cicero9

 
I really don't like LiveJournal.

I mean, it's served my purpose. But it's so advertised, so ugly, so mysterious, so annoying! They won't even let me change my own name without paying for the privilege.

So this blog which nobody reads is moving to somewhere else where it shan't be read! Follow if you dare:

tristansmells.tumblr.com

See what I mean? Why use this font now, just because I put a hyperlink in? SO ANNOYING.

Oh, for God's sake, I just changed it back! I'll just leave it.

Anywho, I'll probably be back when I decide that tumblr's hard to use, so don't despair.

Til then... tara!

Peter x

Okay, so I have a bit of a history of being promiscuous, and it's a fair history, because I was, and to a large extent am. But people keep calling me harsh, four-letter words to point out this history. That, too, is fine. As long as I don't care about the caller, they can think and say what they like about me.

It's when my closest friends do it that it hurts. And they don't seem to see that it does - they think that just because I am a choice four-letter word, it's okay to call me a choice four-letter word.

They also don't seem to realise that I can say no to sex. It's like, as far as they're concerned, I'm either boning someone or thinking about who next to bone -- that that is all I do, and I don't bother to take into account anyone's feelings, or who I'm getting with, or anything. Which, I hope, isn't really the case. I don't do stuff with people when it will hurt other people -- or, at least, I don't cross my own line of what's acceptable and what's not, which, I'll grant you, is a bit further along the scale of acceptableness than most people's lines; but I still don't cross it!

If anyone reads this and thinks it applies just to them, that it's an attack on them, it doesn't, it isn't. Several of my closest friends think this of me, and I'd like them all to stop.

So, yeah. How can I make them realise that I do actually have feelings and a heart? And do I have to stop... 'having a good time' to stop them being mean to me about it?

One of the most fascinating tools in the English language is the mechanism by which a noun can so easily slip off its heavy noun-boots and pull off its thick noun-jacket and slip so easily into some soft and silky verb-dress. Think about the word "Google" - originally a noun of course, but how often have you said, "I'll Google it" without batting an eyelid? Linguistically, a lot of our verbs which can be nouns too were nouns to start with. I can't think of an example (I was going to cite "kiss" but, it turns out, the noun and the verb were originally unrelated) but the ease of the movement from noun to verb is evident when one realises that nothing has to be changed. "Bed" gives "to bed". "Weekend" gives "to weekend". There it is, ready-packaged.

Not the case when turning verbs into nouns. There are ways of doing it, of course. The use of gerunds is popular (okay, so a gerund isn't a noun, but it does the same job). Think "writing". There's also adding a suffix - "to manage" gives "management" or "confusion". Of course, these aren't impossible to form - but the rules aren't so simple, and gerunds, as much as I utterly adore them, sometimes sound stifled in modern-day English. If you find yourself asking the question, "is that actually a word," it may well be you're dithering over noun formation.

And why does this matter? It matters because the way in which we form words, and the degree to which we are open to new words, or new uses of them, reflects the kind of language we build up. It could well be that the future of the English language will be dominated by the flexible, easy-going noun.

A last point, then; the metaphor I used at the start of this post is evidently not too apt. Nouns aren't the clunky, heavy-duty leather-jacket biker types I painted them out to be; that's the verb's role. And whilst our biker verbs are still wont to put on a dress and some makeup every now and again, it's an ugly fit. Nouns, however - they can easily slip off a sparkly outfit and clad themselves in some kinky leather. Nouns are the English language's sex appeal.

Another non-poem:

Gliding.
Gliding down the staircase
Like a hawk, who glides above still waters
And soft streams, with calls and
Cries and crazed dissension,
There is cruel but elegant softness
When you step towards me.

And I'm caught, a rabbit, myxi-frozen,
Sunk and sallow, food for predators; for
You.

Wild nightmares I can't escape. I...

 
I have a love-hate relationship with Valentine's Day. I hate it because I have yet to ever spend it with anyone; I always seem to be single over this one day, for some strange reason. And that makes me bitter and jealous and all the rest.

But despite being hopelessly single, I'm hopelessly romantic as well. And however much I silently loathe their affections, seeing a couple hand-in-hand and enjoying this festival of love still makes me go "awhh" as easily as any cute puppy or giggling baby. There's something inherently endearing about a day devoted to spending time with your loved one.

Critics of Valentine's Day, meanwhile, annoy me. They seem to have two major arguments. Firstly, they say that this day has become too commercialised. Secondly, they maintain that we should show our appreciations every day.

This is absurd. For one, who has the time to constantly shower one's loved one with the affection and attention which everyone knows they truly observe? Certainly not I. Valentine's Day is not about doing something once a year and then never doing it again. It's about stopping yourself making excuses, stopping yourself from putting other things first, stopping yourself prioritising unimportant things and making you focus on that one person today in full awareness that you can't possibly focus on them every single day.

And if you have a problem with commercialisation, there is a very simple solution. Don't buy into it. If you think cards are too expensive, make your own; gifts, too meaningless, bake your partner a cake. If restaurants are too pricey, a home-cooked meal is just as thoughtful. Okay, so businesses work hard to make money out of Valentine's Day. But if you have a problem with this, then just don't spend any cash on your partner. That doesn't mean the idea of giving them a token of your affection is inherently capitalistic. There are a lot of cheap ways you can be sweet, and in my opinion people who complain about the cost of Valentine's Day are just lazy. Sorry, but you are.

So what if this has become a capitalist's holiday? So what if it's an arbitrary day in the calendar? It's a sweet idea, it's romantic, and although I am determined to spend today miserable and alone, I am keenly aware that despite all that I am still in love with Valentine's Day.

Love sucks. They tell you it will make you happy, fulfilled, contented - but it just slowly drives you insane. It's like a drug in the worst kind of way - you become addicted even though you know it will eventually kill you, and it's hard to think of anything else but your next fix.

But at least with drugs it's a one-way thing. Not so with love. So much can go wrong. Either he loves you, and you can't stand him; or you love him, and he doesn't want to know. You can't win either way. Either you feel shit because you're guilty or you feel shit because you've been jilted.

That's why love is overrated, scary and unappealing.

Unfortunately, I still seem to want to love and be loved. I haven't quite given up on love yet. How disgustingly optimistic is that human cancer, hope. Pandora certainly did unleash great evil on the world.

So here I am again. I must say, it's a familiar scene, if not a friendly one. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more - or close the wall up with our English dead.

Peter x

Structure is how we define our lives. Order is what helps us succeed. Organisation is essential to humanity.

Do doctors treat patients in any old order or do they follow agreed procedure? Do writers put the end before the beginning, the revelation before the outline? Do mothers give birth to octogenarians, then watch as they oscillate between their twenties and their forties, their toddler-years and their teenage-years?

Or do we know what order things go in, and stick with that order, because that's how things are supposed to be, and things are better that way?

I do not think I am unreasonable when I ask for structure to the activities I involve myself in in life. I do not demand a five-point plan of everything I set my mind to, I merely do not like the concept of not knowing what happens next. I like the safety and sensibleness of having a plan. I guess that's why I like grammar so much.

So I am sick and tired of people telling me that they do not matter, or, worse, we're better off without them. That's simply absurd. We would be nowhere without order - most creation myths say something about some god or other creating something out of chaos, and it is, more or less, that which I believe in.

So, for god's sake, do not tell me that I need to not worry, I need to not have a plan. Because I do. And if you don't want to stick to a structure, then, I'm sorry, but I will not, cannot and should not work with you.

 
I seem to be forgetting how to flirt.
The ways to wend and weave my lures,
The ways to grab a boy's attentions,
The ways to grip a girl's imaginations,
And all that fun and innocence,
And not-so-innocence,
An armoury aimed at anyone and everyone.

I maintain that I am not a poet, nor trying to be one - the first line was an unwittingly rhythmic Facebook status, and on having this pointed out to me, the Muse came down upon me. Then, realising she had very little to work with in terms of talent... well, she did her best.

Peter x

I'm in love with the Gettysburg Address. It's... amazing.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

But why is it amazing? Well, let's start with one simple fact. It's short; And short is sweet. He doesn't give you a chance to be bored.

Then there's the reflection back to "our fathers", done with a touch of archaicness ("four score and seven") and a sneaky reference to the Declaration of Independence -- "dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal"-- contrasted with the "now" - this whole idea makes it seem like they are continuing on their fathers' work - it gives it continuity. Contrast for effect is used throughout this piece; note the phrase "living and dead", which is added in parenthesis.

Then it's littered with simple yet powerful judgements - "It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this", for example. He is telling you what to do, telling that the dead men were brave, telling you to fight on. No pussyfooting around the issues for Mr. Lincoln!

Note the sneaky inclusion of "God". In a religious society, that strengthens a speech significantly.

Lincoln's use of repetition excites me - for instance, he repeats "dedicate", "consecrate" and "hallow" a lot. Because of the nature of these self-aggrandising words, it's powerful. The most noticeable repetition he uses, of course, is "government of the people, by the people, for the people" - repetitive both in terms of the word "people" and the structure "preposition the people".

The day after this speech was made, it went viral; admittedly, not like a good YouTube video goes viral today but viral nonetheless, getting itself printed in all the Union's newspapers. I think that shows its power, as does the fact that a British student in 2011 can still love it - and ultimately, I think we have to conclude that when Lincoln said, "the world will little, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here" he was wholly wrong. I mean, the American Civil War's my speciality, and even I have absolutely no idea what happened at the Battle of Gettysburg.

Oh yeah, by the way, I've started a new collab channel with a bunch of other LGBT young people offering support and advice, linked with the awesome BGIOK (being gay is okay, people) website. Come check us out att http://www.dft.ba/-BGIOK.

In other news, I'm turning my YouTube channel into half classics, half grammar (whilst still alternating this with a blog). Next non-blog video, I'll be explaining the difference between "less" and "fewer", because people keep getting it wrong and it's annoying.

Also, an awesome awesome awesome etc. ad nauseum guy has made me a theme tune, so I now want to marry him and have his adopted babies. Look out for that!

Peter x