I am a 5’ 11’’, white, American, 21 year old women. Needless to say I stuck out by physical formalities alone. Add in my lack of a religion, political beliefs, education, sexual orientation, or socioeconomic status and I might as well been wearing a sign that said “Hi, I’m an anomaly”. However, being so very different from the norm brought about many interesting conversations. The greater parts of these conversations were about the inequalities between men and women and how the culture of Morocco reproduces this inequality.

The thing I stumbled over the most during all of these conversations was people’s mentality. The majority of people I encountered had an extremely inflexible mentality. This, to me, was frightening. How do you hope for progress and change if the mind is closed and locked?

This is frightening because where are you supposed to start if you want to change the mind of someone about something that is so engraved into the culture. This is likely to be more difficult than changing the law. I can’t say why, but it seems to be more taxing. How do you change a mentality? The law can be changed. New laws are created all the time. However, mentality is rigid. If someone is raised believing one thing, the force to change their mind must be stronger than what they believed in originally. Especially if as a collective you aren’t taught to think critically about other religions and other ways of life. How do you change someone’s opinion when the opinion came from their father, which came from their grandfather?

During a chat I had with a friend from work there was one point when my friend was blatantly like equality is not possible. It’s simply not possible. This crushed me.

Another friend of mine noticed this and after a few minutes started talking about something she’s realized as she’s gotten older (She’s 41). She’s come to understand that you can’t let everything touch and affect you like that. That you have to just let some opinions roll off you and you can’t fight everything. You have to choose your battles. She said “when I was young I would have taken offense to something such as ‘inequality doesn’t exist and furthermore isn’t possible’, but with age I’ve realized that you can’t let everything get to you.” This crushed me even more.

It’s possible I’m still too young to understand her opinion, but I don’t ever want to give up fighting. I want my opinions to be strong enough to fight for until the end of my days. Every battle is a battle worth fighting. I want to be energetic about my beliefs forever. Maybe it is exhausting, but the alternative seems worse.

Alexis Roehrich

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Having promised to write an article for this site back in the C20th, Ammar Farishta sent me an email yesterday, which read, “Write an article for YourTwoCents- this douchbagary must end.” I chuckled. But it wasn’t immense slothfulness (© Salim Kassam) that was the problem as much as that of an absolute dearth of inspiration on my part.

What to write about? I was not exactly flowing lavishly with high-blown ideas that captured the contemporary debate or found a niche in the intellectual battleground. For much of the summer I could think only of football, what with England’s dizzyingly (though not unexpectedly) dire performance in South Africa, and, of course, looking forward to another apocalyptic season of being an Arsenal fan; the forlorn guilt of holidaying whilst anxiously waiting for exam results; and politics (though the coalition is about as interesting as stale bread).

So now, as I sit down on this dull and dreary September afternoon, with rain peppering my living room window (inevitable) and Two And A Half Men on in the background, I address my problem. Inspiration.

Inspiration is, apparently, “an agency, such as a person or work of art, that moves the intellect or emotions or prompts action or invention.” ‘Give me a muse and I’ll paint you the moon’, kinda thing. The Greeks had muses and they were pretty groovy.

Any writer knows that creative spark that gives birth to a stream of brazen literary brilliance. This writer, too, knows the feeling of morose intellectual stimulation, a brain freeze, a writer’s block.

I’ve heard the myths of artists that shoot themselves up to channel their groove and those musicians who find of their next jam at church or in a graveyard.

Whether it is wrong to revert to more ‘artificial’ means for inspiration, as per said recreational artists, is a debate for another time, but what does concern me is a lack of imaginative direction amongst this generation, epitomised by yours truly. That romantic pastime of looking at the stars with curiosity and wonder – and then expressing it – is a dying one.

I asked many about a personality they found inspiring. Gandhi, the Prophet Muhammad and Barack Obama were the predictable (and uninspired?) responses. “But have they moved you to change something about the way you live?” “No.”

I don’t deny that perhaps watching Super-Obama attempt to deal with a resolute Congress and sour economy weeks before Midterms is not the most rousing effort to behold, but I question the traditional understanding of ‘inspiration’. These role models are praiseworthy, loved and endeared to millions, but perhaps the best motivation finds its source from within.

And if that’s hard to understand, it’s even harder to find.

The accusation touted these days is that kids aren’t taught ‘how to think’. Calculus in your head, for sure, granted. But what do you think about JS Mill? Your raison d’être? Which Miliband? (though the latter is perhaps best solved by flipping a coin to end more douchbagary).

I am lambasting the ignorant opinionless. What disturbs me the most about my current predicament is my lack of an opinion. On anything. My apathy stretches too far, my brain has been enmeshed in its stinking core for too long. I am not inspired because I do not want inspiration. I am content in my stagnation.

They called Hollywood ‘uninspired’ because of a wave of remakes a couple of years ago. What is so undeniably unappealing about this is the repetition. Creativity, on the other hand, bred by inspiration, is nouveau, it’s chic, is attractive. But when repetition fosters box office success and ticket sales with too many zeroes to count on one hand, what impetus is there to crawl out of an ugly mire?

I had no motivation to be inspired. I thought that poring over Kafka and Cicero was but academic poppycock. My routine of PlayStation, DVDs and TV was bliss for the ignorant.

But nay, my first week of September resolution is to find incentive in trivia, to abandon Fifa 2011 for the less glitzy but considerably significant Nietzsche. Why? Because I need a muse. And I want to be groovy.

“Inspiration and genius – one and the same.” Victor Hugo

By Ali Gokal

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There is little argument that the UK has become far more secular over the past few decades. As a star pupil of A-level Sociology I know that Church attendance has fallen from 25% to little over 5% in the UK over the past 50 years and atheism or agnosticism is now the religious belief of around a third of the country and growing. But as Britain has become more secular, our society has become more liberal. Laws against ethnic, homophobic and gender discrimination have led to a fairer job market and a new Equality Act set to be introduced later this year aims, among other things, to improve rights among the disabled. Of course I am not suggesting that these changes have come about solely due to a decline in religion but when comparing the UK to countries where religious conservatism is fervent, trends can be identified.

In his documentary Peter Tatchell identified the Philippines as a country where religion (in this case Catholicism) has become a barrier to advancements being made in welfare and civil rights. A recent health initiative by the Philippine government to try and combat their HIV/aids problem by encouraging the use of condoms has been boycotted by devout Catholics who oppose contraceptives, with health ministers and supporters of the scheme in some cases being physically attacked. Is this proof that, in a country where 85% identify themselves as Catholic, the Pope actually holds as much power as the government itself? With Pope Benedict publicly condemning the use of contraception it is an inevitability that the governments of countries such as the Philippines, where Catholicism is the leading religion, are going to find it increasingly difficult to implement liberal social policies. This is not only a huge moral problem for Catholics in the Philippines (or anywhere) who have HIV or aids, but it will also have huge effects on the country’s economic progress too, with the population rising at an alarming rate and the healthcare system becoming overloaded with cases of HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases. For the poorest the consequences are the worst, with families growing to unsustainable levels and so the creation of a downwards spiral – more children, more mouths to feed, more money needed. The Pope has a unique opportunity to influence the Philippines and other developing countries across Asia and South America positively, yet his continued resistance to liberal policies is a growing problem for governments across the globe trying to tackle HIV and promote equality.

It is not just Catholicism though where the influence of conservative religious beliefs proves to be a barrier to social progression and it would be difficult to write an article about religious conservatism without referencing Iran, and the influence of Islamic fundamentalism on social policy. Only this month a woman in Iran due to be stoned to death for adultery was given an additional 99 lashes for The Times purportedly publishing a photo of her not wearing a head scarf, only for it to be discovered that the photo was in fact of an Iranian political activist living in Sweden. This is not a lone case and death by stoning for women in Iran is common, overseen by a government who justify such policies with religious texts and a president who has described the holocaust as ’’a myth’’. However, it is of course vital not to brand these kind of policies purely as ’Islamic’ and this kind of governance can only be described as ’radical’ – countries such as Morocco, where Islam is the leading religion, have liberal and democratic societies with a stable government (in stark contrast to Iran, almost a quarter of Morocco’s central government are women.) But in the same way that Catholicism is a conservative branch of Christianity, governance such as that in Iran clearly shows roots in a conservative branch of Islam who almost completely disregard rights for women and homosexuals.

It is not my intention to make this article sound like an attack on religion and the positive influence religion has on societies all around the world cannot be undermined. But it is sobering to see how the words of one man in Rome can have such an effect on millions of people around the world. The Pope has a responsibility like no other and with many Catholics starting to question their beliefs following the child abuse scandal and the church’s continued conservative stance, he has come under great pressure from many prominent Catholic leaders to modernise the church and revive its appeal to new generations. Secularisation may not be intrinsically linked with the rise of liberal social policy in the UK, but it seems to me that in certain cases, religion does still prove to be a barrier to it. Despite endless scandal, public condemning of equality laws and an aide who has this week referred to the UK as a ’third world country’ due to it’s ’aggressive atheism’, the Pope will undoubtedly still receive a warm welcome on his arrival. It begs the question, why?

by William Pett

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Then things changed. Life took its toll. And in a matter of a second I lost you.

Truth is, we were young and immature… I thought we were perfect and invincible.

Cultural, Sectarian and Race boundaries didn’t extend to us. We were different.

We could break free. But life isn’t that easy. There was wisdom in the scriptures that told us to make known our commitments.

But this you couldn’t see Because all we are taught by this Godless place is to have fun and Satisfy any indulgence that you have.

And in the end it took you away from me. And instead of making your vows to me You made it to society.

By Aya Xan

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give me wings of gold Let me save this world of never-ending cold So I can shake the hands of all my enemies

And with these hands shape a new world of peace Let me shine in the wicked night so dark To watch over the weeping orphan’s heart

Let me still the mind’s of innocent condemned So I can assure them their suffering will soon end

Let me bring back Tupac and Christopher Wallace

And those we have lost in vain, please promise To guide all those we have loved and have lost To ease in our hearts this bitter biting frost

Let me heal the wounds of the broken nations

Dear Lord, let me find salvation.

By Varun Anand

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Smiles ensue followed by sorrow,

Emotions, motions dictated by the watch,

Stop.  Now watch.  Contentment locked,

Tick tock of the watchmaker as happiness is blocked.

As a clock contains time with no sensitivity,

Pretty ugly girls with Einstein’s theory of relativity,

1600 years. 7 minutes, 8 months, 6 days.

The definition of ignorance modified in different ways.

Apparently, Money is time.  Time is money.

Likened to a bumble bee for whom time is honey.

A chunk of human kind buzzing away,

Chasing status till the judge gives the day.

Evolution summed up by Darwin on the pound sterling,

But still hopeful that God can save the gracious queen?

Moments of prosperity, happiness, desire.

Sadness, death, guilt.

The internal design in which the human mind was built.

Memories in which war and peace tilt.

The Natural order of the world as some flowers blossom whilst some wilt.

By Mohammed Zain Dada

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The winds which blows far and wide, in every nook and crany are for you.  The trees dancing in glistening moonlight are for you.

The way the birds chirp, waiting the arrival of the new born sun is for you. The beautiful grass swaying from side to side are for you.

The waves in the sea , parting and returning to the everlasting shore are for you. The lonely bird, which roams the sky, travelling where ever the wind takes it, symbolising the true spirit of freedom in one very action is for you.

All the love in my hear is for you. The light at the end of the tunnel is for you.

The pinnacle of attainble justice of the human people is for you. The freedon of speech is for you.

The hope of one nation is for you. The cry of a baby, calling out for its mother is for you.

The silent echo of a voice in despiration is for you. The threat of terrorism, which strikes fear into the heart’s of millions, which can do little but stop, watch and wait is for you.

The dreams of innocent people who have been crushed by warefare is for you. The carnage the world has released upon itself is for you.

Death is for you. Everything is for you.

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Voiceless are the voices as bodies covered with blood.

 Bitter are the hearts no way to run.

Gory are the wounds as festered by grudge.

 Prison inside a prison in a prison the air is not to breathe, wall around a wall under a wall the bottomless is so close to reach the sunrays burn.

The black rain tears the city of young dreams nothing is like it seems nothing is real but real.

By Lina

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My name is Sami Ahmed, I am a 19 year old University student and the daughter of author Saira Ahmed from London. Twenty years ago a serious violation of my mother’s human rights had occurred in Bangladesh, and I would like for the government of the time to recognize this and issue an official apology, in accordance to their commitment to the Universal Bill of Human Rights.

When my mother was 13 or 14 years old her child marriage was arranged in Bangladesh to Muzibur ‘Nunu’ Rehman; a British-Bangladeshi man in his mid-20s. She was taken out of education against her will, and brought to England with this man and subjected to abuse and violence on every level imaginable. Soon after my mother fell pregnant with me and Social Services told her the day I was born, that he was a paedophile and a manic depressive. That day she decided to break free from him, and spent months in refuges and government given housing with me.

We are now in a much better place in our lives, but neither of us have been able to return to Bangladesh, since her ex-husband’s brother, Shafikur “Farsu” Rehman was the Bangladesh Nationalist Party’s secretary in her town of Hobigonj when she lived there, and still has strong, corrupt, political connections and has threatened to kidnap me from my mother. This threat was since the day I was born, and continues until today. My maternal grandfather has since passed away, and we have not been to his grave, nor have I ever seen my maternal grandmother; I am her first grandchild. My mother has never exercised her right, under British law, to family support, nor under Muslim law has she demanded ‘Den Mohor’; the right to property assigned during the wedding.

It is important for an individual to know their rights. It is my mother’s innate human right to be given an apology from the Bangladesh government on two accounts: firstly, they had failed to protect her as a child and her ex-husband’s brother, Shafikul Islam, as BNP secretary, had lied about his brother’s true condition without legal charges ever being pressed against him.

I have researched below the articles from the Universal Bill of Human Rights that I believe the Bangladesh government had violated:

Article 1: “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.” My mother suffered humiliation in the undignified selling of herself in marriage.

Article 5: “No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.” The nature of my mother’s child marriage to a paedophile was cruel, inhuman and degrading.

Article 13, part II: “Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and return to his own country.” My mother has been unable to return to Bangladesh, from a crippling fear of her child, me, being taken away from her.

Article 16, part II: “Marriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses.” My mother’s marriage was arranged and forced upon her. Her ‘consent’ was the result of pressure and oppression; a definition that does not coincide with Bangladesh’s committment to the Bill of Rights.

And finally, Article 8 states “Everyone has the right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or by law.”

Despite the government having failed to provide an ‘effective remedy’, my mother has taken steps of her own: she has published her autobiography ‘Breaking Free’ and rights have been secured to develop this into a feature film.

We only have one world, reconciliation and responsibility ought to play a part of that world. My mother has reconciled her relationship with her family as much as can be expected. However, the Bangladesh government have failed the United Nations and my mother. She was kept prisoner in Bangladesh and only truely did she break free when I was born, and with the support of Social Services in England. It is time for the Bangladesh government to do the same.

Thank you,

http://www.gopetition.co.uk/petitions/justice-for-saira.html

By Sami Ahmed

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YOU STUPID MORONIC IDIOTS KNOWN AS JOURNALISTS, STOP DISTRACTING ME WITIH YOUR CELBRITY NONSENSE!

It wouldn’t be the first time that the press has caused anger, whether it be through the paparazzi, political scandals, or just good old fashioned swearing on live television, we can always count on the fact that live news feeds will somehow or someway tick somebody somewhere off.

Now one of the biggest things that has shocked the world into crying/anger fits is the death of the King of Pop, Michael Jackson.
there were those who cried over the loss of this musical genius, then there were those who angrily punched the nearest object, because they just realised that they had spent £500 on eBay for a single concert tickets and will most likely not get there money back, because the man who sold it to them, happened to be a “business man” from Lagos, Nigeria.

So let me tell you my thought process during the first day of all of this:
1) Oh how Sad
2) The music industry has taken a big hit today
3) Oh well, time to get back to work.

It took about a day for me to get over MJ’s early demise. maybe my exams forced me to man up, and get on with my life, or maybe I’m secretly a cold heartless fiend who couldn’t give a damn about the world…. I like to think it was my exams that got me through this because I did make a Facebook group dedicated to him, and I’m really not that evil.

Now the unfortunate fact about Michael Jackson is that whatever he does or wherever he goes, the paparazzi/press will not be far behind. To be fair, in this particular case they did us a service by informing the world of this horrible incident. Though in other cases, they can be rather annoying. For example:

I don’t give a damn that MJ might have slept in an Oxygen tank
I don’t give a damn about where he stayed during his trips to London
I don’t give a damn that he chose to hid his children’s faces when they were younger (although I do have to say that if you were as famous as he was, you wouldn’t want anyone knowing what your children looked like, just to spare them the torture caused by these pit-bull we call journalists).

By this point, you’re probably wondering what all of this has anything to do with my exams… well let me tell you.

Normally each morning, while making my way to the library, I like to pick up the newspaper. Now in this case, it was pretty obvious what was going to be in there. What I was expecting was a page or two about what had happened to Michael. But what I got was 8 pages of literature on the history of the King of Pop, from his days with the Jackson five all the way to his O2 concert dates, and finally his Death.

I quickly became bored, and started revising. The next day, more scandals were reported about where he is going to be laid to rest, and something else about his Will. Now don’t get me wrong, I can understand the need to keep people informed. But the more these nitwits write about MJ’s life and death, the more people seem to call me and distract me from my much needed revision time.

It hasn’t only happened in this case. Every single frigging time that some celebrity does something that is determined news worthy, I get a call or a text or an email telling me about it!

Since when did wardrobe malfunctions become news? Why the hell would anyone care about the weight of some Pop diva? What happened to real news, about real politics, have-a-go heroes, and lost children? It as though all anyone seems to cares about these days is to do with celebrities/wannabe celebrities, and what they do with they’re free time!!!

There is a word for you people who report this type of news. Unfortunately, it’s too rude to put into this article

Real news is slowly becoming obsolete, and it will be a very sad day when the top story at 10:00pm news, is that Britney spears has become pregnant, after a 5 day marriage which ended in divorce, due to lack of communication.

So to conclude my rant against the people who have forgotten how to report issues that actually matters. You are Imbeciles and you don’t deserve your jobs.

“A petty reason perhaps why novelists more and more try to keep a distance from journalists is that novelists are trying to write the truth and journalists are trying to write fiction.” – Graham Greene

By Saahil Chatoo

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