Posts archive for: February, 2006
  • I am the greatest!

    Is it so wrong to admit and claim ones greatness? The phrase in question, made famous/infamous by Mohammed Ali in the 1950s/1960s was not something the masses expected a negro would even have dreamed of thinking let along telling the world.

    Ali was of course the greatest heavyweight boxer of the world at that time, regardless to who believed he was out of his station.

    We Brits are often taught that modesty is the best policy and as a matter of class and good British manners we should let our achievements speak for themselves.

    Too often have I heard American artists proclaim that they are "on top of their game". The Grammy and Brit awards winning rapper, Kanye West, springs to mind as he is often quoted as being egotistical and arrogant for saying just this.

    Interestingly enough at the recent Brit awards, Chris Martin, of Coldplay kneeled down and declared to the world "It's hard for us sometimes because we are English and we do not like to admit that we think we are great, so tonight we would like to agree with you for giving us this award."

    Furthermore, he later went on to thank Kanye West, albeit for his gold ladies, but I think that maybe Martin has been influenced by West's mantra.

    In my own personal life, my partner and I are also reaping the benefits of admitting that we are great at what we do. Admitting ones greatness does everything for ones self esteem. it allows you to nurture your skills and aim for bigger and better things. Admittedly, one must be able to admit ones failings but focusing on them does not allow much room for inner success and happiness.

    So ask yourself how great are you?

  • title-593369

    Man reading the broadsheets on the tube in the morning what image does this conjure in your mind? Are the contents of these broadsheets any better than that in a tabloid? Since many broadsheets are now tabloid does that mean that the content has also downscaled? Does the content really matter or is it the size or name of the paper that matters? I was forced to answer those questions to myself as I sat in a coffee shop drinking a hot chocolate and reading the Sunday broadsheets.

    I picked up a particular Sunday supplement for women. A popular female singer songwriter featured on the front cover, not someone I particularly knew but as the front cover shouted that it was for women I thought that there maybe something of interest and maybe something educational, inspirational.

    I was initially confronted with an article about females writing about their one night stands which introduced a new genre of female written literature. Other articles included a story of a born again ex stripper who was now preaching to the Adult Industry; Argentina’s richest and most popular cosmetic surgeon, men wanting six-packs as women were no longer interested in what they have in their wallets and oh let’s not forget fashion.

    Included and in between these articles were photographs, pictures and images of women of all with flowing shiny long locks, excessively made up faces flaunting bodies that look like they have returned from a visit from the Argentinean doctor.

    I was reading the broadsheets wasn’t I? I checked the front of the magazine to be sure. As a middleclass British female the broadsheets are supposed to stimulate me intellectually, offer me food for thought, suggest another way of thinking that is to challenge my understanding of a topic and of the world, give me inspiration as a women to help me better myself, show me what my fellow females are doing paving the way for us to be just as successful in our right and way. Show us to be great role models for our daughters and nieces and hey, how we can look and feel good as well.

    This particular supplement did not do any of these things. It did not have anything within its pages that pertained to me? Was I not the writers and publishers target reader? As young women, lawyer, mother, long term partner, daughter and sister there was nothing in that magazine that was any relevance to me, my life, my ethics, my aspirations believes and there was no one in the whole magazine who even looked like me.

    Are broadsheets aware that intelligent women read their papers? Are they aware that we want to see women that look like the rest of us? Or does this mean that we intelligent women are also interested in these types of topics and images? Women are losing their voice. In this ?Heat/OK generation there is a great dictatorship that is robbing women of discovering who they are and being comfortable with themselves. We are being forced to believe that women regardless of their class, race, age or intelligence should aspire to be like the chosen few that even those in media aspire to be. We must all eat the same things, like the same things, read the same books, like the same type of men, have the same values, aim for the same life styles.

    There needs to be a shift in the world’s attitude to women and their interests and women need to demand more. Are interests span more than wanting to look like those in the videos, sitcoms and Hollywood movies, we are well rounded mothers, daughters, wives, sisters and aunties who have genuine interests, some of s have careers and we want to read about ourselves and our peers.

    I think next week I may just read a genuine Sunday tabloid, I may be pleasantly surprised.

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