Blog While You Can...

Also known as the 'crap, my Internet/laptop/life is broken so make the most of the access while you can!' post...Except this is actually a serious blogging. Which must make a change. Right, better get on with it, then...

There are some things about my job that I really, really enjoy, to the point that it becomes so much more than just a job to me. One of these is the research project I'm currently undertaking - and have been doing off-and-on for a while now - on prostitution. What started as a throwaway comment in a meeting six months ago and then became a request to find out a bit more from my boss a few months later has shifted and turned into something that is now making me question my morals, opinions and everything I ever thought I stood for.

I have to be honest - while I would always have considered myself a feminist for my unswerving belief that women should not be subservient to men, a lot of the 'big issues' that feminists have discussed over the years kind of passed me by. I guess I was very fortunate that I was born when I was; my generation didn't have to fight and die for the right to vote and, by the time I'd started work, much of the original fighting for equal pay had been done. There are still battles to be fought on that front for sure, and like many young women my age I suppose I've been a bit lax and blase about the whole thing and done very little about it, but the fights over pornography and prostitution which characterised the early feminist marches never really entered my sphere of thought. I knew they happened, but I never gave much thought one way or the other to whether I considered them 'offensive' or not. As far as prostitution was concerned I had a vague notion that it ought to be legalised, if only to help protect the prostitutes themselves, but the amount of research I've done into this has made me completely and utterly rethink my opinions on the subject. If I'm honest, I'm still not entirely sure where I stand, but I know that I'm fascinated - hello, 4 new text books on the subject - and I'm almost positive I've found a cause...

The main feminist stance on this matter seems to be the radical feminist one, which basically states that all sex work equates to a violent misogyny and therefore is used by the patriarchy and its institutions to oppress women. This 'violence against women' discourse does NOT refer to the assaults, rapes and murders which sex workers endure; instead, it focuses on the idea that the actual SELLING of sex, the commodification of women's bodies (because in this view of prostitution, male and transgender sex workers are non-existent) is violence against women. Whether you're a student pole-dancing to help pay your extortionate tuition fees at medical school, a mother working in a massage parlour to help supplement your benefits, or a street sex worker funding a drug habit, you are all victims of this violence because (allegedly) a woman's essential being is so invested in her body and her sexuality that she is intrinsically damaged by being paid for sexual acts. I clearly missed this memo...Anyway, flippancy aside, I have serious, serious problems with this stance. Yes, I can sort of see the commodification argument, but I am deeply uncomfortable with the implied notion that 'violence' in this case DOESN'T focus on the higher-than-average rates of ACTUAL violence (murder, rape, attempted rape, assault etc) that sex workers face. This also implies that all men who pay for sex do so because as a gender they have an innate need to victimise, degrade and dominate women; that male sexuality is not about pleasure but a perversion born of their need to control and subjugate. Now I've met some bastards in my time, but come off it; how naive would you have to be to believe that every single bloke on the planet doesn't give a damn about anything other than reasserting the patriarchal dominant order every time he sleeps with someone? The human race would have died out long ago if that was the case.

A lot of the feminist opinion also highlights the plight of trafficked and exploited women and children in the sex trade. Now I'm not stupid; I know the sexual exploitation of children DOES happen and that women and children ARE trafficked across the world, but actually the numbers are not as high as certain sections of the community and media would have you believe. Where this happens, of course, we should do everything we possibly can to catch the perpetrators and help the victims (although just sending them straight back to their country of origin can often lead to them being resold to other traffickers, so there's lots of international work to be done there). Similarly, I fully support the flip side of the argument that there are sex workers who CHOOSE this line of work and again, I think we should respect that decision. It's not for everyone, but then again neither's flower arranging and we don't condemn florists in the Daily Mail. Personally, I guess I'm in the middle ground here; while we should support those who choose sex work and help those who are being trafficked and exploited, the majority of prostitutes are plying their trade to fund drug habits, supplement their incomes etc. There are a huge number of social and economic factors that drive people into prostitution; make headway on those and you'll start to deal with the issue itself.

There seem to be three main schools of thought on the prostitution problem and how to solve it: legalise it, or at least parts of it, as in the Netherlands and parts of Australia; regulate it, as in Ireland, or decriminalise the sex workers and instead focus on the 'punters', as in Sweden. The 'Swedish model' is what the last Government was seriously considering in 2006 when they last reviewed the situation; quite what the ConDem Nation (thanks, Ryan!) will do remains to be seen, but I have reservations about all three approaches. Legalising brothels, as in Victoria in Australia, or having managed street zones were touted as being safer for sex workers; however, illegal prostitution rocketed in Australia and so did the numbers of criminal gangs controlling the industry, which also happened in Amsterdam and led to the mayor removing the 'tolerance zones' in 2003. The managed areas often have strict codes of conduct as well, which can lead to prostitutes with drug problems not being permitted to work in indoor settings; and in countries such as Greece or Germany, where registration is a legal requirement for sex workers to regulate them, many simply refuse to sign up as they don't want the stigma of prostitution following them for the rest of their lives, especially if sex work is only a short term thing. The Swedish model focuses on arresting punters rather than prostitutes, which may well stop the 'revolving door' problem of fining sex workers and forcing them back onto the streets to pay said fine, but means that punters will be more nervy and may drive away the 'decent' ones, thus exposing the sex workers to even more harm.

And it's the harm statistics that have really opened my eyes to how horrendous the situation actually is. The mortality rate for sex workers is twelve times higher than the general population and in several different studies across the UK, over two thirds of the women spoken to had been attacked in some way. The rates of assaults, rapes, robberies and murders are horrendous; sex workers, especially street-based sex workers, are among the most vulnerable groups in the country. And not just by punters, either; in December 2003, a 25 year old woman who worked as a prostitute in Ipswich named Cara Martin-Brown was kicked and beaten to death by a local man who was NOT a punter. Be honest - you haven't heard of Cara, am I right? That's another thing that has made me feel ashamed: thank the Gods, the serial murder of women who work as prostitutes (because they are SO much more than that stereotype, thank you, mass media) doesn't happen very often; Peter Sutcliffe, Steven Wright and Stephen Griffiths are thankfully anomalies rather than the norm, but how many women who work as prostitutes who have been raped or beaten do we hear about? For that matter, unless it IS a serial killer running riot, the murder of sex workers generally goes unreported. These women are highly vulnerable; to enact laws that drives the sex trade further underground and forces sex workers to make snap decisions about which clients they'll go with is frankly irresponsible. For all the handwringing that went on at the time of the Ipswich murders, the country as a whole has done remarkably little to change either its opinions, moral judgements or anything to try and improve the situation. Handwringing doesn't save lives. Actions do.

I don't know what the answer is - if I did, I'd be either ludicrously rich or an insufferably smug know it all - but one thing I DO know is that, unless Britain as a whole wakes up and collectively does SOMETHING to get to grips with the issue of prostitution, even if it's just starting a debate on the subject, more women will be raped, beaten, robbed and killed on our streets. Jack the Ripper wasn't the first; Stephen Griffiths won't be the last. Not unless we do something.

I also know this: putting aside all issues of prostitution's morality, inevitability and the radical feminist and other debates, as you read this blog somewhere in the UK a woman is going out to sell sex. She might be lucky and come home again safe and sound; she may be robbed, or beaten or killed, but she will be out there and no amount of horrifying statistics is likely to change that. I know because I've spoken to several of the girls in the local area who work as prostitutes; I've done outreach with them and I've seen what they endure. I hope I never hear that any of them have been murdered, and I'm hopeful that the work I'm doing at the moment will go someway to bringing in a local strategy that can help us tackle the issue. I don't know. But I think about them a lot, and this whole thing has made me think again about my own moral judgements and opinions. It's not going to be easy, but we HAVE to start thinking about this otherwise we risk sending out the message that, as a society, we're content to condemn an entire section of the population to violence and death. After Ipswich we said never again. After Bradford we said never again. How many more times do we have to say never again before we really mean it...?

On National Domestic Abuse Awareness Week...

Some statistics for you...

1) 1 in 4 women in the UK will experience domestic abuse at some time in their life, as will 1 in 6 men.
2) Every minute, a domestic abuse related call will be made to a police force somewhere in the UK.
3) Less than 40% of domestic abuse cases will be reported to the police.
4) On average, a woman will be abused 35 times before she first calls the police.
5) In 30% of domestic abuse cases, the abuse started during pregnancy.
6) At least 750,000 children a year witness domestic violence, which can cause them physical, emotional, psychological and behavioural damage.
7) On average, two women a week are killed by a violent partner or ex-partner.

Pretty shocking stuff, isn't it? Oh, I know domestic abuse is 'my thing' and that I'll willingly stand on my soapbox and rant about it to all and sundry, but I honestly think these stats speak for themselves. How is it that in the 21st Century, when Man has been to the Moon, for goodness sake, we can still be so backwards when it comes to dealing with domestic abuse?

The current and accepted Government definition of domestic abuse is: any incident of threatening behaviour, violence or abuse (psychological, physical, sexual, financial or emotional) between adults who are or have been intimate partners or family members, regardless of gender or sexuality. In both my professional and my personal life, I have seen the damage that domestic abuse can do to women and children, for it is mainly women and children who are the victims of this crime.

It is never acceptable.

It is never right.

This week is National Domestic Abuse Awareness Week, which culminates in the International Day for the Elimination of Violence and Women on Thursday 25th November. I know I go on about it. I know I rant about it. But you know what? Until every woman and child feels safe in their home and can live without the threat of domestic abuse hanging over their heads, I and many other people simply won't shut up. And so I am asking anyone who read this please, please sign the White Ribbon Pledge; men, to show that you won't ever commit, condone or keep silent about violence to women; and women, that you will support men who honour this pledge. Unless we stand together we will never stop it, and no one should ever have to live in fear of the person they love. I signed the pledge. Now I'm asking you to do the same, to show your support. If you do just one thing on the internet today, make it this.

http://www.whiteribboncampaign.co.uk/

Thank you.

Love Kate xx

Liberty...But Only Within The Strict Ordinances Of The Regime...

As those of you who know and tolerate me will know by now, I can be a teeny bit vocal when it comes to politics. More than one of you will have been subjected to one of my rants about the bunch of muppets that pass for our elected leaders these days, among various other diatribes, and no doubt some of you (or all of you) have disagreed with me about something. And while I still stand by the statement that the current Government are bunch of posh morons with nary an iota of common sense amongst them, I am profoundly grateful to them for one thing - that I live in a country where, if I want to protest about David Cameron's idiotic policies or say that actually I don't really give a monkeys about William and Kate's wedding thank you very much, I can do so without fear of being gagged, tortured or thrown into prison for it.

The reason for this blog post is something that I read in the Times today (I know - posh, right?) But it really struck a chord with me, especially in the wake of the long-awaited release of Aung San Suu Kyi in Burma, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991 while under house arrest for her unflagging efforts to bring democracy and human rights to that troubled country. This years Nobel Peace Prize winner-elect is Liu Xiaobo of China, another tireless campaigner for human rights in democracy in yet another troubled country. I say winner-elect because, if Mr Liu or a member of his family are unable to collect the prize, it may well not be awarded at all. Mr Liu is, however, in prison, his wife is currently under house arrest and the Chinese Government have just banned the rest of his family from travelling outside the country. Their crime? To attempt to bring democracy and basic human rights to a regime that point-blank refuses to acknowledge that such things exist. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 21st century...

What has made this even more bizarre, apart from the obvious fact of locking up someone who hasn't actually done anything wrong, has been China's response to the news. When Mr Liu's wife went for her monthly visit to the prison two days after the announcement and told him the good news, the authorities promptly had her locked up under house arrest. They have also accused the Nobel Committee of all kinds of shenanigans, and have even written to all the other nations asking them to boycott the event. Surprise, surprise, Russia are going along with their demands. *rolls eyes*

So what exactly did Liu Xiaobo actually DO to merit such treatment? Well, in the words of the Committee who have, despite the 'advice' of China, decided to award the prize, Mr Liu has been involved in "a long and non-violent struggle for fundamental human rights in China". He is currently two years into an eleven year sentence for 'subversion', whatever the hell that means, and co-wrote Charter 08, a document designed to promote political reform and human rights in China. It was for his involvement in this document that he was arrested, just a few hours before it was published, and many others who have signed this document have also been taken in and 'questioned'. All for trying to introduce to their country the same basic rights and dignities we in the Westernized world selfishly take for granted.

It's actually impossible to underestimate the bravery of this man, just as it's impossible to underestimate the bravery of Aung San Suu Kiyi. To try and save themselves from the embarrassment of having a Nobel prize winner in jail, the government of China have made Mr Liu an offer, one they've made to other 'awkward' prisoners in the past such as Wang Dan, the student leader of the demonstrations that eventually led to the outrageous massacre of Tianamen Square in 1989. If he will apply for medical parole and sign a 'confession', they'll release him from prison and he will be exiled from the country forever. But, like so many other brave men and women who exist under the oppressive regime in China, Mr Liu has refused to sign any such spurious confession, preferring instead to serve his sentence and stay in China in order to better serve his country.

Liu Xiaobo's courage, like that of so many others around the world, is humbling. Next time I complain bitterly about some ridiculous law of Government in this country, I shall do so with thanks to the Powers That Be that I can do so freely and openly, that I can join a protest march in London or petition against the leaders of the land; and I shall also think of Mr Liu in his prison cell, of Aung San Suu Kiyi as she adjusts to her freedom, and of the hundreds of thousands of other men, women and children across the world who don't have that right...

The Pope Show

I swore I wasn't going to do this post. I promised myself that I wasn't going to do it, because I know there are many people out there who are passionate about their beliefs and, although I may not agree with you about it, I have always said I would defend to the death your right to worship however you see fit (as long as you don't push it down anyone else's throat. Especially mine). I even, shock horror, found myself defending the Catholic Church last Sunday in an argument with my Anglican grandmother, when I quite reasonably pointed out that not every priest is a paedophile and it isn't part of their job description. Yes, of course what has happened in the Catholic Church (and no doubt many other organisations over the years - look at orphanages and boarding schools) is horrendous; words can't accurately describe just how vile and reprehensible it is, and frankly the attitude of the Pope and the rest of the powers-that-be to the whole thing has been despicable, but bad apples and barrels, y'know? Believe me, no one was more surprised than I was by my sudden impassioned defence...

However. Oh, but however...No longer can I keep my big trap shut, and so this is going to be a bit of a ranty, what-the-fuck kind of post. Now that His Popeness is actually here, I'm starting to get slightly sickened by the whole freaking charade.

First of all, I find it completely ludicrous that in a nominally-Anglican country, the tax-payer is expected to contribute towards the cost of the whole shebang. We're facing horrendous cuts thanks to the retarded attitude of our Government; if we were a Catholic country I could maybe understand it, but we aren't. And why the hell is the whole thing being treated as a state visit? The Pope is the head of a religious sect to all intents and purposes, not a visiting President or monarch; why we have to treat him any differently is beyond me. The Catholic Church wanted him here, fair enough - he is their spiritual leader, after all - but then they should foot the bill. It's not a state visit in my eyes, so I want my money back, please. Give it to a charity that works in AIDS research, or put it towards a fund to help pay for counselling for the children abused by priests...

There is also the small issue of the whole attitude of the Catholic Church - and recently reiterated by His Popeness - with regard to women (although I couldn't give a hoot about women bishops, my inner Feminazi screams in unbridled fury at the implication that my gender makes me a lesser being in the eyes of some constructed faith - that's patriarchy for you); homosexuality, and the general attitude towards contraception. Now correct me if I'm wrong (I lay no claim to being an expert on the Bible; I've never read it) but I'm not aware that it actually states in black and white 'thou shalt never wear condoms'. Besides that, even if it did (and I know there's the whole 'go forth and multiply' directive), things have changed in the past 2000 years or so; Jesus and his happy band of followers didn't have to worry about HIV and AIDS whereas we, sadly, do, and how anyone with any modicum of influence and control over people (like the Pope) can stand by and actively encourage people not to use condoms when the rates of HIV and AIDS are going through the roof (especially to the faithful in Africa)...well, as far as I'm concerned he's as good as killed those people. And, of course, his attitude to abortion makes me sick. So when I have some terrified woman in front of me, crying her eyes out because she got pregnant after being raped in an alleyway, or a woman whose health and life will be put at risk if she has this baby which the Church is encouraging her to have anyway because of the whole 'multiply' edict, all I can do is tell her she can't have an abortion or she'll go to hell? Yeah, that's compassionate. Love thy neighbour and all that. Nice one.

But the whole tragic spectacle has become more and more ludicrous with each day that passes, especially now he's actually here. Even before he got here one of the aides compared Britain to a Third World country; when, offended, the Brits reacted, the Vatican's idea of damage control (apart from the sudden and inexplicably well timed attack of gout suffered by said Cardinal) was, "no, no, no, we didn't mean it like THAT! We were referring to how multicultural you are!" Ah good - so you're all racist as well then? Glad we got that one cleared up...

Then, of course, there was The Speech yesterday, followed by The Speech today. Basically, the Pope has come to Britain to try and return it to the Holy Church; to turn back the tide of secularism and atheism that has swept the country and which has caused the marginalisation of religion.

Ok, first of all...most people in this country don't give a shit. We are nominally an Anglican country, not Catholic, and haven't been since Henry the Eighth thought Anne Boleyn looked a bit of a goer; therefore we don't really give a flying monkey about coming back to Holy Mother Church. It was a bad break up, I'll admit but please, move on. We're so over it. I'd say most people in this country would either describe themselves as Agnostic or Atheist anyway, unless you're one of our multicultural brothers and sisters, in which case we know what the Pope thinks of you...he's already slated other religions because, let's face it, you aren't the 'true' religion like his is. Allegedly. So yeah, this is my first problem with his crusade.

The other thing is...well, I guess he needs to sack his advisers. If I were Pope (fat chance as I'm a woman. Oh yeah, and a Pagan-heathen-burning-in-hell-non-believer), and I were coming to the UK on a mission to try and repair the damage of recent scandals and atrocities and to bring people back to the Light of the Lord, I would want to show the world how wonderful my religion is. I would actively want to get out there and spread the word, to bring people who have left in disgust back to the church and to maybe spark the interest of others who previously had no faith, so that they could seek out the information for themselves and maybe - just maybe - find spiritual peace in my faith. What I would not do is come over here and denounce the whole bloody lot of you as 'dangerous atheists', compare secularism and atheism to Nazism, and tell a load of schoolchildren that science was a bad thing. Way to win friends and influence people. It actually makes me even more antagonistic towards religion, especially Catholicism, to have this man come over here and start bitching about how unfair it is that he and his church don't have the power and influence they once did. I don't care for organised religion and I never have, although I find all religions deeply interesting. What I don't appreciate is being told that I'm going to burn for all eternity because I chose to use my brain instead of blindly following some invisible entity. My faith is in Nature, so it's sort-of Pagan/Wiccan but not strictly; this doesn't make me a bad person. Forced conversion, however, does; something organised religions seem to be only too familiar with (and they all have very short memories, it seems. She says, having the obligatory pop at Islam and Judaism as well - I don't discriminate in my antipathy and anger. Although you never get militant Buddhists, it seems...)

Yes, Christianity may be getting marginalised in the UK today, but that's because we live in the modern era instead of clinging to archaic and outdated rules. For those who choose to believe, whether that's in God, Allah or the Pink Unicorn of the Seventh Sanctum, there is a place for them in Britain, and we should never lose sight of the fact that this country has (mostly) always been a safe place for people to practice their religion (it got a little hazy in the middle for a while, what with Catholics being burnt and then Protestants/Anglicans being burnt, and the Jews being persecuted, and the Puritans so on). But we can still be nice people, nice human beings, without believing in Catholicism or any other religion. Similarly, as the recent problems within the church have shown, you can be a man of God and still be an utterly reprehensible human being - and the Pope's way of dealing with this is to make some half-arsed apology to people and then tell us that instead of bringing these bastards to justice, we should pray for them. Only after I castrate them with blunt nail scissors and see them put before a court of law, because strangely enough - secular though it may seem, Your Popeness - that's how we do things in the real world.

I'm sick of the whole sorry charade now and I can't wait until he goes back to Rome. Although this whole blog could just be because I'm bitter about the fact that I haven't lined the church's coffers by not owning any of the official merchandise; maybe if I had a 'Benedictaphone' to sing into, I wouldn't be so recalcitrant and secular. Or I could just be a realist...

Yes, It's Fucking Political!!!

Sometimes the world is a wonderful place, full of magick and abundance, when butterflies dance on shafts of light and there is music and mystery in the babbling brooks and on the gentle breezes. And sometimes the world is like the playground bully who steals your lunch money, punches you in the guts and then, for good measure, kicks sand in your face before running off laughing with your best friend.

When this happens, there are two strategies you can adopt. The first is to scream obscenities in the general direction of the All-Powerful Force of the Universe, shaking your fist and screaming how unfair the whole thing is before collapsing in a sobbing, hysterical heap on the floor. The second, always advocated by the hippy-dippy or ultra-religious lot, is to Count Your Blessings; the idea being that even in the depths of your ultimate despair you'll still be able to summon up the oomph to thank whichever Power you believe in that you aren't a starving African child or a victim of the Haitian earthquake. Clearly those people have never been in the depths of a depression so powerful that actually being a starving African child is preferable to your own miserable existence. Unless it's a starving African child adopted by Angelina Jolie or Madonna; then I think I'll stick with the pit of depression.

I, however, favour a third way. Although I try and count 3 good things that have happened to me each day and chronicle them in my notebook (I know; I'm such a hippy), there are always other things that I know I can count on when the going gets really, really tough...

1) My family, specifically my mum. Even when I have been the most unbearably awful child imaginable, shrieking in hysterical hypochondria or just generally being a complete cow, she is always, always there for me. I wish that everyone could be so lucky to have such a mother; however, no matter how much I love you, you cannot have her - she is mine and I won't do sharesies!!

2) My friends. They are all so different and yet all so dear to me. 'Nuff said, really.

3) Books. Opening a book is like opening a door into another world. There is always something new and wondrous to discover and sometimes you need to be taken out of the craptacular real world for a bit and play somewhere else.

4) Music. Ahh, music. Now this is always guaranteed to make my day because there is quite literally a song for every occasion; something to make the mood and the moment feel more intense. Music soothes the savage beast, it is the food of love and it's the best thing to get you through the good, the bad, the indifferent and just about anything you can think of. A few examples of my own personal soundtrack to life...

* Songs for expressing your righteous anger at the scumbags that somehow pass as politicians these days, with their smug smiles and their silly Eton haircuts: Yes, It's Fucking Political by Skunk Anansie; Take The Power Back by Rage Against The Machine; Fuck You by Lily Allen.
* Songs for being a general pain in "The Man's" butt: anything by Rage Against The Machine, really, but Killing In The Name Of goes down well...or not!
* Songs that remind me of my friends: Trash by Suede; Rasputin by Turisas; Escapist by Nightwish and (for Lee) Don't Stop Movin' by S Club 7. Remember lunchtimes in the pub, Lee-Lee? Ahh, happy days...
* Songs for getting over a break up: A Child That Walks In The Path Of A Man by Angtoria; Fighter by Christina Aguilera; A Rancid Romance by Diablo Swing Orchestra; Liar by Emilie Autumn; Smoke and Mirrors by Paloma Faith.
* Songs that take me right back to my teenage years: Weak by Skunk Anansie; Trash by Suede; Stupid Girl by Garbage; Yourself by the Manic Street Preachers; Bohemian Like You by the Dandy Warhols; Paint Pastel Princess by Silverchair; Local Boy in the Photograph by the Stereophonics; Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana.
* Songs for a bit of a 'feminist' moment: She's Like Thunder by Doro; Return of the Mother by Nina Hagen; Bitch by Sarah Jezebel Deva; That's What the Wise Lady Said by Angtoria; Why Didn't You Call Me by Macy Gray.
* Songs for my 'girlie fae' moments: What If, Rapunzel and Juliet, all by Emilie Autumn; Queen of the May, Wytches, Pagan Born, Heartbeat of the Earth, Midnight Queen, Beltane and pretty much anything by Inkubus Sukkubus.
* Songs guaranteed to reduce me to tears: Unintended and Sing For Absolution by Muse; Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley; Name by the Goo Goo Dolls; Feint by Epica; Bother by Corey Taylor; Piece of my Heart by Janis Joplin; Peace is Free by Black Stone Cherry; This is Yesterday by the Manic Street Preachers; Breathe by Abney Park; Faraway Vol. 2 by Apocalyptica.
* Songs that are better than Prozac: Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine; National Express by the Divine Comedy; The Ballad of Tom Jones by Spaced with Cerys Matthews; She Bangs by Ricky Martin; Love Machine by Girls Aloud; Airship Pirates by Abney Park; Wild Dances by Ruslana; anything by Lordi and anything by Motley Crue. Oh, and Du Hast and Pussy by Rammstein. Pussy also fits into the "songs that are not appropriate for singing in public as I found out to my eternal shame" category, along with 'The Devil is a Loser' by Lordi. Ahem...

So yeah, there you go. Quite a mixed bag, and that's only the stuff I've listened to recently or the categories that have been most appropriate recently. There are, of course, a million million more songs for both all of these categories and any other category you can think of. I honestly can't imagine my life without any of these four things, to be honest; if 'Heaven' is a place without my mum, my friends, my books and my music, you can keep it. Ooh, now there's a topic for a musical playlist...

On 9/11

Nine years ago today, I was preparing to embark on one of the biggest adventures of my life. In a week's time, I would be starting university, the first person in my immediate family to do so, and I was simultaneously excited and terrified by the prospect. Enjoying my last week of freedom before I had to knuckle down and become 'a university student', I was also glad to still be at home because my mum was recovering from an operation on her neck and although she was well on the road to recovery, it was good to be able to keep an eye on her. We had spent the morning watching trashy TV, gossiping and discussing my upcoming student-ness. That was when the BBC announcer advised that they were going to the newsroom for a special report. We rolled our eyes, laughed about "what the hell has happened now?" and waited. And then didn't move for the rest of the afternoon.

We sat and watched in horror as the cameras focused on the North Tower of the World Trade Centre, smoke billowing from its heights. A tragic accident, we surmised, as did most people caught up in the news story. And then...well, we all know what happens next.

On the ninth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on America, the sight of the second plane ploughing into the South Tower of the WTC has lost none of its impact or ability to shock. The iconic images of that day and the associated feelings that they conjure up, even after all this time, can never and should never be underestimated. Many people I know roll their eyes when people say 9/11 changed the world, dubbing it a product of media overraction; of American grandiosity and self-justifaction, but the truth is that the events of that day did change the world: it changed America; it changed the Islamic world and it changed, overtly or not, every other nation. It led America, Britain and other allied nations into the wars in Afghanistan and, subsequently, in Iraq. It changed the way we travel by plane. It made a previously unheard-of Saudi man the most wanted man in the world and it tested politicians, military personnel and civilians to the limits. Nothing like this could have been foreseen; no plan could ever have been laid down for what to do in this situation and yet ordinary people somehow, someway found the strength and resiliance to get through and to help others. Men and women who previously had been office workers, flight attendents, former military personnel; people who were husbands and wives, parents, brothers, sisters...they found the courage to cope with this extraordinary set of circumstances and, in many cases, to perform unthinkable acts of bravery.

9/11 changed the world as we know it but, nine years on, can we really say that we've learnt anything from it. The recent furore over the Florida preacher threating to burn the Qur'an today, the ongoing struggles in Afghanistan and Iraq to this day, the rise of Islamophobia and fundamentalism of all kinds...there were lessons to be learnt and I wonder whether people really have. Hatred and intolerance seem to be on the increase, and it's those attitudes that increase the likelihood of another attack somewhere in the world.

Hatred begets hatred. Intolerance begets intolerance. Discrimination begets discrimination. We need to learn the lessons that 9/11 and 7/7 taught us and rise above these things, to work together to overcome the evils of this world and do what we can to make it a safer place for the generations to come.

Fundamentalism, Tolerance and the American Dream

Next week is the ninth anniversary of what will forever be known as '9/11'. What happened on that day is something that lives in the collective consciousness of everyone who witnessed the event; we can never underestimate the worldwide changes that were brought about by such shocking events. The civilised world stood shoulder to shoulder with America in grief and shock; when the US President and Senate advocated war with Afghanistan and then Iraq, America's allies - Britain included - went in with them.

This isn't going to degenerate into yet another anti-war rant; frankly, it seems ridiculous to keep going on about how legal or illegal the war was, or how justified we can claim it to be. Not even the recent shenanigans with the US finally pulling combat troops out of Iraq (cos we won that one, apparently) or the hoo-ha about Tony Blair's book are justifications for going over and over what happened. Besides, I'm fairly certain that those of you who know me are pretty clued in to my feelings about the two military campaigns...But what has completely pole-axed me - and yet doesn't really surprise me in the slightest - is the recent news coming out of America relating to the news that an Islamic Cultural Centre is to open two blocks away from Ground Zero.

I'm going to indulge in a few sweeping generalisations here, for which I hope anyone reading this will forgive me. Naturally there are exceptions to every rule; indeed, I know several exceptions to the very statements I'm going to make, but there are times when the old sweeping generalisation is the most accurate statement. So...America has always traditionally harped on about being "the Land of the Free" and how tolerant and accepting they are; look at us, they cry, for did we not rise as a nation from the ashes of other countries? Are our people not the people of the world, for we came as immigrants from far and wide to settle this land. (This of course conveniently neglects the indigenous population who were there all along, but as many Americans have and still do the same thing, I find this a justifiable statement. I digress...) With this historical melting pot of class, culture, creed and country, you'd think that the US of A would be the most tolerant and compassionate nation in the world, right. Well, I guess it is...if you happen to be a right-wing, white male Christian fundamentalist.

The reactions of the people that I've seen interviewed about this centre have completely beggared belief. One guy, whose firefighter son was tragically killed in the 9/11 disaster, stated the following (and I quote):

"'It is hallowed ground to us. There are porn shops and other things down there, but they didn't murder my son. Muslims murdered my son. And that is why I don't want the mosque there. They were cheering in the streets of Cairo, Baghdad, all through the Middle East, they were cheering the murder of my son that day. All we are asking is, practice your religion, but just move it a little bit further away.' He says he is not a bigot and this is not about religious freedom. 'All Muslims are not to blame, just like all Japanese are not to blame for Pearl Harbour, but you wouldn't put a Japanese centre at Pearl Harbour. I would say they promised to come back after '93 and they did, they promised to come back after 2001, I bet you it will be through that mosque if they do.'"

Whoa, whoa, whoa...let's just back up here a wee bit, shall we? First of all, it's not like they're erecting a mosque on the exact site of the World Trade Centre. I appreciate that he notes that it's not 'all Muslims', although subsequent comments about the fact the mosque (it's not a mosque, by the way, not by Islamic standards) will be used to launch the next attack on America detracts somewhat from that. I am very, very sorry that this man lost his son; what happened on that day was absolutely horrific and we should never forget that, but Jesus how paranoid could America be? And of course the right-wing nut jobs like Sarah Palin (Goddess help all of us if that woman ever gets into the White House) have jumped all over this particular bandwagon. And frankly, his comments and those of many other people about "oh yes, we're tolerant and don't mind you practicing your religion as long as you do it a bit further away" are verging on inciting religious hatred - how much further away is good for you, America? The Middle East? All this comes after a taxi driver in New York was attacked explicitly because he was a Muslim and a mosque in Tennessee was the target of an arson attack - be careful, America, because you're starting to resemble the intolerant hate-filled insurgents you claim to be going to war against. This all comes, of course, in the same week that the Israeli and Palestinian presidents meet in the US to try and salvage some form of treaty and hope from the dreadful situation in those countries, which is another ranty-filled blog entry yet to happen I feel (hint of my feelings - Israel has a collective short memory).

The lesson of 9/11 should not be that hate begets hate. The lesson should be that, by working together to understand the vast disparity of cultures and religions that this world has to offer - without pushing one or the other onto the rest of it - we can combat the small minority of religious fundamentalists and terrorists who seek to cause fear and bloodshed and hate. Don't let them win by assimilating their views and becoming the same intolerant and hate-filled people. We're better than that. We are.

On Winchester Geese, feminism and some soul searching...

I've never claimed to be an expert on anything much. What's that saying - Jack of all trades and master of none? I guess that applies to me; I know a lot of things about a lot of things, some of them useful (like electricity and water don't mix, so don't put that toaster in the bath), and some of them not so useful (like Jeffery Dahmer's brain was kept for scientific study after he got his head smashed in in prison); but you could never call me an 'expert' even on the things I'm passionate about, like art, literature and music.

Of course I went through the know-it-all phase, especially as a teenager. As far as feminism goes (ah, the dreaded F-word), I suppose part of it was innate: I knew I was just as good as the boys from a young age; in a lot of respects, my smugly-superior teenage self reflected, I was better. According to all the statistics I was smarter, more mature than boys the same age and would live longer; I was just as capable as any bloke of doing any job in the world and don't you dare try to bring me down, you horrible smelly boys! The precocious feminism of a teenage girl can be frightening...

Then, of course, I got older and a little more aware of the real world. I was a little more political, a little more opinionated and a little more certain that I was secure in my femininity. I remember being horrified in my second year at university when a male lecturer taught us about feminism; I bridled at the thought of a MAN daring to presume to teach ME, a WOMAN, about feminism (sorry, Paul - you were actually a bloody good lecturer and I learnt a lot from you). But that was kind of the point - I learnt a lot and, over the years, I kept learning. I learnt about the many breakthroughs the feminist movement had made over the years in its various waves, but I also learnt with horror about the sufferings of the Suffragette movement and their struggles for some form of equality; I learnt with dismay the widely-held conviction of many feminists that, in order to truly call myself a feminist, I needed to become a make-up-shunning, dungaree-wearing, man-hating lesbian; I learnt with fury about the gender-specific oppression of cultures, religions and governments. It was confusing: on the one hand, I was an outspoken and passionate advocate for ending domestic abuse; on the other, I loved my red high heels and wearing make-up occasionally. Did that mean I wasn't really a feminist? Could I not stand up for women's rights while still looking and feeling like a woman?

Over time, I've come to feel a bit more comfortable in my feminist skin. There are some branches of feminist thought that I agree with and some that I don't; for example, unlike some of my sisters, I've never had a particular problem with pornography. This statement is guaranteed to get me lynched in certain circles, but frankly whatever consenting adults want to do with their bodies is none of my business; as long as everyone involved is there of their own free will, enjoying what they do in safety and getting paid for it - and the porn industry is one of the only sectors where women are paid more than men - then go for your life as far as I'm concerned. Porn has its place and whether you choose to be part of it or not, either actually working in the industry or looking at the end product, is entirely down to you as a rational and consenting adult. I will not be picketing my local Spearmint Rhino in disgust; if anything, I've always secretly had a hankering to learn to pole dance! But one of the things I've always been 'outraged of Tunbridge Wells' about is prostitution.

Now lets just make one thing clear: I absolutely, categorically and unequivocally think that the prostitution laws in this country need an overhaul. It's completely ludicrous that in this day and age we are prepared to standby and let these women put themselves at risk because we refuse to acknowledge that prostitution exists. And it is mainly women who work in this field, where not only are they more likely to contract sexually transmitted infections, they're also in danger of assault, rape and murder; I read a report somewhere that states that women sexworking on the streets are 18 times more likely to be murdered. 18 times!!! That's just utterly unacceptable as far as I'm concerned. Of course, every time there's an incident like the Yorkshire Ripper murders, or the more recent tragedies in Ipswich and Bradford, the public go up in arms for a while, the spotlight is turned on the sex trade and then it all goes quiet again once the murderer is caught. But they're just the ones that make the press; almost every day, a woman working the streets is attacked, and yet there have been reports even in recent years of women reporting rape only to be told by the police, "you're a prostitute, how can you have been raped?" So it's about bloody time something was done to protect them.

Feminist attitudes to prostitution have, over the years, tended to veer towards the 'exploitation, degrading, woman-as-victim' train of thought and I must admit that, when I considered it at all (which wasn't often), I tended to agree; all those stories of trafficked women and pimps beating up their girls, getting them hooked on drugs to make them more compliant...I was all for hunting these men down and beating them senseless. As to the men who picked up the women; well, I was torn between disgust and derision. But now I'm starting to have a change of heart, and it's actually thanks to my boss...

See, I'm doing a whole truckload of research at the moment on prostitution, because we don't know what's really going on in our streets and frankly we don't want to be the next Ipswich or Bradford (not my words, or my bosses, I hasten to add). We need to find out what works in supporting the working women and what we could do in our area to ensure that we don't have a serial murder case on our hands. And it's because of this research that I've gained a new perspective on prostitution and what can be done about it, and a lot of that has come from the women themselves. There is now a union for sexworkers in this country, as there are across the world, and they are campaigning for their rights like anyone else. When the last Home Secretary Jacqui Smith suggested that we follow the Swedish model by decriminalising the girls and making the punters the criminals, the union and many of the women were furious; they argued that by making the men who buy sex criminals, you would push the trade even further underground and put the girls even more at risk. This was something I'd not thought about, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense; we would just be driving women straight into the arms of the Peter Sutcliffe's of this world without so much as a backward glance. And not all the women who go into sex work are there because they were trafficked, or because they're drug addicts, or have pimps waiting to beat them senseless: some do it because it's a job and they enjoy it, something else I'd not really considered.

So yes, we need to look at the legislation and we need to do something about the current and frankly ridiculous laws surrounding sex, but I think it's about time we started actually speaking to the people who know most about it: the sex workers themselves. Make use of the unions; legitimise them in the eyes of the public and give them a voice on things like this, things that concern them. Start supporting initiatives to protect them from those people who would hurt them; let's live in the 21st century, for crying out loud, and be realistic: prostitution is happening whether we like it or not, and if we really want to do some good - by which I mean cracking down hard on those people who traffic women for the sex trade, and those who force women and children into prostitution - then we need to stop being so puritannical and actually start a debate about it, involving the women as well as the so-called experts. Let's stop being so blinded by our aversion to 'the oldest profession' and our blinkered, outdated opinions of those who work in it and lets engage with them, make use of them and find out what the hell it is they want. Women in the sex industry have been murder statistics since before Jack the Ripper took to his knife; if we want to ensure that it doesn't happen any more, now is the time to act and to engage with the women as well as the 'experts'.

The prostitutes known as 'Winchester Geese' buried in the Cross Bones cemetary in Southwark were given a license to operate by the Bishop of Winchester; they and the other 'outcast poor' are still buried in unconsecrated ground for their immorality. It's time we struck a balance and found a new way forward; it's time we stopped burying our heads in the sand and pretended it wasn't happening. We have to do something and we have to include the sex workers in the process; how many more women working the streets have to be beaten, raped or murdered before this country finally wakes up and does something to protect them? In memory of the Winchester Geese and of all the other women who have died working the streets, I ask you to support this petition: http://www.petitiononline.com/swsafety/ We can do something about this, something that will make a difference, and it doesn't matter if it's 'feminist' or not - it's humanist and, as we are all human beings, surely that has to count for something...

Stone the Crows...

...Well, the women, at any rate. And I’m only using humour here because if I were to say exactly what I’m feeling at the moment, this blog would be reduced to nothing but an incoherent torrent of ranty swearing. Today, Iranian state television (well, lets be honest – there isn’t any other kind in Iran) broadcast an alleged ‘confession’ by a woman they have sentenced to death by stoning. She was originally ‘convicted’ – I use the term loosely – of adultery, but when the rest of the world said, “er, hold on a second there, old chap,” they decided that she had also been involved in the murder of her husband. The ‘confession’ – again, I use the term incredibly loosely – barely mentioned the adultery charge, focussing instead on the murder; clearly the powers-that-be in Iran have decided that people would be much more likely to let them get on with their execution if it was for something as heinous as murder – after all, doesn’t the United States do exactly the same thing? And so, with her face all but pixellated out, the woman appeared on television and admitted to being involved in the death of her late husband.

Now let’s just think about this for a teeny, tiny second. This is a woman who has been held in an Iranian prison (hardly an experience to delight the soul) and who, according to her former lawyer, who has had to escape to Denmark in fear of his own life, has been tortured severely throughout her ordeal. And now she ‘confesses’ to being involved in a murder plot? Funny that, I think I’d confess as well…and what does the rest of the world do? Absolutely sod all, except go on the telly and bleat about how ‘barbaric’ it is. Yes, that’s marvellous. Well done.

It sickens me, it absolutely sickens me, that in this day and age we can allow not only state-sanctioned murder (for what is any death penalty but that?) but state-sanctioned murder of such primitive and barbaric cruelty. Thank the Gods, no footage of a stoning has ever been released, although should you wish to see how the charming state of Iran used to carry out its public hangings, you can see plenty of footage of that, but there have been pictures and footage released of the aftermath. That was gruesome enough – the ground covered in blood and the spattered rocks – so I would imagine that the actual event would be completely horrendous…it really doesn’t bear thinking about. And this poor woman, who has two children and is probably guilty of nothing more than finding a new man after her husband died (because the whole ‘murder’ thing strangely only seems to have come to light after the outcry about her being stoned for adultery) has more than likely be beaten and threatened and tortured by the authorities in order to get her to produce this ‘confession’. I can only hope that the people who have the power to intervene in such situations get moving and do whatever they can to help this poor woman, and all the others like her who have ‘disappeared’ into the depths of an Iranian prison on the most spurious of charges and been tortured by that country’s regime. It’s too late for the many people who have already died, but there might still be a chance to save the others. Don’t forget them. David Cameron, Barack Obama and everyone else who has the power – do NOT forget them…

**NOTE: This was also written on the 12th**