blog.djstead.net

The other week, one of my WhatsApp groups of friends ended up in a lively discussion, and I wanted to try and record the tangled web of threads that came up in the conversation, and why I struggle to hold a meaningful debate - especially in a group. So this will be less about the issue at the core of the discussion, and more about my supplementary thought processes during the development of the constructive arguments. (If you were part of that discussion, I apologise for mangling the nuances of the debate - as I say; this post is more about trying to understand what was going on in my head throughout it/when I'm debating in general - and the various threads of thought that got tangled together) - So, in essence, the debate began by someone questioning the need for the CEO of a charity to take home so much money (in terms of pay). I believe this was initially a moral question - which I interpreted as 'if you're doing good things, you shouldn't need ...

For a long while now I have always carried with me my philosophical groundwork , upon which everything I do is - fundamentally - based. And yet - in terms of practical application - the philosophy is somewhat lacking; you have to accept the gulf between the fundamental reality of - well - reality, and the everyday occurrences in your world that demand attention, sustenance, and contemplation. Now there are myriad of frameworks out there, a fraction of whom I list below: 9-5, mon-fri office job; live for your evenings and weekends a variety of religions familial structures/hierarchies driven by profit/greed live for the music live for the sport engaging in local, regional and national governance online communities as your focus And a lot of these overlap. Some interact rather well. Many are likely adopted by you reading this, and I include myself in that. Or you will have plausible alternatives, when it comes to a way of income, a way of socialising, a way of...

This Christmas just gone I spent £459.32 on presents. It will surprise approximately none of you to know that I know this because I have a spreadsheet of everything I bought. Money is paradoxically only quantifiable in itself. Meaning, I don't know what some of those words mean. But also meaning I have no idea if you reading this feel like that's a lot of money, or not very much; or 'sounds about right'; or all of the above, depending on the context of the gifts, and who received them. Which is an odd thought to have about presents. Or at least the socially accepted tradition of gift-giving at both Christmas and Birthdays, which is part of the world in which I have been brought up.

Obligatory 'first' post on a new platform... Following the realisation that Tumblr was disappearing down the Conservative alleyways it's conglomerate parents hinted at a few years ago, I have 'jumped ship' and looked to the definitely-not-evil-Google multiverse, and found Blogger. My Tumblr fears were confirmed by their spectacular failure to support the adult blogging network and support mechanism that had flourished on their platform - all because WON'T SOMEBODY PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN - whilst simultaneously ignoring the blatant racism and violence-based journals that can easily be found still on the site. So in a move partly out of solidarity, but also because I'd like to consolidate my corporate eggs into one totally-free-and-not-at-all-evil basket please. So here we are - Blogger. Hopefully my domain names will redirect shortly; and lo a new journey begins on a new platform.

(NB: This is a post about leaving Facebook) Up until recently I already had a limited relationship with Facebook. My news feed was muted, and I only occasionally visited feeds of groups of friends, to catch up on news. In fact, its main purpose was two-fold: Actively manage/participate in Events Repost my Twitter feed onto Facebook Facebook has now stopped doing the latter , so my thoughts on Twitter (which are my stream of consciousness) are no longer transferred onto my Facebook wall. This automatic re-post used to mean when I logged onto Facebook, my notifications were invariably my friends not on Twitter, posting something in response to my Twitter thoughts. Often fun interactions (as on Twitter). Facebook have stopped this happening. - Whilst it would (selfishly) be ‘incredibly convenient’ for those of you that occasionally interact with my Twitter content via Facebook to sign-up to Twitter and follow me, I realise that is an unreasonable ask! Though, ...

And so in the latest display of what a shit-show the world is turning out to be, the hashtag #metoo has been trending on Twitter today. I’m attempting to process that, and no doubt making a mess of it, so as I am likely to be one unnecessary voice on the subject, I’d suggest you stop reading. As I understand it, this hashtag has emerged as a painful reminder (and - unfortunately for most - a revelation) that sexual assault in various forms is far far more common than perhaps is widely reported - certainly the evidence is overwhelming. Instinctively, this is an important subject of discussion. No question. It really feels like this is something that needs to be rooted out, challenged, expunged from the modern world; and yet already I am floundering. I feel bad for making this post that is not purely about this issue - I feel like I am not giving this attention the full attention it deserves. Wouldn’t it be great if everything stopped, and all everyone talked about o...

If you asked me what I did last weekend, I would have to stop and look at my Google Calendar, and then go ‘oh yeah - that is what I did’, and memories would come back. For more significant events, like weddings, I like to take tangible objects from those occasions, and keep a hold of them. - This year I have been to four weddings (fingers-crossed, no funerals), and pictured are four objects that I took away from those events. Each anchor those events in my mind: First there is the ‘diamond’ that my cousin’s daughter sold to me at my other cousin’s wedding; that links me to the family that were at the wedding - the images of the venue; my bedroom accessed by the bookshelf; the jam & honey I was gifted by the venue to give to my parents who couldn’t be there; the dancing; the plate of chips; and the friends of my cousin who had smuggled in bourbon biscuits. Then came my school-friend Vicky’s wedding in the almost surreal setting of St. Paul’s cathedral. H...