Just when my faith in true love falters, I see these beauties: 

I’ve just watched this interview with Jay-Z. Apart from the “I have Obama on speed dial” comment that makes him sound a bit of a prat, I liked the way he talked. He made sense. Except: 11 #1 albums? More than Elvis? I can’t even name 3 Jay-Z songs so have no idea how on earth that happened.  But each to his own, I guess.

I hate Leona Lewis’s new song. This is terrible news because I adore Leona Lewis. A. Door. I just think she is so lovely and she is the only person whose music I’ll actually buy. Well, her and Tuku – who I’ve just found out doesn’t even have his own website. I blame Ryan Tedder for the Lewis debacle. He is the most collaboratively promiscuous horror show of a songwriter ever. He obviously struck on a formula that works with Apologize ans Bleeding Love. But maybe take a break, Monsieur Tedder.  Formulaic? Check.  Tired?  Check.  Lazy?  Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.   Like that Diane Warren woman who single-handedly subjected us to about a decade of terror by ramming Celine Dion down our throats with ballad after ballad of schmaltzy tripe. I would link to the Leona Lewis song but it truly is awful, so just imagine an awful song, and you’ve pretty much got the gist of it. I do love Le-Lew, though.  I’m a big fan.  Which is why this is particularly disappointing.

Ooh and I’m detoxing for the next eight weeks. Today is Day 1 and already I feel like I’m going to pass out from all sorts of withdrawal.

And finally, because I really didn’t have anything to blog about today, but wanted to blog – if that makes any sense – I’m feeling quite pleased at having just bought a really cool domain name. That’s what I do: I hoard domain names. Just in case. It’s fun.  And fulfilling. And really makes up for all those other disappointments and missed opportunities in life.

Sometimes, I’ll be walking along the street half listening to my iPod, half trying not to trip over my feet and I’ll just think “astridblue.com”. And I’ll marvel at how cool that sounds. And I’ll congratulate myself for thinking of it all by myself because it’ll surely come in handy should I ever start a quirky fashion label, or write a story about a Scandinavian hooker  Then I’ll dash home, whip out my credit card and get ready to buy the domain name from those people who I assume own the internet – and words – because how the hell else do they get away with charging me for either?

Then I’ll find out that someone has already bought astridblue.com and no, I don’t want freakin’ astridblue.info.  And then we’re back to disappointment and missed opportunities.  Moue.

Dear World

So this is where we are right now:

In the red corner: Kanye West interrupts the insipid acceptance speech of some spotty-faced teenager accepting an award for a video she neither conceptualized nor directed nor produced.  Taylor Swift.  As in an adjective randomly tacked on to the end of a surname? Like “Barnes Hungry” or “Davies Oblique”? Ok.

In the blue corner is a 12-year old girl – some dirty old molester’s “bride” – who died during excruciating childbirth after 36 hours of labor. This CNN article says she “struggled for three days in labor, before dying of severe bleeding…”. At 12.

• One of these stories should make us want to writhe and rail against a reality that is completely unacceptable.
• One of these stories should make us want to claw our way to the nearest mountain top, or at the very least, leap up onto our Twitter high horses, to scream our outraged revulsion.
• One of these stories should make us want to accuse and point angry fingers and wish this irreversible injustice into non-existence so that a young girl could get another chance.

And, according to my newsfeed, one of these stories did.

Not that outrage or wishing or mountain-top screaming ever made the blindest bit of difference to anyone.  In the end, it’s all just impotent noise, I know.

But still, a little bit of posturing and a couple of vacant platitudes would be so comforting right now.  If only to confirm that there hasn’t been a total disconnect.   I mean, what on earth is going on when everyone from Barack Obama to…whoever is on the opposite end of the “magnitude spectrum” will weigh in on this Kanye/Swift drivel but kids are being raped and their little bodies are buckling under the strain of a burden they should never have to bear yet no-one’s got anything to say about that?

Nothing like waking up to bit of oblivious narcissism in the morning.  I need a new newsfeed.  

Love

Angry Girl (Glad she’s got a blog because she’ll never be able to afford therapy)

A lot has happened this week and blah, blah, blah – I’m bored of listening to myself turn it over in my head already.

The highlight – lowlight – was me forgetting my nephew’s second birthday. I have a really good excuse why but still…

I feel like such a douchebag right now.

I managed to log on to Facebook for about 3 seconds on Wednesday, the day after his big day, and pretty much every single member of my family, and most of my sister’s friends, had their statuses wishing him a happy birthday. Except for me.

And then my sis sent round an email of him with all his birthday goodies – thank goodness she listened to my rant about parents posting pics of their kids on social networking sites (so not cool) – and it seemed that pretty much everyone on planet earth had not just remembered the little man’s birthday, they’d emptied out Toys ‘R’ Us into my sister’s living room, too. Except me.

So I sent a “jokey “ group email to all my sisters which said:

“You guys!

How could I forget A’s bee-day?? This must surely put me in last place in the the Aunt Olympics.”

To which his mum replied: “Yes. It does.”

Ouch.

Cue panicky phone call with me shouting down the phone: “You didn’t tell him I forgot, did you? Don’t tell him I forgot! Don’t you dare!!!”

I really think this is a sign that I should start having my own kids whose birthdays I can carelessly overlook. There is a danger I might be overinvesting in Little A.

I hope he doesn’t grow up to be some kind of pervert.

Two things happened this week to bring my faith into sharp focus.

Firstly was this story. Then there was the fact that Kris Allen won American idol.

The first story made me think a lot of things. Mainly of that quote:

“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians.”

Then Kris Allen won American idol and it confirmed for me what I’ve known for a while now: those who rail loudest against bigotry and oppression are often the most close-minded and overbearing. They are all for independence of thought and creativity of expression as long as it falls slickly in line with their own. You see Allen apparently won the singing contest because the rabid, homophobic Christians were just too bigoted to let a gay guy (allegedly) win. Nothing at all to do with the fact that listening to Adam Lambert sing is like having your eardrums violently raped.

One of these stories is hugely devastating and horrific and shines a shameful light on what people can do under the cloak of religion. The other is irrelevant fluff that everyone will have forgotten by the time the week is over. If they haven’t already.

But they both made me think. About rebranding and PR. Christianity really is in the doghouse. I wonder what Steve Jobs would do with Brand Jesus if it were his to overhaul. The only time you hear God’s name on the telly anymore is when coke-snorting, gun-toting, girl-friend-abusing stars of film and music are thanking Him for making an award win possible. Or when someone is using Jesus’ name to bash lifestyle choices they don’t agree with.

I didn’t think that was our job – the bashing. I’m pretty sure it says something about not judging and sorting out your own crap before getting involved in other people’s.

And how can you blame people for being turned off by Jesus when those who are meant to do his work are only front and center in the media when they exposed for unbelievable cruelty, fraud or worse?

So Christianity does need an overhaul. We should keep the name, because it’s kind of important. But I do wonder what would happen if, for a while, we dropped the “Praise be’s” and the “Hallelujahs”. God doesn’t need a pack of vacuous sycophants shrieking his name. These are just words, after all.

What about…

• If we walked the walk a lot more. And talked the talk a little less?
• If we started off by just living our lives the way that God tells us to in the New Testament (not the Old one – scary) without posting millions of tweets about it. Or updates on Facebook about it. Or boo-hooing into microphones about it at the Oscars and the Grammys.
• If we did away with the obscene opulence? You know, the golden thrones, the bejeweled scepters, the Persian rugs, the regal cathedrals.
• If we got rid of the going-through-the motions rituals? The ring-kissing and rosary-clutching and wine-guzzling and baby-dunking?
• If we told people in Africa that condoms were absolutely crucial to preventing the spread of disease rather than employing whatever other mangled reasoning makes us think being “right” is more important than saving lives?
• What about if we didn’t market ourselves as separate and superior. And marketed Jesus instead by staying true to the way he was: integrated and a servant.

I’m happy to acknowledge the discordance of a very imperfect me, talking about what we should do. But somebody really should and here’s as good a place as any to start.

“A **** company in **** district of ****, is looking for native English copywrites to write copy for *****”

That sounds so like me!

“…The candidate should come from England, the USA, New Zealand, Canada, or Australia.”

Ah, not so much, then. It’s the last sentence that really makes my heart sing. Because they’re saying No darkies, basically. Which is fine by me, China. Honestly. Despite the fact that I am blogging about it. Doesn’t mean that I have a problem with your blatant discrimination or the fact that you assume someone with a light skin or a certain color passport is automatically more competent or superior. I mean, have you seen my people on the dance floor? Or do you just watch us swim?

I wonder what’d happen if only a bunch a bunch of Maoris, Aborigines, Native Americans, Black Brits and Black Americans applied. But China, join us in the 21st century some time. The water’s mighty fine. Wait, what century is this? It is the 21st one, right? Or is it the 22nd? Certainly not still the 20th – feels like that one’s been going on forever!

Ties in nicely with what my sister was saying about education in the West. I remember learning how to give speeches, spell words like rhododendron, miscellany and diarrhoea as well as how and when to use a semi-colon*** by the time I was 11 years old. And that was considered normal in deep dark Africa where dangly-breasted women shun bras and apparently eat their own children.

Now you see kids (and grown ups) in certain countries using words like “carn’t” and “lyk” without even a smidgen of irony. But these are the people that make the “Preferential Candidate” list because their passports are pretty.

Though, to be fair: my passport is pretty minging. Bottle green, Zimbabwe. What were you thinking?

***The best way to use a semicolon is…sparingly.