What is in that is inherent in human nature to want to make us fuck everything up? I can not even count the times when I have let something good slip away from me because of a passing whim for something else. It has got to stop.
Humans are designed to want. I want. I want a lot of things. No, I want it all. I want everything, everyone.

The worse thing is the not knowing and the feeling of confusion. I am too scared of getting things wrong.  What is wrong? Perhaps nothing.

Humans live in the pursuit of emotion. We chase after love, passion, happiness. We relish praise and flattery.

I wonder what it would be like to live beyond human nature, something that is flawed in its very design.

I wonder what it is like to really know your own desire.

I wonder what it is like to not live for the pipe dream.

I wonder what it is like to truly happy.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t smoke. It is bad for you, expensive, makes you smell, it’s an addiction.  But really I think all that horribleness, all that pain in later life might just be worth it to get back at those bureaucratic idiots that enforce stupid things in this country.

Let’s first let us look at Challenge 21 (or Challenge 25,30,101, whatever mad number they make it). What really makes me mad is that I am 19. Not that far over the legal age now, sure. I don’t drive. I am a very likely to be challenged. Thus, in order to fulfill my addiction I must carry round, at all times, my passport.

Not only could it prove to be a security risk, even if I lost it I can face paying out the cost of a new one (and even a trip to London) and they do not come cheap. Challenge 21 is a quick-fix solution to a deeper rooted problem. Why do young people drink? Why do they smoke? Let’s get down to the nitty gritty and work from the bottom up. And, Ok, I can put up with being carded but people who are OBVIOUSLY over the age of 30- it’s just a waste of time.

And do not get me started on the smoking ban. I don’t disagree with it wholly but why on earth is it not acceptable to smoke in a bus shelter but Ok to smoke in something that LOOKS like a bus shelter with loads of other smokers? It’s like we are being swept under the rug. You go to the pub and you drink. You are damaging your body. You EXPECT that. Why take smoking away? Some would say it’s tradition
What really pissed me off was a comment by a non-smoker who said that she was looking forward to the smoking ban so it wouldn’t be so smoky in the pub. Ok, fine, I can accept that. But then she went on to add that now all the smokers were outside ruining her being able to sit there and enjoy the sun. What the fuck does this woman want?! Where did she expect them to be?  I was incredulous. By the way, love, never mind the cig smoke you will probably get skin cancer anyway.
Smokers are like people with contagious tropical diseases that they are worried they might catch if they get too close. Smokers are the plague who must be removed in cartsWhat I really don’t get is if they are putting all these restrictions on where you can smoke and who is allowed to buy cigarettes and whatnot just bloody ban it and do us all a favour. But then again we all know why they wont..

All lie is based on truth, so does that mean all truth is based on lies?

Is truth a lie?

Popularity is the lie in the truth, ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know’. So to reach the state of positions of truth it’s a fabrication.76% women agree with this statement. Doesn’t mean it’s correct.

Follow this line from beginning to end- all that sits between doesn’t matter if you reach the final goal. What matters what comes before if you only want to reach a predetermined point? Isn’t that the point of life goals, “When I grow up I want to be…” If you reach this destination, mission accomplished, nothing else can matter. So what deterrent is there from lies?

 Humanity itself enables us to be able to see what others would like to hear, what others would like to see so this influences our speech and our appearance. This makes us lie without even realising it. But not all lie is a mistake as we all know. What is a white lie anyway? A ridiculous notion- a lie is a lie however you disguise it.

We are all a reflection of each other- of others wants, mistakes, hatred, denial, love and despair. Nothing is created unless it seeks the approval of at least yourself - you cannot create what you are not attached to- but often it is more for the approval of others. It is yourself split and fragmented- abstract. This is not yourself- it is one side of the cube.

 

Life cannot improve because of fabrication, deceit, human nature.

Life is a lie.

No fire where life has been lost has been included on this list.

 Thanetarians love a good fire and it is the highest of social events. Fires drawn the crowds to the often deserted coastline, out of their houses on to the beaches. Here is my run down of the best fires around.

5) The amazing flaming shed

Ok, so this isn’t a Thanet fire at all. I am sorry. However many Thanetarians (my mum and dad) and ex Thaneterians ( some of my mates) witnessed the fire in my street in Canterbury. It was fantastic. At first we were worried, because of a reflection, that someones bedroom was on fire but then we discovered it was all smoke and mirrors and just a silly shed the merriment began! Unfortunately the even was short lived as it was contained soon after it was discovered but it certainly lit up our evening!!

4)  Warehouse, near Margate Old Town

This was a spectacular event and for sheer atmosphere alone it was phenomenal. The fire hit early evening after a long hot summer day with scores of people around in anticipation of the following day’s main event: the carnival. So, imagine the luck when fire ripped through a disused factory , it was like all our dreams had come true a day early! I heard about the fire through the wonders of myspace and I soon pulled on my sneakers and went on my way to check out the action! Thousands of people lined the streets watching the billowing smoke from behind the AMF bowling alley, which is where I took refuge for the evening. The fallout of this fire was the most interesting as the beach was piled with mountains of rubbish from all the excitement. An exemplary fire.

3) Hotel in Cliftonville

This fire I witnessed by sheer chance. Myself and a couple of young laydees were hanging round the bus stop as we did in these days and noticed an apocalyptic gloom ascending over the town. So, like all inquisitive laydees would, we followed the smoke. What greeted us was the sight of a burning hotel, mountains of press and around four million Thanetarians swarming on the promenade enjoying the evening glow of a slow burning guesthouse. The response was huge to this fire and it was certainly one some people regretted missing!!

2) Library and Register Office, Ramsgate

 This is the only fire I have not personally witnessed I am ashamed to say. However for sheer community anger and reverberations this on has to take second place. The library (and shortly after the register office) was next to my old school and I remember the skips full of burnt books which they were removing for weeks. The fire was almost certainly arson and many local people were outraged and appauled at who would do such a thing. A sad shame to have missed, I might have been angry about it too.

 1) Mr G’s Arcade Fire

This is the mother of all Thanet fires. The biggest, the best and the most watched, the most talked about and the most noticed day to day as it has left a whacking great hole in the seafront ( save the time when that Ferris wheel was there- what trouble that caused). My friend and I sat as young teenagers on a bench and we watched it burn.

 

Perhaps this is why they set fire to the EXODUS writing on the beach. We can all relate to that.  I remember once I was outside KFC in Margate and some drunk lady asked me that way to the Britannia and as she turned and left, she exclaimed ‘ And they call this the promised land!’.

Please feel free to share your (tasteful) fire memories.

And finally- senic railway fire does not a happy kirsty make.

This can serve as a reference for my friends who I constantly berate for saying things in my presence which make me shout very loudly. Or, in fact, if I ever have to meet you. Or see you in the street. On TV. Anywhere.

Indeed
‘Indeed’ is not a suitable response to a statement. If there is a way to patronise someone there it is. Six letters, two syllables and ten tons of arrogance accompany this seemingly innocent reply. When I hear this said to me I burn down the offender’s house and their family suffer at my hand.

Random, used in the wrong context or meaning
Having a party, inviting a load of people and then declaring that ‘a load of random people showed up’ is not a random event.
Going to the supermarket and buying dusters, mini eggs, copy of Horse and Hound and three bags of hamster food and coming home and declaring that ‘ I bought loads of random things at the shops!!!1!!111!’ is not random. Knowing that what you bought may be seen as slightly out of character enough to declare it removes the random element of the trip.
Please stop calling your photo albums on Facebook ‘random’ or ‘randoms’. They are people you know and everybody is aware you put the pictures on there for a reason because EVERYONE ELSE DOES IT TOO.

‘I’m well mad!’
Putting a ferrett in your bag/ dressing up as a duck/ bringing a trolley to a party/ wearing a traffic cone on your head etc etc does not make you mad. It makes you desperate.

‘I’m different!’
The generic black skulls t-shirts, trousers with chains on, boots with big buckles, piercings, Nirvana hoodies et al do not make you unique. I don’t see how you haven’t looked around and noticed that it’s all the same. Believe me, I was one of you once.

‘Can I borrow a fag/ Do you have a spare fag?’
Yes because I always carry spares. To borrow something insiunats it will be returned and I doubt this as you are a smelly man who I don’t want to see again. NO.

Also if you are Ruby Wax I suggest you keep very well out of my way.

Response to http://www.geocities.com/canterburystuckists/jamesdunn (Read first).
This article is a definite attack at the author who, from experience, is an absolute arse.

James Alexander Xavier Dunn was born in London on July 14th, 1987 in an area of London he would rather not disclose as it is hugely embarrassing to him. He grew up in Birchington-on-Sea, Kent, and expressed an interest in art from an early age. After attending Chatham House Grammar School in Ramsgate (which frankly no-one would care in the slightest), he spent two years getting drunk and avoiding going to KIAD (now UCCA) in Canterbury. Pretending to be dissatisfied with the way the Fine Art course was run, when in fact he left because he was completely bone idle, thought he was better than everyone else and also after being told he would be booted out if he didn’t start attending, he took the decision to quit the college in May 2007 (just after his girlfriend dumped him (me) because she was fed up with his attitude), and has since moved back to Birchington, where he has been attempting to sell paintings and living off what remains of his student loan as he couldn’t possibly get a real job like everyone else and still expects his mother to pay for all his clothes.

James has been painting in-between being paraletic and watching videos on Youtube for around two and a half years. Initially he favoured unstylized figurative art, but as he went through college his work developed and changed , adopting surrealism and occasionally cubism and expressionism. Frequently included as subjects in his art - which focuses largely on people (tits) and human behaviour (drunks) - are traditional figures such as dancers, musicians, and harlequins, among other curiosities. Some of James’ work is drawn from life, while other examples are derived entirely from his imagination which is limited. During the summer of 2007, when he had been back in Birchington for about two months (another pointless fact), James began to incorporate abstract elements in his work, taking an experimental approach which is mainly drawing squiggly lines all over the background. He began painting shapes and patterns (squiggly lines) which weave through the people in his paintings and form part of the landscape of each picture he creates which basically but in a less arty farty way is ripping off Dali.. The end result is a composition that is devoid of perspective and looks out of shape as if their faces were melting. James has described the current style of his work as ‘Balthus meets Picasso meets de Chirico meets Kandinsky’. Kirsty would describe his work as ‘a load of bluey-greeny bollocks which will never change’.

His interests outside of art extend to pissing people off, shouting un-PC comments at strangers and writing in an intolerable third-person in attempt to make his uselessly underdeveloped life into something more than it actually is.

A response to http://inquirelive.co.uk/node/178 (read first)
This entry is not an attack to the author of the original article who has explained to me that he adopted a character when writing.

1) If you are a snotty aesthete try not to ruin my day with your whining. I happen to find a certain charm in concrete nightmares.
2) How about visiting and not buying said sandwich? What about visiting a run-down café? They will glad of the company and I am sure I can recommend some cracking ones to you. Regardless there is something rather romantic about an arcade with its paint peeling off, requests for you to come join the bingo so you can win a set of pots in a presentation ribbon and then on to the beach to get sand in all your belongings. As for the city what do you expect? Surely the mere definition of the word allows for some sense of misinterpretation of the excitement within.
One could say it’s only disappointing people who are disappointed. .
For the record these photos are not shopped they are staged. That is different. The blue sky usually does exist. Also, if I may butt in-which I will, there are literally THOUSANDS of free things to do in London. Seriously man I don’t know where you have been all your life.
3)Surely all the shops being owned by the same people is Capitalist? Perhaps I am confused. Yes I have seen everything before I have left but so what? And please, try not to plagiarise Bill Bailey. It’s not very becoming of you.
4) I would disagree with your stance here that museums are just a way to generate money. Alright, in some respects that is the case. But time and time again I have come across instances where museums have had to be closed down because of a lack of government funding and grants. Just because YOU might not want to see some old coins (frankly, it sounds like you don’t really like doing anything) doesn’t mean that you are the only one. History is cool, and don’t you forget it.
5) Avoid at all costs any article that has “miserablist” in the title, especially one that features “amateur journalists”. These are bitter individuals who failed to make the local newspaper, and who get their revenge by shamelessly flaunting their own faux-Clarkson-esque writings on an unsuspecting student body who just wanted to read a bit of news for once and not an article better suited for a personal blog.

I have some strange allure towards cafes especially old, skanky, greasy ones. I know why this is, of course, I am from Thanet. I skipped school to eat with my mates in cafes and smoke fags and drink beer on the beach. Coastal kids have different pastimes to land-bound kids, different hobbies.
Anywho, there is a very good website which contains small articles about such cafes and so on. The top one out of the London area (which, of course is always going to be the standard for cafes- Del Boy, Tracy Jacks and all that) was one which I used to work at.
This shocked me.
I used to work in Morellis, Broadstairs and this place is different because it’s one of the only original 1950’s style diners left in the country that have original features. Like the ghastly pink Formica ceiling feature and the soda fountain which was never on. People flocked into our establishment as if if were some kind of Mecca. And, sure, for people with interests such as mine that seems perfectly reasonable. But there is nothing like working somewhere to really really put you off. I won’t go too much into it, it was a long time ago and I like my job now so it all worked out OK in the end. But there is nothing more aggravating than hating something that you should really love. And perhaps if I hadn’t worked there and associated it with all the betrayal, the rowing, the sadness I felt at that time then I might be able to view what a beautiful place it really is.
And that is depressing.

It’s funny.
I had a friend once. Pretty girl, very sure of herself, but not so sure at the same time. I thought if I were a bit more like her and a lot less like me then perhaps I would get along in life- do a little better, be more interesting, have a bit more money. Our lives have moved in coincidental circles, for years we were like a Venn diagram, with my feelings towards her moving from adoration to hatred at the swing of the pendulum. I hated the way she made me feel- like I couldn’t compete with her but at the same time I ridiculed her. I laughed at her gaudy way and how she could seem intelligent when it was sheer ignorance. It was all a game, a trick, a test to see if her companions matched her, if they could see through her. I tried to break down an invisible wall. We spent days together (her evenings, of course, spent with whomever the love of her life was at this time) smoking and drinking, talking about our lives and trying to put the world to rights as if we owned it, as if the world was ours for the taking and we were the ones intuitive enough to figure out its mystery. I only wanted to take it from her.
Any now we don’t speak, drifted apart like shattered glasses. We were never that subtle.
And I miss her now more than I ever did.

Friday 2nd November
The end of a long week of recruitment drive, DJing, flyering, boredom and bottles of diet coke.

Saturday 3rd November:
Main Admin. It is now my responsibility to log on top Main Admin and fwd all the emails to whom it is necessary as they have bounced. The amusing part of this is reading all the emails which enables me to delve into the life and world of other exec departments. The downside is that exec members enjoy replying to mail admin so once again the email has bounced and this goes around and around and around in perpetual motion for the rest of the academic year.
Today I mass emailed various promoters, bands, small mammals promoting CSRfm to the world (well whoever would listen really) and now I wait and wait and wait.

Monday 5th November
No fireworks for me, I am too busy setting up for the arrival of BBC Radio Asian Network. I managed to look miserable in all the photos and the turnout was dire but the initials “BBC” help an OK day slightly better

Tuesday 6th November
Meetings, meeting and sometimes no meetings when you cannot find the person and have no idea of their appearance.

Wednesday 7th November
Sometimes, no amount of pretend “planning” and very well thought out “advertising” can stop an event from being worse than you ever imagined. An embarrassment and a waste of time.

Friday 9th November
Marquee+wind+Conservative MPs+ sound monitoring= tedium/10.
No marantz= anger
Myriad fails to trick me
First 1 1/2 live broadcast. I give myself 6/10.