Monday, 9 May 2011


I had to be coerced to Facebook. Dragged to Blog. My last bastion was Twitter. I was adamant I wasn’t doing it. My friends fell for its lure one by one, and I stood firm. The slebs tweeted with abandon and I resisted. I had no intention of joining.

For starters, I don’t do anything interesting enough. I rarely write status updates on Facebook (except Farmville requests). I forget to blog – heck, I forget to call my mum. My life just isn’t that scintillating that I need to compress it to 140 character soundbites.

(Can you imagine?? Woke up. Did school run. Had cup of tea… yawn).

Anyway, I have issues compressing my thoughts into soundbites. Why use 140 characters when 1400 would do? Why 1400 when 14,000 would be even better? I burble, babble and bibble. I don’t get to the point except via an extremely roundabout route that takes in several places of interest and incidentally points out the pretty scenery.

PLUS. I am the technological equivalent of Wilma Flintstone. I don’t have a SmartPhone. I barely know what one is. I use my phone to (gasp!) make and receive calls. I send texts but only started that recently. I quite like the handy camera in a phone function, but I still forget to use it. That’s it. I wouldn’t know how to get online on my phone and have still to set up voicemail. I call my daughter to get the number to check my balance (in my defence there, I switched carriers to join them – I did know the number on my old carrier!).

The only plus point in its favour is that you don’t have time to get distracted. Type, post, bang, done. It’s taken me an hour to type this, I’ve lost my train of thought several times, I know I had another point to make but that’s gone.

Ally wouldn’t give up on me though, and forced me to join the Tweeple. See that? They have their own damn vocabulary. Even joining is a clique experience. You are asked to give an URL with no explanation of what that is – is that my blog? My fb address? Oh! You mean what the URL would be once I join, to find my profile, i.e. a USERNAME! Why not just say so??

That 140 character limit has also brought back the dreaded and dreadful text-speak. Lyk b4, cr8ive splling. Ugh. There’s an entire dictionary that I as a twewbie now have to learn, plus entire realms of twetiquette about hashes and @ and whatever else. It’s twerrible (what, is that not a real twit word? Bloody should be).

So, I’ve now joined the Tweeting majority. Sigh. I need people to follow so feel free to let me know who you are in that world so I can add you!

(Am now eyeing tumblr, why not, ‘eh?)

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Pity, not Party

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.” – Jessica Dovey*

“That old law about 'an eye for an eye' leaves everybody blind.” – Martin Luther King

I remember ten years ago. I remember talking with a friend on MSN who could see the Towers from her work, her absolute shock and horror as she watched the carnage unfold. I remember talking with friends who’d lost loved ones, family and friends. I remember my autistic daughter being terrified and not knowing any words to help her to cope with it.

I remember six years ago when it happened closer to home, deep underground trapped in tunnels, and then on an ordinary London bus travelling its mundane usual route.

I remember watching news reports of terrorists, dissidents, fundamentalists and ordinary people, dancing in the streets in joy and elation. That was shocking… dancing at other people’s pain. The world condemned the attacks and the glee.

I can’t understand the glee now. Ignoring the conspiracy theories for now, the news reports that a man died. His family and staff died. Thousands of people around the world have died. This is a time for closure and reflection, not celebration.

I know many people won’t understand this, but many more will. I hope that those who have been directly affected by his actions find some peace in current events.

Insha’Allah, Deo volente.

*Not MLK