Let It Die

The topic title is topical for more than one reason; obviously it links into the article below on euthanasia, but it's also a Foo Fighters song, and i like to use song titles and lyrics for titles on here and it's also the thought going through my mind about a topic that just will not die. Oh well...you win some, you lose some. Here's the article in any case.

No one is born wanting to die; this is a pretty straight forward fact about the human condition. Any suicidal tendencies are grown into through great pain and suffering. And if someone decides that they cannot cope with the pain and decide through their own volition to die, then there should not even be an argument about what the morally right thing to do is.

The latest case to spark such arguments was that of Mrs Purdy, a sufferer of multiple sclerosis, who has made a decision that she wants to die. But without the means to do so herself, she requires her husband’s help to take her to a euthanasia clinic. She appealed to the court for assurances that her husband would not be prosecuted for assisting her suicide, but this was rebuffed and the law on assisted suicide reiterated to Mrs Purdy, that her husband would be guilty of an offence which would accompany up to fourteen years in prison.

This is an absurdity. The only reasons people can possibly have for upholding the law in this case, is religious teachings, that every soul is important and that ending a life that God has given to you is a sin against Him. There are only spiritual grounds against euthanasia, because the physical, rational reasons all point towards allowing the choice to die. Forgive my blasphemy, but we live in an educated society, where God should be irrelevant, and no longer necessary in scaring the underclass to behave the way the ruling class want. If anyone thinks that God is anything more than that, then by all means, you’re entitled to your opinion, but this is mine. Show me some other laws that are only in place because of religious dictation. The difference between euthanasia and murder is the desire to die of the one who is to be deceased. So where is the crime? In war films, when someone is dying in battle, is a burden to his team and is in such excruciating pain that he wants to end his life, we watch on with admiration and acceptance for someone dying in dignity. In reality, when it is an elderly man or woman in a hospital bed dying of a painful disease who chooses to die, some people look on and say this is morally wrong, and that they will be going to hell. Is it not enough that they want to die, that some righteous man without a care in the world tells them that they will be eternally punished with flames and branding irons by Satan himself?

Think about your pet dog or cat dying and in quite a lot of noticeable pain. The only humane action is to put the pet down, to end its suffering sooner rather than the painfully inevitable later. The same logic is rarely considered with humans who can’t decide for themselves though. Why? Because, for some reason, we’ve got it into our heads that we’re more important and special than animals and a human loss is some kind of disgrace to God. This is simply not the case.

I was recently talking to a preacher, who said that the reason some people go to hell is because God gave us the faculty of ‘free will’. After scoffing at my assertion that free will is purely a political notion, without any counter-argument at all, he went on to explain that it is with this free will that we can make the choices that will lead us to heaven or hell. At this point I’m questioning why He gave us this faculty if it’s going to get us into trouble? And why doesn’t God have it if we’re made in his image? But then I thought, even if it is the ultimate sin, there is surely nothing more liberating than to put two fingers up at the supposed creator and question why the hell he thought that his perfect planet was so great when there is such pain that people go through. And even during that pain, people have to rub salt to say that endurance is the only entry to a better place. Personally, I think I’ll stick with Lucifer; at least you know where you stand with that guy.

The fact is, Mrs Purdy has had enough. She’s made the decision with her great faculty of ‘free will’; she’s weighed between continuing her life and ceasing to be completely and there’s a huge amount of bravery for the one that has weighed heaviest. Rationality, dignity and bravery were always virtuous characteristics to me. What would Jesus do?

We Are Godzilla, You Are Japan

Fujiya: A Japanese brand of record players. Miyagi: The old, mystical guy from Karate Kid. Both are facets of Japan that make up the new and the old; traditional spirit contrasted with technological advancement. You’d be forgiven at this point for thinking that this band was from somewhere a little more easterly than Brighton, but you’d be mistaken. The music is hypnotically rhythmic, nearly tribal, but constantly tinged with subtle synths that drive the music into the modern dance arena.

The band explains that the name is simply a concoction born from the fact that it looked nice written down. After listening to Lightbulbs only once, that account sounds about right. Lyrics and meaning are not high on F&M’s agenda, but rather a subtle hypnosis formulated with the rumbling drum and bass combination, the jutting synthesiser and the delicately breathed vocals, where phonology and not ideology, is paramount. How else can a song about an ice-cream be so listenable? F&M’s view for detail is microscopic. Forget about Arctic Monkey’s ability to provide social commentary on nights out on the town, and think more about the composition of a Knickbocker Glory, purely because the words “Vanilla, strawberry, Knickerbocker glory” sound nice rolling one after the other. Uh has a chorus made up almost entirely of polite grunts, beautifully in time to the beat, creating a sound so simple it’s going to take a lot of Hot Chip to get it out of your head. More impressive again is Dishwasher, with its circling chorus of “just look inside your encyclopaedia”. There’s no political message, there’s not even a message of any kind; it just makes for an enchanting repetition that almost lulls you to a gentle sleep.

There is certainly a great uniqueness to the themes and structure of F&M’s sophomore effort, but it is painfully tiresome. Some people have described Fujiya and Miyagi as a dance band. The only context that this music would be a rousing joy would probably be within a morgue, such is the tempo. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a certain repetitive beat to each song that makes them irresistible to tap your feet to, but that’s as far as the dance would go. Imagine Friendly Fire’s On Board, but without the continual progression to a delicious crescendo. On every single song. At the end of each track, you’re left waiting for something big to come, but are left constantly disappointed that the band don’t seem to have the balls to make it happen. Lightbulbs is essentially the Cold War of music.

And it is a great shame that more isn’t made of the great strengths that F&M possess musically. Closing track Hundred and Thousands, an instrumental finishing touch to an album that began with Knickerbocker, displays the band at their inventive best; synths playfully lapping one over the other, always threatening to break free of the paceless shackles that hinder the rest of this album, but again ends up limp wristed and in need of an injection of courage, guts and power.

Fujiya and Miyagi are as an intimidating force as any musically, with their ability to create mesmerizing hooks at a whim, but seem to get too involved in subtle intricacies, and forget about the song. Mr. Miyagi once said, “Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything”. Well that’s all well and good, but maybe these boys should just concentrate on writing some better songs.

The Kids' Kids Are Alright

‘Extra! Extra! Boy of thirteen has a baby!’ In 1870, this would be a pretty weak story. This week however, this has got Daily Mail and Sun readers everywhere vigorously reaching for their complaint notepads. You know, the ones that come with the words “What is this country coming to?” inscribed into the letterhead. It is amazing to see the lack of reasoning and sympathy towards a young couple having a child, merely because of the frenzy that the Sun causes. I can almost see the editors of the right-wing press salivating at the thought of such a story that epitomises their entire image of ‘Broken Britain’. It was too much to ask for it to have involved an illegal immigrant and a topless model as well though, wasn’t it?

The boy in question, Alfie, looks young as it is. The fact that he is the father of a child apparently shocked Sun columnist Jane Moore “to the core”. She goes on to say that this sort of thing will “break the existing cracks in society so wide open there’ll be no hope of repair”! I’ll go back to the point I hinted at earlier. It is not so long ago in our history that a child giving birth was the conventional norm. As animals, we’re only wasting time not having offspring when we’re sexually active. This is just another example of value-setting by a vastly conservative press. If you’re going to dismiss this as the type of “liberalism that has been dismantling structured society for years”, as one Sun reader suggested, then fine, but there is a reason that the Sun are quick to pin a host of sins on the young couple. Underage sex being an obvious start to the demonization, but they go on to explain how they could claim for double benefits if they moved in, as the mother would be legally responsible for the father. The furrowed brow of many a Sun reader intensifies. Funny how the couple themselves have intimated that they would live with the mother’s parents, but the Sun felt the need to explain just how ‘crazy’ benefit schemes are under the Labour government. Added to this, her dad claims for benefits as he does not work, and his father has nine other children, some of which are not from the same mother. The ink in the disgruntled reader has now run out but wait, there’s even more. As if we weren’t already lost enough in ‘Broken Britain’, the young couple were playing an over 18 rated computer game whilst being interviewed. How can they possibly raise a child? They should be in prison three times over.

As sarcastic as that last comment was, I actually do not understand what these laws mean; surely if you have sex under age, you’re committing a crime? Oh well, they’re not apparently, as the police said it’s in nobody’s interest to prosecute. Does that not mean that the age of consent is whatever anyone likes then? If we look to our closest European counterparts, Spain, the age of consent is set at 13, and if we head to the holy land of Vatican City, it’s at an ungodly 12! Sun columnist Jan Moore would be rocking back and forth in the corner of her office if she knew.

The facts, as far as I can see them, are that, yes they are young, but they do have a lot of family around them who can all help with their somewhat premature step into parenthood. The social services have already deemed them as capable enough, and promised to give full support. So what if it’s not the normalised family life that the Sun and Mail wishes on every person? The fact is, there is nothing to say that these two, immature as they are, are going to be any worse at parenting a child than 16 year old British parents or 13 year old Spanish parents for that matter.

Is condemning this young couple going to solve anything? The right thing is for people close to them to help them out in parenthood, not just stand back from the moral high ground, preaching the Sun’s values. We spend far too much time complaining about the state of the nation to ever get up and actually make any difference to it. It’s just the British way; if you can’t be bothered to do something, just sit back in outrage and send a letter into the Sun, because they’ll understand.

It's Not New, It's Just Easy

Right, I wrote this for a different purpose than this blog, but since it's a journalistic piece, I thought I may as well add it to the other pieces on here. So, here we are...Lily Allen's It's Not Me, It's You.

A new Lily Allen album you say? Is it catchy as hell? Check. Is it abrasive as hell? Just take a cursory glance at the title, thanks. Is it a modern classic? Well, let’s not get carried away.

With Lily, you kind of know exactly what to expect, even if she has only released one album thus far. There’s going to be some moments of real emotion and there’s going to be many more moments of pure brutality against bloke kind. You only have to wait until the third track before the first moment of wince-worthy lyrics from Miss Allen. ‘Not Fair’ is about a relationship that is perfect. So far, so boring. Unfortunately for Lily, and fortunately for us, he’s a bit shit in the bedroom. And with that, another Lily Allen classic is born. Its cutting lyrics are offset with a bizarre country and western jaunt. The beat is entirely necessary, as without it lyrics like “I lie here in the wet patch in the middle of the bed feeling pretty hard done by, I spent ages giving head”, would just be plain cruel.

The variation in instrumentation throughout this album is quite inspired, crossing between delicate piano (I Could Say), shameless Take That aping (Who’d Have Known), Klaxons-esque synth hooks (Back to the Start) and pretty god-awful accordion (Never Gonna Happen). ‘Hit and miss’ is one way to describe the backing music, much like Lily’s dabble in TV presenting, but boring it most certainly is not. I was just so relieved not to hear the usual Mark Ronson brass that blights everything he’s ever touched before. To tell the truth, the music is merely a passenger. Lyrically the album is a progression on ‘Alright, Still’; still biting, still painfully honest, still comic, but still only alright. Brilliantly crafted lyrics about mass drug taking in a society that is in denial (Everyone’s At It), scathing attacks on ‘the biz’ from the inside (The Fear) and the uplifting liberation after coming out of a bad relationship (I Could Say) are let down with a nosedive that seems to come around about the same point that Ronson decided to speed up the vocals on Fuck You, creating one of the most absurd moments of shit he’s been responsible for since the Kaiser’s last album. Chinese is a pitiful attempt at social realism from Lily, who yearns for the ordinary life of “beans on toast a nice cup of tea”. For someone with a gift for immature straight talking, I don’t want to listen to the ordinary, unless it’s funny.

Unfortunately, this is where the back end of ‘…It’s You’ goes. Ridiculous as it seems, bearing in mind the two and a half year wait for the album, it seems a little bit rushed. A worrying point to note is that if Miss Allen ever does find the right man, her music will undeniably suffer. Her best moments are born from hatred and anger; without the right emotions, it all ends up with beans on toast. Maybe that’s what she’d prefer.