Tools of violence

Identity violence

Symbolic violence

Communication violence

Historic violence

Revisionist violence

Repetitive violence

Infantilising violence

Nostalgic violence

Communication violence

Prejudiced violence

Tiring violence

Destructive violence

Sexual violence

Gendered violence

Religious violence

Spiritual violence

Class violence

Linguistic violence

Colourist violence

Male violence

White male violence

Co-opting violence

Toxic violence

Co-opted toxic violence

Ideological violence

Paternalistic violence

Patriarchal violence

Symbolically patriarchal violence

Promotional violence

Just violence

Violence violence

Tiring violence

Too tired coz I’m broken and it’s the result of all the above and more violence

Mental violence

Inferred violence

Implicit violence

Bright-eyed violence

Broken souls violence

The once you had bright eyes but then you got co-opted and are stuck but still need peeps and I get it but don’t you get that I get it, so why you gotta erase the stuff we excavate and stop us entering and flinging open the doors-no revision check, not open the doors break all these fracking symbolic capitalistic colonial walls – so that we can all evolve together and your tired eyes can weep and rejoice in celebration with us all, bold beautiful and brave and bound to the forward March of completing our shared ancestors abolitionist principles and journeys to create a new fair fresh deprogrammed society so we keep being we and us, and you and me, happy and free together… urgh! Gah! For f***! *sigh* but you can’t and that’s violent, violence.

So instead here we stand. Ina pyramid and I keep trying to educate and create and collate and collaborate while we survive and you thrive but I don’t even cry coz I’m proud inside that at least someone who got one part of our ancestral spirit souls good side to the table where it’s all about whose there to dine, and whose outside… not about our fellow people who die and are also pushed towards pipelines to die. Whether quickly or slowly, that’s for us all to see with our eyes.

I’m too tired to speak, so I’ll leave it to that… and sleeps for the night.

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Making the most of your surroundings: Year Review

It’s been a little over a year since I re-entered London to pursue my next project, my doctoral research into exclusions in online spaces.

It’s also been about seven years and three weeks since I first connected to the capital, I mention this only because today I was not clocked as being from anywhere else. I have again acclimated to my surroundings, even though I made the conscious effort to keep my broad twang.

So, I thought it was apt I started writing more often. Even though the imposter syndrome might run deep or make things get shady sometimes, I know that for my future I need to just GET OVER IT! With this in mind, I’m trying to acclimatise myself with writing and especially writing on the online page. In a similar way I’m realising how I’m so blessed to be able to enter so many places and to participate in them (marginally) better than those who feel more awkward than I. Only today I had the absolute privilege and energising feeling of being in a room full of “BAME” (hate that word) women and men who considered the future of women in UK politics. So I’m going to make a conscious (and consistent) effort to write more reviews of events I go to, the readings I do, my musings and more… Gotta let them see me work!

On that note.. I better get back to reading Simonden closely. Byeeee

 

 

Twelfth Night

Having always wanted to see a Shakespeare Production at The Globe theatre, I was a bit disheartened by this production at a small theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue. However as with all my pre-conceptions I should not have wasted an ounce of worry.

Twelfth-Night-Banner
The Banner courtesy of the Apollo Theatre.

Not only was Stephen Fry playing a whimsical Malvolio, with his luxurious voice and handsome stage presence, but Mark Rylance was the undoubted star of this piece,
The renowned actor, theatre director and playwright graced the stage with his presence in this limited run, with his comedic turn as Olivia. Even Kevin (the boyfriend) who I was worried would hate the show was watching the production with a beaming smile throughout the long 4 hours.

We decided prior to the show to not opt for the stage seats, put on the stage to provide a more authentic experience and how I regretted that! But none-the-less even up the circle sandwich between a so-so couple and a very “hoity-toity” one we had much fun on the last performance before Christmas. The live Elizabethan band serenaded the seasonal spirit into us, helping my first ever christmas spent with my boyfriend to feel like warm milk after honey. Pure Bliss.

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My Darling Kevin next to the National Darling that is Stephen Fry
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Outside the Apollo Theatre showing Mark Rylance as Olivia

Jersey Boys

So in October, just before my anniversary, I had a little relationship bump. My amazing but at times irritating boyfriend seemed as all men do distant. Now I admit at times I am not the best person, I may not always know or want to talk but I do want action!

He did his best though with his limited funds and who knew my initial reserve would be so wrong.. so, so wrong!

I apologise wholeheartedly to the universe for thinking that The Jersey Boys would be a waste of my evening.

From the Ray Liotta accents, the teddy boy looks and the unusual singing arrangements and number.. the Jersey Boys Production has the edge of London Musical Theatre.

If you’re ever stuck in London and want to see a musical, but not a long-winded one full of unnecessary segues into songs – much like a b-class Bollywood movie, then Jersey Boys is for you! The songs and dance routines flow so easily, making the theatre feel more like an intimate club. The use of screens, animation and edited footage also helped to keep the show modernised despite it’s vintage aesthetic.

Wicked: The Musical

Although in the end we didn’t get the full day of hanging around the Victoria area of London due to other commitment, the musical itself was a masterpiece of emotional involvement.

The only photograph I had time to take.
The only photograph I had time to take.

Having heard lots of opinions and thoughts about this piece of modern theatre, I tried to walk in with no prior expectations. Greatest surprise was not knowing that Will from Busted was the Prince (I may have excitedly whispered this to my boyfriend, Kevin), but other than that it felt like a nice fluff piece. Actually no there is a greater surprise but that would be revealing the plot, so get down to seeing it.

I would say that seating is great if you are not sat directly behind a large fidgeting couple. Also, unless you go to a late show, where lots of drink and excitement are involved you don’t get quite the same buzz as you do in order smaller or less-known shows. I went to the 7.30pm show, but perhaps being Tuesday I wasn’t surrounded by the school children and weekend tourists who were fanatical about the songs, production and would help create a atmosphere.

But the set was FANTASTICAL. Every inch of the stage and rigging was used to help unite the astronomical story to the limited space available. It really felt like a cinematic sequel to The Wizard of Oz just on a stage and more interact-able or rather a true 5D experience.

Next Month: Twelfth Night: Or What You Will, by Shakespeare. 😀

Skyfall Review

..Give me a while to process it..

Skyfall was the window into the heart of Bond. But a modern, disillusioned and realistically reserved Bond. His life pre and post-Bond status and his fears are written out by a mediocre script but amazing action scenes. Oh and some scenes bring tears, others a very British nod of approval.

Review: Born into Brothels; Calcutta’s Red Light Kids.

If you are ever stuck for inspiration, feeling low and generally think “Life isn’t faiiir – Wahhh” (in the whingiest voice ever) then this documentary is for you.

I mean we’ve all been there, right? You’re feeling T-E-R-R-A-BAD.. and you know nothing is going to cheer you up. But my friends this is not the case. This documentary is the most inspiring and impressive I have seen to this day. It got me out of the biggest funk of my year.

So the premise?

So cute and cheeky. Makes me want to be a kid again.

An American photographer, Zana Briski, arrives in Calcutta and has stayed there for many years on-and-off in order to photograph the living situations of the prostitutes. However both the women and the men (mainly pimps and crooks themselves) are distrusting and reluctant to have anything to do with her. The kids however love her! Fascinated by her camera and left to fend for themselves to various degrees in a place that is nefarious, illegal and with no hope of leaving it. The Briski starts a class for the children with a little help. She issues them with cameras and helps them understand the fundamentals and in doing so both her and the rest of the world are shown a visual window into the district, it’s inhabitants and the adversity of innocence in such a place.

Interestingly about this documentary, the makers hardly ever resort to a preaching tone or use footage that may horrify or detract from the overall theme, which is all about the children finding their way out of the mire through photographs and funding and creating their own education.

The bright colours, messy street-life scenes and exotic sounds is what I would expect from a documentary set in India but somehow this documentary transcends time and place in my heart.

So if you are ever stuck feeling low and can’t even think of picking up a camera or going out then watch this! You won’t regret it.

Review: Born into Brothels; Calcutta’s Red Light Kids.

If you are ever stuck for inspiration, feeling low and generally think “Life isn’t faiiir – Wahhh” (in the whingiest voice ever) then this documentary is for you.

I mean we’ve all been there, right? You’re feeling T-E-R-R-A-BAD.. and you know nothing is going to cheer you up. But my friends this is not the case. This documentary is the most inspiring and impressive I have seen to this day. It got me out of the biggest funk of my year.

So the premise?

So cute and cheeky. Makes me want to be a kid again.
So cute and cheeky. Makes me want to be a kid again.

An American photographer, Zana Briski, arrives in Calcutta and has stayed there for many years on-and-off in order to photograph the living situations of the prostitutes. However both the women and the men (mainly pimps and crooks themselves) are distrusting and reluctant to have anything to do with her. The kids however love her! Fascinated by her camera and left to fend for themselves to various degrees in a place that is nefarious, illegal and with no hope of leaving it. The Briski starts a class for the children with a little help. She issues them with cameras and helps them understand the fundamentals and in doing so both her and the rest of the world are shown a visual window into the district, it’s inhabitants and the adversity of innocence in such a place.

Interestingly about this documentary, the makers hardly ever resort to a preaching tone or use footage that may horrify or detract from the overall theme, which is all about the children finding their way out of the mire through photographs and funding and creating their own education.

The bright colours, messy street-life scenes and exotic sounds is what I would expect from a documentary set in India but somehow this documentary transcends time and place in my heart.

So if you are ever stuck feeling low and can’t even think of picking up a camera or going out then watch this! You won’t regret it.