Friday 28 October 2011

i am who i am

i am who i am

I am who I am,
But close the curtains.
The neighbours needn’t see
What I’m watching on TV:
Shut the windows.
In my abode I am king
And my mind’s the castle,
But one thing:
Lift the drawbridge.
The neighbours needn’t know
I listen to The Smiths and enjoy a cup of tea.
Yes, proud to be me but
The neighbours needn’t know
I’m alone,
Thirty, balding.
No girlfriend as such
But a lifetime too scared to say ‘hi’.
And with a lower case ‘I’,
i am who i am.
A shadow stealing the place of a man.
An understudy in my own play,
And screaming in my own way.
No round of applause
As the curtains open;
Mask on, stepping on lies.
And a stronger man trapped in my eyes.


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This is a poem I wrote a while back. I don't really share what I write, so please be gentle. But I felt like putting it out there as I really like this one. For me, what I write serves its good because it makes me happy. Moulding a beautiful idea into words is a tremendous power, and feeling. So I've never really felt inclined to share, because it already makes me happy and I'd hate it if I let other people's feelings impose on such a concept which made me happy beforehand.

/sentimental disclaimer

But seriously, thoughts and feelings are appreciated. Hope you enjoy it.

(edit: I moved this introduction to after the poem as I don't want my thoughts marring the poem before you've read it)

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(edit:

I felt as if I should write a little about it. I do basically see poetry as moulding a single idea and stretching it out into lines. This idea was based on the fact that I'd always have to take my grandparents' wine bottles to the dump as my grandma refused to put them outside for collection, as the neighbours would be able to see how much they drink. It made me think about the social mask we all wear, and the people we pretend to be for society. Something like American Beauty.

The voice is inspired by The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock massively, because I adore that poem so fucking much. If you haven't read that you should go and read it now. It's utter heartbreak shaped into a single poem.

Peace and love, brothers.

Sunday 23 October 2011

Order and Disorder

Apologies for another blog post based entirely on what I'm learning in my course, but understandably it's taking up a lot of my time and imagination right now. Some bits of it I am finding really interesting though. Our seminars in legal method thus far have been based mostly on the concepts of society, order and the definition of law relative to these which proposes some ideas that I myself am really interested in.

What is 'order'? There's a chapter in Critical Introduction to Law which focuses on this. There is an inherent mantra in society that order is good and disorder is bad. We don't question this as such, but what is interesting is that we don't have a real say on what 'order' is, either. Mansell et al use the example of a desert island. If a child is born on a deserted island, it will take the rituals that its parents perform before it as 'the way things should be done'; standard procedure, what is 'acceptable'. Likewise we are born into a society with its ideas of what is right and wrong already laid out, and rarely do we really question these.

The idea of theft was most interesting to me. It seems a fundamental challenge to our 'order' if people go around stealing. Yet, as a premise solely by itself it could be externally deemed just as strange that someone insists on holding onto their personal items. In a communist society, perhaps. But regardless, to an external set of eyes that could feasibly be just as much a challenge to order as someone insisting on taking it. The example of a psychiatrist is used. A girl insists on holding bread in her hand and refuses to let the psychiatrist take it off her when he tries. When he pricks her in the head, she doesn't respond. She's in her own world, untouchable by the psychiatrist. In our society, we accept the role of a psychiatrist as being within his 'role' to do these things, but without that inherent acceptance of 'roles' set in our capitalist society, it could also be seen as just as strange that a man is standing there pricking a little girl and trying to take her bread off her as the little girl refusing to respond. To the girl, even, in her own world this psychiatrist is the fundamental challenge to her order. He is destroying her order.

So what is order? Mansell et al also challenge us to think about how it differs if we refer to order coming out of disorder, rather than disorder coming out of order. They are subjective concepts. Our only basis for 'disorder' is that it is breaking up our absolute definition of 'order', but what if we start with a definition of 'disorder' and challenge any concepts of order to come out of that? Does it make a difference?

The idea of roles is interesting. The chapter I read is based largely on societal roles, and how we fit into these and as a result conform to certain aspects of behaviour. This can be extended to refer to class roles. Because I mean, really, we do have certain expectations for the different classes of society. In the 17th century it was still illegal for the poor to eat certain foods, or wear certain clothes. But what would your honest response be if you saw a council-estate teenager dressed solely in Jack Wills? In a microcosm, it's a challenge to your perception of 'order'. Not a great challenge; I doubt you'd be going home to write to the Daily Mail about it (although, I'm sure there are many who would) but it's a challenge nonetheless. Because order and disorder are entirely about perception. To an extent, there are no civilised and uncivilised societies, only different cultures and different perceptions of order and disorder.

Kant refers to the natural 'order' when constructing imperatives. He says that one cannot construct a moral statement, an imperative, if when universalised it would impose a threat to the natural order. So for a very long time this idea of 'order' and 'disorder' has existed. Society's interpretations of what it means have not always been constant, but the perception of 'order', or indeed 'law' being this organic, ubiquitous material is an age-old idea. But the challenge is, maybe there are no primary elements to 'order' at all. Maybe it's all subjective. From an external perspective, any concept that we have drawn to the idea of 'order' could appear strange, or unusual. We have that enough with looking at different cultures around the world as it is, but if aliens came to visit there's a good change they'd find all of our unchallenged foundations of morality and perceptions of 'order' entirely stupid.

Law upholds 'order'. But order is a relative concept, so law is not this natural, organic element to society that it always seems to be accepted as. Law is dynamic; through common law it shall transgress and transcend with social rhetoric and relative morality. But as it transgresses, it shall be treated as absolute all the same. Like it's always been this way; or always should have been this way. And nobody shall argue with that. Law is 'law'.

Monday 17 October 2011

What is law?

I haven't written a blog post since I arrived at university so I decided to post the preparation I had to do for my first seminar last week. For those of you who don't know/haven't been stalking me well enough (come on guys) I have moved from home to go to the University of Nottingham and am studying law.

For our first seminar (it's been entirely lectures up to this point) in 'understanding law' we were asked to buy a copy of the previous day's Guardian and read through it, making notes and picking out articles which relate to 'our definition of law'. I hadn't really thought about my definition of law before now, which was totally the point of the exercise. Not many people do think about it. It's such an inherently self-explanatory concept, almost: law is 'law'.

But once I'd thought about it a bit more and wrote this up, I decided that I wholeheartedly agree with what I wrote. My definition was a bit different from everyone else's and if there was a prize for 'student who's most likely to be studying the wrong subject' after the seminar, then I would have undoubtedly won. But at the same point I think my seminar leader was impressed by my definition, if only because it was less generic and more thought out than most.

"Law is the human application of the metaphysical concept of justice; it is the anthropic ruling of the line between perceived ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, pertaining to social and natural moralities. It is society’s interpretation of justice, stretching its inner fibres as far as the collective human eye can decipher. Law is society’s most thorough attempt at delivering the grey in between the black and white of mankind’s ethical codes; acknowledging the division between what is allowable and what is not before affirming this for the rest of society through parliament or the courts. Law is justice without its conceptual case; interpreted into human hands to create a device for order and authority within a population."


Law is fallible. It's complex; it's long-winded. And this is because it's a human application. My definition is very Platonic. I was talking to someone about my definition before seminar and they were all for going all Aristotle on it, rather than Plato. Like I'd ever do that, the Plato-lover I am. But justice is a concept, and law is the human interpretation of it. We're taking a concept from the world of the forms and it's disintegrating with every second it's spending here. It's a shadow of its real self in this material, moving world. It's eroding away in Heraclitus' river.

And for me, that is law. Law is an inherently human thing. It's a translation of justice, almost. Law is putting justice into Google translate and having to assume the answer it gives out is right. It's never perfect; it never will be. We're humans and whenever there is human involvement something is entirely fallible. Only in concept can things be perfect; pure. The downfall of law is that it's human. It will never be the perfect, imposing body it seems to present itself as by definition as a result. Many people treat law as an organic, natural super-entity, but it's not. Justice is. Justice is everlasting and ever-present in this world whether humans are here to put it into application or not. But when it's put into application, it's interpreted as law.

So that's what I think law is. It's one of those things that I didn't necessarily believe entirely when I wrote it; it sort of just flowed out when I was desperately thinking about what to write, pretentiously and overbearingly flowery (the irony of that sentence is not lost on me, don't worry). But now I've read my own words over and over, I believe it more. I believe it entirely. That is what I think law is.

Yours,

a law student.

Monday 10 October 2011

about our recent hiatus

Harvey is at uni, too busy having rampant alcoholic orgies to write on this humble blog.

Jack is just pretty slovenly

(I might review the new Noel Gallagher album, love from Jack)