Insurgo Insurgi Insurrectum (or why write about the right hating the right to strike?)

First of all, let's clear one thing up; I hate striking. I hate striking because I hate to miss a day at work (in a job which I love), I hate to lose a day's pay and I hate to wrestle with my conscience at the people being affected on a personal level because of actions that I am undertaking in order to send a message in a national medium. So far the strikes undertaken in FE have cost union members more than half a week's salary, students more than half a week's education (though the first two were purposely taken out during a period which would have minimal effect on students) and have had minimal apparent effect on policy making (though I hope I speak a little too early on that one).

In fact, in education at least, striking is a little like cutting off your nose in order to spite your face. In FE the prospect of an educational strike must have principles and governers laughing; they save a huge amount of money for the day and know that ultimately, all staff will have to catch up. Deadlines won't go away, exams will still take place and students must still be prepared; we can hardly send someone into an exam saying 'let's hope xxx doesn't come up because we were on strike the day I was supposed to teach you that'. The fact that I'm still catching up on work missed for recovering from an operation about two months ago just shows that if we don't do it, it doesn't get done. If you want to keep your job, it must get done. When the miners walked out the equation was simple; you want coal, then meet our demands. When we walk out the message is different; you want education, then....well you'll still get it but maybe a little bit later and ok then we'll put on some extra classes over the holidays because we don't quite have the time to fit it all in now what with all the striking and that.

This is why the attack on public sector action has infuriated me so much recently. The fact is that no-one is walking out because they want to. No-one wants to cause damage to those whom we are here to serve. By their very nature our jobs require us to be caring, compassionate and empathetic; you cannot be an effective teacher, health worker or librarian without these qualities.

Which is why it's so frustrating to see the argument being fought out on this level. A few months back I was having a discussion with someone who was saying that it was selfish and greedy for teachers to walk out when everyone has to sacrifice. I countered with the reasoning that the public sector shouldn't have to pay for private sector's mistakes, and she with the suggestion that it wasn't the entire private sector that is to blame. What struck me at this point was how ridiculous it was for us to be arguing; we were both suffering frozen wages, unstable pensions and minimal job security as a result of a financial instability created by people who were continuing to enjoy extensive tax breaks, grossly unfair benefit packages and a salary so disproportionate to the mean that is almost comical.

And to the irony of it all; while scorn is poured on those who try to fight shouldering the burdon of the mistakes made, those who made them enjoy the relief of having the focus well and truly taken away from them. The longer we decry the public sector strikes, the rioters, the politicians' duck ponds and whatever the fuck Kim Kardashian or *insert vacuous celebrity here* has done this week, the longer we ignore the essence, cause and primum mobile of our current global crisis. To argue with each other is to be two hobos slugging it out in a dirty ring while our shady fight organisers watch on, counting the greasy notes in their hands.

The strikes today are essentially over a broken promise; the promise of a solvent, government run bank to honour the terms of our contract and not ask us to pay them more in order to receive less than we agreed. We have broken our contract for a day, in order to show our distaste at them having broken their contract for a lifetime. But beyond that the strikes are about the increasing disgust at having to hold afloat an economy that was destroyed by the government's inability to control the few who are standing on dry land. We don't discriminate between public and private, only them and us. So why not honour your right to strike and join us, instead of trying to attack us for fighting the problem that is affecting everyone not lucky enough to be paid in six figures. We don't like it, but it's a damn sight better than rolling over and taking it.

Lazy Sunday

Last night I went out, to town no less. Now given that I am lately less and less able to handle big nights out I have had a pretty useless Sunday...here's how it's gone down so far...

1. Woke up at 11.30. Flirted with the idea of staying awake until I realised that this was a frankly silly idea and that Subway had stopped serving breakfast subs 30 mins ago and so really there's no good reason to not go back to sleep. Went back to sleep.
2. Was woken up again at 1pm by Hayley, asking how my night was. Offered a few grunts and was admonished, told to stop being so lazy and get out of bed. Hung up and went back to sleep.
3. Had my final wake up call by my housemate and best friend in the world at 2.30, asking if I had my keys with me (being convinced that I must have gone out). Realised that I'd managed to sleep through Ad's morning routine, something which is pretty much guaranteed to wake me up even at 6am. Plus, I realised that the shops close soon and I really needed some food.
4. Went to shop, bought buckets of orange juice and some veg to go with the pork joint I had defrosted yesterday. Left shop feeling good. Until I remembered about Subway.
5. Had masculinity challenged by girl in Subway when I only ordered a 6 inch. Came away with a footlong and some cookies. Goodbye Sunday roast.
6. Ate Sub, thought about turning on TV but didn't have the energy to walk the requisite five feet. Time for a nap. On the couch.
7. Opened eyes, feeling guilty about not having done any of the marking I was supposed to be spending my Sunday working on. Luckily it was within arm's reach of the sofa. Spread marking on the table in front of me, complete with red pen. Felt good again. This calls for some celebratory shut eye!
8. Awake again, started to read 1st piece of marking. Damn reading's hard. Maybe I should open my computer.....I can do productive things on a computer, right? Plus, it's already sat right next to the marking.
9. Maybe I'll just rest my eyes a little first.....

And so here I am. Ironically, this is probably the most vaguely productive thing I've done so far. Who knows what the rest of Sunday has in store for me....I know I don't but I know one thing's for sure, I don't half feel sleepy.....

Can you top this? Have you had a more inactive day than me??

Annoying Facebook friends

So I was reading through some of my old blog posts that I have pulled in here from the last few years. I noticed a couple that feature that old dinosaur of social networking sites; Myspace. In order to redress th balance, and move with the times as it were I thought I'd write a Facebook-centric post, so here I give you my list of 'annoying Facebook friends'.

This isn't, it should be noted, an all encompassing note that people are supposed to read and say 'ah yes, I hate that!' but my list of annoying friends, the type of people that frustrate me to the point that I desperately want to tell them as much but never do, in the knowledge that I secretly love having things to moan about and that to be removed from their friends list and restricted access to these wonderful, beautiful nuggets of annoyance. Enjoy.

1. The whinger

She (and yes, it is nearly always a she) used to be quite a cool person when you knew her. You think. You're pretty sure you used to spend the days getting wasted together and didn't give a crap about anything. But, somewhere along the line, she turned into a horrendous dragon from which no-one is safe. She hates her work, her boss, her clients. She hates strangers who looked at her the wrong way and shop assistants who didn't give her the proper respect. But the most vitriolic outbursts are reserved for that most hated of creature: the poor bastard with whom she shares a bed. He is inherently unable to do anything right; he is a lazy, yobbish, waste of space. He does nothing, and yet he does everything wrong. He can't cook, clean or even do his job properly and damn does she want everyone to know about it! Seriously, I feel sorry for this bloke and his continual attempts to do right, Keep trying, fella!

2. The desperately-needs-attention.

'Comment on my status and I'll tell you a secret! I'll pick out your best photo, tell you I want you, come to your house and clean your toilet in the nude! Just make a comment, one little comment, please!'

What do they do all night? I mean, I'm guilty of leaving fbook on while I watch a film, read a book, write a blog post...but I couldn't imagine having to plead to get people to write a little love heart on my page. Is our craving for near constant communication that bad that we are now happy to spill our secrets, pore over photos, answer stupid questions, simply in order to sate this yearning? Is that all I'm doing right now?? Oh, shit...


3. The old school friend.


Ok so this could get me into trouble. I don't mean all of them, but there are a good few who seem to be locked a world that only existed when you were fifteen. They spell as badly, care about the same inconsequential rubbish and still live with, or within a few feet of, their parents. In truth, these people aren't so much annoying as a friendly reminder of how much you've changed, and how old you've become. To think that your life has changed so much in such seemingly little time is....well in truth, it's depressing. But so much better than the alternative...

4. The where did I meet him? Did I meet him? Maybe at that party.....errr.....?

Why did he add me? Why did I accept?! And is this guy not the most active facebooker around?? He updates, he blogs, he vlogs, he has a new photo album every other day and yet you just can't figure out who the hell he is....but the strangest thing is that you somehow get sucked into these peoples' lives, sometimes for years on end. The annoying thing is that you end up playing voyeur to some unkown life and, though you may only glance at the updates as you scroll down, end up knowing more about their recent lives than their dear old mum. Is this what Facebook has brought us to?

5. The can't stop moaning about a website that he actively uses, updates to, blogs to and is all around hypocritical about.

errr.....yeah......