Let the cats bounce

No mini-essays planned out today, so instead my sense of humour/inquisitiveness has led me across the web looking at… random stuff that makes me laugh basically. None of it really needs my plugging, as all are pretty successful, but good humour should never go wasted. I thought I might share some of it with you- I won’t post links, but Google should set you straight

The first webcomic I ever read, and possibly the best known. Written by an ex-NASA consultant, it describes itself as “A webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math[s] and language”, which is a pretty good description. The split is about 5:15:70:10 (if we include physics, science and computing under mathematics), and hits exactly the right level of nerdiness about its various subjects: about pre-University level, not so nerdy that it can’t be understood by an intelligent GCSE student (much less its target audience of smart, bored people with a basic interest in science and a scientist’s sense of humour), but nerdy enough to make you feel smart and semi-elitist. Always a good source of some obscure but funny humour

Dead Cat Bounce
A comedy band, included here thanks to their YouTube fame. Although most of their songs aren’t that good (my personal opinion, still worth checking out), the have two gems in ‘Rugby’ (how I heard of them) and ‘Golf’- both are parodies of the people who play the various sports, and both are superb. Most of their songs aren’t sporting related, but these two are especially good.

Weebl and Bob
Not something I watch much of, but absolutely hilarious when I do. An animated series about two egg-like objects who speak as though their lips are incapable of movement (and are thankfully subtitled) . It’s all just more random funny stuff, mainly centred around pie and creme eggs. Some are parodies, some are tributes, some are just plain random. And all are funny (favourite episode? CSI: Pie-ami)

Cyanide and Happiness
Another webcomic, but this one could hardly be more different to XKCD. In a recent strip, one artist described himself as ‘making borderline-offensive jokes’. I would counter this, and say that the borderline got left about 5 miles back and that offensive is starting to sound tame. Inappropriate- yes. Outrageous- yes. Funny? Definitely- this is the one thing online that can be relied upon to get me wetting myself laughing. Their shorts are my personal favourites, ranging from the supremely well-done ‘Ted Bear’ parody, to the Family Guy-style ‘Speed Racist’, to the stupidly hysterical ‘Barbershop Quartet Hit On Girl From Taxi’

Zero Punctuation
The last on this list is series of video game reviews, made by Yahtzee Croshaw, are what made the game site ‘The Escapist’ as big as it is- there is a lot of stuff I watch on that site, but ZP is what first drew me and countless others there (while you’re there, I particularly suggest looking at MovieBob’s two series’). To describe Zero Punctuation’s videos as reviews is to be rather generous- what it basically consists of is 5 minutes of Yahtzee intricately insulting every possible flaw he can find in a game, particularly anything beige and containing the words ‘cover-based’, with some of the most intricate similes and metaphors you are likely to find anywhere. If you are easily insulted, or do not wish to see your favourite game being slaughtered, then move on. If, however, you want to give your sense of humour an airing to giggle like a maniac, then hit the archives

Normally I’m not really into tennis…

…but today I’ll make an exception. To be honest, until yesterday I was barely aware the Australian Open was on at all, and certainly had no idea of anyone’s progress. But then, at about nine in the morning, I walked into it on the TV. Andy Murray vs Novak Djokovic, semi-final. Murray is two matches away from his first ever grand slam, but he has to get through not only the world number one, but also his arch-nemesis, Rafael Nadal.
Tennis isn’t really a huge thing for me- I quite like it as a game, I watch Wimbledon when it’s on, I know the basics, but ultimately I’m not that good at it and don’t care about it much. Nonetheless, Murray is a Scot, and as a reasonably patriotic quarter-Scottish Brit who’s fairly into his sport, I thought I’d try too keep track of the game as it went on.
As the day progressed, I had very little time to watch it- I caught a 20-minute patch of a few exchanged third-set games during which precisely nothing happened, dropped in at the start of the 5th set, and rushed over to catch the last two games. Not much, but enough to give me a vague insight into the game as it unfolded. For those who don’t know, Djokovic took the first set, but Murray played impressively to take the second and the third (in a tie break), breaking back on numerous occasions. Djokovic won the fourth set 6-1, Murray had to break back to draw level at 5-5 in the fifth, before conceding a break and the match. Final result: Djokovic 6-3, 3-6, 6-7, 6-1, 7-5.
To me, as the match went on, Murray was playing like, well, how he always does when up against stiff competition. I don’t know if it’s just  mine or the British nation’s collective pessimism, but one can never really be sure of anything when watching Andy Murray- you always get the sensation that he’s about to fire a shot into the net or overshoot. As I say- probably just mindless pessimism.
But, for all his imperfections, for all my worries, for all the cynics’ pessimism about how generally useless we British are at everything (for the record, I HATE those people), on that drawn-out Friday (and for Murray, Saturday), I was proud of him, proud of my man. Completely stupid, I know- I have no personal knowledge of or link with the guy, have a self-professed indifference towards tennis as a rule, and all in all have no real connection with him, let alone a reason to mentally refer to him as ‘mine’. In fact, the only reason I (and quite a lot of his other fans too I suspect) follow him is due to some bull-headed British national pride (my apologies to all Scots reading this, but at least I would refer to him as British if he were losing as well). But that isn’t the point I’m trying to make here. Murray made Djokovic work for his place in the final with every single gram of sweat and effort in his body- the match was almost 5 hours long, the longest match Murray has ever played, and I can attest to the fact that Djokovic spent the majority of the match looking completely knackered. Djokovic didn’t win that match- tennis won, Murray’s mental state won, his estimations and admiration won, sport won.
Sport can be a terrible, horrible thing. It can sometimes be dull, there can sometimes be meaningless thrashings, there can sometimes be horrendous foul play or downright cheating, and worst of all can be sport played solely to win, played solely for the ego of the participants. But sport can also be wonderful, beautiful. Murray’s match was an example of that. He showed us how to fail- with all the effort, pride and dignity of your proudest and greatest victories. There is sport at its best. Nigel Wray, owner of the London rugby club Saracens, famously takes the view that ‘sport’ is the wrong word- ‘teams’ is better, because it emphasises the importance of sport’s camaraderie, friendship, values and teamwork. Even a solo sport like tennis is a game far better played when the emphasis is skill and enjoyment, not just grinding out victories. Rugby is my sport for precisely that reason- it’s ethos and spirit, but any sport played in the correct way, with the correct mindset, is the reason for playing sport at all. Thank you, Andy Murray- you lost magnificently

This blog is getting WAY too nerdy…

Looking back over my more recent posts, I’m starting to spot a trend. My first few posts ranged widely in style and content, from poetry to random facts. Now, however, (if I can spot a trend in a blog only 15 posts old)all my posts are basically mini-essays. Time, murder, SOPA… all have their little 1000-word studies here.
The reason why this has happened is fairly obvious- they are what’s going through my brain, and the way my mind and writing style works means it is easiest for me just to write studies of whatever crosses my mind. 2011’s round robin letter was an idea that popped into my head while out walking one day, while the poetry wasn’t even intended for online publication. Why are they up? Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
So, what to do? Either I carry on with all this essay-writing, or I try to think of more… abstract and different stuff to put up here. Those who know me would probably agree that abstract would be a better expression of my personality (although most of my supplies of odd are used up thinking of Facebook birthday messages- for anyone reading this, ‘Happy Birthday!’ is the dullest thing you could possibly write, and it would make birthdays certainly a lot more entertaining if there were a little more… variety). But… I don’t know… essays suit me. I haven’t had to write one formally for a long time now and either I’m getting some seriously retarded nostalgia/withdrawal symptoms or my inner soul is just a massive masochist when it comes to spending way too long writing stuff that is ultimately not likely to be read by more people than I can count on my fingers (can you tell I watched a Yahtzee video before writing that sentence?). Or maybe it’s just that writing essays is a lot more fun (to my inner nerd anyway) when the subject is something you find interesting, or at least that you have chosen so can’t complain about.
Meh, I don’t know. In fact, I’m not even sure why I’m writing this post- it’s clearly not going to turn into something especially meaningful any time soon. But, then again, why am I writing this blog at all? It gets very few readers, little notice, and most people I know don’t even know I have one,  so it’s clearly not because it gives me a sense of achievement. To me, this blog serves a similar purpose to a diary- it’s a vent for all the various thoughts and ideas that clutter up my mind and that I never get a chance to express. As the little description bar says, this is a window into my mind. But I don’t just have the deep, inner thoughts people write in diaries- I have all these random ideas, all these flames of interest and inspiration sparking off inside my head. It does them good, I suppose, to get out and get an airing. Maybe a few of  them will help other people, maybe make them think. Maybe one or two will inspire them. This blog lets ideas live. So, for as long as my thoughts express themselves as facts and reasons and essays, I guess that’s what I’ll be writing. Thank you internet, for helping me make up my mind on this one. I wonder how often the web gets to read a train of thought? But that may be a post for another time…

Time is a funny old thing…

Today I am rather short on time- the work I have to do is beginning to mount up despite (and partially because) of a long weekend. To most people this is a perfectly good reason to put up an apologetic cop-out of a post to prevent them having to work on it, but for me, it is a perfectly good excuse for my bloodymindedness to take over, so I thought I might write something about time.
As such a strange and almost abstract concept as it is, time can be viewed from a number of perspectives- the physical sense, the thermodynamic sense, and the human sense are the three obvious ones that spring to mind. To a physicist, time is a dimension much like width and length, and is far from unique- in fact there is a large sector of theoretical physics open to the idea that in the big bang there were many millions of dimensions, only 4 of which (3 spacial and one temporal) opened up into the rest of the universe, the other dimensions only existing on a microscopic, atomic scale (which might explain why the quantum world is so plain weird. Hey- I’m no physicist, and the web can probably tell you more). The really special thing about time compared to spacial dimensions to a physicist (among a long list, that are confusing and difficult to describe), is that it is the only dimension with an obvious direction. People often talk of ‘the arrow of time’, but the idea of any other dimension having an arrow is only a sort of arbitrary point of reference (north & south, up & down are only relative to our own earth and so are merely convenient reference points. This idea of time having an irreversible arrow annoys a lot of physicists as there appears to be little, fundamentally, that means we couldn’t travel in time in the other direction- the theory of relativity, for example, shows how fluid time can be. The idea of time’s direction has a lot to do with thermodynamics, which is where the second perspective of time comes from.
Really I am using the word thermodynamic very loosely, as what I am really thinking of is more to do with the psychological arrow of time. To quickly paraphrase what I mean by thermodynamics, the second law of thermodynamics states that the universe’s level of entropy, or randomness, will always increase or stay the same, never decrease, because a more random, chaotic system is more stable. One way of thinking of this is like a beach- the large swathes of sand can be arranged in a huge number of configurations and still seem the same, but if there are lots of sandcastles over it, there is a lot less randomness. One can seemingly reverse this process by building more sandcastles, making the universe more ordered, but to do this requires energy which, on a universal level, increases the universe’s entropic level. It is for this reason that a smashed pot will always have been preceded, but not followed by, the same pot all in one piece.
The thing is, the psychological and thermodynamic arrows of time point in the same direction, and their link on one another is integral. Our whole view of the passing of time is influenced by the idea of events that have irrevocably ‘happened’ and are ‘over’, hence our eternal fascination with ‘what if’s’. We persistently worry about past mistakes, what could have been, and what things were like, but never can be- hence the popularity of historical stories, ruins, nostalgia and grumbling about teenagers. For a better explanation of the various ‘arrows of time’, try Stephen Hawking’s ‘A Brief History of Time’- it is somewhat out of date now and it is fashionable now to think of it as overly simplistic, but it’s still a good source of a grounding in high-level physics
The final, and to me most interesting, perspective of time I want to talk about is deeply linked to the psychological arrow and our thoughts of the passing of time, but brings its own, uniquely relative, view- the human perspective (notice how it is always people I seem to find the most interesting.) We humans view time in a way that, when thought about, paints a weirdly fluid portrait of the behaviour of time. There is never enough time to work, too much time spent waiting, not enough time spent on holidays or relaxing, too much time spent out of work, too little time spent eating the cake and too much spent washing up. There are the awkward pauses in conversation that seem to drag on for an eternity, especially when they come just after the moment when the entire room goes silent for no accountable reason, enabling everyone to hear the most embarrassing part of your conversation. There are those hours spent doing things you love that you just gobble up, revelling in your own happiness, and the bitter, painful minutes of deep personal pain.
Popular culture and everyday life often mentions or features these weirdly human notions of time being so relative to the scenario- Albert Einstein himself described relativity thus: “When you are talking to a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you have your hand on a bar of red-hot iron, a second seems like an hour”. In fact, when you think about it, it is almost as if time appears to be a living thing, at least in the context of our references to it. This, I think anyway, is the nub of the matter- time is something that we encounter, in its more thermodynamic form, every day of our lives, and just like pet owners will tend to anthropomorphise their pets’ facial expressions, so the human race has personified time in general conversation (well, at least in the western world- I cannot speak for anywhere non English-speaking as a certainty). Time is almost one of the family- ever-present, ever-around, ever-referred to, until it becomes as human as a long-lost friend, in its own little way.
Finally, on the subject of time, Mr Douglas Adams: “Time is an illusion; lunchtime doubly so”

Well, last week’s solution didn’t work…

As I did last weekend, I am feeling like a sad, depressed, lonely bugger for no identifiable reason. Last week this lead to the disjointed and distinctly odd post on the subject of death, murder and assorted weird things, and as a method of letting out emotion it failed truly spectacularly. So today, I thought I might as well instead talk about depression.
I am not, incidentally, going to talk about this in a strict medical sense- I am neither qualified nor able to do so. But just-being-bloody-depressed-and-unhappy-half-the-time is something I have had to cope with for a large proportion of my life, and it is not something I have found to be well understood or, especially, appreciated.
Depression can arise from a wide variety of causes. For some people it’s  getting too philosophical and deciding there is no actual point to life, for others it’s an alternative to anger with the way their life is working out, and for some it’s just loneliness and boredom. The latter is actually an especially interesting scenario- people are generally only depressed when their mind is not occupied. A case in point is Robbie Williams, who for years suffered terribly with offstage depression whilst onstage having the time of his life. One thing, however, crops up when the matter is given thought- depression does not happen to anyone. Some people will never have a reason to, some will always be surrounded by friends, some will spend their entire lives kept too busy to really get depressed, but many simply don’t have the personality for it. Depressives tend to be people who think a lot- they may not necessarily be intelligent, but they will almost certainly be introverted to an extent and self-reflect a lot. The trouble is, bouncing ideas off yourself is not the same as bouncing them off friends, and it is unhealthy for a normal human brain.
The big problem with this is that the kind of people who get depressed are, therefore, those least likely to seek help. If you are an introverted person, you may have an unimpressive social life, perhaps be bad in the company of others or had some embarrassing rejections, and you are often unlikely to feel that opening up is going to help you. Plus… there is something delightfully selfish in wallowing in your own misery. It feels good. While everyone passes by and doesn’t help you, you feel better than them, which for a depressive is often a rare and satisfying feeling (Many depressives have major self-esteem issues; the irony is that these are often completely unfounded, and often caused by obsessive perfectionism or overambitiousness). The natural instinct of a depressive is to revert to their lifelong tactic and turn in on themselves, and it can take a seriously analytical and critical mind to realise that this is what is causing all the mental damage. Some people will never get out of this cycle, and will go to their grave with the same depressed tendencies that have dogged them all their lives, never telling a soul. These people are few- after an extended period of time, only the strongest-willed of depressives will not have thought of suicide, and it’s an option far too many have taken. Herein lies the issue- depressives hide from the rest of the world to prevent it from helping them, but often refuse to help themselves.
I must interrupt the flow here- if anyone who ever ends up reading this suffers from depression, make a beeline for your nearest counsellor. This can feel incredibly defeatist, like you’re giving up on yourself, but some things cannot be handled on your own. Counselling does not mean you are some psycho with mental issues, and counsellors are not psychoanalysts or quacks. Think of a counsellor as a professional friend- someone who you can talk about stuff to with no fear that it’s going to get spread, and who knows the best way to help you. If you really can’t persuade yourself that you should be getting counselling, or just want another tactic, throw yourself into your social life. Focus on a group of mates you’re sure you can trust (disloyal friends are killers to your self-esteem (and possibly wallet), as well as being amoral scum), and focus all of your efforts into enjoyment. Buy the first round, have an extra beer or two, be as wild as your inhibitions will let you. It may not work, but it’s worth a try, and if you manage to get yourself a stable social circle then the fight is as good as won.
However, there is one almost sure-fire way to help a depressive, and that is to break  their idea that introspection is a good tactic- to show them that the world is, actually, a good place full of good people. This not uncommonly happens by accident- the stressed-out worker with entering a spiral of depression receiving a rise and getting back on top of his rent. Many new parents may find coping with a new baby incredibly hard, and start getting depressed after the third night in a row that their little bundle of joy has woken up at 1am screaming their eyes out, and for them the release may come when such episodes stop becoming a nightly occurrence- circumstance too can be a saviour. But for many circumstances may not simply fall their way again, and this is where other people come in. I can speak from experience when I say that nothing cheers up a depressive more than somebody coming up to ask them what’s wrong, and persisting past the initial mumbled ‘Nothing’ or ‘I’m fine’ (although be warned anyone who tries this- make sure you know when to back off, because people who happened to just be staring vacantly that day may not take kindly to you asking deep questions about their mental fragility).  Somebody who genuinely wants to hear your problems and help you out is manna from heaven for a depressive, and there is also something deeply satisfying about knowing you’ve helped somebody else out. Depressives can sometimes be hard people to like- some have a tendency to be clingy while others demonstrate that there is clearly a reason they were out of the social loop. But if treated properly and pointed in the right direction, they are generally as nice enough people as the rest of us.
A little while ago, I heard a story about a schoolboy that I thought I could leave you with. He missed the bus home after school and, since he didn’t live too far away, decided to walk home. On the way back he met a guy in his year who was walking the same way- he didn’t know him well, only really as a face and name (I believe he was new to the school), but he seemed like an OK guy. They got talking, in the way schoolboys do, and spent most of the way back talking about football. It was a Friday, and as they parted the first boy asked his new mate if he wanted to come for a kickabout in the park over the weekend- he’d already arranged it with a few of his mates, and thought they could use an extra player to make up the numbers. The guy agreed, they parted, and met the next day at the football.
About a year later, the two having become pretty close friends, they got to talking about the day they first met. The second boy said that, for all the time he had been going to that school, that was the first time he’d had anyone to talk to on the way home. He also said that in his schoolbag that day had been a length of rope and, for but a missed bus and a few friendly words, he would have hung himself that evening.

I love bandwagons…

I originally planned to devote this post to something lighthearted and utterly irrelevant, but today is the wrong day for that. Today, anything written online that is not about SOPA and PIPA is only so much pissing in the wind.
For those of you who don’t know what SOPA or PIPA are- *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* WAKE UP AND LOOK AROUND THE WEB A BIT MORE! They are two bills proposed by the US government that set out, basically, to attempt to restrict and regulate the internet. SOPA stands for the Stop Online Piracy Act, and PIPA for the Protect IP Act. These, broadly speaking, classify websites into ‘foreign’ and ‘domestic’ (relative to the US) , and then grants the government, via the attorney-general, the power to censor any site that is found guilty of violating or, more importantly, facilitating the violation of, copyright restrictions as per US law. The idea is to prevent online piracy, such as the streaming of  films that are under copyright.
In theory, nice idea. In practice- an appallingly worded document that, if implemented, has the potential to turn the internet insipid.
Problem One- the level of censorship. When the power is given to censor a website, this MEANS censor. This means search engines have a duty to scrub it,  its financers can no longer back it, domain hosters have to give it up, everything. Seems like a good idea to restrict piracy, but in fact it won’t work. The US government is in fact funding projects enabling people living in repressive political regimes to circumvent these blocks, and by just typing in the IP address of what you’re looking for you will still get to it. What it actually does is make it nigh-on impossible for any site found guilty of violating the act to publicize themselves, which neatly leads me on to…
Problem Two- what is considered a crime is far too vague. “Facilitating the activities [of copyright infringement or counterfeit products ]” can apply to a huge range of subjects, even as simply as telling somebody how something is done. This basically means any site relying on user-generated content can be targeted and the law can be very easily abused by any legal smartarse. This could lead to hundreds of sites becoming censored for activities almost totally unrelated to copyright infringement- the proposal itself even says it is not just targeting sites “dedicated to theft”. The most potentially destructive thing about this however, is…
Problem 3- a person can be targeted simply for sharing a link to a site. This massively restricts the potential for small websites to grow- how would webcomics ever spread if the internet couldn’t share them, for example? The process of sharing things, telling your friends, spreading the word, is how any business or trend grows, and is a wonderful thing. It happens in all walks of life, so why should it be banned on the internet? Why are you not entitled to the same rights to do this online as in the real world? Why is there…
Problem 4- the bill restricts your right to free speech online. Because of the level of censorship allowed by the bill, once a site has been blocked, all future AND PAST references to it will be blacked out entirely- this will not just mean you can’t click on a link in an old blog post, it will mean you won’t even be able to read that blog post. One of the great things about the internet is its potential as a tool for discussion, allowing people who may never meet to talk about what they want, whenever they want- introducing these restrictions could kill that off to a surprising extent. Plus, of course, the right to free speech is a fundamental human right, included in the UN declaration of human rights as something that shouldn’t be inhibited. This is not as serious as the political restrictions imposed in some countries, but because of the potential for abuse of the law it could give the US government the power to silence anyone talking about something they deem as wrong- one could argue a discussion advocating a socialist state, a perfectly valid view to hold, could be banned for advocating state ownership rather than personal ownership and so violating copyright law- a ridiculous argument, but one that could be applied, especially knowing the US’s traditional stance on left-wing politics. Similarly targeted could be anyone making spoof videos or making references to popular culture, leading to…
Problem 5- this bill could render hundreds of the internet’s favourite sites insipid. YouTube, Facebook, Reddit and more could all just become mires of indifference who can’t say anything that would offend the government for fear of being blocked. Thousands upon thousands of pages could become replaced with big banners stating that they have been blocked by the government, ruining the internet’s brilliant potential as a tool for sharing information across the world. And speaking of across the world…
Problem 6- these bills can block almost ANY major site, regardless of origin. The bill has tried to restrict itself to only policing the US by defining sites as ‘foreign’ or domestic’, but the definition of these two categories is so broad, vague and draconian that any site of any size , which will almost certainly have US connections, could be attacked under this law, while all-american sites are just plain old screwed over. This, plus the universal nature of the web, means the US will be enforcing its laws ON OTHER COUNTRIES AS WELL AS ITSELF, which is a violation of democracy if ever I saw one- much of the UN is opposed to these bills for that reason.
In short, therefore SOPA and PIPA are draconian, wrong and should be fought tooth and nail by every internet-lover the world over. As you may have picked up from earlier, I’m British, so you might not think that this really affects me- but much of the content I love on the web is American, and I want to protect it. Across the web today, thousands of sites are blacking out or making protests against the repression of the internet, and there are many links to online petitions or email addresses of senators to try and get this bill opposed. Please, if you’re reading this, do your bit for the web. Oppose SOPA and PIPA. Free the internet.

Life is not just a body

Today, I am in a bad mood. When I get into this particular bad mood, my thoughts turn a little dark. So, as such, this post is going to be on the subject of death.
People die all the time- just about the only certainty of anyone’s existence is that it’s going to happen eventually. Death is perfectly necessary, and for most humans living in the developed world, it happens after a long and hopefully fulfilling time on this earth. In fact, across nature this is a fairly established pattern- if a wildebeest survives to be full-grown, it’s likely that, barring illness or injury, it will continue to live until it is old enough to become a prime target for the lions again. Another regularly occurring feature is the method of death- animals die either of disease, or they are hunted and killed- this is the natural cycle. However, humans are the exception to the rule, as we have taken death and killing to an entirely new level.
The most obvious example of this is pure, cold-blooded murder. Humans are not the only species to fight and kill one another over, for example, a mate, but they are the only race to commit pure slaughter of innocents on such a massive scale as has been done. Psychopathic killings, grotesque genocides- many times throughout human history killing innocent people has been done for no justifiable reason. The Nazi genocides were of course the worst example of this- millions upon millions of people, innocent of any crime, were slaughtered like worthless animals simply for being different to a perverted image of perfection.
With its prevalence in everyday culture, the true impact of actually killing someone can often be forgotten. Consider it for a moment. You are the killer, faced with an innocent figure, begging you for their life. They have a life, maybe a family. They are a person just like you or I. They have hopes, dreams, emotions- they could be a wonderful person, do amazing things, help other people.  Once they are gone, all that can never be. You have removed someone’s child, someone’s parent. You have removed someone’s protector, someone’s friend. By removing them, you are abandoning their friends, their partners, their relatives, leaving them alone without a shoulder to lean on. When one really thinks about it, human beings can be truly amazing, capable of doing truly amazing things. Now, ask yourself- how is anybody capable of taking a perfectly innocent life?
Notice how all the above points make no reference to the destructive effect on the body- the real crime of a murder is not the destruction of their vehicle to live and breath, but the destruction of their ability to think and, in a more philosophical sense, be. There is something truly and deeply inhuman about idea of deliberately targeting a fellow human being’s soul to be forced to undergo the most horrible atrocities against its nature, to be battered and bent and destroyed. And that is why there are two other crimes I wish to talk about here that I believe, loosely, to be in the same bracket as murder.
The first of these is torture (and also, for much of the same reasons, rape). For anyone who hasn’t read it already, I refer you to part 3 of George Orwell’s ‘1984’. For everyone who has read it already, read it again- it’s a great read and I always thought that his descriptions of the effects of torture were especially accurate. Orwell makes a very telling point- the torture does not stop when Winston’s body is battered and destroyed- it stops when he surrenders his will. At that point, he has ceased to be Winston Smith, a man under his own control- his very being has been bent into the party doctrine. One does not even have to force the surrender for torture to be the basest of crimes- deliberately causing another human being to hurt and suffer. Deliberately making the life of another worse to the point of mental collapse, another person like yourself… now there is inhuman.
The last of the three crimes in this bracket is somewhat far removed from the other two, and is certainly not as severe a crime as either- it is defamation of character, ie formulating lies about another person in order to make them social rejects and generally ruin them. This varies widely in scale, from simple bullying (something else I have an obsessive hatred of on principle), to… well go onto BBC iPlayer, watch the latest episode of Sherlock and you get the idea- its a far more effective and complete victory than murder ever would be. The really interesting thing about this is the effect that it has on the mind. Loneliness is never noted as being a good thing for one’s mental health, but when it is combined with the knowledge that it is perpetuating for as long as you remain in the same sphere of existing, it is enough to drive you insane. Knowing that you are innocent of what is being said, and yet simultaneously having that fact thrown back into your face at every turn sends the mind into a spiral of confusion and chaos, ruining someone from the inside out. It may seem like something completely alien from the inhuman atrocities of torture and murder, and when it is performed ineffectually its effect is trifling. But doing it properly, to the right target in the right way, watching all the structure of the life they lead crumble about them, is one of the most destructive forces to target the mind.
I don’t really know why I wrote this, or if it sounds like some disjointed ramble or not (if it does, please comment and say so). But this has been going round my head for the past 24 hours, and I kind of needed to get it off my chest. My apologies for the dark subject matter, I’ll try to be more light-hearted next time