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Stephen & Elisabeth in England
Tuesday, 31 August 2004
No Longer a US Alien!
Mood:
celebratory
Now Playing: The clickity Clack of the Train Tacks
I, Elisabeth Rachel Westberg, do hereby revoke most publicly my claim to be a US Citizen, resident, and alien. In 1 hour I will no longer be tied to a country I do not believe in. I have waited for this day since 1990, when my family moved to the United States. I HATED it. For years I have fantasized about cutting up my green card and mailing it to the US Immigration Bureau accompanied by a disagreeable essay, because "gasp" who wouldn't want to live in America? But today, my Greencard expires. I refuse to renew or apply for citizenship. With the choice of living in either Canada or England, why the hell would I choose to live in the States instead? The United States is a quagmire of ignorance. Yet, it is hard to blame the majority of Americans for this state of affairs. I believe they have been engineered to be isolated and uneducated, so that they will function more efficiently as consumers. I am a direct product of the American education system. I lenrt to spel and reed and rite. I lived in Virginia, in a town 1/2 black, 1/2 white. The city lived in segregation. The high school, almost exactly 1/2 black, 1/2 white, learned in segregation. There were 2 cafeterias, and though there were no signs of obvious aggression, it was clear where people belonged. Forget individuality, forget personal rights and freedoms. You learn early how the country prefers to operate. In grade 4, when I entered into US schools, they had already begun to separate the "gifted" students from the "average" students. TRANSLATE: "white/middle-class+" and "black or white-trash" As a Canadian, I was considered a minority, and held back. For five years, until my parents fought enough times to put me in more challenging classes, I witnessed the silent hand engineering American society. On days where the "gifted" students left class to be challenged, the few of us left behind were not given any new work to do. In the end, my graduating class certainly did not reflect the 50-50 ratio. Did you know that over 50% of the US population is non-white? And how is this represented in the media? In advertising? In movies? In books? In newspaper columns? In businessmen on the street? In Congress? On TV shows? What is clear to me, is that America is engineered by and for a small percentage of white people who have most of the money, because they are the only ones qualified for the jobs, or know someone who will give them a job, and therefore the target audience for businesses is the people with the money: white-middle-class+. This is just my personal story. Imagine the story of someone who is really involved in the system. Secrets and lies, secrets and lies, and a lot of racism. It is a sick sick country. The public services are falling apart. Christian fundamentalism spreads more hate than love. Most Americans cannot afford health care, because you must have a good job with benefits to be insured. The beautiful land is being polluted. And the whole world is laughing at how ignorant the Americans are. But really, it is those who are in power: the lawyers, the politicians, the businessmen, who are ignorant. In order to have this money and power, they have sacrificed not only the integrity of the country, but their own. I do not care for this kind of country, this mecca of opportunity. I don't care about SUVs, fast food, or big gooey chocolate-chip cookies. I don't need to keep my options open, I don't need lots of choice, because the answer is clear to me: The United States is not for everyone. So goodbye Resident Alien card: and hello freedom!
One final dissertation rant
Mood:
don't ask
Because all these rants are tedious but, I suppose, it's one of the reasons Elisabeth and I are in England. Re-drafting your dissertation is just as tedious as writing it in the first place. Only different.
Sunday, 29 August 2004
England, 1 year on.
(Well, a little more than one year, actually.) Elisabeth and I wanted to do this thing a while ago and analyze everything that?s transpired in the last year and how it?s changed us but as I?m feeling pretty melancholy this evening, now?s as good as ever. It?s been a strange year, that?s for sure. Egham was a major let-down. Probably the biggest of my life. We were unaware of Britain?s different standard of living and the vague warnings that preceded our arrival did nothing to help us with regard to specifics and, once we had moved into our 1st house, the reality soon set in. Economic reality, that is. I don?t think anyone truly realizes the degree of monotonous poverty we lived in, those first few months and even now, the degree of debt we?ve built up is quite ridiculous. Even if we?d have had twice the amount that we?d brought over, we would have struggled. The simple fact is that one person cannot support two people in England. Hell, two people can barely support two people. While in Canada, living with your parents until you?re 25 carries a certain stigma, it?s expected over here; if not sensible. Things are damn expensive and living in such a posh area didn?t help. I?m not going into too much detail about the rich assholes that permeated the area where we lived. Nor the pikey locals who, though poorer were just as exclusive and snobby in their own way. Royal Holloway is the country club of universities in Britain and was as exclusive as ever. If it weren?t for my classmates, many of whom are utterly fabulous people, it would have been a complete waste of a year. The closed-minded, inherently conservative nature of the college wasted my time and money and the sole fact that it made me a better writer (courtesy of someone who wasn?t, technically, a teacher there) is its only saving grace as a so-called academic institution. That said, the good thing is that, while it?s tested Elisabeth and I, the love that we feel for one another has in no way lessened and has grown in ways I?d never imagined. It?s also made me value my friends and family back home more than I?ve shown. Those who have come to visit have made us happy and sad and homesick and made me realize what a great place Canada is. And for that I?m grateful. God only knows what this year will bring. Hopefully more security and laughs. We?ve moved to an area that?s more our pace, style and, sadly, (Because these things are so 19th century) social and economic class and are starting to get on our feet. With school ending for me, I?ll be able to pull my weight and hopefully start to get us out of all the debt we?ve incurred. We?ve also started to make friends in the sense that we won?t have to keep on calling those people we get together with ?class-mates? or ?co-workers? and this will help. We?re also looking forward to more people visiting and, of course, traveling and having that mythological thing called a honeymoon sometime soon! Yes, all this sounds pessimistic, I suppose, but, having now lived through it, I wouldn?t have traded it in for anything (Except for Egham & Englefield Green ? that cesspool could be razed with napalm and all I would do is change the channel to something more interesting; say, Police Academy 4: Operation Miami Beach) as it?s made me a stronger person and affirmed the bond that Elisabeth and I made before we left. -Stephen the melancholy blogger out!
Saturday, 28 August 2004
Writing a dissertation doesn't change you except...
Why I love woking
Mood:
don't ask
Now Playing: A Grand Buffet song playing over and over in my head
Now, I don't want to appear to support illegal activities but it's refreshing to get the overpowering smell of hash as you leave your apartment. At least people are real over here. It's also reassuring when you go into your local off license (liquor store) and are able to joke around with aother guy buying beer and when you ask the lady behind the desk how she's doing, she says "Can't wait 'till 10 o'clock and I go to the pub." Yes, British folk acting like how I've heard British folk are supposed to act like - friendly, chatty, down to earth. I can't beleive we suffered in Englefield Green for as long as we did.
Friday, 27 August 2004
When cops are jerks
Mood:
don't ask
Now Playing: A plane flying over head
Okay, I admit that this hasn't been the best week for personal grooming. My hair's badly in need of a cut, my ratty shirt's got alot of holes in it and smells like cat pee and my cords are torn in several places and pretty thread-bare. I also shuffle alot more (1,2,3,4,5. 1,2,3,4,5.) but I was just on my way home from Sainsbury's with groceries (Bread, wine, a chocolate cake [Shh.. don't tell Elisabeth]) when I noticed a car following me. I turned around and sure enough it was the cops. I turned, they stopped. I resumed walking, they drove on, then parked a block up the street and watched me approach them & pass by. I hate that because whenever something like that happens, for some reason I can't walk like normal and today for some reason I affected a limp. uilty conscience I guess. Anyhow, they left me alone after I stopped to let a car full of a young family have priority getting out of their driveway. I'd expect this kind of jerky behaviour in Egham but Woking? Sigh. -Convict #78-55-40 out.
Thursday, 26 August 2004
WWPD?*
Mood:
don't ask
Now Playing: The bathroom fan
*What Would Papillon Do? Stop complaining about his dissertation on the blog and get to work. No mo' shenanigans. Your shenanigans will not be tolerated!
Public Transport Parade
Mood:
incredulous
Now Playing: Chumbwumba--"pictures of starving children sell records"
I took the 9:15 train from Woking to Weybridge. then the 9:30 from Weybridge to Egham. Then I walked to the bus termincal, where I caught the 10:04 bus to Slough (which has earned two National Titles: 1. The most boring place in Britian 2. The Armpit of England). I arrived in Slough to catch a bus I had no idea I had to take, which got me to the Wexham Hospital just in time for my 11:15 appointement. Despite the shabby building, the doctor was very competant and informed me that I have a permanent fungal infection in my ear, for which I must receive regular cleanings. They will be free if you must know. (That explains the shabby state of the building.) And what is this mysterious cleaning you ask? Well, the doctor places an x-ray over your ear, and inserts a tiny vaccum into the ear and carefully sucks out all the little bits. For those of you who weren't aware, I ususally do my 24-7 with inflamed ear drums...but that's neither here nor there. The good thing is, I only got to work at 3:30 today. But the bad news is I have to do it all again in 2 weeks. Perhaps I'll bring the camera and display the appaling scenery of Slough.
Wednesday, 25 August 2004
Putting My Foot Down
Mood:
rushed
Now Playing: the neighbor's TV below us
I will not disappear from this blog all together. I need to go to sleep now...having my ears cleaned tomorrow morning... E.
What's black and white and has 5165 words?
Mood:
don't ask
Now Playing: Elisabeth doing the dishes
My dissertation, silly. 51% done. I really, really wanted to make a joke about passing the 1/2 way line and leaving dissertation hell for dissertation purgatory but I think that I only get to enter that fantastic place once I've handed the mo-fo in and wait to see in the profs have the common sense to give me a big fat 'F.' In celebration of this mile (mill?) stone, here's a totally random section of my non-proofread little freakazoid: "...possibly, and even heavier hand saying ?I don?t know what I believe but this is what I?ve done,? the spectator is no longer being talked down to, being told to buy whatever snake oil is being offered and instead left to her own devices. Specifically, Barker does this by incorporating a number of juxtapositions vis-a-vis what the humanist theatre would have: Poetry and metaphor instead of accessible meaning; psychological unreliability instead of recognizable human types or political stereotypes with value; complex syntax instead of naturalism or realism; moments instead of goals; non-therapeutic instead of..." (Yeah, I know it's egocentric gloating, but whatever...) PS- This word count thing is really getting to me. I feel like Papillon in solitary confinement. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And when I get to that magical number of 10,000 - 14,000, I'll fall over.
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