A Retail Rant

There are certain complete lies in the world of retail.

This 'customer is always right' stuff has to be our first port of call. How can this possibly be a truism? Not even me, the great and modest English Student gets everything right one hundred percent of the time. In fact, this statement is almost never true and often equates to downright disgusting behaviour. If the customer is always right, then they have no need whatsoever to show respect to others. Anyone working in retail becomes an obstacle to what a customer wants and as such, can be treated like the scum that floats up from the river of our capital city.

So what's the solution? Companies try to emphasise this basic tenet of retail and customers are determined to believe it. Perhaps if they understood that people working in retail are no different from themselves they may be more inclined to give respect. So I propose that everyone that would like to buy something from a retail outlet must work in a retail outlet also. Each member of the public would earn points based on the hours they do in retail and this can be exchanged for hours they spend as a customer. Not only would this force people to see the other side of the coin that they so readily ignore, it would result in truly idiotic shopping focused psychopaths like Paris Hilton working eighty hour shifts in the local newsagents!

Ok, perhaps it is best to take a few steps back from the precipice I have charged at here. I do not hate my job (temporary that it is) and I do not hate the public. In fact at times I absolutely adore my job. It is quite amazing when you can really make someone's day by helping them and the people that I work with are absolutely brilliant. So for all the abuse and hatred that get's hurled my way at various times in the day I certainly consider myself very lucky to have a job and miraculously lucky to have a job that I can mostly enjoy.

But at any rate, I will certainly be more inclined to respect others that work in retail.

-The English Student

City Conspiracy

In my spare moments in the city I have found myself becoming a bit of an amateur detective.

Two separate people have drawn my attention. Throughout the masses of the capital city, the bustle of every day life and the fast pace of the metropolis two people are recurring characters in my daily routine. The first is a somewhat elderly woman. My curiosity about her was aroused when I saw her trendy runners that were completely at odds with the rest of her austere clothes. She wears a dark coat and trousers and is invariably at my bus stop at 20:54, every day. I actually stumbled into her in a café at about 20:00 earlier in the week and subtly observed her from the other side of the room. An elderly man that she knew by name visited her and gave her newspapers, to which she said "I don't rely on anybody".

The second person I have seen less frequently. He is fairly heavy set and wears a dark jacket and jeans. His untamed hair and somewhat vacant stare draws the eye. He gets on my bus at various times in the evening and sits on the top floor of the bus in the second row from the front. One stop before his, he bows his head forward in a crouch while sitting and all of a sudden springs upright and marches straight off the bus. If I had to guess his mantra, it would be "I don't perceive anybody".

What has made me to make these bizarre observations? Am I simply deranged? Do I get some kind of sick pleasure from observing people? I would naturally be inclined to defend myself on these fronts and in any case I feel that there is something more systemic going on. The Panopticon society that we live in truly has begun to infect us all. We're Baudelaire's detective, as we walk the city streets not making any personal connection with people and thus, inventing one.

We observe all and are observed by all.

-The English Student

The Death of J.D. Salinger

As we all know, over the week the great American author, J.D. Salinger died at the age of ninety-one.

Being able to identify him as 'great' could seem problematic when the volume of his work is taken into consideration. We all know him as the writer that penned Catcher in the Rye. Many of us read this book while growing up and identified with the troubled, conflicting emotions of the main character Holden Caufield. But this was not simply a teen angst novel. Salinger perfectly caught the glimmer of teenage rebellion and placed it within the overall scheme of a life. While the struggle of Caufield was one of a hormonal teenager, it was treated as an important stage in his life. Salinger made the trivial important and in doing so, added importance to our own trivial lives.

Along with Catcher in the Rye, Salinger wrote a relatively small number of short stories. This is the total sum of his published works and has been a talking point for many critics over the past few decades. Salinger essentially disappeared off the literary map and went into hiding for decades. Some saw this as a confirmation of their opinion that Salinger had a limited vision for his literature, while others felt that he was doing a disservice to the literary community by isolating his talent.

Without really knowing the man I would still like to posit an alternative theory. Some critics have made the claim that Salinger felt that remaining in the public eye would compromise his work. While I do believe that he could have published many more fantastic works regardless of this pressure, this defense of artistic vision does ring true in relation to Catcher in the Rye. Holden constantly berates the 'phonies' that do not follow up on their promises and are only out to please themselves. This novel made every reader as important as the next and also as important as the writer. By becoming a recluse in this way, Salinger confirmed his own artistic vision in Catcher and made the book a more meaningful identification of ordinary heroics.

J.D. Salinger sacrificed his potential fame and fortune to imbue his work with more poignancy and this certainly allows us to call him 'great'.

-The English Student

Haitian Leverage

The first question countless people ask when observing external disaster: how can this benefit me?

While politicians may not admit to such callous emotions it almost certainly will cross their minds at some point. The Haitian disaster that has claimed the lives of at least 200,000 has inevitable been hi-jacked by such self-serving people. For governments and politicians there seems to be two main strategies of self-interest.

For smaller nations the strategy is one of self-promotion. For many reasons it is in the best interest of these governments to give generously to the people of Haiti. Doing so highlights the humanitarian spirit of the country and raises their international profile. If a country can boast a high ratio of donated money per citizen they will garden acclaim from all over the world. Larger 'world powers' face a different sort of playing field. Countries like the U.S. and the U.K. have frequently made claims to lead the world through decency and compassion. If they fail to live up to these expectations in this crisis then their entire ethos will be undermined. These powers need to act in order to preserve themselves. Obama does not want another Katrina.

So should we decry this hollow form of 'charity'? Indeed, does it even count as charity if the giver gains from it? I am tempted to take the line that our idealogical basis of charity is flawed and as such should be addressed, This would negatively affect the short term aid policy while hopefully creating a more generous and compassionate world in the long term. But the state of events in Haiti simply does not allow me to comfortably make this claim.

These people need aid and for once, the end might actually justify the means.

-The English Student

Inglourious Basterds: Film Review

Resistance is an interesting film theme and an interesting element in all film reviews.

This choice of a film review may seem quite strange at first. For one thing, the film has been out of cinemas for a long time and has recently gone to DVD. All actual film critics have long gotten their praise and detractions in before mine. When you couple this with the insulting spelling of the title, an English Student like myself would naturally be resistant to choosing to write about Inglourious Basterds.

This resistance is quite a good summary of my overall impression of the film. On one hand, Tarantino's latest film seems to care very little about how it is received. The film is an incredibly unusual combination of old west, 60s and ultra modern styles. Any film fan would find the performances of Brad Pitt and Christoph Waltz both chilling and brilliant at the same time. However, purists of any of the many styles and war film fanatics would balk at the many ridiculous plot lines and situations that this film presents. When watching you're not sure if you should be laughing at the bizarre situation or disgusted at the brutality that it overlays. Gaining a footing with the film is almost impossible.

That is exactly why resistance is the theme of this review. If you simply must place labels on a work of art in order to understand and appreciate it then you often miss the point of the whole exercise. This is Tarantino's war film and if a viewer is expecting anything else then they will certainly be disappointed. But when the natural resistance to this Frankenstein's monster of a film is overcome it becomes a wonderful, heartfelt, harrowing and hilarious piece of art. If Inglourious Basterds teaches us anything (and it will not be morals that it teaches!) it is that we must let artists do what they will and praise them for it.

The world of the film critic should release a bit of tension and enjoy masterpieces like Inglourious Basterds.

-The English Student

Forging Out a Pre-Forged Path

Once again a bus journey has lead me to some introverted thinking.

Rain was streaming down the window in front of me. Pellets of moisture ran from the top right corner to the bottom left as the bus careered through the seasonal storm. As a new droplet hit the window it invariably coursed through a path made by a previous droplet. As I was making my way to work while considering the options of my future, this scene took on a very different meaning for me.

The window pane became a metaphor for life choices. As the rain courses down the window and is funnelled into certain paths, so to are the courses of our own lives. There are specific routes that we will all take that are pre-determined before we even begin life. While at times we can arc off and take a slightly different path, we will end up back at a travelled road before long. It was long in the making that I would take this bus journey and see this pattern on the window.

This post is not intended to rant against the lack of control many of us feel in our life's and rather to point out how ill-equipped we are to deal with it. Many of my friends have really began to struggle with these patterns. When we start in school we are on the first path of life. We go through the motions and follow on to secondary school. We do not make any real life decisions until we consider what to do next. Even then the main life decisions can be deferred if desired. We always desire to defer this decision. So when we face the real world we are lost and do not even have the equipment or practice to make decisions. I do not rant against a lack of control, I rant against a lack of ability to make the most of the limited control we are offered.

So we course down the window, not knowing where we are going and yet knowing that it has already been determined.

-The English Student

Meta-Retrospectivity

The two main things that we have been exposed to in the last week are as follows; decade long retrospectives and snow.

Just about every single point of publication, whether online or off has been devoted to summing up the last ten years. Analysis of events deemed to be world shifting is coupled with offbeat references to our supposed past naivety. We now know better about the economic fragility of the world, what clothes look good and what politics is defunct. However, I reject the idea that we have actually changed as a species. While the form of our existence may have changed, at the core we are the same.

While we are being bombarded with these retrospectives we are also beset by the previously mentioned snow. When we see this pure and untouched frozen canvas we are compelled to leave some kind of mark. It does not matter what form it takes; a footprint, a message, a drawing. We just have to make an impression and are scornful to those that have made one before us. Inevitably, the snow will melt and along with it, our mark fades away. That is, until the next snow fall comes and we find ourselves faced with another clean, white slate.

Our species understands the transience of life and existence. We know that any mark that we make individually or as a group will be carried away with the passing of our lives. This pointlessness of what we deem 'achievement' is almost impossible to face and so we fight hard to resist it. For a moment, we celebrate and commiserate a decade so that we can move on to the next. These retrospectives allow us to feel a sense of control over time while allowing us to become subjects to its power over us. Even if these sensations are illusory, they are necessary.

So let us take full advantage of this current reflective period, for it will melt away very shortly.

-Then English Student