Thursday

Half term and I'm still going into work. Today is the presentation day for the people doing the EPQ (extended project qualification). The students have to produce a mini-dissertation on a topic of their choice and then do a short presentation/lecture on their chosen subject. I was, briefly, a project supervisor; that means that I told them where to get information from, as well as helping them develop ideas. I only ended up supervising one kid, down from the three I was meant to help. Two of them never showed up (which was lucky as they were doing work on fashion) and one got reallocated to someone else- which was a pain in the ass, as they were doing "Is Anne Frank the true voice of the Holocaust?" Of course, in true upstart fashion, I was hoping to get them to compare Anne Frank to the likes of Primo Levi and show how her work misses the utter degradation and destruction of the soul involved- and once you read Levi, you can't help but feel that the claim that "all humans are essentially good" is actually quite vacuous. Try stealing bread from the mouth of a starving man and tell me that. If anything, the Holocaust showed that even innocent victims are capable of horrific acts of spontaneous evil, not the other way around.

Anyway, the student I had to supervise was a pleasant-enough lefty politics student who wanted to do work on civil liberties. We worked solid on it. She went out and found out all of the political details (laws that have been altered, what our protected rights are, plans by the government to infringe our liberties and the reasoning behind it) and I provided her with the philosophical backing (from John Locke through to Agamben). By the end, she had provided an equally weighted but utterly provocative account of how we are slowly having our liberties stripped away one-by-one, all under the false pretence of protection. I quite liked it. It showed passion and determination, and most of all, it showed the fact that she actually had some opinions.

It was all much of a muchness. Once I had to give up my post as supervisor (because I was overworked) someone else took over and told her that it was a bit emotive. Her use of the word "erosion" was loaded, that it wasn't written in an appropriate style. That, by the way, was bullshit. It was set out in the style of an undergraduate dissertation, but by the time it was mangled it had turned into an infantile list of points and evaluations. The student was in tears after her initial meeting with the new supervisor (as I was I nearly....we worked hard on that).

This is my problem. Study is my thing, not life or liberty. I've talked about this before and people give me the usual shit. Apparently life should be understood as a list of separate events without any distinction of quality or intensity or revelation. For example, I usually get the following...."How can you say you haven't done anything? You've got your degree, you're doing your MA, you've got an album out, you've been on tour, you were married (so you've been through things that others couldn't imagine), you're head of philosophy at a college and you're only 27". This is true, as a list.

But take things bit by bit. Nowadays, most people have a degree and many people have an MA- and in fact many get their MA by the time they're 25. What of my university experience? Wasted, absolutely wasted. I was painfully shy until my second year, then I had a breakdown of sorts and pulled out. Then I went back and all of my friends were a year older so I had to start making friends again. I failed. I moved out into a student flat with three members of the Christian's union, so we never partied. I didn't have other friends to go party with so I'd sit alone in my room and get drunk. Then I got married. The last year of university was spent living in the marital home. No parties. Then we broke up. So university wasn't all beer kegs, climbing lampposts, drunken fumbles, drug addled joy and the occassional essay. It was dull. I loved the study, but I dreamed of being able to join in with others. Regardless of what I said, my hatred of the drunken rutting masses was entirely resentment and envy.

And the marriage thing- jesus, since when was that a badge of honour? Suffering happens to people and all you can do is get on with it. If you're here now, you've survived suffering. Pointing it out is a waste of time as we all do it. I can't help surviving; it's a natural urge that I'd have if I was an insect. My problems are just a little more complex.

And the job and band things. OK, we have an album out- but what does that really mean? One day I made a record in my parents house and some guy from a label put it out. We haven't sold any. No one knows who I am. My band left me pretty much. The only guy left has a child and spondolitis- so if the family commitments don't stop him, the illness will (inevitably). We toured and no one came to see us, and no one bought the album. I have boxes full of the damn thing, and now I'm meant to record a follow up. As for the job- I got the job initially because the head of philosophy claimed she'd leave if I wasn't given it. Once I was in, it just made sense to pass the mantle over to me. It's a job that's killing me. I come in from work, have tea, then mark essays or prepare lessons. If I don't, then that's my weekend gone instead. In fact, most weeks the weekend goes anyway. It sucks up everything; my music, my writing (I was going to be a writer for a while) and even my study.

I have a lot. I'd never deny that. I don't think I have nothing or that what I do have is tainted. I just think I know myself well enough to be able to see that slightly disappointing mediocrity that hovers over me at all times. What I have done is so-so. What I haven't done is plentiful, but doesn't warrant mentioning because it hasn't been done. What I have (Katie, Mao, my family and friends) are obviously enough- but we are all aware that life requires more than people. It requires a sense that we lived well- that we lived enough. By now, all of my friends and family are settling down and yet I haven't even started yet. And I'm too old to do so. If I start now the whole thing would smack of a midlife crisis come early. I might as well grow a ponytail and listen to "Money For Nothing" in a convertable sports car. It's hard to embrace mediocrity. It's ephemeral, intangible. What would you do with it once it was grasped? It's all painfully emo, but a man has a right to assess his entire situation on a faceless blog. After all, if I did it interally I'd probably end up in a belltower with a rifle.


Thought for the day: "Blood is thicker than water" is a nice sentiment, until you introduce the possibility of parental abuse. Doesn't stop it being used as a platitude on every chat show. A little information is a dangerous thing.