Bring me your nihilists, your anarchists and defeatists

Every morning on the Tube I see TFL's posters with inspirational quotes.  I have to give them points for effort -- I like the lengths they go to with culture on the tube, from displaying poetry in ad spaces, to these quotation posters that are extracts from a booklet of quotes for Piccadilly line staff share with passengers.

According to TFL's own press release the booklet "aims to generate a more positive atmosphere during peak times." It apparently also "encourages the many voices of the Tube’s staff to re-enter the environment of the network, bringing some of the personalities which have made it famous to the forefront once more. Coming from a wide range of philosophical, political and historical sources, the quotes provoke thought on life in the city, especially as heard on the London Underground."

My trouble with them though is that they are so safe, and uninteresting.  Gandhi.  Nelson Mandela.  Great men, but who can really argue with them?  Although I did actually meet a man recently who thought Gandhi was bad, but that's not really the point.

I appreciate that the quotes are meant to be uplifting, inspiring even, and optimistic -- but wouldn't it be more interesting if they could prompt some discussion?  Maybe they want to stay away from provoking debate when people are tired and packed into crowded trains that are frequently dirty and often subject to delays and mechanical failures.  Would you really want an argument breaking out in a stifling hot tube carriage when there is nowhere to escape?

At the bottom of the posters is a web site address where you can submit quotes.  I amuse myself thinking of inappropriate submissions of quotes from people like the radical Edward Abbey who offered thoughts that should be embroidered on cushions, like “Anarchism is founded on the observation that since few men are wise enough to rule themselves, even fewer are wise enough to rule others.” 

And who can forget the timeless wisdom of the great Hunter S. Thompson, the pioneer of "freak power"?  It is next to impossible to choose just one quote from the man who felt the same way about disco as he did about herpes, but my favourite is "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro".

The author Chuck Palahniuk is one of my favourites, and he denies that he is a nihilist -- instead saying he is a romantic.  Either way, as a former journalist and compulsive blogger, I find this thought fitting: "The best way to waste your life, ... is by taking notes. The easiest way to avoid living is to just watch. Look for the details. Report. Don't participate.”

Also making my fantasy list of submissions would be:
"If I were a medical man, I should prescribe a holiday to any patient who considered his work important" Bertrand Russell
"Work is the refuge of people who have nothing better to do" Oscar Wilde

Wouldn't these give you something more to think about on your way to work each day?  So, share with me your quotes.  Not your uplifting and inspiring mantras -- but the unconventional, nihilistic and anarchic that wryly amuse you.

I worry about what the future holds

It's hard to say what exactly I feel this week.

Monday I felt good. I was feeling optimistic and positive about the job interview, and I think the extra sleep from not having to get up for work made me happy. The interview itself...wasn't like I expected. To begin with: the writing test. Every writing test I have ever done followed a similar format of "here is your information, read it and then follow the instructions to write something". This test started with "Here's a pen and paper. Write something. Anything. Your time starts now". The HR chick then returned a few minutes later and decided that it really was unfair to ask me to handwrite something, so they would provide me with a computer. Still no guidelines as to what to write though. I have written professionally in a range of styles to a variety of audiences -- I have written news and features for local newspapers, I've written about sportswear for teen markets, pizzas and Italian food and even eye-health. For my own personal amusement, I've written poetry and fiction and there's this here blog thing -- but I don't really know what's going on there.

My point is, I expect some kind of guidance or material when asked to "write something". What am I supposed to write? Hello my name is Jay I am 26-and-three-quarters I like cats and listening to music and my favourite phrase in Spanish is 'mi casa es su casa'". I don't know. Instead, I wrote again about the "winter vomiting bug" because it was the only vaguely serious thing I could think of. My main aim was just to try and make it concise, readable and grammatically correct.

Then came the interview. A three-person panel interview, supervised by the chick from HR who would also chip in with her own questions from time to time. It has to be three people, since I'd technically be doing two different part-time jobs and working for two bosses -- they needed a third person because one is retiring and the other is taking his place.

There were the usual questions about prioritising work and whatever else, but I think the strangest question came from the old guy when he asked me "Do you believe in IT?". It felt like I was being asked if I believed in global warming, or in life on other planets. I was tempted to say, no, I don't think IT exists -- I believe it's just a conspiracy to sell more computers... Apparently it wasn't a philosophical question, but it was hard to see exactly what he meant. I just talked about the need for backups, hard copies and sometimes the need for an old fashioned pen and paper.

I'm worried that I won't get the job. I'm worried that last year's freelance adventures have soured me so much to potential employers that it's going to be difficult to get anything. The bookshop was great at the time, it showed me I could be well liked in an interview and get a job. But like everything else, it doesn't go permanent and I seem again like I can't hold a job.

I went into the bookshop the other day -- since I wanted to return my old locker key, and my bold red t-shirt that said to ask me for gift ideas. It felt strange. It felt like all the times when I used to go in as a customer and see the same members of staff, and there was again that staff/customer distance, but at the same time I knew these people. I showed Jon the "recommendations" I had written for books by Michael Winner and Kerry Katona. But it felt a little sad, to tell the truth.

I guess it's easy to feel disheartened at this time of year, it's grey, cold and wet outside. Tonight my brother is coming home because tomorrow we're attending my aunt's funeral, who died of cancer just before New Year. I mention it not because I want wishes of sympathy, but because it seems almost fitting.

In other news, I had my eyes tested today. Not because I felt I needed them tested (even though it had been three years since my last test) but because for my RAF application I needed an official form completed by my optician. I figure for the £30 they charge for a 20 minute eye test, the least they could do was fill out my form as well. Apparently they would normally charge £20 for the privilege, so maybe it was a wise move to try and combine the two. The official verdict is my eyesight has apparently improved slightly (ha! and they said I'd go blind if I didn't stop it) though if that's actually the case or if I was over-prescribed last time, I do not know. Other than that, though, I am -- amazingly -- so entirely normal it barely needs comment.

Monday I have to go along to Armed Forces recruitment office to attend a two-hour presentation -- note to self, dose up on caffeine first.

28

28 Weeks Later has to be one of the worst and most ill-conceived sequels to any film I've seen. The sequels to Bring It On and Cruel Intentions might have been both pointless and terrible films in their own right, but it's the strength and power of the original film that makes 28 Weeks such a let down.

28 Days Later was so much more than just a zombie film.

The film followed the aftermath from the outbreak of a destructive virus that infected the blood and within seconds turned the infected into a rage-filled 'zombie'. Unlike most zombie films, the infected weren't the dead returning to life -- and that's partly where the film took a more meaningful turn.

It's significant that the virus was referred to as 'rage', in that it was a metaphor for a wider condition. The film opens with shots of violence from around the world, riots, wars, protests -- and the shot pans out to a monkey strapped to a table, being forced to watch. When animal rights activists break in to rescue the chimps they are warned that the are infected. With what, they demand to know. The scientist tells them to treat something you must first understand it. And tells them the monkey is infected with "rage".

Jim -- a bicycle courier -- wakes up alone in a hospital four weeks after being hit by a car, his confusion and disorientation mirrors the audiences as we don't know what happened after a misguided activist was attacked by an infected monkey. When Jim is rescued by two survivors it's explained to him:

"It started as rioting. But right from the beginning you knew this was different. Because it was happening in small villages, market towns. And then it wasn't on the TV any more. It was in the street outside. It was coming in through your windows. It was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood. It was something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities it was already too late. Army blockades were overrun. And that's when the exodus started. Before the TV and radio stopped broadcasting there were reports of infection in Paris and New York. We didn't hear anything more after that."

The 'rage' virus can be seen as a metaphor for what is wrong with humanity -- what William Golding referred to as "the darkness of man's heart".

Alex Garland -- author of The Beach as well as 28 Days Later and Sunshine, among other notable works -- doesn't seem to have a very rosy outlook on humanity. The Beach starts almost idyllic, but not altogether unlike the events on Golding's own desert island, it seems flawed human nature spoils everything. The virus in 28 Days literally represents what's wrong with mankind -- it's something inherent, "in the blood". The only lines spoken by an infected person in film comes from a boy, found in an abandoned roadside cafe. It's significant that he growls the words "I hate you".

The film's unlikely survivors find an army base near Manchester -- and it's here that the dark heart of human nature is made clear. The soldiers are almost worse than the infected, perhaps showing what happens to humanity when civilisation breaks down.

Unfortunately, the subtlety and thought of the original is completely lost in the gratuitous sequel. 28 Weeks Later takes place, obviously, six months after the first film. The infected have now starved to death and England is quarantined, being marshalled by US troops.

Naturally, it all goes wrong and the infection starts up again -- a survivor is brought into quarantine who although she appears uninfected, is actually a "carrier" of the virus. The result is lots of blood and gore and death and not a whole lot else. There is no longer any exploration of what the virus "is", there's no ambiguity to it. There's no examination of the darkness of our heart, or human nature -- it's just a big budget horror flick that completely forgets everything that came before it.

Perhaps, as a film in its own right -- if you knew nothing of what had come before it, it would be passable. But to follow up something so haunting and thought-provoking, yet genuinely frightening with such... Hollywood garbage? It's almost heart breaking.