An Open Letter To Welsh Water

Dear Welsh Water

Myself and my housemates have today recieved a letter from Bay Collections, dated 1st June 2014 whom after a little research appears to be a subsidiary company of yours specialising in debt collection. The note you've sent us asks that we must call either a premium rate number to pay over the phone or telephone a separate premium rate number to agree payment terms. This would be acceptable, had we not on the 23rd May 2014 had a conversation with you outlining our position, which you agreed to.

As students we are currently going to be vacating the property at the end of June and as such did not wish to pay an extra 9 months, we discussed with you that we would only pay the 3 months for which we would be occupying the property, which you agreed to on that day and we have the details of that conversation written. You have assured us that we would not have to pay beyond that but the letters of your debt collection agency have still stated that we will need to pay the full amount. (Update) While our details have now apparently been resolved, the fact that we recieved this letter suggests your organisation would prefer to send threatening messages through a subsidiary than acknowledge our account change during the 8 days between us contacting you and the letter being sent.

Given that Bay Collections is indeed a subsidiary of yours, instead of sticking to what we had been assured on the phone (of which you can find a record as all your calls are recorded), you chose to enact a threatening letter. Please in the future can you update account details a little faster than 8 days in order to prevent us or any future student customers from recieving such correspondence after they have informed you of their situtation.

Regards,
A Customer.

Dear Political Parties. I Have A Request...

Today's media frenzy over the rise of the media's favourite political party with no MP's is that a prominent member of their youth wing has decided to leave the organisation and branded it racist. The response, from a UKIP party source (who thus, should probably represent the broad views of the organisation as a whole) was that "She's a young person and she speaks her opinions. I'm free not to consider them very important. I don't regard her as a person I should spend a huge amount of my time bothering about." (Source here). Perhaps the opinion of a single headline article in the Guardian are not important in the grand scheme of things. But the message this sends is far more alarming.

The European parliamentary elections (the ones where UKIP has actually won seats in the past) are happening a week from now and I, the same age as the aforementioned blogger, Sanya Jeet Thandi am also left with a quandry of where to place my vote. We've had plenty of election leaflets through the door in our student house, each promising to deliver a strong economy, or criticise the approach of the other parties, and all of them hoping to appeal to the average, middle class nuclear family concerned with their 2.2 children. Whether it's the cost of the living, the strength of the economy or immigration, we are told exactly why we should vote for the various groups.

Something is missing however. We are told via brightly coloured leaflet that the big world of politics can be miraculously solved by your leaders, so long as you remember to pop along to your election booth to vote. Big slogans, cheesy grinning stock photos and lines of ticks are there to remind you, the educated adult citizen that your interests are well taken care of. But the crucial thing missing, is the political party willing to presume that voters are not completely ignorant, capable of a little critical thought and rational reflection.

I understand that anyone above the age of about 30 will look down on my generation and our opinions, feel free not to consider them very important and not regard us as people they should spend a huge amount of time bothering about. We lack the hard bitten cynicism that comes from working, owning property and enjoying the fruits of our labour. Our fresh faced optimism and occasional bright ideas clearly bear little resemeblance to the cruel world we are about to chuck ourselves into, once we've worked for unpaid internships and been reminded how grateful we are.

The youth of today, the hard bitten adults of tomorrow are considered by the political establishment to have very little influence, we are seen as disenfranchised and aside from those members of the 'Young *****' party completely clueless about politics. If it can't be explained by Nick Grimshaw with a little innuendo and immaturity then we apparently won't understand what's going on. Indeed the cartoons encouraging us youthful individuals to vote, as issued by the European parliament presume that our intelligence is little greater than that of the common water vole.

But I'm issuing a challenge to any political party that wants my vote in the European Parliamentary elections. I'd like you to explain to me, as a fellow citizen of this country, what you offer and what I can expect, not in soundbites but a clear and reasoned argument. I'd like you to respect that while I may not have the same realistic experience of the world as your 'party sources', I am still a rational human being capable of critical thought and an ability to question and form judgements about your claims. If any political party is capable of treating its young voters as more than easy demonisation and respect their basic opinions, then I pledge my vote to you. If you can't do that, I'll do what us young people supposedly do and vote for the candidate with the funniest sounding name.

The Last Days Of Our Lives

Written as a potential opening to something much longer, this piece is one part descriptive, one part philosophical self reflection and topped off with an attempt to actively work on the language I was using. Set on Venice Beach in Los Angeles, somewhere I've never visited but would love to head to one day and been told about by an accquaintance last summer. Enjoy, any feedback would be welcome.

“I wonder it’ll be like,” she remarked, “hundreds of years from now, when they write the history of our lives.” The sun was dropping fast now, rays flooding the sand in a wash of amber and crimson while the tinny jazz music from speakers at the bar 50 metres back began to swell over. The subtle hiss and pop of lime meeting Corona barely registered but it was enough and as one they stood, taking their first steps down to the waves beyond lively Venice Beach. With every step the calming patter of wake ahead brushed out the nonsensical sounds behind and she continued.
 
“Every generation up until now had something to define them. They might not have known it at the time but they did, none the less. Our parents were brought up in the 80s, they dressed badly, listened to cheesy music and learnt not to fear the bomb cause Reagan was in control. They were always going to be fine. Our grandparents grew up in the shadow of that bomb but they were brought up after one war in Europe and had kids while people a few years younger died in Vietnam.  Their parents before them were desperately poor because of bankers on Wall Street, it’s funny how things change there! And I’m not sure what happened to the parents of those guys but it probably meant something.”

They reached the water’s edge, removing cheap flip flops to let their toes wriggle in the sand, now leeched and pale as the sun finally sank beneath the horizon, leaving only a soft red scar to light the sea.  The noise and neon lingered on ignored, they turned away from the pier to their right and started down the beach. “We talk lots about the future and how great it is that everyone gets opportunities to succeed, but no one ever takes the time to stop and look back at what’s going on now. It seems we live, disembodied and wide eyed for the future and learn respectfully from the past, but the present is mere existence.”

A stray breaker snatched at her ankle and she gasped. As warm as Californian air is, the sea is still fresh enough to pull you to your senses. “Perhaps they’ll think of us as the internet generation, or the millenials or maybe we’ll be known for some war just round the corner. Maybe there will be a revolution after all and we’ll finally reach some big epiphany or maybe we’ll just go on doing our every day stuff and ignore what’s going on. But right now our own condition seems to be very much a dream and this soporific state of affairs is nothing to be particularly impressed by.”

She took a long swig of the beer and with a nonchalant flick of hair continued. “When they come to write it, they’ll probably do what we do now though. They won’t write our history to suit us but use it as a commentary on their own time. If people are consistent at one thing, it’s to lament the loss of past and encourage further deviations from that past in our future. All our lives we are told to forecast, to predict, to speculate and when it’s over we analyse, criticise, reflect and use that to prepare us for the future. Yet we do all that and the one thing we can never do is enjoy the ‘it’ that we live in now.

It’s easy to called self indulgent for our wanton attempts to enjoy life as it is now; you don’t need to be popping pills or taking endless photos, any expression of contentment sees us called lazy or ungrateful and not striving forward towards that futures everyone always goes on about. Beers nearly empty they dropped them in a cheap plastic bag on a lifeguard station and headed back up towards the welcome lights. “I’m sick of dreaming about what’s to come and waiting to look back with nostalgia. It seems the only thing we don’t consider real is the reality we live in now and tonight I want to live,” she said. The salt from the sea scratched against her legs and they took a meandering pebbled path back up to another bar.

 

The Gospel According To George (Satire)

And lo, it was decreed in the year of our lady 31AM that Dave did become leader of the Great British ship of state. And Dave did decree that it was in the wishes of our Lord to trim this ship, throwing aside valuable planks and sails to his friends on other, private ships. Around this time did Dave say unto his assembled disciples, all men who were his oldest and dearest chums. We have brought upon this land a big society, a society in which all who lived in leafy southern villages should help one another and thus charity would logically flow to those poor and needy.

But Dave, said Eric, his trusted advisor, does this mean that we should be in the practice of all donating our wealth, as in the book of charity. No, spake Dave, for it is no compulsory practice but a voluntary one that should be encouraged to be all in this together. It is not born of greed, but a good, honest compassion for our fellow man in the village. Surely, piped up the squeaky voice, of Ed, who had not been invited and was heard by none, this is just a policy designed to get the government to do less and less. Wouldn't it be good, drawled Mike, Dave's former confidante, if we could take this giving and apply it across all of the land, collectively organised and then distributed to all. Don't be ridiculous, get back to thine bench, spaketh Dave.

With his grand plan to do nothing in place, thus Dave entered the temple and overturned the tables of the money lenders. Hence, they all guffawed about it, for it was as it had been in the misty eyed days in the club of Bullingdon. They all slapped some money down and decided that they should take their money and store it in heaven, where the rates of tax were far less, although they would continue reside here in Dave's Kingdom. Thus Dave continued to cut the wind to the sails and the sails themself on his ship of state and turn abroad. In good christian fashion he saw the suffering of those across the world and boldly elected to do nothing, as it is decreed that thou shalt love thy neighbour, so long as he has money and influence.

And then, Dave spaketh, I shall tell ye all the story of the good illegal immigrant. 'A man was travelling on the road from Basingstoke to Guildford when he was robbed, beaten and his fine watch taken from his wrist. First rode by a noble man in his Bentley, but he was polluting and so did not have time to help. Then rode by a lowly brick layer, but he had been the product of new labour and was already in a mess. Finally rode by a poor illegal immigrant from the lands east of Germania but west of Russia.' What, exclaimed Nick, Dave's faithful lapdog, did the immigrant then help the man, thus showing the common good of the lowest.

No, replied Dave, for the immigrant was promptly reported through the dying man's last breath, as any honest citizen would do, and thus the noble lady Theresa did escort the immigrant away. And so the small, racist contingent of the assembled crowd guffawed loudly before moving on to Espania for their retirement.  Thus did Dave continue to mediate the land, feeding the 5,000 with his banks of food, so long as they had correct documentation, healing the sick and disabled by getting them to stand on their own two feet and all the while his 17 chums yelled loudly in the house.

But it was foretold that Dave would be hung up and crucified in the year 36AM and three days later would rise again in the form of a flaxen headed leader, who would be called Boris. His gospel is not yet written.

Call Of Duty Predicted The Ukraine Crisis

It seems that back in 2007, Activision predicted the world's next geopolitical flashpoint. The opening lines of the landmark video game Call Of Duty Modern Warfare go "Good news first, the world's in great shape. We've got a civil war in Russia, government loyalists against ultranationalists rebels." While the plot of that game might not focus on Ukraine, the quasi-conflict currently under way bears striking similarities, with a Western backed government dealing with protestors, both homegrown and imported from the nearby Russian border who are supported by a far more radical nationalist force in the form of Vladmir Putin.

You should bear no doubts that the protestors of Donetsk and Kharkiv are not merely elements of Ukraine who have suddenly found the courage, military uniforms and automatic weapons to defy the interim government of Kiev. There is a wealth of evidence that hints that Russia is behind this destabilising process, from 'local people' storming what they thought was a local government building only to find they'd taken control of the opera and ballet house, to two Russian state channels interviewing one man who claimed to be firstly a pro-Russian protestor, and then an anti-Russian extremist from Germany. Even Vladmir Putin now admits the 'volunteers' who siezed Crimea six weeks ago were Russian troops, not merely local concerned militia with Armoured Personnel Carriers at their disposal.

Just as in the game, the conflict has wrought havoc in Eastern Ukraine, with scuffles, seizure of arms and protestors from both camps frequently clashing. Yet equally in the game, the government of Kiev may possess more troops (excusing for a momemnt the 50,000 Russians poised on Ukraine's borders) but face a well organised and determined resistance movement that is led by unidentified, well equipped soldiers. While these have not been proven as Russian, it is worth considering that according to the Economist, the Russian Defence ministry boasted of creating such a unit last year.

Perhaps more poignantly in this parallel between the virtual and reality is that despite the best efforts of the West, in the aftermath of the events of Modern Warfare, the ultranationalists actually took control of Russia (analogous to Eastern Ukraine) in this example, which eventually leads to a far more globally reaching conflict in the sequel, Modern Warfare 2. While predicting a 3rd world war as a result of the Ukraine crisis is at this stage rather far fetched, it is worth noting that this proxy conflict by sides backed by NATO / Western and Russian interests respectively bears many of the hallmarks of the conflicts of the Cold War Era.

Vladmir Putin has refused to back down, the Russian state is collaborating in and to a large extent probably organising the destabilising events of Ukraine and Western action is a mere shadow of the bombastic rhetoric. I do not deny that Russian money is important in many Western financial centres, not least in London and that Russia's control of gas pipelines is a noose they can voluntarily squeeze on many Eastern European countries (thanks to Russian state ownership of Gazprom). But Russia is willing to act subversively, spinning one fable while enacting another and manipulating international law, citizenship and sovereignty to suit its own ends, and prevent the West from damaging its bullying sphere of influence on its borders. The West, particularly the EU and Britain must be prepared to be much stronger in their actions to prevent the violations of Ukrainian sovereignty at work.

Until then, the Russian juggernaut will infect and siphon off Ukrainian territory piece by piece. Though if the crisis does truly reflect the game, give Ukraine a year or two and it will be filled with young squeeky insurgents attempting to use big rifles for style points and shouting foul, poorly spelled abuse at each other through large microphones.

A Pessimistic Cosmopolitan Manifesto

It is clear that the dream of the enlightenment has died. The idea of human freedom, invigorated by the rational choices of individuals as they see fit has led to a system no longer requiring its illusory gloss coating. This system is unwritten explicitly and controlled by no one, instead sitting documented in the progression of human history, a monstrous tale of a struggle for the accumulation of wealth, power and the means to acquire both of these. This seeking of wealth (in terms of money, assets, resources and land), sits hand in hand with the influence and control determined by power, and so these attempts to grasp ever more is the basis of most human relations.

Our desire for wealth and power still utterly defines our world, regardless of any false ideological claims of increased quality of life or improved freedoms being at the heart of the desires of any authority, or the carefully formulated blustering of our political class. Between states, in the highly acclaimed global market, life is little better, with the competing interests of the governments and transnational corporations deciding on their compromises to today’s issues and creating a whole new set of crises to solve in the process.

Do not idly presume that in a world of fierce political, economic and military competition that there are outcomes fair and favourable to all those involved. Every generalisation of economic prosperity and growth, each treaty, every war, every government debt reduction and political decision sees losers as well as winners. When quantified and graphed by the statisticians, from a carefully formulated range of data, the losses of jobs, the brutal and bloody aftermath of war and the loss of political campaigning are presented to you as necessary in the face of so called successes elsewhere. You can thus sleep safer in your bed, fuelled by addictions to all the pills and substances the kindly corporations offer you at a competitive rate, knowing that poverty, restriction of freedom, torture, murder, disease and a lack of all your home comforts are something that happen elsewhere.

Ironically, if you take our world for what it truly is, an endless competition in which you expend your life’s energies seeking the wealth and power we so desire, this lack of care for others is not surprising. From birth to death, in a world built on the compromises of committees and meetings, you are fed, clothed, taught and entertained from the goodness of our great and kind corporations, organisations and governmental departments. This is a great gift they offer, just so long as you work for them, pay them your dues and spend your life encouraged to consume all that they package just for each and every one of you.

Never fear though, we have all the freedom possibly available to us after we have earnt enough money to pay for our children’s education from their birth until they can take over from us and pay for our healthcare (either to a state with tax or a private company with wages) prior to our deaths. In the middle of our lives we have jobs that line the pockets of the richer and more powerful than us in order to receive enough money to exist and enjoy our life’s pleasures.

Luckily these pleasures are acquired from primarily from the same producers who we are so indebted to for their provisions during our formative and final years. We are all then told that if we work hard, we can all beat each other and aspire to reach those lofty peaks of wealth and power, upon which all our cares and pain and fears will simply be washed away, at least until we die.

There is little that is untarnished by this system, one that you could call ruthlessly capitalist if it did not also feature so heavily the machinations of government, a partnership that could aptly be called partners in crime if they did not conveniently have control over the system of laws. These are there to protect their interests, and of course your individual rights and liberties (so long as your rights don’t get in the way of their interests.) By merit of your birth you give your tacit consent to enter and abide by this system, free of course, should you object, to go to a state better suited to your needs, since the ruthless acceleration of the global market to every corner of the globe has left a raft of places available where such similar ‘freedoms’ are offered. If a democratic reality does not suit you, why not try one of those convenient authoritarian or dictatorial regimes that enter the capitalist market but choose to deny their people the advantages (cynicism placed aside for a second) that come with it.

Obviously though, any decisions too big or uninteresting for the global reach of corporations are left to only those free and democratic nations in which a large military and nuclear power is maintained, their ability to utterly destroy all human life ten times over makes them ideal advocates for best practices. After all if the history of the 20^th century proved anything, it was that after going to war to defend our freedoms, the best course the world leaders could take was a huge stockpile of lethal arms possessed by two competing political and economic entities. They ensured that their warheads could leave a blight across hundreds of miles for many years to come, just in case their initial awesome blast wasn’t quite effective enough as a lethal weapon of mass slaughter.

However, this threat had the potential to be harmful for business so all the while, threat constantly looming, the large governments and corporations made sure to get every last inch of the world hooked on their products. They supplied smaller countries and factions with enough weapons and machinery to cause an acceptable level of destruction in defence of their beliefs and ideological promises, without threatening the dominant interests. Ultimately, the Cold War was simply an attempt by the two competing systems to justify their continual existence and dominance over individual lives, one via public power serving private interests and one via private power serving public interests. Despite our slight historical deviation, it’s clear to see that today’s world is definitely far better. Capitalism and the oligarchic governments who benefit from its continued existence and have replaced the backwards systems of the Cold War with a new world in which he have several large, nuclear armed superpowers.

These democratic nations, guaranteeing the freedom to earn enough to ease the pain of death and usher in the future generations so long as we both work for and purchase from the global financial market. In a world without a wall through Berlin, we have learnt from all our mistakes and no longer engage in ideological warfare, instead fighting in defence of basic human rights and freedoms unscrupulously, except when it’s not in our nation’s economic or political interest to do so.

This system, abhorrent as it appears, is made far worse by the fact we are told that it’s all in our best interests. Apparently we are far better off as long as we consume all the necessary products on offer to us, since in our finitely resourced world, growth is an exponential occurrence that will lead to all people prospering. By working for an unliveable wage paid by the global companies in a political system that represses freedoms and rights, even those in far off lands can prosper so long as they fuel our demand to be sold products by the benevolent, corporate social responsibility practicing global conglomerates.

One day, the democratic governments will even organise a dialogue process to remove some of these repressions for third world countries, just so long as they buy our nations goods, and keep supplying the cheap labour and resources necessary for the first world’s continued prosperity. And when you come to the end of your life, you’ll be cared for just fine, your pain minimised so long as your cheque book is ready; or (especially if the state is providing for you) your children’s cheque books.

The obvious negative response is that my cynicism in unhelpful in its lack of a solution at best, or downright wrong at worst. So, as you recline in your accommodation you pay the bank for each month until it’s finally yours (at least until you die, when in order to pass it on to your children who pay handsomely to keep living in it,) surrounded by a wealth of objects paid for via the money you earn for improving the lot of your company or department or organisation, here is my nihilistic riposte for you. Human life is dominated by economic exchange for survival and leisure, your apparent freedom and fulfilment sold to you once you’ve given up enough of your time and freedom to the increased wealth and power of those above while exploiting those below.

With all our reason, potential rights and freedoms we have ascended above all other creatures, away from a state of nature to a life that’s nasty, brutish and not quite so short (depending on how much you’re willing to spend). If you treasure what true freedom you have, things must change. You the people could again have the power, if you sought hard enough to reclaim it. Look at the world and seek to make it something beautiful, sustainable and capable of allowing all people freedom to exist in a better world. If not, the death of the dream is the culmination of a tragic path. The solutions to our problems as a global society is one that is hard to define, precisely because it requires the affirmation and will of a totality of individual choices to achieve any significant change. Yet the first step that must be taken before any attention to the structures and systems of our global system can truly be affected, is to call on a long forgotten and seldom used option, that of accountability. If our governments and corporations are, as they claim to be, part of a democracy, then they must adhere to the wishes of the people

Thus, I urge you, with all your power, if you are passionate for any change, be it great or small, to research, question, argue and search for answers to your issues. Roll back the corporate visage and jargon, ask for the facts and realities of the actions and compromises made. Protest, not through violence but your voices and actions, since for all their exploitation, the corporate world depends on your continued support. Therefore you can use your power of choice to boycott those complicit in the denial of human liberties and rights, of exploitation and false reports. You are free to exist in a system that defines your life in terms of the previously discusses relations, if you so choose, but you can only make that choice once you are aware of the hypocrisy’s and flaws present in such a system.

It is a system that we all exist in, and to truly live as free individuals it must be changed, reformed, amended or even replaced; but such choices are for all democratic people to make together. In the meantime, do not be disenfranchised but instead embrace what rights and liberties you still possess to expose the fierce and competitive world for what it truly is, a political and economic bloodbath, seeking to disguise this true nature under a carefully projected image of tranquil, everlasting perpetual peace and prosperity. And if human kind is unable, once the vicious realities of a system governed by selfish interests and competition, to forge a better future, then we must resign ourselves to our miserable fate.

 

A Boer in a Bar (Satire)

A Boer overheard in a Cape Colony Bar, 1810, translated from the original Afrikaans.

Do you know what the real problem with this place is though Christiaan, aside from the heat here and those pesky lions that keep on hurting our traditional Boer livestock with their diseases and their ravenous jaws. It’s that the true native Boer’s don’t feel like we’re living in our own country any more. I know that the Cape might be back in Boer hands after that Peace of Amiens but you can hardly move these days for the bloody British taking up the place.

That ridiculous, outdated treaty means that all 10 million Britain’s can come live here and start can claiming land to settle on right now. Soon we’ll all have to start adopting Church of England customs and force our women to start wearing their ridiculous long dresses and our Boer women will be scolded in the street if they show their ankles. Soon you won’t be able to wander through a traditional Boer town in piece without stepping on some British layabout trying to tap our mineral seams and speaking in that rough, guttural tone of theirs to every Tom, Dick & Harry they meet.

I’m not saying I’m racist, but I tell you, last week I was on my way to market and I couldn’t even get 10 feet without seeing their pasty white faces filling up the street, slowly collecting sunburn to try and blend in. They could at least learn a bit of Afrikaans before they get here too, it’s almost impossible to do business without having to have special dual language signs so our slaves can work out what their saying. Pretty soon there will probably be another bloody treaty that means we’ll become a British country entirely and have to start adopting all their ridiculous customs probably even banning slavery for heaven’s sake.

They wouldn’t have stood for this in my ancestors days I can tell you. We’ve fought one war with the British already to keep them out of their lands and, while I know they might have had a victory and then given our country back to us, they need to remember that this is a Boer country and that’s the way it should stay. The bureaucrats and ineffectual busybodies in the Hague might not care about the ordinary Boer people but this is our country and I’ll be damned if I see it filled with any more of those pastys.

This is our land, (ever since we drove the natives out of here to exploit its resources and take them as our slaves) and I don’t see why we should have this ridiculous policy that means that they can just come over here, release our slaves and take our rightful exploitation of this land away from us. I don’t even recognise this bit of Africa anymore, it’s an outrage I tell you. I’ve half a mind to pack my bags and go invade somewhere else where there are no immigrants to get in my way.

Note: In 1814 the Dutch government then formally ceded sovereignty over the Cape to the British, under the terms of the Convention of London, much to the dismay of our fine bar friend…