Today I went to my first student protest! Yeah! Oh, we smashed the system all right!



Well, maybe "quietly dismantled" it - everyone was completely pleasant, and disappointingly non radical. Very little chanting happened. We didn't even get riot police - only a nice chap with an incongruously MASSIVE gun who came over to explain that his job was to protect us and our right to hold a protest, enquire politely what our cause was and after explaining his job required him to be neutral and apolitical, give us tacit support.

Anyway, as I understand it, the issues are the least important part of any protest - it's all about shouting, the media and looking cool while stickin' it to the man. Nevertheless, our protest was anti Proposition 8, which to crib from Wikipedia:

Proposition 8 was a California State ballot proposition that amended the state Constitution to restrict the definition of marriage to a union between a man and a woman. It overrode a recent California Supreme Court decision that had recognized same-sex marriage in California as a fundamental right. The official ballot title language for Proposition 8 is "Eliminates Right of Same-Sex Couples to Marry." The entirety of the text to be added to the constitution was: "Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California."

I think we can all agree that that's wrong. If you don't, then it's not "get the hell off my blog" time - I'm interested in what you have to say. But you're still wrong. Do some research on the internet, and the pro-Prop 8 propaganda is really quite disgusting, hilarious and manipulative, whatever you feel on the issue - gay marriage will directly result in cute little children being eaten alive by lions and tigers. Yeh, right. Also, I don't understand how they can say "We're not bigoted, but we don't want our children to learn about gay marriage". It's a contradiction in terms - the implication is, "I don't want my child learning that gay lifestyle is an option".

I sympathise that there is a time and a place for kids to be exposed to ideas like this - or in saying that, am I in fact reconfirming the idea that heterosexuality is "right", and homosexuality, while it should be legal and celebrated, is something that should stay in the minority? I never claimed to be perfect. Certainly it's something I would want to talk about with any child of mine, to let them know I'm open to whatever they want - but all the same, I would feel uncomfortable having this conversation at too young an age, even though in a perfect and equal world there should be no difference or distinction at all. I wouldn't have the horror attack this woman has (http://protectmarriage.com/video/view/5), when her little darling comes home claiming she can marry a princess. And true equality can never happen until a generation of children grow up without bigotry.

I'd been privately fuming about the idea for days now, so when I got an invite to a protest half an hour before it was due to start, it was an easy yes. I joined H--- across the road, and armed with posters, we set off for Grosvenor Square and the US Embassy.

The tube is hilarious on weekends, as someone in London Transport rolls a dice and flips coins and shuts arbitary lines just to see what happens. For some arcane reason, probably related to ley lines and the movement of the moon in conjunction with Venus, this tends to fall on the Jubilee line - specifically, the part of the Jubilee line I need to go anywhere from Finchley Road. So H---- and I craftily attempted to take the Metropolitan Line to Baker Street, then swop onto the Bakerloo line.

Unfortunately, everyone else had had this idea too, which meant by the time we got there it just wasn't funny.

Now, to an angry Londoner, the honour of the tube is inviolate. This is why if a tube train stops, even very briefly, there will be a contrite apology broadcast over the speakers to explain exactly what has caused this two second delay. The explanation is usually still going on with the train moving again. And if trains don't arrive regularly on the platform, CALL THE MAYOR! SLAP A HOMELESS PERSON! I'M GOING TO RITUALLY BURN MY OYSTER CARD! I'M 32.8 SECONDS LATE! So, to an angry Londoner, Tube closure is the equivalent of a basic human right being temporarily suspended - our fundamental right to use the Tube is up there with a right to education and free speech. Only much more important.

It might also explain why Londoners - or was it just me? - find travel anywhere else completely impossible, without the guarentee of a tube line more than six minutes away, all laid out on a nice easy map.

It was at this point I discovered H--- was claustrophobic - although to be honest, normal terms like claustrophobia don't quite cover the Tube at times like this. With the help of Google maps we established all we had to do was keep walking in a straight line and cut across Oxford Street to get to the US Embassy.

We were a bit early - but we found another pair of angry students, and I stuck up my rainbow umbrella to catch attention. We soon found the organisers, who were all very friendly.

I noted, with a little disquiet, that "Emily dressed up for Gay Pride protest" looks exactly the same as "Emily on any other occasion". It also occurred to me, after about half an hour of couples arriving to the protest, that not only was I the straightest person there, but that they had probably all assumed I was dating the friend I had come with (which didn't really bother me so much as amuse)

This did suprise me, to an extent. Or as J--- put it, mimicing some shocked conservatism, "Do you know what, I think some of those people might have been homosexuals!" I assumed most people there would be as I was, concerned liberal Brits without any personal connection to the outcome. Very wrong - the majority were Americans, many of which mentioned Love Exiles, which is a support and pressure group for same sex couples who chose to move away from their home country in order to be together. The only British representation was really from the students - about ten of us.

I hope I remain as I am, an enthusiastic tourist who gets excited on Camden trips, and can't get over the size of the shops or the price of the food. I hope I never become an angry Londoner, because in the whole three hours not a single one came and showed interest in the protest. We were standing inside a safety barrier, and throughout the day people deliberately "walked on the other side"

It's part of the London thing, you see. I'M NOT HERE! DON'T LOOK AT ME! STOP LOOKING AT ME! I DON'T EXIST, AND NEITHER DO YOU, AND NEITHER DO THE HOMELESS PEOPLE, OR THE PEOPLE SELLING BIG ISSUES, OR THE PROTESTERS ON THE STREET! IT'S JUST ME! It's the chief reason I hate public transport, all the people willing themselves out of existance.

Anyway, we put together a petition, and I got everyone's names on a mailing list, and all in all twas very fun.

Pointless, of course, protesting against a resolution that has already been passed, with about forty people in a country far from the epicenter, in front of a building shut for the weekend. But as I said above, protests aren't about the cause. They never change things. It's about being there and making a statement for yourself, a bit like giving to charity to salve your own soul. I'm going to another one on Thanksgiving, and even though H--- and I intend to mobilise Kings to attend, it won't make any more difference.

All that happened, really, was I wasted a day standing outside an empty building, getting cold.

T--- made an interesting point that when it comes to big issues of equality, democracy is never the right way to go. Apparently, if a vote had actually been taken on bi-racial couples in the 50s, it would have been massively opposed. Anyway, E-- and J-- arrived in time for the end of the protest, and we five went for a very expensive lemonade in the warm, followed by a brief trip to Camden, then to a pub. I bought a new top. It's a brown, long sleeved, clingy, plain wraparound top, and is identical to several other items in my wardrobe. But it's also completey eco-friendly, having been made from soy beans, and really cuddly soft. I have propped my "LOVE IS LOVE" sign up in my window, where it can be seen by every passer by. I chose that slogan because it represents my interest in the issue - an emotional, impulsive one. Other people had better signs, which brought up the politics and facts, but I never really got involved with that half. However, if we go again, then I'm making a copy of this one:


Then I went out with S-- and J-- for sushi - in the event, I actually had egg fried rice and dumplings, and they had various pork'n'noodle dishes. And I ordered "Bitter Lemonade" to drink, which unfortuantely turned out to be that foul green stuff which tasted like mouthwash. J-- studies law, and is really into his morals and ethics, so he always has some good conversation.

Oh, and I've just gotta say this here because there's no one else I can complain at: some evil sod has stolen my milk!


Bad move on their part - anything else, I probably wouldn't have noticed, but as I need milk for coffee, tea, hot chocolate, chocolate milk, cereal, angel delight and just plain milk, I tend to check on the amount I have at least twice a day - and this is blatant, mind: I can't even find the carton. Maybe I should do what I did when my Fanta got drunk: namely scrawl:

And complete it with a doodle of an angry-me, wielding an axe, in marker pen down the side of the half empty bottle. It's getting towards the end of term - in the last few weeks, my fanta and milk, and mug, and someone elses orange juice and fish pie have been unceremoniously pilfered. I wouldn't mind so much, except as I said, my milk is my treat of the day, and I didn't have the heart to sink to their level and "borrow" some for my own cereal this morning...




Finally, I have discovered I am an incorrigable collector. I think it's one of the major propellors behind my Doctor Who obsession - having to track down the videos, the books, the audios, the satisfaction of the chase, the thrill of success and then getting to tick them off on a nice neat list. You wouldn't think that I had a strong organisational streak, but I do - and it comes out for my crazes in the form of meticulous databases and neatly ordered videos.

I've realised this as a result of collecting the new Battles in Time cards: the Ultimate Monsters series. Much like the microuniverse figures, where I knew I was being ripped off but did it anyway. Only Battles in Time cards are far cheaper (£1.50 for 9, instead of £9.99 for 7), and there are several thousand of them as opposed to only 32 figures. Plus, as they're in collections, if I get to a point where I've just got my 8th Draconian card, I can move onto the Invader, Devastator, Annahilator or Exterminator series instead and have a fresh start. It's a quick and easy pick-me-up for the end of bad days, and unlike the micro-figs, take up far less room.

It's actually rather embarassing, actually. I picked up the starter mag, which came with four packs of 9, on the basis of someone on the web mentioning there was a Sutekh card. Now, Sutekh is pretty much my all time favourite Doctor Who villain - threeway tie between him, the Master and the Valeyard. My instant reaction was "OMG I want a shiny Sutekh card!", calmly noting that as it was marked as "Super Rare", it would be a great excuse to collect the series.

After flicking through the magazine I established a couple of cards I'd aim to find. These were Sutekh, the Master, Sharaz Jek and Omega, because they're all cool. Incidentally, there isn't a Valeyard card, else that would have been top of the list.

So with that said, J--- and I took it in turns to open the packets and see what was inside.

Well the first card I got was Sutekh.

In the second pack, I got Sharaz Jek. The third pack was really rather lousy. And in the fourth pack, I got the Master.

Is the universe trying to tell me I should be spending my cash more constructively?


You can view my collection on http://www.battlesintime.com/collection.php, by typing Unmutual into "view friend's collection" and then clicking on Ultimate Monsters

Finally (honestly, this time), I have just got a new copy of Dorian. It is purple, and one of the most unpleasant things I've ever seen. It does feel quite nice to read, however - and I got it from a second hand bookshop which I have been pestering for several weeks now.