It is cited that in the past ten years at least sixty, an probably a far greater number of prostitutes have been murdered on the streets of Britain. Nearly all British Prostitutes have also at some time been involved in a violent attack be it with bare hands, a knife, a gun or some other instrument. With affairs the way they are it seems ludicrous that we persist in outlawing this profession.
Personally I do not feel the need to cheapen myself by paying for sex, but one must not be so naïve as to think that everyone else is willing to be so high and mighty. The sad fact is that there will always be “supply and demand” in what is called by many “the oldest profession in the world”.
It is also grossly naïve to think that it might be eradicated by more stringent laws, this will just drive prostitutes and their clients further underground, into more dangerous parts of towns and cities in order to avoid detection. With many working girls having been forced into their profession by drug addiction, and the need to feed that addiction they are charging as little as £25 for the full, and degrading use of their bodies.
Is it not time perhaps that we recognised that this trade can never be stopped, and that instead of endangering these women further by driving them underground we should protect them? It is for that reason that I call on you to support the call for the legalisation and safe regulation of this profession. Make brothels clean and safe and free of the STI’s that these poor women risk, give them security of somewhere they can be sure to be paid for their services, and not simply attacked for requesting the payment they have earned.
Tuesday 9 December 2008
God Save Us!
The Royal Family which has ruled us for so many centuries under the eyes of God, and other such pomposities are becoming so clichéd that to me it is a wonder they are still uttered, along with “for Queen and country” and other such drivel. How can we still live in this appalling state of inequality and still describe ourselves as a democracy? Admittedly we have a better record on human rights than many countries, but we are still far from a true democracy.
The concept of a Monarch is now such an out dated idea, which oppresses the masses and shatters aspirations. It is, after all the highest office in the land and where the highest office in the land is hereditary and bound up in instructions such as not being allowed to marry someone of a certain religious group how can we call ourselves equal?
The hereditary nature also becomes racist if examined from another angle. Unlike that “shining beacon of democracy” America, we cannot expect a black figure-head, or indeed a figurehead from any other ethnic minority. It is a sorry state of affairs indeed, when the evil empire is able to call themselves more egalitarian than ourselves.
The final blanket of wool that must be ripped from our eyes is the claim that the Royal Family largely supports itself, it does not. The group Republic (dedicated to inspiring national debate on the future of the monarchy) estimates an astronomical figure that the royals cost us in reality. Many royalists like to claim that the Queen supports herself and makes charitable donations through funding from her estates, but as the comedian Robert Newman says “Who’s land? Our land taken from us by theft deceit and by clever use of hedges”.
Maybe the time is soon approaching when the people can recognise and cast out this antiquated regime for the oppressive parasites that they are.
The concept of a Monarch is now such an out dated idea, which oppresses the masses and shatters aspirations. It is, after all the highest office in the land and where the highest office in the land is hereditary and bound up in instructions such as not being allowed to marry someone of a certain religious group how can we call ourselves equal?
The hereditary nature also becomes racist if examined from another angle. Unlike that “shining beacon of democracy” America, we cannot expect a black figure-head, or indeed a figurehead from any other ethnic minority. It is a sorry state of affairs indeed, when the evil empire is able to call themselves more egalitarian than ourselves.
The final blanket of wool that must be ripped from our eyes is the claim that the Royal Family largely supports itself, it does not. The group Republic (dedicated to inspiring national debate on the future of the monarchy) estimates an astronomical figure that the royals cost us in reality. Many royalists like to claim that the Queen supports herself and makes charitable donations through funding from her estates, but as the comedian Robert Newman says “Who’s land? Our land taken from us by theft deceit and by clever use of hedges”.
Maybe the time is soon approaching when the people can recognise and cast out this antiquated regime for the oppressive parasites that they are.
Monday 27 October 2008
Home Time
Having chosen to pop back to my hometown during reading week at university seems to have been an awful decision, made with far too much haste. In this trip it's nice of course to see old friends, familiar enemies, and even people I feel neutrally apathetic about. However, I find myself constantly suffering from what Douglas Addams describes as "The long dark tea time of the soul".
I experience a great listlessness at being around the oh so horribly familiar haunts of my hometown. It leads me inexorably to the conclusion that at some point in my life I've been unfortunate enough to have been bitten by the travel bug.
I am in fact able to pin it down very firmly to two occasions that turned me into this awful restless spirit, constantly discontent with familiarity. The first of these being my first visit to Australia, aged 17, being on a backpacking tour and feeling a great sense of dread at the thought of leaving my new found paradise (as the bus we were crammed in rushed me city-wards).
The second occasion was again on a backpacking tour in Australia, where I looked out of the minibus window (this time aged 20) and felt a new sensation. This new sensation is almost that of nostalgia for the unknown, and is best described as a dull tingly ache of anticipation which enters every bone of the body and prepares one for the full excitement of new things in store.
Anyhow, this depressive state has at least given me a hint that I'm on a well suited career path as Journalism is a job which has many avenues and possibilities to explore. All that remains to say is that I look forward immensely to my return to Cheltenham where there is still unfamiliar ground for me to explore, and new interesting people to be talked to.
I experience a great listlessness at being around the oh so horribly familiar haunts of my hometown. It leads me inexorably to the conclusion that at some point in my life I've been unfortunate enough to have been bitten by the travel bug.
I am in fact able to pin it down very firmly to two occasions that turned me into this awful restless spirit, constantly discontent with familiarity. The first of these being my first visit to Australia, aged 17, being on a backpacking tour and feeling a great sense of dread at the thought of leaving my new found paradise (as the bus we were crammed in rushed me city-wards).
The second occasion was again on a backpacking tour in Australia, where I looked out of the minibus window (this time aged 20) and felt a new sensation. This new sensation is almost that of nostalgia for the unknown, and is best described as a dull tingly ache of anticipation which enters every bone of the body and prepares one for the full excitement of new things in store.
Anyhow, this depressive state has at least given me a hint that I'm on a well suited career path as Journalism is a job which has many avenues and possibilities to explore. All that remains to say is that I look forward immensely to my return to Cheltenham where there is still unfamiliar ground for me to explore, and new interesting people to be talked to.
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