations like PETA for 'flocking to commend Israel for championing the vegan movement'. As if it is a crime for an animal rights organisation to maybe suggest that other armies should be more vegan-friendly. Trust me, you can call for armies to be more vegan-friendly, like the IDF, and condemn an occupation. I presume the author believes that PETA should add a caveat: Please be more vegan-friendly, but do us a favour and don't also brutally occupy Palestine. To support the IDF for its vegan-friendly attitude is not to devalue the Palestinian cause or plight. One can both praise the IDF for being vegan-friendly and either a) remember you're an animal rights organisation and steer clear of political conflicts that have nothing to do with you and/or b) support the Palestinian cause.
Fourth, the Times of Israel is accused of arguing that being a vegan is somehow written into Jewish Law. To argue that because of the prohibition on mixing MEAT and milk, Jews are more accepting of substitutes is not to suggest that 'accommodating a vegan diet is somehow written into Jewish religious constitution'. Read the sentence again. Mixing meat and milk. The prohibition is on the mixing of the two, not the eating of either. The assertion being made is that Jews are used to milk substitutes, which is true. Many Israeli/Kosher desserts do not contain milk - ironically, given the author's accusation, because of our preference as a culture for meat meals. Find me a non-kosher, milk containing dessert and I will show you a milk-free Kosher version. It is remarkably easy to give up milk as a Jew. (Until Shavuot when we are basically obligated to indulge in as much cheese as possible.) To point this out is not to say that being a vegan is written into Jewish Law, but rather than from the starting point of having an abundance of milk-free desserts, becoming a vegan is easier. The J-Post article is absurd. I reject its contents for exactly the same reason I reject the content of the Globalist article, ironically.
Finally, the author ends in typical fashion for an article of this type. We get an: "I am sure Israelis do not support the occupation" and an: "I am sure the vegans in Israel have honourable intentions". G_D forbid the Israeli media report this. G_D forbid the IDF accommodates this. G_D forbid, indeed. No, apparently, doing this is just a cynical attempt to deflect attention from war crimes. When the Israeli media reports that there are Israeli vegans, it is not reporting a mere fact, it is deflecting attention from the occupation it reported in other articles. When the IDF accommodates vegans, it is not just accommodating vegans, it is making the argument, "We must be a good army, we make it easy for vegans to kill Palestinians too."
Israel either kills Palestinians and brutally occupies their land or deflects attention from this fact. Israelis who are vegans might have honourable intentions, indeed, they might even do the honourable thing and object to the occupation and all the other things I, the self-appointed authority on morality, think are terrible. However, we cannot discount the fact that they might just be doing it to deflect attention from Israeli war crimes.
This is the argument being made. It is an argument as illogical as it is wrong; as hateful as it is misguided. It is an argument that makes it impossible for an Israeli to be coherently a vegan. I mean, they might have opposing political views to you. Shudder at the thought. And it is an argument that whispers anti-Semitism as quietly as possible, hoping the screams of I am just pro-Palestinian and engaging in legitimate criticism of Israel where she can do no right, only wrong will drown out the whispers. Not this time Clare, not this time.
Wednesday, 30 March 2016
Thursday, 17 March 2016
Paris, Ankara and Moral Hypocrisy
I was one of the many who, with the best of intentions, changed their profile picture in response to the tragic events in Paris last November. I also posted a status, furiously dismissing allegations of moral inconsistency or hypocrisy when it came to our response to Paris compared with, for example, Beirut. I was livid that somehow what was important in the wreckage of the Paris attacks was whether I had changed my profile picture to a Lebanese flag. I think it is possible for me to think that the Paris attacks are tragic but also think that the Beirut attack was tragic at the same time, whether or not I change my profile picture for both or neither or just the one. And guess what, I did. I can do this amazing thing where I give a damn about innocent people dying everywhere in the world whenever I hear about it.
I wish Facebook had stayed completely out of it. I was the first to admit to friends that evening that the reason I changed my profile picture, or at least part of it, was because when you change it back, there is a chance for extra likes. Had Facebook given me the option to change it for Beirut or any other country, then I probably would have. Which brings me to now and an article I saw pop up on my Facebook by someone I have seen but never met and heard speak but never spoken to. It was about Ankara and the tragic events that unfolded there. The basic premise is this: I am a terrible person because I changed my profile picture back in November but I have not now. That, for me, brown lives matter less. I agree with the author in part. Once Facebook has started giving us this option to change profile pictures, it seems odd to pick and choose. We should have had the Ivorian flag option. We should have daily Iraq flag options. Heck, we should have an Israeli flag option. And yes, we should have had the Ankara flag option. There would be an almost endless stream of profile-picture-changing-opportunities, every time humans prove their capacity for complete and utter inhumanity...Ping. Another Facebook prompt. Rather, Facebook should back off. I hope not giving me the Ankara option is the beginning of a change in policy, is Facebook stopping this absurd foray into current affairs.
But back to the article in question. I reject its central premise. I can guarantee the author that I do not devalue 'brown' lives. I do not think the events that unfolded in Ankara are any less tragic, shocking, disgusting and so on than those in Paris. I mourn the loss of innocents in Turkey. The loss of innocents in the Ivory Coast. The loss of innocents everywhere. I am sure no one would question me on this. The point being made is more subtle. It is not that I do not care. It is that I care more about white lives than brown lives. The author is, of course, correct, as I have said, that it is wrong that Facebook has not allowed the Ankara option. But he is wrong to then jump to this endorsing a narrative of white supremacy and imperialism.
He is wrong because if he is correct, he is guilty of it himself. When he tells us which lives we have no intention of devaluing, he makes a curious inclusion and curious omission. That being the inclusion of Palestinian and the omission of Israeli. The inclusion and omission would have been equally curious the other way round, of course. But to mention one and not the other, on the author's own logic, is to be guilty of devaluing the lives of Israelis, Jewish and Arab, currently being taken with a brutal regularity by terrorism in Israel. Obviously, the author is under no obligation to mention every single group of people whose lives are being taken but not represented in social media coverage. That would be absurd. But to specifically mention Palestinian lives and not Israeli is as wrong as it would have been had he mentioned specifically Israeli lives and not Palestinian.
I am willing to give the author the benefit of the doubt. He does not mean to devalue the lives of Israelis. He mourns equally the deaths of innocent Israelis as he does those in Ankara, despite his neglecting to mention it. Perhaps he should climb down from the moral high ground and give the rest of us the benefit of the doubt too?
I wish Facebook had stayed completely out of it. I was the first to admit to friends that evening that the reason I changed my profile picture, or at least part of it, was because when you change it back, there is a chance for extra likes. Had Facebook given me the option to change it for Beirut or any other country, then I probably would have. Which brings me to now and an article I saw pop up on my Facebook by someone I have seen but never met and heard speak but never spoken to. It was about Ankara and the tragic events that unfolded there. The basic premise is this: I am a terrible person because I changed my profile picture back in November but I have not now. That, for me, brown lives matter less. I agree with the author in part. Once Facebook has started giving us this option to change profile pictures, it seems odd to pick and choose. We should have had the Ivorian flag option. We should have daily Iraq flag options. Heck, we should have an Israeli flag option. And yes, we should have had the Ankara flag option. There would be an almost endless stream of profile-picture-changing-opportunities, every time humans prove their capacity for complete and utter inhumanity...Ping. Another Facebook prompt. Rather, Facebook should back off. I hope not giving me the Ankara option is the beginning of a change in policy, is Facebook stopping this absurd foray into current affairs.
But back to the article in question. I reject its central premise. I can guarantee the author that I do not devalue 'brown' lives. I do not think the events that unfolded in Ankara are any less tragic, shocking, disgusting and so on than those in Paris. I mourn the loss of innocents in Turkey. The loss of innocents in the Ivory Coast. The loss of innocents everywhere. I am sure no one would question me on this. The point being made is more subtle. It is not that I do not care. It is that I care more about white lives than brown lives. The author is, of course, correct, as I have said, that it is wrong that Facebook has not allowed the Ankara option. But he is wrong to then jump to this endorsing a narrative of white supremacy and imperialism.
He is wrong because if he is correct, he is guilty of it himself. When he tells us which lives we have no intention of devaluing, he makes a curious inclusion and curious omission. That being the inclusion of Palestinian and the omission of Israeli. The inclusion and omission would have been equally curious the other way round, of course. But to mention one and not the other, on the author's own logic, is to be guilty of devaluing the lives of Israelis, Jewish and Arab, currently being taken with a brutal regularity by terrorism in Israel. Obviously, the author is under no obligation to mention every single group of people whose lives are being taken but not represented in social media coverage. That would be absurd. But to specifically mention Palestinian lives and not Israeli is as wrong as it would have been had he mentioned specifically Israeli lives and not Palestinian.
I am willing to give the author the benefit of the doubt. He does not mean to devalue the lives of Israelis. He mourns equally the deaths of innocent Israelis as he does those in Ankara, despite his neglecting to mention it. Perhaps he should climb down from the moral high ground and give the rest of us the benefit of the doubt too?
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
Breaking the Stigma
It's hard not to let something like anxiety define who you are. It's hard because it begins to take over your life, from parents who are so concerned they seem to serve merely as a reminder that something is wrong rather than a comfort to the demands made of you by a therapist whether that be filling in behavioural chain analysis forms in-between meetings or just trying to remember certain feelings you have had. It's hard because it's difficult to separate yourself from that person who suffered from a panic attack or anxiety or, in my case, lost his voice. It's difficult to convince yourself that it's okay now. Or that you're through the worst of it. Not just because there are no guarantees that you are. There are constant reminders. The sudden feeling of not being able to breathe or forgetting the word you wanted to say and it feeling like a stutter. Or just feeling a bit panicky and worrying, for a split second, that this feels like the last time.
They all serve as constant reminders that you are less than perfect but less than perfect in a way that is not seen as normal. Because we are all not perfect, that goes without saying. But some imperfections are more acceptable than others. Some imperfections are more understood than others. Some imperfections are just more "normal" than others, in the figurative sense of the word. Because mental health issues are normal. They are common and vast numbers of us will suffer from mental health issues at some point in our lives. But, for some reason, it is not a normal imperfection. Mental health issues are not fully understood, hardly productively discussed and rarely effectively engaged with as an issue. Despite how common they are. And by less than perfect, I include, of course, just not good enough. A feeling that somehow being depressed or having anxiety or suffering from panic attack means you just are not good enough.
I saw and shared a post on Facebook recently that neatly sums this up. Its caption was the following quotation from Kevin Breel:
"We live in a world where if you break your arm, everyone runs over to sign your cast, but if you tell people you're depressed, everyone runs the other way. That's the stigma. We are so, so so accepting of any body breaking down other than our brains. And that's ignorance. That's pure ignorance, and that ignorance has created a world that doesn't understand depress, that doesn't understand mental health. And that's ironic to me, because depression is one of the best-documented problems we have in the world, yet it's one of the least discussed. We just push it aside and put it in a corner and pretend it's not there and hope it'll fix itself"
It won't fix itself. If you suffer from mental health, you know that from experience. I had my first notable panic attack in America last June. I am still receiving bills and payment requests from American hospitals. I have had three or perhaps even four or five since, each of varying degrees of seriousness. I've been in hospitals, I've seen doctors, I've been prescribed medication, I've been told my stutter is related to anxiety, I've been told the exact opposite. I've sat with a GP who seemed that she could not care less that someone was sat in front of her reduced to communicating by writing down what he wanted to say. I forget the time of my appointment, but I can only imagine it was just before lunch time and she was especially hungry because I have never been rushed out of a room with such fervour. Despite meeting with her over 4 weeks ago, I still have not been contacted by the NHS Mental Health Service, which probably says just as much about the lack of funding as it does about the ignorance about the immediacy of these problems.
I've been lucky to have had people who did not run in the other direction, who were very much there and maybe they did not understand, but that they tried was more than enough. Some people are not so lucky. That needs to change. If you ever need someone to listen to you or to talk to or heck, you just need someone to sit with you, then please just message me. Anytime.
I will leave you with some words from Stephen Fry:
"If you know someone who's depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn't a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like the weather.
Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness and loneliness they're going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It's hard to be a friend to someone who's depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest and best things you will ever do."
They all serve as constant reminders that you are less than perfect but less than perfect in a way that is not seen as normal. Because we are all not perfect, that goes without saying. But some imperfections are more acceptable than others. Some imperfections are more understood than others. Some imperfections are just more "normal" than others, in the figurative sense of the word. Because mental health issues are normal. They are common and vast numbers of us will suffer from mental health issues at some point in our lives. But, for some reason, it is not a normal imperfection. Mental health issues are not fully understood, hardly productively discussed and rarely effectively engaged with as an issue. Despite how common they are. And by less than perfect, I include, of course, just not good enough. A feeling that somehow being depressed or having anxiety or suffering from panic attack means you just are not good enough.
I saw and shared a post on Facebook recently that neatly sums this up. Its caption was the following quotation from Kevin Breel:
"We live in a world where if you break your arm, everyone runs over to sign your cast, but if you tell people you're depressed, everyone runs the other way. That's the stigma. We are so, so so accepting of any body breaking down other than our brains. And that's ignorance. That's pure ignorance, and that ignorance has created a world that doesn't understand depress, that doesn't understand mental health. And that's ironic to me, because depression is one of the best-documented problems we have in the world, yet it's one of the least discussed. We just push it aside and put it in a corner and pretend it's not there and hope it'll fix itself"
It won't fix itself. If you suffer from mental health, you know that from experience. I had my first notable panic attack in America last June. I am still receiving bills and payment requests from American hospitals. I have had three or perhaps even four or five since, each of varying degrees of seriousness. I've been in hospitals, I've seen doctors, I've been prescribed medication, I've been told my stutter is related to anxiety, I've been told the exact opposite. I've sat with a GP who seemed that she could not care less that someone was sat in front of her reduced to communicating by writing down what he wanted to say. I forget the time of my appointment, but I can only imagine it was just before lunch time and she was especially hungry because I have never been rushed out of a room with such fervour. Despite meeting with her over 4 weeks ago, I still have not been contacted by the NHS Mental Health Service, which probably says just as much about the lack of funding as it does about the ignorance about the immediacy of these problems.
I've been lucky to have had people who did not run in the other direction, who were very much there and maybe they did not understand, but that they tried was more than enough. Some people are not so lucky. That needs to change. If you ever need someone to listen to you or to talk to or heck, you just need someone to sit with you, then please just message me. Anytime.
I will leave you with some words from Stephen Fry:
"If you know someone who's depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn't a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like the weather.
Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness and loneliness they're going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It's hard to be a friend to someone who's depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest and best things you will ever do."
Sunday, 21 February 2016
YAY
On the way to Shul yesterday, I felt a twinge of confidence in my voice. A twinge that I'd felt before, but I was determined it would have a different outcome this time. I was greeted by a friend and my first words, stuttered but words nonetheless, in almost two weeks were "I can speak". Hardly profound but the genuine unbridled joy on this person's face is something that will stay with me. It grew from there and 30 minutes later only the required silence between the washing of hands and hearing Hamotzi could stop me.
People were surprised, sure, but they were delighted too, which meant and means so much to me. The chaplains' kid turned to his dad and announced I could talk, he asked me 30 minutes later if I could still talk and smiled when I replied that I could. He has also confirmed that I can come visit him in Israel, which made me very happy too. Friends smiled and proclaimed how happy they were to hear my voice. A group of us had a LeChaim. I felt amazing, I still feel amazing, those moments after regaining speech are ones I will treasure as is the rest of the day spent in Shul. I had a a whole post planned about the answer to a question people asked, which was how it felt. I'm not going to bother. I'd be delighted to tell you how it felt, honestly, but this is a happy post and I intend to keep it happy.
So, in that vein, a thank you, a comment about Jewishness and small quip:
To anyone who has sat with me, listened to me stutter or tried to interpret my gestures when I couldn't talk. To anyone who had the patience to try and communicate with me. To those who went above and beyond to look after me. To anyone who sent me a message checking up on me or letting me know they hoped I would speak soon. To the many people who did so much for me this week. To everyone who seemed so genuinely happy to hear me speak.
Honestly, it meant the absolute world to me and I know I'd still be ordering Starbucks via note and needing to explain to the barista that I don't have a sore throat and don't need chai tea. You helped me through it, got me through it and I am and will be eternally grateful.
I phoned my parents after Shabbat to let them know. My Dad, though obviously delighted, was very interested in the mechanics of how it came back and kept proclaiming how weird the brain was. My Mum was swept up in raw emotion. Speaking to her (ironically I couldn't get a word in edgeways) has become one of the best moments of my life, hearing the relief and joy in her voice is something I will treasure. She told me that I didn't know how many Shul's in Israel were praying for me after she told my uncle and it made me realise how important this small Jewish community is. The one I'm part of at university, at home, the ones where its members know you personally and the wider Jewish community that prays for a complete stranger because he's the nephew of your friend or friend's friend or whatever.
And, if nothing else, that application form question, "What's been your greatest achievement/challenge outside of academia" practically writes itself now.
Shavua Tov.
Monday, 15 February 2016
Me and my stutter: Part two
I saw a GP on Friday. She was fairly useless, aside from the fact it seemed like I was wasting her time, she seemed to think that I should just sit tight and wait. She might be right; eventually I may just start speaking again, it may just come back as quickly and as suddenly as it went. She may also be wrong, a possibility that is as terrifying as it is growing increasingly likely.
It's hard to explain what it feels like to be entirely trapped inside one's own mind, unable to bridge the gap between what I am thinking and the operation of my vocal cords. There are plenty of people far wiser than me who have said something about feeling lonely, even in the presence of others. I guess that is what comes closest to describing it. People can talk at me and try and work out my response from my facial expressions. They can wait as I type out a response to read what I write and the patience required to do so is immense. They can sit in silence with me, smile every so often and venture a guess as to what I might be thinking. Many have. But I still cannot quite explain it. Sometimes to be with others, despite a complete inability to engage meaningfully is all I crave. Other times I crave a solitude that I cannot escape. Most of the time it's a mix between the two; having someone there should I want to type anything or need to see a smile and feel the assurance that it is going to be okay, even though no one can guarantee that, but being under no obligation to endure the frustration of talking to them via message even though they are sat or stood right in front of me.
Few things keep me going. I await the delicious irony of being phoned by the mental health service I have apparently been referred to in order to talk about what is wrong. The prospect of having profound "first" words is quite attractive though, in truth, the only thing I try and say at the moment is, "Just want to be able to speak." Hardly inspired.
It's hard to explain what it feels like to be entirely trapped inside one's own mind, unable to bridge the gap between what I am thinking and the operation of my vocal cords. There are plenty of people far wiser than me who have said something about feeling lonely, even in the presence of others. I guess that is what comes closest to describing it. People can talk at me and try and work out my response from my facial expressions. They can wait as I type out a response to read what I write and the patience required to do so is immense. They can sit in silence with me, smile every so often and venture a guess as to what I might be thinking. Many have. But I still cannot quite explain it. Sometimes to be with others, despite a complete inability to engage meaningfully is all I crave. Other times I crave a solitude that I cannot escape. Most of the time it's a mix between the two; having someone there should I want to type anything or need to see a smile and feel the assurance that it is going to be okay, even though no one can guarantee that, but being under no obligation to endure the frustration of talking to them via message even though they are sat or stood right in front of me.
Few things keep me going. I await the delicious irony of being phoned by the mental health service I have apparently been referred to in order to talk about what is wrong. The prospect of having profound "first" words is quite attractive though, in truth, the only thing I try and say at the moment is, "Just want to be able to speak." Hardly inspired.
Saturday, 13 February 2016
Pppphhhhillllooosssssopppphy....me and my stutter
When I applied to study a Masters in Philosophy, I considered there to be many positives that I shan't bore you with here. I never considered the positive that it would be especially difficult to say with a stutter, allowing me to make the joke (albeit with poor comic timing and with great difficulty) that I should have picked a subject that would have been easier to say should I ever develop a stutter. When I did, in America, after a panic attack that saw me visit A&E in America more times than I had in the UK, it was reassuring to those I was with that I was still making jokes. Or at least trying to. I hope that remains the case.
I never thought that I would be in the situation again. You see, I am genuinely not an especially anxious person. In fact, I can be annoyingly relaxed about exams or essay deadlines and I get the feeling the majority of my friends would put anxious as one of the characteristics they least expected me to possess. Indeed, I would consider them correct. Having said that, after a panic attack on Monday, I began to stutter again. I made the Philosophy joke and got, perhaps sarcastically, perhaps with a tinge of sympathy, called a comedian. I thought that was the end of it. I didn't expect it to come back. I didn't expect, after waking up on Tuesday speaking as normal, that by noon my speech would begin to deteriorate again. I didn't expect that by Tuesday evening I would be in tears on the phone unable to say words at all. And I certainly did not expect that by Friday, after a visit to A&E on Thursday, that I would be unable to make even a sound and would be reduced to ordering my tea by writing out a note on my phone and handing it to a bemused looking barista and communicated via typed messages, even when in the presence of those I was communicating with.
I can form sentences in my head. I can sing (badly). I can say a pre-agreed phrase at the same time as someone else. I can even speak absolutely normally when on my own. But left to my own devices, when forced to try and link the thoughts in my head to speech coming out of my mouth, I can barely get out air and just struggle until I need to take a breath. I have never been more frustrated in my entire life. It is not that I have anything important to say. When you cannot speak, you realise how little of what you say actually adds to the conversation or is worth saying. I am perfectly content, for now, to sit in silence and let the conversation pass me by, as lonely as that feels. Of course, I miss opportunities to make comments I thought were funny. Of course, I cannot thank people and on Shabbat require someone to explain the situation so people do not think I am being rude. Of course, I cannot engage in conversation full stop. All of that is true. The frustrating thing is, though, that I get false hope. Every so often I feel words bubbling near the surface. I phone my Dad with great hope. I open my mouth to start a sentence in the presence of friends with great hope. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it is soul destroying to think you are so close to having speech back and for it to be cruelly taken away from you. I've broken down crying a couple of times because of it. The struggle to get words out. The feeling of utter aloneness one gets from not being able to respond or partake in a conversation. The look of pity some people give you in stores when all you want is a cup of tea. It's a struggle. Apparently it will go as suddenly as it came, but for now, I am literally speechless. And it kills.
It would be a far cry to say my blog is infamous in J-Soc. It's been mentioned a few times, usually with a derogatory comment. People often go out of their way to tell me they saw it but haven't read it, usually with a degree of humour but still. But it is certainly somewhat known. I go on about it enough. Sure this is a blog about the fact that I cannot talk. It is also a thank you. I do not tend to name people on my blog and I shan't change that policy now. If you feel like you are owed a thank you, then this blog is for you. I am genuinely grateful to anyone and everyone who has helped me; spoken at me; tried to interpret what I am trying to say; explained the situation to others; sat with me and put up with me; gone to the Doctor or A&E with me; and, in general, to everyone for making me feel so welcome as a Masters student. It's the reason I was desperate to stay and the reason I remain wishful some stroke of luck will mean I can.
Update: Apparently I am terrible at charades. Thanks Dad. Thanks a bunch.
I never thought that I would be in the situation again. You see, I am genuinely not an especially anxious person. In fact, I can be annoyingly relaxed about exams or essay deadlines and I get the feeling the majority of my friends would put anxious as one of the characteristics they least expected me to possess. Indeed, I would consider them correct. Having said that, after a panic attack on Monday, I began to stutter again. I made the Philosophy joke and got, perhaps sarcastically, perhaps with a tinge of sympathy, called a comedian. I thought that was the end of it. I didn't expect it to come back. I didn't expect, after waking up on Tuesday speaking as normal, that by noon my speech would begin to deteriorate again. I didn't expect that by Tuesday evening I would be in tears on the phone unable to say words at all. And I certainly did not expect that by Friday, after a visit to A&E on Thursday, that I would be unable to make even a sound and would be reduced to ordering my tea by writing out a note on my phone and handing it to a bemused looking barista and communicated via typed messages, even when in the presence of those I was communicating with.
I can form sentences in my head. I can sing (badly). I can say a pre-agreed phrase at the same time as someone else. I can even speak absolutely normally when on my own. But left to my own devices, when forced to try and link the thoughts in my head to speech coming out of my mouth, I can barely get out air and just struggle until I need to take a breath. I have never been more frustrated in my entire life. It is not that I have anything important to say. When you cannot speak, you realise how little of what you say actually adds to the conversation or is worth saying. I am perfectly content, for now, to sit in silence and let the conversation pass me by, as lonely as that feels. Of course, I miss opportunities to make comments I thought were funny. Of course, I cannot thank people and on Shabbat require someone to explain the situation so people do not think I am being rude. Of course, I cannot engage in conversation full stop. All of that is true. The frustrating thing is, though, that I get false hope. Every so often I feel words bubbling near the surface. I phone my Dad with great hope. I open my mouth to start a sentence in the presence of friends with great hope. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it is soul destroying to think you are so close to having speech back and for it to be cruelly taken away from you. I've broken down crying a couple of times because of it. The struggle to get words out. The feeling of utter aloneness one gets from not being able to respond or partake in a conversation. The look of pity some people give you in stores when all you want is a cup of tea. It's a struggle. Apparently it will go as suddenly as it came, but for now, I am literally speechless. And it kills.
It would be a far cry to say my blog is infamous in J-Soc. It's been mentioned a few times, usually with a derogatory comment. People often go out of their way to tell me they saw it but haven't read it, usually with a degree of humour but still. But it is certainly somewhat known. I go on about it enough. Sure this is a blog about the fact that I cannot talk. It is also a thank you. I do not tend to name people on my blog and I shan't change that policy now. If you feel like you are owed a thank you, then this blog is for you. I am genuinely grateful to anyone and everyone who has helped me; spoken at me; tried to interpret what I am trying to say; explained the situation to others; sat with me and put up with me; gone to the Doctor or A&E with me; and, in general, to everyone for making me feel so welcome as a Masters student. It's the reason I was desperate to stay and the reason I remain wishful some stroke of luck will mean I can.
Update: Apparently I am terrible at charades. Thanks Dad. Thanks a bunch.
Friday, 22 January 2016
MAD MAD MAD
There are only four things that I find it hard to calmly debate and argue about, without becoming increasingly annoyed: how to use literally correctly and why it's important; gun control in America; Feminism and specifically whether a woman is ever asking to be raped (I mean, literally by definition you cannot ask to be raped); and whether we should abolish Trident. Indeed, whenever I take those political quizzes that proclaim to be able to tell me which political party I am closest to, my support for abolishing Trident somewhat skews the results. Yes, that's right. I would abolish Trident. And I don't think there is a single good argument (aside from the fact it seems to monumentally annoy the SNP) for keeping the expensive waste of money. Frankly, I'm not too fussed about the cost actually. I think the billions could be better spent. Maybe we could give those junior doctors a bit more money or stop charging people £9000 a year for the privilege of a university education. Or actually, here is an idea. Let's give all those people who will apparently now lose their jobs a huge payout. As if Trident's main purpose was to provide people with employment. But I suppose that's neither here nor there though of course I do believe it's an utter waste of money. And no, I don't think, if we abolish it, we will usher in a new era of calm and peace (Sorry Jezza, maybe whilst you're talking to Daesh about whether they would mind terribly if they stopped killing homosexuals and raping women, you could ask them not to nuke us) where the US and Iran become Facebook friends and instead of launching nuclear war against each other, decide to hit the poke button and have a poke war that eventually Iran wins after President Donald Trump is caught in a dilemma over whether to comb his hair or invade Portugal and completely forgets to log into his Facebook account. I can even forgive the fact it appears to have been named after a brand of chewing gum.
No, my main issue with Trident is that it is not a deterrent. It is not a deterrent for a number of reasons. And if a nuclear deterrent isn't a deterrent then it serves no purpose. We may as well keep the warheads filled with all those plastics bags we are now saving because of the 5p charge for all the good it would do.
Reason Trident is not a deterrent number one:
Mutually Assured Destruction is an outdated idea that sounds like a perfectly good idea to those we are apparently trying to deter. In other words, it would not and does not deter countries like Iran or North Korea or terrorist groups and I think a nuclear deterrent is highly pointless if it only works as a potential nuclear retaliation. Mainly because they are fairly certain we would never use it (see below) but also because they are not bound by the incredibly volatile politics of MAD.
Besides, if you look at the nuclear powers or close-to-nuclear-powers in the world that might think a nuclear holocaust is a good idea, the majority hate America more than they hate us anyway, so I think we might be safe. Despite expanding over vast swathes of the globe and making life pretty miserable for most of the world's population in our not-so-distant past, we are remarkably still preferred to the USA. Anyway, apparently we don't have to worry about Iran anymore (unless you're Israeli...then you have to be very worried, but who cares about Israel?), North Korea are hardly a threat (I'm more concerned about the very real possibility that Donald Trump may be allowed into the UK after it transpires that only the Home Secretary can ban him and that three hour commons debate was entirely pointless. The havoc it would cause) and even if Russia and China were, Trident would be utterly useless and we'd need the Americans anyway. We may as well turn up to a nuclear war against the Russians with a glow stick and a McDonalds happy meal toy.
Besides, if you look at the nuclear powers or close-to-nuclear-powers in the world that might think a nuclear holocaust is a good idea, the majority hate America more than they hate us anyway, so I think we might be safe. Despite expanding over vast swathes of the globe and making life pretty miserable for most of the world's population in our not-so-distant past, we are remarkably still preferred to the USA. Anyway, apparently we don't have to worry about Iran anymore (unless you're Israeli...then you have to be very worried, but who cares about Israel?), North Korea are hardly a threat (I'm more concerned about the very real possibility that Donald Trump may be allowed into the UK after it transpires that only the Home Secretary can ban him and that three hour commons debate was entirely pointless. The havoc it would cause) and even if Russia and China were, Trident would be utterly useless and we'd need the Americans anyway. We may as well turn up to a nuclear war against the Russians with a glow stick and a McDonalds happy meal toy.
Reason Trident is not a deterrent number two:
We would not use it. Sure that's an assertion, but so is the claim that we would use it. I struggle to believe any British Prime Minister could sanction the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent people who pose no threat to us in a single strike. Besides, couldn't we just invade Iraq again if we wanted to cause murder and chaos on such an unimaginable scale? I think it might even be *cheaper* than renewing Trident. The serious point there is that *even if* we could bring ourselves to sanction the death of hundreds of thousands, if not millions, we could do that in so many other ways. I hear barrel bombs are fairly effective, eh Mr Assad? But seriously. I wouldn't use it. I don't think anyone could do it.
In any event, we always assert our moral superiority over our enemies. We are not fooling anyone into thinking we would strike with a nuclear bomb, trust me. And aside from anything else, does anyone actually believe we would use it? I do not think so. It, therefore, does not work as a deterrent. It's not stopping anyone.
Given we would never use it, what is the point in actually having it? If you support Trident, you support using it in response to a nuclear strike. Ask yourself what good that would do.
In any event, we always assert our moral superiority over our enemies. We are not fooling anyone into thinking we would strike with a nuclear bomb, trust me. And aside from anything else, does anyone actually believe we would use it? I do not think so. It, therefore, does not work as a deterrent. It's not stopping anyone.
Given we would never use it, what is the point in actually having it? If you support Trident, you support using it in response to a nuclear strike. Ask yourself what good that would do.
Reason Trident is not a deterrent number three:
Our biggest threat comes not from Iran (unless you're Israel. Then Iran is your biggest threat, but who cares. You're only Jewi...Israeli) or North Korea or even the French. In fact, they might even all agree nuclear Holocaust is a terrible idea, (relevant, of course, only if they were our biggest threats) and therefore abide by MAD. In which case, good thing the Americans are on our side and look like having a trigger happy bumbling fool in the Oval Office come January next year. If anything is a deterrent, it's Donald Trump with the nuclear codes. Although, he probably thinks they're his numbers for this week's powerball...But no, they aren't our biggest threat. Or even a threat (unless you're Isra...you get the point). No, our biggest threat is terrorism. It's a nuclear weapon falling into the hands of Daesh, the bastards. Or Al Qaeda, also bastards. Or any set of suicidal medieval maniacs with no fixed state territory to strike back against. All bastards. Trust me, Daesh are not deterred by the prospect of us striking Syria or Iraq. Who exactly are we going to condemn to death? Syrians? Iraqis? The Spanish? Or have we developed precision nuclear weapons that can identify a Daesh terrorist and explode a tiny mushroom cloud on his/her (I'm an equal opportunities terrorist accuser) head, ensuring we both make our point and eliminate the threat? Our biggest threat comes from an enemy that doesn't necessarily even have nuclear weapons or the capacity to launch them, don't care about a retaliation even if they did and have no clear or defined territory to strike back against in any event. Seems Trident qua nuclear deterrent isn't quite working out for us.
Reason Trident is not a deterrent number four:
I've alluded to this above. Trident is fairly pathetic. Not only do only four out of five dentists even think Trident is good for your oral health, our so-called independent nuclear deterrent relies on the US for some actual muscle. This begs the question why we don't just rely on the US anyway, we seem to when it comes to deciding whether to invade other countries and virtually every other foreign policy decision, so why not when we apparently want to use a particularly devastating weapon?
Can we not just murder our civilians more conventionally? Apparently Aldi Jaffa Cakes taste basically exactly the same as the real thing. I don't see why we can't apply the same logic when it comes to murdering innocent civilians in a retaliatory strike that would never happen. Maybe Lidl do a range of really cheap, really powerful bombs like the ones we are currently using to destroy Daesh? Who knows. Sure as the hell that would freeze over before we dropped a nuclear bomb on Syria because Daesh attacked Warrington, we do not need Trident. If it is not a deterrent, which - given we would not use it and given we could not use it effectively even if we wanted to against our biggest threats - it is not, then it is about as useful as these potential alternatives to Trident:
- Employing Wayne Rooney to negotiate with any entity who looks like they might strike
- Teaching my (dead) pet goldfish Krav Maga as our first line of defence
- Banning Donald Trump from entering the UK to prevent the radicalisation of youngsters so outraged by him being a buffoon (I mean what were MPs thinking. Do they honestly believe anyone takes them seriously anymore after they dedicated three hours to debating whether we need to protect the sensibilities of an increasingly pathetic and easily offended set of students and others so morally outraged by anyone who dares not be a disabled transgender homosexual ethnic minority, so much so that apparently rape is absolutely bloody okay if it is carried out by refugees and we need to have safe spaces absolutely everywhere?)
- Sending Piers Morgan on a world tour to piss off everyone by name dropping every other sentence and then exiling him to an abandoned island in the Atlantic where everyone would decide to launch their entire nuclear arsenal (somewhat ironic, given his love of a good Arsenal performance) against him, thus preventing them from doing so against us
In fact, I have a radical solution. Let's pretend to renew Trident. We can have a huge ceremony, Cameron can cut the red tape in a massive political statement against regulations in an attempt to win over his party. Political leaders can all fall over themselves to assert the historic importance of the event, reference the Cold War needlessly and inaccurately and tell us how vital it is that we can strike at the heart of Andorra should they ever threaten to win a game of football and cease to be the only team more dull and predictable than England. Everyone can have an extra day off, whip out the bunting, organise street parties and generally have a merry old time akin to the Royal Wedding but without the kiss on the balcony at the end. Just don't tell Corbabes, he might get drunk and tell Daesh or Assad. Nightmare. Plus he might explode if he thinks we are renewing Trident, which I quite fancy watching. All an elaborate double bluff that keeps everyone happy. Our enemies all still believe that we have this apparently effective deterrent and therefore would not dare trying to find out otherwise because, you know, they are suitably deterred. Unless we think they will strike regardless of whether they believe we have a nuclear deterrent, in which case it isn't a deterrent (hang on, I'm fairly sure I've heard that argument somewhere...) and we can all argue about the merits of blowing up Baghdad or Tehran or Rome from the rubble of our destroyed homes. Someone could start a petition and we could watch MPs debate it for three hours before all deciding unanimously to ban Donald Trump.
So come on. Let's stop pretending that Trident serves us any good and go back to arguing about something useful like the disaster that Bake Off leaving BBC is. Or I don't know. The football. I hear United are doing badly at the moment. Ferguson retires and we end up wth Daesh rampaging through Syria and Iraq, the potential for the special relationship to be between Donald Trump and Boris Johnson (I'm not sure what happens if they were to ever meet), Jezza Corbs in charge of the Labour Party and an especially cold winter. I'm not saying there's a link, but you do the maths.
This post has been updated 10 times, including most recently on the 28/09/17. Please note that the football analogy at the end was current at the time of initial writing.
This post has been updated 10 times, including most recently on the 28/09/17. Please note that the football analogy at the end was current at the time of initial writing.
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