Two Court Cases

Recently I read reports of two court cases involving assault and bodily harm, there is nothing really to connect these other than the fact that, while surfing randomly, I just happened to read them in quick succession.


Case 1
I could only find a Daily Mail report for this one, which admittedly is far from ideal, but presumably even the Mail has to get the facts of the case correct, whatever they intend to do with them.

In the UK, a Cambridge graduate earning upwards of Stg90,000 a year was brought to court for assaulting his wife. He ended up there after he branded her with an iron, although on other occasions he had cut her badly with a knife and beaten her the old-fashioned way. After the iron incident she was so traumatised, she had to be subpoenaed to give evidence in court. The court fined him two thousand pounds. Apparently the judge felt that, given the provocation for the assault hinged on the circumstance of him living with his wife and this was no longer the case, that no useful purpose would be served by sending him to prison, or indeed giving him a suspended sentence. The judge also felt that community service would be unfair given the long hours the accused worked.


Case 2
And I can't find a decent newspaper report for this one at all because my stupid uni doesn't subscribe to American broadsheets. So it's mostly from this blog here.


In the States, in August a group of seven African-American (what are described as lesbian-identified) women were walking down the street heading for a night out. Some randomer propositioned one of them and received the expected response. He followed them down the street hurling insults and abuse. Eventually, they turned and faced him, where he spat on one of them and threw a lit cigarette. It devolved into a physical confrontation, and at one point where he was either throttling one of the women or repeatedly banging her head off the ground, (depending on which report you read) another woman drew a steak knife she keeps in her bag. Two other men joined in to help(?) the women and one of them ended up stabbing the original man in the abdomen. There is CCTV footage for most of this, it is not reliant on witness testimony alone. One way or another neither of these men ended up in court but the women did. Four of the women were sentenced to between three and a half and eleven years for injuring the propositioner.


That is all.

Shelfari

I've just joined Shelfari, I don't know why. All my life I've constitutionally been a non-joiner. I don't like being part of groups. I'm not even a member of the CFA, Melbourne Football Club or ALP. I support them actively, I just can't join. Just like some people get claustrophobic.

But I'm getting a little circumlocutory.

I invited other people to join Shelfari and I got an email saying 'X has accepted your invitation. He/she must think you're incredibly smart.'

(I checked this proposition with X, by the way, and no dice. )

Whatever they're paying their marketing people it just isn't enough.

Ask and it shall be given unto thee

I was moaning recently on my Facebook page about how long it's been since I read an even half decent piece of fiction. (This is the great thing about Facebook, when you're not arsed turning something into comprehensible English which I do feel more or less compelled to do for the blog you can just whack it up on Facebook.) I was wandering round my local public library in blind desperation and I fell over Jonathan Strange & Dr Norrel which I've been meaning to read for ages, but due to Viola-related circumstances never got round to.

I am only ten or so chapters in, so I can't really say how good a book it is. But what I can say is that it is the most beautifully written novel I have read in a very long time. His prose is an absolute pleasure to read, and the whole thing is written with a wonderful subtle and benevolent humour, a sort of cross between Austin and A A Milne. I have yet to confirm, but I suspect I am reading yet another book much better than Rowling's.

21st Century Spinster

No one is able to put things in quite the same way as one's parents are they?

Last week I met my father for a few drinks, and we got to talking about a friend of my brothers that we don't see that much of anymore. I still think of C as a sunny faced eight year old who had quite a bit of difficulty pronouncing my name. In C's case this is a particularly ridiculous attitude given that the boy is now six foot seven and about two feet across. There's eight years between The Brother and myself and C's a little bit younger than him. The thing is, on the infrequent occasions when I run into him this adorable giant still speaks to me likes he's eight. "Heya C, how you keepin?" "Oh hello Miss (well alright he doesn't actually say Miss but it's there quite clearly in silent brackets) Bluej, I'm very well thank you, how are you also?" He will then shuffle about the place looking at his feet, till I get through the obligatory list of relatives I have to enquire about and release him. I'm treated to a million watt angelic smile and off he goes.

While I was talking to Dad about what he's up to and such I mentioned in passing the way the boy still treats me like I'm a sort of favourite maiden aunt. Dad looked thoughtful for a moment or two and then announced "Well I suppose you are, but you needn't worry you already like cats". He then grinned like Jack Nicholson at me. I, of course, responded with the only two word pithy and cutting retort possible under the circumstances.

Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense (no one enjoys Medieval chivalric orders underwear jokes like I do...)

What mad genius invented the sports bra? Whoever it was ought to be knighted for services rendered to damsels in distress everywhere!

(Yes, that's right, thanks to Cuthbie's Girl who finally just marched me to M&S because she knows what a procrastinator I am, I now have a new sports bra. Hurrah!)

So Many Nights

Today is working out as a good day, apart from the fact I busted my knee at the gym this morning (I'm not usually that unco and I did warm up and everything) but other than that, a good day. Melbourne won on the weekend against the Dogs (who I've always been prejudiced against), I got some good feedback on something I wrote, work remains comical, I successfully defrosted the frige (it took me two days and a lot of soggy carpet, but you've got to count all the victories), I've worked out a new recipe and best of all, there is a new Cat Empire Album out on the 22 of September called 'So Many Nights'. I think their albums are released in the States and the UK now, but its still hard to get their music in Europe. Never fear, its all available from their website. Go and find it, you'll be a better, happier person.

Hey Mam! Look at me! Maaaaaaammmm, are you looking? Are you?

We've all been sucked into Facebook, for which I blame JBee, and rightly so. I've held out against this for a long time for two reasons. Firstly, I didn't really see the point and secondly, the last thing I need in my life is another time waster. But that's the thing about a lot of 2.0 stuff isn't it? It sounds rubbish and pointless and dull on paper, so to speak, and then you're bullied into registering to make someone shut up about it and suddenly you're hooked. Twitter has to be the ultimate example of this, of an exercise in pointlessness, but there again I've not tried it.

Anyway, I'm well into it now. While the novelty still gleams I'm obsessed with making it pretty, making it sing, dance and make tea and ......the other thing. The other thing has not just effected me by the way, it's not just my weirdness it's all of us. We've all gone from being reasonably well balanced young women with full and healthy (ish) lives to now being trainee stalkers. There is no ex-colleague, boyfriend, friend, classmate, ex-anything you like who remains unturned. This cannot be healthy, apart from anything else it ensures you end up viewing your life from the angle of a string of failed relationships of one kind or another.

I discovered myself this morning, composing, as in giving thought to, what my status update was going to be when I got into work. Aghast, I wondered what it is about them that makes these things interesting, why in the name of God do I care? Now Facebook offers a handy and usefully informal (and therefore low obligation) way of keeping in touch with people and of course, provides the instantaneous response that apparently this generation demands. (Though I have recently discovered that I am, if barely, Generation X rather than Y, which may explain a lot.) But I don't think that's really it, the key to all these applications, Twitter (particularly the inexplicable Twitter), blogging, Youtube, social networking, to a greater or lesser extent, is that they all sponsor and in many cases actively encourage rampant narcissism. What other possible motive could explain the urge to declare unto the world whether you're sitting at your desk in work or your desk at home? Who cares? - You do, and I'll listen to you if you listen to me. It's all part of the BB phenomenon, a society where privacy is valueless when compared with even the outside possibility of petty levels of fame. It doesn't matter what you're famous for, it's not the achievement that's the thing, it's the fame itself. It's a symbiotic social arrangement based on culturally vindicated voyeurism.

The ultimate in alienation, if you don't see me I'm not here? Or just levels of decadence that would give the final days of Rome a run for its money. Mind you I'm one to talk, I'm trying to think of witty ways of saying 'I'm not working'.