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Patrick Allan

[ website | Not Only Pawn - Patrick Allan's Vim ]
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Another End [21 Dec 2001|07:49pm]
[ mood | bouncy ]
[ music | The Who ]

Well there you have it. Another year is at an end. Means nothing of course. Ha! The water that has passed under the bridge, and the other stuff too, it's all gone now.

College - a distant memory now. Thank the lorks! I actually thought I liked it at the time, it was only when I got to University I realised it was a load of shite.

Myself - a distant memory now. Thank the lorks! I used to be like the rest I think. I denied it of course, but I tried to be something and somebody. Admittedly it was something obnoxious, I liked to offend and be in the face of certain groups of people. It was strange. I know I'm worth nothing now, I'm nothing, I'm no-thing. I have no need to be any-thing, I'm no-thing. The human being is no-thing, it just lives and acts as some-thing to avoid the bleak reality of no-thingness.

Busking? - Just in case you're here because you remember my past nobbery, hey I just couldn't resist one last go. You see, I actually planned to turn up at OSFC presentation evening in street wear with my guitar, and sit outside busking. Just to make the point that our education system is all wrong, it's geared to training people into becoming slaves to the wage. Education shouldn't be about a career. But since I thought up my poke, well.. I've become a true existentialist. (also I had a better offer and my flat all to myself if you know what I'm saying).

I don't care about anything but my self any more. The self is all.

Selfishness is all. And we all live like that anyhow, every act we carry out is actually to make our self feel better about itself.


Yes, the past is dead. It's disconnected from me. A guy said just the other day about my love of symbolism.. my lorks, what a blast. It's been months you see, and people tend to rarely change their view of you, but me.. I don't give a fuck about all that anymore. I only ever briefly did. It's a load of shite. It's nothing.

This song is over, it's all behind me.

If you are looking at this, if you are reading nothing by nothing, may I just ask you this.. I don't exist and never have, do you realise that you are no-thing?

Yes. The past. Load of shite. Get out of my face. I'm no-thing.

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The wind will blow [18 Nov 2001|08:43pm]
[ mood | artistic ]
[ music | Pink Floyd - The Wall disc 2 ]

The wind will blow, it'll blow and blow. We'll all be stood, falling down, down and down. Now is never and never is now. Forever, forever.

Life is all ding-dong. University is still fantastic. I've been through my first period of serious disillusionment last week. It went tits up for a brief while mainly induced by the wretched and ever troublesome sexual spectrum. Not only that of course. I was generally in a state of utter restless disturbance, and yes of course it did some long term damage. But now I think I've got through it.

I've spent the weekend at home, in order to get an essay typed up and finished you see. I've spoken to a couple of people I've known online for ages but haven't really spoken with for over two months. It's strange really. I've not missed the internet at all, but I've really enjoyed talking to the few folks I have as online friends. I don't like internet chat, but fear not.. this isn't chat-room style chat. Anyhow, hopefully, soon Deejay will come to Manchester to rock'n'roll with me. I've been chatting with him for more than two years after playing online games with him and others. I don't even know what he looks like, but he's cool. I'm sure I can get him a few slut girls to make his visit rock some more! Alex, I've caught up with that old chestnut. Chestnut, why did I even say that word? He's great, he's more great now though. We don't even bitch at each other anymore, but he trained me in the art of gayness well. I couldn't have had a better master. And others. Wonderful.

Life is strange like that. Modern life is stranger.



In other news, I've got a new sketchpad and pastels. Why? Well, I'm writing well again - very well actually- and I'm absorbing even better, literature, music and other arts, so what the hell I may as well have a second spell trying to create visual art. This time I'm dropping the old conceptual ideas that plagued my attempts last time. In fact, for the first time I feel totally liberated and able to create things that have no meaning but merely feeling. It's wonderful, really wonderful.

I had an incident with my Ethics lecture last Monday. During a "essay structure" seminar (actually intended to be used for talking ethics, but by the by) when I refused to add to his structure on the grounds that I could not work to such a mechanical system. I was subsequently smirked at upon him making references to the "creative person".. grr! Oh well, at least I know I'm feeling more than he.



I feel like I've not so much changed. In fact I haven't changed at all. People who have "known" me in the past would say I've changed but in fact I haven't. Of course one develops every single day of life lived and I've lived many of my days of late, more than I used to. But actually changed? No, I was always here.

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Life.. Bizarre.. Love.. [02 Nov 2001|07:57pm]
[ mood | cheerful ]
[ music | Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers - Echo ]

I find it all quite bizarre. I used to understand life by the fact that it inevitably was a tired race to the grave. But I've now finally taken my stand and left the race. You see the whole of our educational system is wrong. Rather than aiming to educate people in order to free their minds it is geared to train them to be able to do a job and have a career. And University has become something one does in order to be able to get paid better than the rest of the plebs. This is of course wrong, outright wrong. The first ever University was the Academy set up by Plato to teach Philosophy. An Academic -as a side note- is hence not a person who happens to be studying at a University but in fact only those studying non-vocational subjects, such as Philosophy, Maths, Physics and Language.

Hence when Oldham Sixth Form College wrote to me to ask my post-A Level destination I mused for a second. I saw the literature they wanted the information for in my mind, and I heard the words of the business like management. So I wrote a letter to inform them that I had found happiness and contentment as a busker on the streets of Manchester. The truth in fact is that I haven't really lied- for we are planning busking for the people of Afghanistan anyway. The system is wrong, I realise that so much now I'm outside of the vocational spectrum. And you know, I'm so incredibly happy with what I'm doing. This is my calling. Everything is starting to come together and all the negatives that I used to sit worrying about no longer plague me. I'm becoming freer every single day, whereas before I was becoming less free every day I lived.

And my novel is no longer in a state of being on the shelf. The block has evaporated and I'm having so many wonderful ideas now. This book is going to carry with it Philosophical weight along with the story. I didn't know how to do that before, but I hadn't read anything by such Philosophers as Dostoevsky before.

And now here I am, socialising everyday with intelligent and open-minded people. That's wonderful, it's what I've lack for so long. Having to socialise with red-neck like common room clones once nearly made me literally insane such was the abuse it did to my mind, now I never even have to speak to anyone of that ilk again should I choose not to.

Was I once labelled as shy? Well, that was silly anyway. Maybe a little but quiet is a different thing. But none of it matters to me anymore, my past is so over. All I know is that I'm on the path that feels so much better than any I've ever been on before and for the first time I'm starting to see what the point of my existence is. It's a wonderful thing.

As for the more trivial matters.. I actually tried on Monday, but couldn't really grab his attention. I tried though, and that's a big thing for me because I've never tried before. Success may never come, but one must at least try. I don't even know why, but one must. I've actually got virtually no sex drive at the moment though, I'm after more pretty things than lust. There I said it, I do actually desire love after all. Bizarre, yes it is to me.

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Uni - tis okay [22 Oct 2001|06:06pm]
[ mood | bouncy ]
[ music | Manfred Mann - Age of Mann ]

I'm lucky. A lot of people tell me how they only know a few people off their course at Uni, whereas the Philosophy department is pretty together and there's loads of cool people doing it. Even though people see me as an easy going person it's always been an effort for me to get on with people. Yet it's been easy at University. It's bizarre. I expected this to be one of the hardest steps of my life, yet it's been one of the easiest. The key I think was to stop thinking so inwardly, and you can't do that anyway in a social situation. I suppose it's made me realise that I've spent the past 19 years crucifying myself, for no need.
I never managed to settle in at Playschool, Nursery, Infants, Juniors or Seniors. It took me a term at College and I realise now that even that was a compromised situation. It took a week at University. It's getting better all the time. One day I might even be able to make a good first impression, who knows.

It's also cool -I suppose- not having to tell people things about my past if I don't want to. Not that I'm hiding anything, it's just a nice thing to have what feels like a genuinely fresh start without all those faces I went to school with and grew up with. I'm glad to have left them behind. It may sound harsh, but my childhood was awful. Apart from having the best parents anyone could ever wish for, security and comfort. You see, there was no need for an unhappy youth.. I just set about myself. Teenage-angst eh! Genuinely I feel like it's all so long ago now. I'm so different to what I was six weeks ago. University I always thought was hailed too much to be a real life changer, but I've suddenly found out what the roots were for- to support the growth of the flower.

Where did all that come from? Getting trapped in conversation with the local gossip woman. I just suddenly realised how distant my past seems now. A distant ship, smoke on the horizon as the Pink Floyd put it. It's all such a written chapter in a finished book. I haven't stopped and thought about the past over the last six weeks, I've just rocked on. And I suppose discovered a little bit about who I am- away from the nest, away from my childhood. This is remarkable, it's wonderful. It's me and I'm so pleased to be doing this. I've never understood my brothers, 25 and 26 still living at home with mummy and daddy acting like children. I don't get that, I don't really care though because I'm doing the right thing and I know it, it's rare one can truly say that with confidence.

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Violation! - Cop-A-Girl [14 Oct 2001|05:41pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]
[ music | Oasis - Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants ]

I've never "snogged" a girl before. I've never "copped" before. And not in my 'local' .. 5th Avenue before. Bizarre though it may be, I have a terrible thing to report: a girl's tongue has been in my head, and a much worse thing: my tongue has been inside a girls head. It was brilliantly seedy and meaningless of course, the kind of thing the younger I vowed I'd never fall to. But she was on a mission of coppage offage with boyage, and I was on a mission of very drunk drinking and dancing.
She asked nice, she was polite and I think she was even attractive (in a objective manner you understand) but to be honest I can't recall her at all. I recall the kiss bit, that was kinda groovy. I'm a progressive rock'n'roll star. No really, I've been living like that of late. 6 beds in 7 nights, more alcohol than red blood cells in my body and a general Liam-but-nice outlook.
I've never been here before of course, and my friends may well raise an eyebrow but this is how it should be. No hang-ups, just progressive rock'n'roll.

Oasis, I still can't get my head round having been anal over them for so long, they are fantastic and Liam is a one hella cool guy.

Life is on the move. Even if the halls I live in keep sending me notes because I never do any of the things I'm supposed to, like register my keys etc. But that's it now, I'm out of the system.. I'm roaming and they can get fucked if they think I'm going to conform to their rules. And that goes for all society. But in particular I have made the decision that I shall not be paying back my student loan. Seeing as they will be ended by the time I'm finishing my first degree I refuse to be punished for developing intellect in this "nation" ... I and many others I'm sure will rather sue the Government than pay back this joke of a debt. It's not on, we all know it. Well this is life now. And yes I'm prepared to end up in jail, we should all try as many things as possible in our lives.

And you know, the most wonderful thing about this change in life has got to be a new sense of self-confidence. I'm rocking. I will never have the confidence for the boy market I'm sure, but that is so not important. For now I can wear, and have worn my Jousting style, black gothic pirate shirt into lectures and seminars and best of all in the Student Union bar afterwards too. Why is this so good? Well I've always been the shock-jock, one who would like to provoke thought and such. I believe in Socrates and his manner of confrontation. Before my life was mostly a series of beliefs, a book of theory. But now, now things are becoming real and I'm feeling myself inflating -not in an egotistical manner, but in a wise manner.

The girl thing. I'm pleased it happened. People say I'm not easy to predict and my behaviour is at best odd, but events like this remind me of my spontaneity and that I can’t predict my own behaviour.
To live with that edge I adore. I’m not a stupid ‘crazy’ head, because that’s dull and tedious. I just happen. Some days my refusal to make detailed plans and schedules means I meander aimlessly and don’t get things done, but it’s so much better than tying my own hands behind my back. Live life live.

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Normal, Oh. [07 Oct 2001|02:59pm]
[ mood | good ]
[ music | Rage Against the Machine - Guerilla Radio ]

I awoke in the garage in Delph, as you do when you live in Manchester City Centre! I have spent easily £50 on alcohol and going out this week, my head is a mush.
Went to 5th Ave with Kyle -home friend- on Friday and got very very drunk indeed. Went in and probably made arses of ourselves in front of my flatmates. It was a surreal time.. that I'm not going to say too much about because it is far far too outrageous.
Anyhow I shall now attempt to calm my spending down a little. Fab Cafe prices didn't help. Argh. Friccin' livin' is so gosh darn expensive.

In other words my life is a little bit "normal" at the moment, I mean like what other people would look at and think that it was quite "normal"... I'm lacking art galleries, French films, beat and hermitality. It's a worry yes. But how long can I last in a normalish world? Not long I dare say... although I enjoy 5th Ave the more I've been -so far the only non-Student Union venue I've visited more than once- and 'tis fab and shall go again this week. Helen -my adopted new sister- dragged me on to the dance floor first time, now I drag people... I love dancing like a twat to Indie/Metal. I mosh, Me.. peaceful, gentle me.. I mosh away and go ape-shit if something like Rage Against The Machine come on. Oh Oh and the other night they went: Beatles, Kinks and Deep Purple totally out of the blue and I swear I was just on another planet.

I'm still over dressed for a lot of places. My gay zipper top is coming in handy though I must say.. it doesn't make up for lack of campness but it makes a start.

Oasis too.. I've had a bizarre dislike for them for years, perhaps because their fans are yob-os. Which is odd for me, I normally see objective especially when it comes to music. And I'm not a big fan of them at all... but a few tracks played in 5th Ave I have really really enjoyed. So that's something new musically.

Well well, my travels go forth.

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[04 Oct 2001|09:00pm]
[ mood | amused ]
[ music | procul harum - a whiter shade of pale ]

I've just been thinking about this whole depression lark, it's actually.. no I won't even bother talking about it.
Sex though, that is amusing. It's as if it's the be-all end-all of life, and but it is clearly not. What is wrong with us all? I'd rather indulge in art to be honest. It does amuse me that I care so little about the only thing that seems to drive others. I'm fine without thanks.

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The Cycle [04 Oct 2001|06:40pm]
[ mood | depressed ]
[ music | The Band ]

..I live on a cycle, like a woman. Everything is fine and I'm happy and then for no reason at all I come over all depressed. But hey-ho.
It's strange. The once "shy" is no longer a quiet one in the corner but in the main thrust of social life. I've adapted much better than I could have hoped for.
I have bad days.. Tuesday saw ID checks, opening a gate on my head and thus blooded face and scar for life, walking down the road flies undone, setting fire to room and having flatmates evacuated from the flat, a stubbed toe and much more.. but Wednesday was okay.
Manchester still scares me. It's foul. Why did we ever move out of the trees in the first place -as Hitch Hikers goes.

So I'm on my period, I'm staying at home tonight. Last night was in a nightclub yet again and I was dying when I got home -literally- and I said "Padders can you hear me, can you see me" and the answer came "no. never." So things are different, but no longer different. A person is defined by their future desire, the past has had it's say and the only I know I shall never be is my past. That is life. The essence shall forth defined be by process of thought of mind. Fun is being had, more and more shall be had.

I may well have the stunning looks of a miscarried foetus, but for perhaps the first time in my life -outside drugged times- I think I'm actually starting to like myself.
Padders and Patrick happy as one, that time shall come soon. Just do it. Aye.

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The Events Of My 19th Birthday [28 Sep 2001|08:35pm]
[ mood | tired ]
[ music | The Beta Band - The Three L.P.'s ]

I was 19 yesterday, went a-drinking and ended up in 5th Avenue a-dancing, a-dancing like a twat. I dress badly, I’m not camp, I can’t dance and still I’m gay whereas the guy upstairs is as gay as a tray and yet straight with a girlfriend. Life –the more I live it- is so utterly confused and complicated that indeed I do wonder why we ever bothered to climb down from the trees in the first place.

Me dancing, and not for the first time.. Monday was the same, is quite a thing. Of course the music played in said club is Metal and Indie which allows much crazy jumping and all that. I look straight as ever, and make no mistake I have no lack of ease with my sexuality. Hence I think a lot of people act up and I’m just a shy boy. I’ve been coming out left-right and centre. Not that I make an issue of it, I’m just open very open as Patrick tends to be.

The people of Manchester are generally foul but the students are generally an alright bunch. There’s a lot of good folks particularly on my Philosophy course. And my flat-ies are alright but I haven’t got to know them much yet due to my space issues. They got me a card -which was nice. Anyhow foulness stenches forth otherwise, and the tramps aren’t even the worst folks about. Scally, inner-city ‘proper’ scallies are the ones to watch I out-witted a bunch of them when I was alone at 2:30am drunk as a skunk the other night. Only been there a week though, huh.

Gay though, the people on Philosophy and their lovely friends (oh how I pine) are just fab with it all, it’s very cool. I think I told people in my halls during in the below event but I was too drunk to remember. I’m still too big in the mind to indulge in the Manchester gay scene, it’s smallness surely. The idea seems a little alien to me, I’ve never “pulled” in my life and with my road accident demeanour never expect to do so. Sex –does it matter. I’m starting to be a social animal though oddly, not in the flat.. but I’m one of the most regular of regulars in the Student Union bar, us Philosophers are really alcoholics you know. And ME clubbing it, well lorks I’d never have thought it possible. Thank Padders that I was able to let a-go of my rigid stance for once and I’m starting to enjoy. Me enjoying life not for thoughts and deepness but for getting pissed and dancing like a loser.. and puking up once. Wow.

-- -- --

An event this morning..
It wasn’t deja-vu. That is a rapid bemusing but rather insignificant occurrence. Time seems to repeat itself soon after you have lived through it once yet it does not actually repeat but merely occurs for the first time. This seemed rather than to have been a trick of the mind or fault in the Matrix more a reoccurrence of an event that had taken place months beforehand and yet never actually took place then.

I found myself sat the stair-case area of the flats I now live in with people I only met last week. I was very drunk, it was about 3am and it was basically a drunken conversation about nothing much of sense. But I sat there, on the floor, we sat there on the floor and I realised I’d literally been there before. This of course cannot be as the building has only just been built, it didn’t exist at the time my memories pointed towards. How could I have dreamt all from the people to the paint on the walls?

Perhaps alcohol made it more outrageously bizarre. Perhaps not though. I’ve started to believe that the different levels of consciousness are with-holding far more than mere funny ‘been here before’ feelings. Life, I suspect is multi-layered and we are just aware of two or three levels, two of natural happening and a generalised other brought on by drugs. But if we do actually exist in a dream, how can we possibly say that physical day-to-day existence is any more of real than the seemingly artificial existence of a dream. And as thus there must be a possibility of this life not in fact being the be all and end all.

Previously I had followed a Nihilistic path of thought which involved a single level of existence. Death –if you will- was a final death. Whilst I’m still thinking quite closely to a bleak Nihilistic train I know have started to explore that perhaps physical existence is in no way real and as thus can not be said to be all. Sense is lacking in this Universe and when the answers are not tangible we often invent answers like a God. I’ve never believed in a God.. but the Universe lacks a tangible edge that one can hang on to and so you must ask yourself exactly why no sense is to be made of things.

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Home Again [23 Sep 2001|05:00pm]
24 little hours after leaving home and I was a-sitting on the 82 bus coming home again. The reason? I have no idea. City-Life is hard for me, as is living with folks. But above all I realised I had to get my guitar right away, 24 hours without her was hell on earth. It was then that I realised I am in fact only alive for music and Philosophy and art and such, and that perhaps I'll never feel at home in a city and certainly never be a party going sap.
I must return now, first impressions I've set on the seemingly alright folks I "live" with shall be of: Hermit-al oddness. But I'm only bothered about my head not how those folks should see me. And right now I need these green hills and this space.

24 hours and I realised just how much I take Saddleworth for granted. This is a special place, and I shall not forget that again as I lie waking by the motorway outside my citadel wall hole.

So until soon, I shall once more head to the city... and see if it can hold me for more than a single day this time.
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[20 Sep 2001|06:49pm]
[ mood | curious ]
[ music | Bob Dylan's "Love And Theft" new album ]

I should point out, this is a journal. Well a web journal, not a writers journal.. you'll never see what's in that :) There-hence-fore it's going to be like the old style news page only more thought led. Rather than moaning about X sending me X txt message it'll be more about thought Y occurs to me today due to experience Y. Or X. See?

The site will have all manner of great content. I'm still thinking most of it up... or will be doing soon. But keep an eye on the site as the wheels on the bus are once again going-a-round and round, earlie in the morning.

Drunkard sailors? At junior school? Even by that stage my answer to the question of what to do with him was somewhat below the belt. The mind tits-up at such thoughts of a drunken sailor.. Ah-hoy, me-matey.. pirate coming through.

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The Start Of New Starts And Such Gibberish [20 Sep 2001|06:25pm]
Hello, and welcome to the all new and utterly unfinished www.paddersg.com

On Monday I started Uni at Manchester doing a degree in Philosophee, me yes me. Scared was I? Well, anyone who knows me -which isn't many of you since the sites been down all summer- will know how I tend to pass out when I have to have injections and such "softie soft" traits run the warm and moist hollowed veins of my mortalistic carcass. Of course I was terrified starting, of course. I still am, we are at a very early stage.

I'm notoriously disinterested in small talk, and I'm well aware small talk is the vital key to getting to know people. So this is an exhausting pull for me, that and missing my homeland. I'm fighting adequately, I'm managing to hold off my internalising nature. Outgoing is another matter to come. But I have been more open to the mainstream of life. And small talk I was dying with on the first day or so but now I'm starting to act swiftly and move talk on to such things as Alan Partridge and Brass Eye. Comedy is a good thing to talk about, and on the back hand is a shiftily little test of personality. I mean if they like Friends but have no idea who Chris Morris is I'm heading full steam for the nearest exit. Not literally of course because I'll basically talk to anyone who will talk to me, but the point remains valid.

You know, cities are odd things. They say they are impersonal and cold, yet compared to my green green homeland I feel an immense social pressure. So many people packed together, no space for private thoughts. No time to stop, keep moving, keep moving, we'll be dead soon. I've never realised just how much I'm a country person till now. Like Bob Dylan moving from the country to New York, these are hard times to adjust to and yet somehow I know it's what I've got to do and the end result is desirable. Yet somewhere in me I also feel that it's all so wrong, and I draw up a mental illusion of myself sat beneath a tree in an empty field of the green hills of Saddleworth strumming on an old acoustic guitar, no cares nor worries just peace just peace.

Anyhow, I'm actually fully starting this Saturday, enrolment and getting things ready is over. Come Tuesday and it's Gay Two in the K2 (see?) club in the student union, I get in free because I joined the LGB and they gave me a GAY CARD. It's fab. They gave me a bag of stuff (everyone gives you a bag of "free" stuff [read "free" as "shit"])... which seems to have a condom and lube in it. Lorks Oh Lord I exclaim, I wish Padders was still alive, he used to have something called dignity. But dignity just holds you back. That said, even in the most unlikely of occurrences that sex was on offer to me I honestly am not sure I'd take it. There is a fundamental reason that this boy is nearly 19 and has yet not been violated in a sexual manner. There is a reason this boy struggles with the sea of faces that a city offers, and the headlong rush to the grave. There is a reason and I think that the reason is simply that I'm somewhere deep down egotistical enough to think that I shouldn't be another face in the sea or another notch on some trouser driven man's bed post. I AM, not one. The deepest depths of me craves individuality, and yet for the first time in my life I almost feel like just getting smashed and having a good time without thinking at all.

But the new I must deliver you -you being me, Patrick- is that for all the thought that hedonism and conformity are all too easy to fall into, you just can't fall to them. They aren't you and you aren't they. You are Patrick, you are Padders even, you are Patrick Allan, you are not Patrick Gannon. There is no natural you anymore, just a mesh of coloured wires. Which one needs to be cut? Well it's a random cut, hope for the best. You have gone down an artistic path of Nihilism... but you really must hope.

Sex though.. is it really that important? Can we not look at a faint abstract instead? Watch an art-house film? Music, music is far more than sex. Sodomy I may carry on saving back upon. I may continue my stance on boy love not lust, but that sounds naff and cheese. It's a mind eat.
until soon,

Patrick-upon-Padders
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Attacks On The USA 11th Sept 2001 [13 Sep 2001|11:53pm]
I'm wary about talking about this subject. It's far too easy to pontificate and become self-indulgent about these kind of issues, and I'm sure many are doing that. I hope to avoid that. But because that's how I'm writing I'm sure some of you will object to some of the things I shall say. But there are issue that I believe are being avoided because of the loss of life, and I'm afraid I feel a need to express some of these things.

The first and most fundamental point to make is the simple one of sympathy. For all those in anyway involved in the terrorist attacks. Terrorism and in fact any kind of violence I believe cannot be justified in today's society. What has happened in the USA is abhorrent and vile. To attack a military base is one thing, to attack office blocks with tens of thousands of mere office workers inside -regardless of symbolism- is a crime that can without doubt be labelled as evil.

I was sat recording a song, a demo, and my phone rang. My friend Kyle asked "have you seen BBC1? .. you'd better put it on." When he told me what was happening I genuinely didn't believe him. A plane had flown into one of the twin towers of the World Trade Centre, and I arrived at Sky News just as the second plane hit the other tower. The most shocking feeling I had upon viewing these events live on TV was that I had seen it all before. It looked exactly like a Hollywood movie. But this time there were no heroes to save the day, and people didn't just get killed they got murdered and stolen away from their families. You made the movies, now see the reality. But I sat through the afternoon unable to fully comprehend that this was real, it was utterly surreal.

The American TV reporter was down on the streets under the burning towers trying to interview firemen and people walking out clearly injured. He interviewed one man with a large cut on his head; he asked what he'd been doing. The man said that it was terrible and that'd he'd been trying to help people. After the reporter had his sound bites he told the man that he'd better get back in, as they needed all the help they could get. This is whilst he ran round the street asking firemen what their brief was and such questions, all in his nice clean suit. Literally a minute after saying that to the injured man in the background of the shot the man was seen being carried to medical attention. This may all seem an irrelevance to the mass murder. It is, but on the other hand it illustrates perfectly a certain nature of person. The media and those titillated by events. Those who go on camera and pontificate that this is a declaration of war. It's such utterly bad taste, as so many people die and so many families mourn it is outright wrong to capitalise on the sense of loss. You can see the media are excited by the thought of a war, and the military too and that's one of the sickest things to see in the face of this awful disaster. Do they have no heart or soul?

What happened at the World Trade Centre was beyond any kind of protest, it pushed back our understanding of the capacity of human hatred. The sensationalists got their kicks out of misreporting the size of the murder omitting such things as the holocaust, but the simple fact was it was happening today. It wasn't in the history books; it was live on TV happening before our eyes for the first time. We saw the images of people waving for attention from the burning towers just before they collapsed, and we saw people jumping out of windows to their deaths. Thousands of people died live as we watched in 2001. It was a brutal reminder that for all the talk of a modern world we are still no more than animals killing each other.

I see all these angry people shout words of hatred; do they not see it was exactly that behaviour that caused this in the first place? Anger and fear breeds hatred and hatred breeds murder. An eye for an eye and soon nobody in the world can see at all. Let's stop blinding new generation after new generation; let's stop the war.

This is no time for war. Nor further murders. Virtually every nation on earth has come out to condemn what has happened; some of the most unlikely of nations have expressed sympathy and shock. Surely this is the ideal starting place to bring justice. If all the nations stand together shoulder to shoulder the very few nations left would be utterly overwhelmed. If all trading and co-operation was to be withdrawn from any nation not to join the anti-terrorist alliance and they had not a single ally in the world how could they possibly go on harbouring terrorism? They can't survive in absolute isolation, they just can't. So never mind more bombs and more spilt blood lets actually talk about this, the mode of communication that separates us from the animals is our only hope of truly ridding the world of evil. The more fighting and the more killing that takes place the more hatred, resentment and fear is bred and the more terrorist attacks tomorrow's generations will make.

Violence is never the answer. NEVER. I say that unconditionally, as a pacifist and as a humanitarian. What gets me most is the constant use of God by the American media and people and politicians. The people who hijacked the planes likely did so with God on THEIR SIDE, and the USA has God on THEIR SIDE. Well in the words of Bob Dylan "if God is on our side then he'll stop the next war." I may be a none believer in God and religion, but I dare make the guess that this God entity no matter what or who it is would never ever condone humans killing each other. Forget this non-sense about innocent and not innocent people; the simple fact is they are people. A human killing another human is plain and simply wrong. "Revenge" for one tribe having people murdered is not justification to murder those in another tribe.

If we are going to be cold and look at this in a less emotive manner there is a terrible picture to be seen. What I'm about to say may well annoy some people, but as far as I'm concerned it's the truth hidden behind the hysteria.
In terms of black and white here we go: The USA and Britain (and allies) have been engaging in terrorist acts for years. And they hold guns to nations heads and make threats thinking that somehow that will make the nation more stable -ignoring the quite obvious reality that it makes them resentful and breads hatred. In the past they have often created enemies for political gain, look at Iran and Iraq. Saddam used to be the West's ally, now he's some kind of Hitler figure, the truth being nothing in particular changed other than the West themselves.

Interestingly all Saddam Hussein had to say about the matter was that you reap what you sow. This may seem harsh and uncaring, but his people have been repressed for a decade by distant nations who deem it their position to enforce their culture on people across the entire globe. Innocent people in his nation have been murdered by the West. Picture the innocent Iraqi family who look out of their window to see a cruise missile heading towards their five young children. Murder, Saddam is saying, leads to murder. I'm not saying Saddam is right, I'm merely pointing out that this is a vicious cycle and that more killing and murder will always just lead to more killing and murder. It's this very cycle that must be broken. We can't keep bullying and bombing people, it doesn't defeat them it just alienates them and leads to resentment.

President George W Bush is a heartless murderer. He has sentenced many people to death personally and now has the power to stop the death penalty but actually supports it. So never mind talk of "good and evil" as he put it, never mind talk of innocent and guilty parties. We're all guilty of society and innocent of humanity.

Though it's an issue for another day, I believe the only way to peace is for total disbandment of the military immediately. Britain should lead the way. We should disband the entire military and declare to the entire world that "WE WILL NOT FIGHT". And of course the Nuclear Weapons should be the first things banished to the history books. There would still be a UN Peace Keeping force, the main priority being to help in times of national crisis (such as driving fuel tankers in the petrol crisis.). But holding our hands up and declaring we shall never fight again would be a leap of faith in the human race, and gosh darn it this human race needs faith in itself. We aren't separate peoples, we are one species of animal, and we must come together now or forever kill each other.


~~*~~What Now~~*~~

The American attitude of isolation (or rather "ignorance") must surely now have been shattered. The world has seen that the USA is neither untouchable nor invincible and one can only hope this will be the one positive to come out of this most terrible event. It's time for the entire world to come together and talk amongst ourselves as human being to human being. Not religion to religion, not nationality to nationality, not even "east to west".

There has been talk that the USA considers the attacks to have been committed with weapons of mass destruction and as thus they won't rule out the use of similar weapons. To me this has to be one of the most moronic things I've heard in my entire life. Yes the planes caused mass destruction, but to even suggest using Nuclear devices in retaliation is the most perverse and sick thing I've ever heard. We are talking in much speculation now but I urge everyone that if this becomes any more realistic get out on to the streets, get to the embassies and protest. WE are responsible for this world and WE are responsible from trying out utmost to stop mass murder. Just as you feel angry and disgusted at whoever did this terrible act and how you'd feel a need to try and stop it if you knew before hand, the USA and NATO and anyone must be stopped from committing mass murder and screwing up the world even more.


As tens of thousands directly mourn and millions join them in an indirect outpouring of grief we must remain absolutely calm. We must fight those easily arrived at conclusions that punishment should come in the form of war and killing. It isn't the answer, it is the problem. We must stop the drive for murderous vengeance, just because we've seen animals murder doesn't mean we should be animals. We must fight the prejudice that shall arise from this terrible event. Already I've seen people on television saying terrible things about everything follower of Islam and even those just of that kind of ethnicity and clearly this is something we must fight against.

Those responsible for these terrible crimes must be brought to court. They must be made to explain their actions, no matter how uneasy the listening may be. We need to hear their voices and see their faces and we need to understand where and why their hatred has developed. It's only by understanding the problems that we can truly stop them from occurring again. We need to listen and we need to show understanding and indeed compassion. That may well be a leap of faith, but a leap of faith is what we need.


Bob Dylan's Masters Of War seems rather relevant..
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead
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This is a little queer [22 Jul 2001|04:11pm]
It's strange because here I am making the first entry into this journal long before I have even made the website it's supposed to go with. But you see I found something that I need to talk about but know I'll forget if I leave it.

I don't often search for myself on the internet but I was looking for old bits of website that had got lost in cyberspace.. anyway I found SHOCK another PADDERS! ... now Padders brings up websites about footwear stuff and for example padders.com is something to do with nappies (ironic I hear you cry). But this is another person...
at: http://www.angelfire.com/ma3/padders Now please, don't think it's me!

It's actually a very good website though. On first glance you may think it's all very kinky, but they've got some good stuff, go have a read! In fact it's more than good, it's fabtastic people!

Patrick Padders
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