Here are the life times
We await grief, slipping bonds
Of a troubled earth

We are so bereft
Those left distant and behind
Pouring a river

There is a peace though
For those gone well through the veil
Of a life well lived

I’m writing this straight after the last post, bad practice, but I discovered something by talking to a friend about all this stuff and i think that it is something that needs saying.  This post may not be safe for work, because it is likely, thought i don’t know yet, to contain things that are shall we say, “not current thinking”.



You might have seen the post Dad, if you ave not, read it, don’t read it, some of what it says may seem to be at oods with what I say here, some will not.

In a funny way I miss him, i always have, and always will; the weight physical abuse I suffered as a child falls on him, but in that post I tried to take some positives, because no life is entirely negative, and he left me some things that means I can do things for myself if I must.


Yes, he was abusive, and I was a sensitive child.  A stubborn one, I surpassed some of his abilities when i was 3 years old, I could read and he could not, and the never learned to.  I had to keep it a secret.

When i was 14 I was my mother’s chaperone, I realise now that this was because he thought she was having an affair and drinking too much.  he thought this was ok, we were his possessions after all, and I should have been old enough to enforce his will.  I didn’t.

How could I possibly enforce his will against my own mother?  She drank what she wanted to drink and saw who she wanted to see.  She did not as far as Know actually have an affair, but I was, however intelligent, just child.

My mother was an intelligent woman, and my father was an intelligent man, but she was slightly educated, and he was not.  The last of five boys and a girl raised in India to moderately prosperous parents, (My paternal Granddad was from Yorkshire), he suffered from a lack of education due to the start of the war and the privations of an educations system that had to be paid for at the point of entry.  he didn’t get an education, but he did drive the local chief of police around in his car when he was to young to have any sort of licence.

The boys in the family were all various educated or not, but I felt that he never had respect for his brothers, educations was “soft”.  (Contrast this to what he said to me on his deathbed when I was just in the first semester my my degree, that I was finally “In the right place”).  He worked in communal rented garages, running with my mother’s and his brother’s help a business for himself, he thought that working for other people was for wimps.

I wanted him to respect me, as Sons do; and I wanted to help in the garage, so I was raised around driving, (I have been doing fine manoeuvres in cars since I was 7 years of age, and driving longer since I was nine, these garages had a lot of communal space, not on the road), and raised around Page 3 Girls, (which I disapproved of and still do), and other Men who thought Men had to be MEN and thought a good clip around the earhole was the answer to practically anyhting.  Few of them could read, so I was a rpecious resource.  i said what I wanted and did what I wanted and they never hit me, because one they were afraid of my Dad, and two, equally as important they thought I might actually try and have a conversation with them.

Having “A conversation” with me was a risky thing, my mother was not very well educated, because of her sight, (wouldn’t happen now), but was educated nevertheless.  My aunts, and there were many, above and beyond the family boundaries, which were large anyhow, and female cousins all had been or were going to at least college.  Men were expected to apprentice and work, mostly work.  Leaving school as early as possible was de rigeur for the men of my family, getting a job, being smart, and rppeferebly able to read, but getting job was the important thing, in fact, education was for girls, who could afford to “fuck about until they get married”.  No I was a girl in their eyes, precisely because I was soft and weak and educated, and one other important thing; I may not understand humans very well, but I do have some pretty good analysis tools, and as a child these tools were even more powerful than now, in fact my whole self was a lot smarter way back then, and if spoke to these garage people, really spoke to them,  I was capable of disassembling them just with my words. They bullied and humiliated me sometimes, but I could make them break down and cry, I could reduce these men to tears whenever I liked because I had the power of words, the supreme power of being able to dissect and divert them, to tell them what they were thinking and mould them to my ways.  When they could get a grip, which was rare, they often said that it was like talking to their wives, no matter how they squirmed, the could not get out of what i wanted, which was to see them squirm if they had pissed me off.  I shamed them and humiliated them, and they did not understand how I had such power, but I did, by instinct and training, self-training, I had all the words, more than I do now.  I could be a wicked child.  More than once my Dad forbade me to talk to them, a garage shut up for a few days while someone had “Gone Fishing” was usually a sign that someone had got on the wrong side of me, and that they could not come and face their fellows.  That was my power.  I have put it away for more than 30 years now, because I realised that using my powers for evil, that is morally questionable.  Mind you it did save me from being bullied in the street, other kids wouldn’t thump me if they had to gone to their mommies and say that I “spoken” to them and they were afraid to go out.  Didn’t save me in school, but everywhere else, yeah.

Back to the point, which is that around me when I was young, women were educated, men were not.  it wasn’t the done thing in our extended family, I know that my Uncle Ritchie did have a fairly decent education, and was quite good at electronics as it was back in the day, but he did not have any respect.  I was compared to him for intelligence most often, but I got about the same amount of respect, which was really none, because I did the things the women did, which was to know things and be educated.


Now, where does that get us?  All the mathematicians I know are girls: OK, not true, I have met some of Jenny’s colleages, still MOST of them are girls.  Some of the courses I have taught have had girls outnumbering boys by a long way, and when it is not the case the girls do better.  They work harder.  They score more, generally.

there were more women teachers in school, and in primary school this is still the case, so I grew up with women being the educators, the source of wisdom and learning.  All my dots on learning come down on the side of feminine, because those dots that don’t, I don’t like’em.

Food for thought.

Oh and Ada Lovelace rools!

It wasn’t until I started this journey, no wait, maybe I have been on this journey for a long time…

Alright, it wasn’t until i started discussing it, no wait…

It wasn’t until I started to think about it.

Hang on I’m not sure what I have been thinking about now.

What is it to be a girl/woman?

I have been talking about this, obviously, a lot recently; but I have been talking about this a lot over the years, because I have worn skirts, in public, without bothering to make an excuse, for the last 20 odd years.  What is it that makes a woman?

Because recently this has become a particular issue, and I have developed the following theory.  Gender is fractal.  Ye gods that is a painfully complicated explanation.  For those of you who are going to look at the article and just say, “sorry, no”, fractals are self similar shapes, only similar not the same necessarily, which as you zoom in, (as the right hand part of the article shows), retain their complicated nature.  Think of a coastline, as you zoom in to it, you get more detail.

I maintain, right now, that as you zoom in to gender it retains its complexity.

In the majority of discussions about gender and gender issues in order to talk about things in broad terms, brush strokes of conversation, if you like, which ignores the complexity, because it is hard to get through the conversation.  Anyone can “zoom in” at any time,  usually by supplying a counter-example or simply being pedantic about definitions.  counter-examples are fine, pedantry is usually an indicator that my protagonist won’t allow another point of view other than their own, and I’m wasting my time talking.

You can always find a counter-example, I would maintain that you can always find a counter-example.  “Men are stronger than women“, but most Olympian women trained in strength are stronger than certainly any man on the street, and male Olympians trained in strength life more weight than the  women.  probably there is a woman out there in the world trained or not who might be stronger than any male Olympian, or maybe we just haven’t found the man who is stronger.  But then a “weak” woman lifts a car off her child who as been run over, a big car, bigger than any man can lift.  You see my point now I take it.

There are one or two areas that are fairly definite, if you want to have a baby you need a womb, (apart from any medical experiments), and you need to have sex with a man or at least get inseminated with material from a man, except of course recently they made a cell that one day could turn into a baby from the cells of two men.  Science confuses many things, but science is still good.

So this area is fairly definite, but anything else it seems is up for grabs.  There is always a counter example.

So what is it that makes me feel that I need to be more “womanly”.

I know that in conversation about emotions and about sexuality and sex and love, I am always told that I am womanly, but I never know what that means really.  I know what I feel, largely, but i don’t know why it makes me “womanly”

Returning to our fractal definition…

What we are as human beings, we are the sum of our experiences, the nature programmed into our brains, and the ghost in the machine, the thing that the scientists think drives us inside, our soul, our inner thinking, the true us if you like.

We live in this body, with our brain which many people think manifests a “soul”, (I do, but what the devil it is I couldn’t tell you), which is the ineffable part of us.  I can accept that, sometimes I think that we are more than the sum of our parts, that, for example, the theory of consciousness which says that “enough” of the differing parts of our brain has to be functioning in a certain mode, “awake” to be conscious, is right.  We have to have particular and sufficient parts of our brain to be “live” to be awake and aware.

Supposing that the same is true in my theory of gender as fractal?  Suppose that, what defines us in gender is not the gross physical body in which we are born, (by gross, i mean the larger entity, not that we are Urg, Gross), but the sum of our nature and nurture?  These influences might be reactionary, largely in my case I think, or they may be a consequence.

If we were to subscribe to a highly deficient point of view, for the sake of the model, that gender is masculine or feminine, (and do please try to remember that this for a model, not the full technicolour expression of life as it really is), then if we look at the border between the two and where to little dots go down, it is complex, not simple.  it is fine and the close we look the more complex it is, and the more likely to find that when we look our dots are not always on the side we thought when we looked at a large scale.  Hell some of our dots might straddle the border anyhow, and when we disassemble those dots we find that we are not m/f even in one area.

Nevertheless, larelgy we seem able to define ourselves as masculine or feminine, and I think  this is because we look at ourselves at a certain scale, we must, because we cannot get bogged down in detail all the time.  We  look at our dots in the male/female sides of our little mental maps and we are something.  (Look if you’re Gay or Bi or something else, you’re largely left out of this discussion for the simplicity of the model, not because I can’t cope, sorry, no derogation intended, life is way more complex that this model, just for the sake of being able to write about it).

We see on the face of the map of what we are and what we do that we are feminine/masculine.  There is no decision, largely, we just are.  I refer to my previous parenthesis again here, because we just are, there is no decide.

So maybe my map has changed, maybe I am looking at it on a different scale, maybe I have moved some dots, but I’m a girl now.  Just live with it.

EDIT – More than 50% of the women I know are scientists and mathematicians, bear this in mind when I use 50’s definitions of “woman activity”.  This is the modern age, I sometimes write about it in older, inappropriate language.  Sorry about that.

I wrote this post, Femininist, a couple of years ago, because I was tired of being that man wearing a skirt, and NOT trying to be Trans, A Girl, (well, alright a woman, but I’m still so young in my head…), gay, in drag or anything else.  When I was married my wife hated me wearing a skirt because she a “a little Welsh Girl”, bought up in rural Wales where, with all due respect, there are mostly farmers and Men must be Men.  As farming fails this culture is changing.  But she would fight like a tiger for it, my right to do it.  I had a lot of reasons for doing it, read the post.

My wearing skirts had a much more profound effect on my boys than I had thought we were more grown up as a society than we are.   While my friends are universally supportive of whatever I do, the general public is not.  Bigoted attitudes have come from parents and been passed clearly to their children.

Moving on.

Point is, that up until a short time ago I was just fighting the good fight, being that guy, taking care of my kids, teaching them that true equality does not come out of watching every word you say, (though I have been banging on at them for ten years now that the term “Gay” should not be used as a term of derogation, I have succeeded, largely), it comes out what real respect you pay, out of recognising the shortcomings of each side of the fence, (Equal pay anyone?  how about equal Marriage rights, let alone this article and my commenting blog), it comes out of accepting that people are not the same, and that our differences make us strong.

I was asked recently what the real difference is between Men and Women.  I don’t know, I am beginning to think that in an advanced, civilised, modern, society

that the differences are ineffable.  Nevertheless I have had to teach my boys to be Men, (as I have said elsewhere), one of the things that I have had to teach them is that they must respect women and a woman’s right to say no.  The flip side is that I have also had to teach them that they must trust any woman they are alone with implicitly, an accusation of rape or sexual molestation can blight a man’s life forever, true or not.  Let’s be clear here, this is about their behaviour, not necessarily about false accusations, though that possibility is included.  This is a dreadful thing to have to say to a young man, but I shall not dwell upon it, that’s not the point of this entry.

The point is that I have had misogyny when wearing skirts, in the street, and in work; at a University I might.  You can imagine that I slapped it down pretty hard.  I felt minimised, and I don’t bloody take that well.  Especially someone in Uni should be thinking about my head not my ass, or about if my skirt is “too white” and thus “too transparent in the sun”.  Fuck off.  I can tell the difference between jokes and misogyny.  I slapped down 18 year olds when I was doing my degree, sure as hell wasn’t going to take it from a work colleague.  And I might add that at the end of that degree, the now 21 year olds were right in my corner, and their parents thanked me for guiding their sons and daughters, for showing them that it was ok to be them.  Apparently many of my uni colleagues mentioned me to their parents, I didn’t think I had made that much of an impression really.  Many of them are still my friends, we’re around the country now, so this means Facebook, but they are mature and clever young Men and Women and I am proud of them if I may be so arrogant.

So why am I going Girly?

I ask myself this, and I outed myself on FaceBook without even meaning to as such, it came as just an off remark about wanting to be less mannish and enjoying the feminine clothes that I had been wearing recently, yes, drag mode, and enjoying the iodea that many of my friends see me as not worldly, (I am aware that have just insulted Real Women everywhere, sorry), and that I have had many many, talks with people about sex and love and child rearing and friendship and life and feelings and fashion

and shape and desire, and that all of them, ALL OF THEM, have eventually said to me,

Gosh Friday, you really are such a girl.

It’s not what I wear that makes me a girl inside, that is outside, I like it because I see men as not pretty, and I want to be pretty, well, alright, prettier, I don’t ever think I’ll get to pretty; it is what I say and do.  It is the sewing and the cleaning and the cooking, and the career break to look after children, (which by the way started and shagged my career path at the same time), the protesting at being a Man with what is done to men, (I refer you to the blog entry, Boys will be boys) once more), the tightness of corsets, the feeling that I’m missing a part of my body, (yes breasts), the feeling of emptiness in my belly because I can never carry a child under my heart, which has sometimes made me howl in the pain of that emptiness.  (So yes, ladies, I do know, intimately, something of what you are going through if you cannot get pregnant, except that there is, and never was any hope for me, I lived it vicariously through my wife, when we had our boys).  It is a hole in my very soul, and nothing can fill it. So yes I have been a “girl inside” for a long time.

Then my eldest son posted this thing, “Don’t assume I’m a Gender“, on FaceBook, a brave act I thought, but what he posted earlier, this image:-

He put this image on FaceBook from, and I realised that he was grown up at last, muchly, and that I should think about my situation.

I thought, “Damn, where it matters, inside, I am a girl.  Everyone recognises this, even if they can no longer tell me what it means to be a girl.

And I meet so many people who are Gay or Bi or Pan or something else.  I have no radar for these things, so I often I plant my size nines right in it, but truth is, I like the people I meet, because they are so open and accepting.

And I’m a girl.

I like doing girl things, whatever they are, I like the clothes, I like the attitude, (with some exceptions), I like dressing up, I like being me.  That seems to include being a girl.

The ultimate think about this was when I realised that despite still liking girls, women really, I am 48 years old after all, but there is a piece of me that want to be liked by women who like women.  That is complex.  It needs addressing another time.  Anyway I have a girlfriend/partner whom I love very much, and while our situation is never simple, I am not looking for a girlfriend or lover.  (I am sometimes looking for a companion, but that is also something that is best left for another time, suffice to say that my partner doesn’t enjoy movies or motorcycling and I enjoy the company of enthusiastic and adventurous young women for Movies, Motorcycling and Coffee.  Nothing more is necessary).

That paragraph went off on one.  Despite the fact that I like women for my sexual and companionship preferences, I am a girl, (I use this term because in my head I am still 18 years old) and I like to do the things that girls do, and wear the things that women wear. (Except the underpants, too flimsy, I like a bit of support ok?  You were curious, just admit it and move on).

I like being decorative in the ways that women are, I like having that share that is missing from me, I like being a girl.

And it seems that in many ways I have been on a journey to this even though I have not realised it.  It’s not through the wearing of skirts that this journey has been realised, and that is what is bizarre about it.  I know that people will think it is, and the total inability of men to recognise the difference between skirts and dresses, (ALL MEN everywhere ask me why I’m wearing a dress if they are going to ask, it is a kind of put down, a diminution of me because I wear skirts and do the woman thing on purpose, don’t think even for a minutes that I have not known this, I have known it always, if you have ever done this, then you should examine your life, because if you are not aware of it, then your misogyny is deeply ingrained and buried within you.  There is hope still, think before you speak.  The enlightened just don’t ask, it is in fact, binary.  Alright, the enlightened ask later if it comes up, and they don’t ask about dresses, they ask about the whole thing), does get in the way somewhat, but it’s the influence of my friends, and my boys that made me realise that I had a need not to hide any more.  I am what I am, and I have a need not to hide it, not be ashamed of it, not to be concealed behind my anger and my frustration.  I have genteel side that constantly struggles to come out.  As a man even my girlfriend struggles to come to terms with this side of me, but as a girl she sees it clearly within me, and responds with tenderness and gentility.  Come to that, when I am being especially girly most of my friends respond with gentleness.  I know this says a lot about our culture and what it is to be a man, and what it is to be a woman, and this will have to wait.

Point is, I choose now to live more as a girl, not because I have been getting ready all these years, whatever it may look like; I choose to live as a girl, because I finally realise that my body, my gender, and my upbringing is at odds with the feelings that I have inside.



As an aside, could people stop asking me if I wear skirts on my motorbike?  Would you ask a woman that or would you treat them as a sensible person who would wear the leather trousers just like a sensible man would.  It really does mark people out as uncomfortable and a bit daft as a result.  Actually I was being gentle instead of militant then.  it marks them about as being stupid and thick.  Quit it.


A final note; I have had plenty of friends on FaceBook immediately and without hesitation offer their support and congratulations for my “coming out”.  I didn’t mean to “come out” I was just talking.  But I have been deeply touched to the core of my being by their solicitude, congratulations and messages.  I regret nothing.


As usual spelling is suspect and negations may be missing.

In reply to my friends posting of this website on FaceBook
I’m going to say someting personal here, sorry but it needs saying.

I remember a conversation with one of my more ardent feminist friends, (Not my friend Judi, though I have repeated it to her…) a gentle person, but very ardent. While my divorce was happening, she used this phrase to me, that
“Boys will be boys”. nevermind that I have been fighting for an equality, wherein I am not accused of being a rapist of a potential paedophile simply because I am a man. Never mind that I have sensitiveity and feelings that have evenutally led me to conclude that I am a “Girl Inside” and increasingly outside too, because that is how I want to live , while still liking women as a sexual preference.

No, for my friend, my behaviour towards my then wife, (a noble and strong woman whom I respect and love still), my disrespect, in my friend’s eyes, towards my wife, was a function of the idea that “Boys will be boys”.

The hardest thing in the world was to talk her out of this. It meant that I had to own my behaviour about what I did and how I come to be where I am now, and what my feelings are about people. It meant that I had to explain carefully that I had not been drunk, or fallen over something, or had any other excuse for my behaviour; there are a lot of reasons for what I did, but let us just say that life is complex and I grew determined that I would not leave my single achillies heel, my beloved girlfriend, behind again. (And you, the reader must give total credit to my ex-wife for understanding this, and for behaving as nobly and patiently as anyone could ever expect. Obviously there are more complexities than this, but they are not for you dear reader).

I was appalled that someone could take away my responsibility and my power, a thing which I see being done to women practically daily, (and is equally appalling). I was appalled someone who had stood up for the rights of women, for equal rights and respect, for respect for the JOB of wiving, (I have claimed often that in the past I have been a housewife, because I have wanted people to see it as something that deserves respect and support. I stayed at home with my boys for the first five years, I have been a mother as well as a father), and take it away in the name of EXCUSING me. I need no excusing. If I am excused, then I am no better than that little boy. If I need excusing by women, other women as I increasingly think of it now, if as a man I need excusing, and I can be let off because I can’t help it, then yes, ladies, you really do treat men as children, and they are not in the end responsible for their own behaviour, we can’t be blamed if a fancy bit of skirt comes along, and we husbands are really another child as you so often minimise us as being.

Get this. Understand it. My most ardent feminist, strong minded friends have in the past categorised me as my wife’s “third child”. What a derogation of all my experinces! My parenting! My life as an adult, reduced in sentence to “How are your three boys?”

No wonder then that in my struggle to be grown up, I am rejecting the male within, and I shall probably continue to do so.

I will say this though, I have taught my boys to be Men. For us, Men talk about emotions, like babies, can talk about sex with respect and sensitivity, can embrace the feminine, have the highest respect for women and themselves as men. We enjoy the voluptuary and visual without wishing to coerce or diminish. We are flippant and caring, we are strong and sensitive.

But most of all, a man, like a woman, takes responsibility for his actions, and faces up to them, accepting reasons but not excuses, acquiring if possible understanding through talk and action. And we are not children, we are Men, and Women. Don’t diminish us by classing us as children.

It is my fault I’m divorced, not because “boys will be boys”, but because I foillowed a part of my heart. I did not ask permission, i did not consult, but I was determined and bloody-minded.  Eventually my patient and noble and strong wife decided that I was not at home and asked me to leave. That is my doing, I need no excuse. Don’t diminish me by making me a child, don’t diminish her suffering, and she has suffered, because she loved me devoutly and completely, by saying “Boys will be boys”.

Weighing in

So expect this to be an eclectic entry because I’m going to weigh in on a few issue.  As usual I’m a bad proof reader of my own material, so beware of any negation that I may leave out, and of me sounding tremendously right wing as a result, it’s probably a typo…

Though in THIS entry, I weigh in about a few things where you actually MIGHT think of me as right-wing as opposed to me tremendously left-wing stance, nevertheless, there we go..

Prince Harry

Who gives a fuck!?  I’m am reliably informed that “getting naked” is routine among the armed forces when partying hard; and that one of the reasons for this is that people who live and work in close quarters in highly stressful situations have less concerns about that sort of thing than the rest of the rather hung up population, (such hang up I suspect driven by the purient interest of the government, the church and the newspapers and most importantly business).  The human body should not intrinsically be offensive or of such interest and the only reason I can see for keeping it so is that the advertisers can use it to attract the eye when it is uncovered.


And by the way advertisers, it is incredibly cynical to put 15 year old girls in adverts and sex them up by airbrushing and clothes and then on the other hand have business the newspapers and the government remind us that they are only children.  How can we tell any more, the youthful population has become a miasma of smooth skin and thin chiqs.  In advertising anyhow, nothing is real.  Stop trying to confuse us, advertisers, with your Paedo approach to advertising.


What is real is my youngest son and his current girlfriend, 15 and just 16.  They play like children, play with language like teenagers and are totally age appropriate, they don’t pretend to be adults at the same time as being incredibly aware that they are growing up and that sometimes they have adult issues to talk about.  My son says “My god is everyone focussed on sex?  Is that all they have to worry about?  What about getting the last star on Mario?  And I have two more first editions to collect for my comics, and I have to think about getting a summer job next year and moving school, should I go to college or another school?  And damn it, I have to run another RP and finish my current novel.”

My favourite past-time, when in their presence, is getting his girlfriend to snort irn-bru down her nose with a carefully time witticism.  It’s funny.


Stand by and watch while these people die, Western Governments, you cowards.  No oil then eh?

Government, particularly the UK and the US

Yes, fuck off.

I have said before I really hate the American politics that drives the US to think that it is akin to old Rome, but 99.999% of American people I have ever met are lovely, I don’t have a problem with them.  What I do have a problem with is that the movie and music industry in America seems to have so much power.  Human life seem to be worth less than downloading a movie.  If someone downloads an album or a track or a movie, it seems to me that the compensation due if sued is worth exactly the retail price of the medium at the time of downloading, no less and no more.

And copyright trolls, you can fuck off too.

UK, stop exporting people to the states, there is no equality in it, or we would have heard of someone breaking our laws and coming over here to be tried, has that ever happened?  (Someone with knowledge about this weigh in please?)

Oh yeah, I haven’t forgotten about 9/11.  It was awful, it will always be awful, like the Japanese getting bombed with nukes (no, I am not remonstrating here), it was a psyche changing event.  It was awful, I remember it like yesterday, and it was dreadful beyond words.  For this, I have nothing but sympathy.


It is quite quite clear to me that the Government of the UK hates Virgin and will do its very best not to deal with them, I think Virgin got the West Coast Train line only because the Government could help it.

see and (west Coast rain lines)

and further back Camelot looks like losing the lottery, but they didn’t


And while we’re on this sort of thing, it is also clear that MP’s, the Newspapers especially Murdoch’s lot, and the Police, (the higher ups, not your hard working bobbies and support people), form a triumvirate of corruption in this country that should be stopped.  It can be stopped, bizarrely I think it might be stopped by the same elements, outraged honest MP’s , honest if mis-spelled newspapers, (yes Guardian I’m looking at you, and you’re not prefect either so clean up your act), and outraged officers who do not want to see the service bought into dis-repute.  It won’t be solved by revolution, blowing things up, setting fire to things or general rioting.

This sort of thing in particular is very corrupt indeed….

Don’t even get me started about the banks and quantitative easing that feeds directly into them so they can “lend money”.  The government, in the whole of Europe, has just turned into a sort of reverse pimp for the banks.


Actually, it might be solved by revolution.

But the nature of our revolution is not well understood I think, if it were, people other than the government would understand that it is going on right now, and that the government is actively suppressing it.  One of the ways in which they are suppressing it are the proposals to monitor us all even more closely than they do now.  I’ll be encrypting more stuff.

We must do more citizen journalism, more exposure, more questions.

We must ask the government over and over again, if you have nothing to be afraid of, then why do you need to monitor us.

Our government, like so many others, is scared, scared of us, scared of our power on the internet in particular, scared of what we can do when we have the information and what we will make them do.  We are on the cusp of the news work

Blogging and tweeting like this, (well not like this exactly, I am opining, not reporting, but in this medium), as well as downloading, (yes I do think it is an act of revolution, though I also think artists should be paid for their work), are acts of revolution done by a civilised society in which photographers are harassed for taking pictures in public, chips cannot be sold without fish if You’re not McDonalds at an event hat people have paid to go to, the thought police, (see are out, (yes I’m looking at you London 2012 Olympic Games), as well as the interest of sponsors coming before those of athletes, (see

It seems to me that this behaviour is merely a symptom of a large ill, the government is losing control over us, it has already lost control over the economy and we will crash again, and they are trying to take back control, on behalf of sponsors and the music industry and hollywood and many other interested parties who want us to be passive and obedient.

Well I *am* passive and obedient, more or less by accident, because I’m generally law abiding and just trying to get on with my life, but by God, you people are making me in to an activist.

You don’t want that, because if you’re making *me* into an activist, how many other people are you making into activists?  Hell I might even have to join a protest.

Governments are scared of us and our power.  The following picked up from my Facebook stream…

Suppression of protest. Governments are scared of us now.
Ongoing Mexico Revolution – Ignored by the MediaMexico, July 11, 2012. The largest protest in human history. USA and UK governments pushed the press not to publish. Google censored videos on youtube and restricted keywords on this event.

The Mexican media has blacking out the protests against their new government, who have been accused of doing everything from buying votes to buying off the media.If the corporate media won’t spread this story, then let’s spread the story. Share this all over your pages and your friend’s pages and help support the democracy movement in Mexico.

Photo: Ongoing Mexico Revolution - Ignored by the Media</p>
<p>Mexico, July 11, 2012. The largest protest in human history. USA and UK governments pushed the press not to publish. Google censored videos on youtube and restricted keywords on this event.</p>
<p>The Mexican media has blacking out the protests against their new government, who have been accused of doing everything from buying votes to buying off the media.</p>
<p>If the corporate media won’t spread this story, then let’s spread the story. Share this all over your pages and your friend’s pages and help support the democracy movement in Mexico.


Fuck you Taliban.  You are not human, really, and I don’t say that enough.  For this thing, just partying, they lose their lives, that’s a whole new level of control.

And fuck you western governments for allowing this.  You cannot be disinterested parties.

That is all.



Everyone rants about this, so I will just say this, this Guardian article provide a good analysis,, there are many others.

Rape is a serious business, I seem to remember that he is not even suspected of this, but the newspapers approximate it to this, rather dangerously, but whatever the case, he should face these charges.  He should not risk a lifetime of imprisonment and possibly death, (in the very extreme case) by extradition to the US and this is getting the way.

And that is enough about that and everything.


I got sent this last night.  Flanders and Swan are funny, but it did make me think.

I don’t make small talk, I’m not keen on large gatherings, (I prefer people in very small groups), new people scare me.  I’m shy.

Conversely, I like giving lectures and getting my students to interact, (I’m good at that), I like telling stories, I like running roleplay and letting my imagination run wild, and I wear skirts, even though, externally, I’m a man.  (Read this, skirts, it will piss you off or you will agree with it, I think).

Sometimes my words are on auto-pilot, because I don’t make small talk, I know damn well that I will ask people how they are more than once if they seem to expect me to say something and I have nothing to say, or if I feel they have not negotiated greetings properly, or if they have not given of themselves sufficiently for my inner dialogue to be satisfied.

I parenthesise a lot, because I have a pronounced stutter, if you know me, have you ever spotted it without being told?  You’re telling yourself you have right now I bet.  Be honest

All  conversations are circular to me, and none of my parenthetical remarks are irrelevant, I do not make, despite what you might think, non-sequiteurs, you are simply lagging behind the thread.  If you deliberately interrupt the flow of my thoughts, (not the same as interrupting the words, it’s a conversation after all), then you will have derailed me.  I know that people play this game, it’s not funny, it’s never been funny, it’s frustrating and annoying, it’s exactly the same as finishing sentences for someone with a pronounced stutter.  It’s hateful.  I have given up speaking to people who have played this “game”.  I cannot speak to them, they are not listening or participating in a conversation, they are waiting to derail me.  My inner voice knows when they are doing it, but I rarely listen to it, because if I did I would simply stop speaking, right there and then and leave.  I have done it once or twice, and people thought I was rude, and promptly entered self justification mode, (and in one case angry, aggressive and violent mode), when I left.

Conversations are circular and have an end.  You cannot rush me, or I will lose my thread.

People make me nervous, I don’t make small talk.  I like knowing who people are, I ask penetrating questions.

I’m open, people think I’m wide open, I’m not, I’m closed.  I realise that this is a dichotomy, live with it.

I’m a man, but I don’t feel like it, I feel like a girl inside, so people like Maggie Koerth-Baker, a good and brave woman, made me cry and cry because she had to make hard choices.

I’m shy, really shy, I would sometimes like to get to know someone other than my partner, (who is not at all possessive), intimately, deeply, physically, genuinely; but I am shy and when the opportunity has occasionally presented itself, I have demurred; sharing that, my body, my mind, it’s so personal, I’d be so vulnerable, so exposed.  And I don’t want to feel that I’m doing wrong by anyone, and society pressures us that being married and being faithful is the be all and end all of relationships, even though I know that is BullShit, because people go outside of that model of relationships A LOT, even when the face they put on to the world is otherwise.  I’m often berated or judged because I do not lie about these things.  I view the world as highly hypocritical because of this.

While I’m on this, what is wrong with people?  Sex is so much more than just putting the penis in the vagina (or where-ever) and wiggling it all about.  SO MUCH MORE, have you all lost the plot.  What about intellectual engagement, talking, playing, thinking, negotiating, and laughing?  That is why I’m always appalled at sex talk, I expect sex to involve a couple of hours at least, the very least.  Anything else is a just a stress relieving wank with your partner.  Legitimate, but not what I would call sex.

Anyway, because I know she will read this, I have a lovely time with my partner.


Boys and Girls, well, Men and Women.

I like talking to women better than men, generally, it harder to get men to open up, generally.

A lot of my men friends won’t see this at all.  That is because they are open, able to be honest, non-homophobic, non-nervous, chaps who are confident about themselves in conversation, as befits the role-playing, lecturing, teaching crowd I hang out with…

(The pub we RP is also good actually, a few Council worker types hang  out there and just accept us all, so our culture is spreading).

I like talking to women because I can talk about feelings and emotions readily, it enables to me to analyse and understand the human condition and me.  I do understanding only by analysis and experience, I have no innate talent for it, just some very good tools.  Also I can see you thinking.


I’m shy.

In order to be amongst people I pump myself up, mentally, internally, and lose some of my hyper-self-consciousness, the thing that would otherwise cripple me because I am too self aware.  I know people are going to say stupid, unaware, hurtful things to me because they think they are funny or because “He can take it, or he wouldn’t [wear skirts/lecture/be loud right now/tell that joke/do that thing — choose whatever the excuse for insensitivity/crassness is on this occasion]”

I have to prepare, I have to be ready to be amongst people, be mentally armoured, because out there it’s a dangerous world, and without my armour I might come back injured, again.









Because if one’s child can do this, then they have surpassed one.

You will go far my boy, I couldn’t be more proud.

Right now, RIGHT NOW, you’re everything I hoped and dreamed a child would be…

… and your brother no less, though naturally in entirely different ways.

Boys and Girls

As someone who has to stand up for doing girl things when I am clearly and blatantly a boy, (alright, given my age, “woman” things and “man”), this, from the BBC is a remarkable and advanced form of parenthood in my opinion, and I blog it here so that it is not forgotten, by me anyhow.

If I could send them a message of support I would.


Today, ten years ago I was working in Bangor University as a Research Associate.

We saw the second impact on the web from the computer lab, as one of the teacher trainees was watching the news in a lull.


Keep Calm, and Carry on.


Never forget.