It's an 'end of the rainbow' sort of deal

• Comment on this entry saying Rhubarb!, and I'll pick three things from your profile interests or tags.
• Write about the words/phrases I picked in your journal and make this same offer. Sharing is caring.

I commented on cosmolinguist's entry and they picked the following from my interest list;
These selections have tickled me no end and I'm especially grateful for the book recommendation which came with the first pick. Let's dive in (a phrase which I've been using all year in my lectures for some reason, odd how you end up hooked on a particular phrase sometimes...)

Alphabetising the world:
I love order. There's little else that gives me such mundane, immediate satisifaction. Back in the days when I worked in my office and could actually print materials off to read instead of having to spend all day and night looking at a screen, I generated a lot of paper that needed filing. The afternoons when nothing was going right and I looked around and realised my office looked like a paper factory had exploded, I would stop and file everything. I have immaculate folders full of essential articles, sub divided by theme or teaching module. My CDs and DVDs (possibly the only person still buying those formats and I have zero regret about that) are beautifully alphabetised. Indeed, one thing I'm especially looking forward to if my house purchase comes off (building surveyor goes in next week, fingers crossed nothing significant is falling down...) is being able to reunite my entire CD collection and have the whole sodding thing ordered.

This is in some ways, something which is symptomatic of my anxiety-spiral-OCD-tendencies. Because it probably shouldn't make me feel quite as squicky to have things out of order - or as I think of it "in chaos". But the key thing is, being able to put things in order - specifically alphabetical order - is something which is immediately calming, and something I can offer to other people without much discussion about how it might be helpful to tidy, because it's so comprehensible. If everything got ordered like this (when there is not otherwise a suitable or better system of organisation) the world would be beautifully ordered and then there would be more space for creativity and joy and spontaneity.

Overcoming decadence and nihilism:
This one makes me laugh. It's on the list because years ago, when I was a terrible English Literature undergraduate, and an enormous Manics fan (this one still true, it's just morphed slightly) I would spend hours in one of the college common rooms, smoking cigarettes and talking nonsense about philosophy with a friend. We definitely fancied ourselves as the next great thinkers. I shudder to imagine time travelling to overhear that conversation. At some point I realised that the nihilism I had interpreted to mean that, without meaning, there was also no value to life fuelled a kind of miserable decadence in what I imbibed. Curiously, there's something typically backwards about how I came to link these ideas given Nietzsche looks to nihilism as the response to decadence but perhaps I'm not so terribly out of sync in that those things produce each other. A few years living like there's no tomorrow and drinking like you don't need a liver, oddly (not oddly), produces a self fulfilling prophecy of nothingness.

Somewhere along the line, my grasp of nihilism shifted. I moved away from anomic despair to a more principled embrace of the impossibility of meaning and subjectivity of knowledge which doesn't require me to reject the fundamental underpinings of those big philosopical thoughts, but does point me towards the essential need to continue to operate within the conditions of nothingness, and ultimately, to direct my study toward epistemological positions which are founded on the impossibility of knowledge but the richness of what can be understood by looking at the stiving for meaning - towards deconstructionism, really.

Queer Theory - practice and content: 
Queer theory was a revelation to me. And now I get to introduce students to it as well and for some of them it will be a revelation too and I can't think of a better gift. 

I encountered queer theory towards the end of my final year as an undergrad - barely half a week of content, I think. But it was enough to give me a way to understand there was a world of theory there to do something really - to me - radical. I picked my Masters course on the basis it was the only course in the country built around queer theory and had my mind delightfully bent (pun very much intended) for 9 months and wrote the best piece of academic writing I had produced to date for my dissertation.

Queer theory prompts us to ask why the things that get called normal have ever got to that position. It directs us to the value of knowledge, practice and existence which is not just outside of normal, but which also pressures normal. How does normal try and shore itself up against the destabilising force of the queer other? In what ways does queerness exist? It thinks of queer not as something which is 'gay' in a binary with 'straight', but as something which explodes binaries and exists across, between, against, within, and everywhere. 

This kind of conceptualisation allows us to explore every part of culture and society. To queer - to turn on its side, inside out, to make something new but familiar and different. And in the process, discover something new about the things which feel ordinary or natural.

There are problems with queer theory. My PhD thesis was about confronting, and attempting to explode the implications of the anti-social thesis in queer theory. The anti-social thesis is set of theorising and work which stabilises definitions of queer in ways which start to label people as "queer" or "not queer enough" according to a set of classifications established primarily by people working in an archive of cis gay male activism and theory. It's problematic on a number of levels, but for me one of the most significant failures is that it produces value judgements on people's lives which begin in abstract theorisations but do not acknowledge either the material realities of people's lives and choices, or the material impact such pronouncements have on queer people's lives and relationships with the self which are then possible.

Self, politics, theory and lived experience cannot be disentangled. Queer theory - broadly - acknowledges this and works at what it means when we both acknowledge this and draw on what we can learn and do from these integrated positions. Queer theory also, beautifully, refuses the possibility of an integrated position. Within queer theory we are always becoming, always in process, and always positioned through and in relation to others.

This key idea provides a direction for both researching and producing knowledge; all knowledge is partial, all subjects of research are incomplete and inconsistent. What we can work at picking up and identifying, are the webs of power which structure experience, knowledge, choice, action, and relationships. And that is also what we can feed back; what happens at those junctures between normal and other? How do boundaries move? How are binaries constructed? What does it mean to live against and across instead of with and in line? 

1. What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?
It's sunny, breezy, bit of cloud, really fresh clean air. There is a lot more traffic about now so my flat is much less quiet than it has been the past few weeks when I have the doors and windows open. I miss the silence and the birds. I'm glad of the clear freshness.

2. What’s for breakfast? Lunch? Dinner?
I keep forgetting to eat meals in recognisable intervals since lockdown. Partly it's the disruption to my regular schedule, partly I guess I rely on the rhythms of other people and that's disappeared. Today for breakfast I had marmalade on toast. For lunch I had a wrap with some of last night's stir fried veg, cheese and quorn ham. Who knows what's for tea, or indeed when it will be.

3. What are things you can’t go without?
The only thing I really struggle to go without is a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. Every day. Without fail. Possessions wise, everything is a bit up for grabs. The last three months of not being able to indulge my terrible shopping habit which I can afford but don't like as a sort of unnecessary consumption thing, has been good for reassuring myself I can do with less and have a less significant attachment to objects than I feared. So the anser is 'not much'.

4. How did your parents choose your name?
My parents picked my name because they'd, at some point not that long before I was born, traced our family tree by going to parish churches and going through their records. They discovered a long history of [name]. So they picked it for me. I have tried to imagine some sort of connection to a long line of [name]s and wonder if they would be delighted to imagine our lineage. Given women lose their names through marriage I do feel carrying a name is some valuing of the invisible lives of those women.

But I often joke (ish) that I'm a changeling, I have so little in common with my family. I think that's part of why my name doesn't feel like my name - it's forcing me to fit a family I don't quite belong to. It's like a lock rather than an anchor. It wasn't a name picked for me, it was impressed upon me. 

5. If you could travel back in time, where and when would you go?
I find this utterly impossible to answer because I can only imagine the hardships or difficulties of different times. If I could be gifted with a rosetta stone/TARDIS translation/babelfish then I would love to visit the Library of Alexandria and spend a day hanging out with those lads. Or rather more mundane, to be at the 1973 Hammersmith Odeon Ziggy show....and then about 10 other Bowie shows. Including his appearance at the 1969 Beckenham Arts Festival, because that song is just so beautiful.

How old are you?
34. I feel much older than that recently.

Tattoos?
4. Keep saying I'll get number 5 but can't quite picture it on my body and the one occasion I had a tattoo when I felt like that I didn't like it long term and had a cover up (so technically I suppose I already have 5 tattoos, but one of them is on top of the other) so I need to wait and let it keep evolving in my head.

Ever hit a deer?
Nope. Quite a few around where I grew up but closest I've ever come was when I was a passenger, one came out of the hedge, ran alongside the car, and then went back into hedgerow - an uncharacteristically sensible response to it's surprise there was a car where it was about to run.

Taken a few pheasants out in my time. And saw a badger for the first and only time in my life a split second before it disappeared beneath the wheels of the car my friend was driving (we both screamed, completely unavoidable). I once narrowly missed a stoat. That was an exciting sighting. I don't think I've ever hit a bunny but they don't half like running at the wheels of the car when you get level with them.

Ridden in an ambulance?
Nope.

Sang karaoke?
Many, many times. I still prefer karaoke rooms to pub karaoke, not least of all because it's fun no matter who is singing because you know them - rather than slogging it through the ropey regulars.

Ice skated?
Yep. Growing up in Nottingham it was a pretty standard Saturday afternoon activity because of National Ice Centre/Torville and Dean cultural consciousness. I haven't done it in years but previously I've still had enough muscle memory to pull it together when I've had a long gap.

Ridden a motorcycle?
Pillion a couple of times. Never driven one.

Stayed in hospital?
Not overnight. Had a bed and so on for the day surgery on my shoulder back in 2015.

Skipped school?
Good god yes. I think I must have skipped more classes than I went to by the time I was in Sixth Form, but really from 15/16 onwards skipping school was a standar part of the week. How else were we to get stoned?

Last phone call?
Some call from health insurance company because I'd tried to find out if I was insurable to access therapy but it turns out its not like travel insurance and you can't just get a quote online, and as soon as you put your phone number in on screen one they get it. So I had this pointless chat whilst on the train where I didn't want to say "I probably can't afford it, and it's too embarrassing to find that out when speaking to a human". That was Monday, I think.

Last text from?
Ocado telling me my driver was in the raspberry van.

Watched someone die?
No, thank goodness.

Pepsi or Coke?
Coke. Full fat.

Favourite pie?
I'm not really into pie. At all.

I suppose [veggie] Shepherd's Pie? But it's not really a pie, save for in name.

Favourite pizza?
Margarita with white closed cup mushrooms on - none of this fancy mushroom noise, just your 69p shiz.

Favourite season?
I used to say autumn because I like the colours and those crisp days but more and more I find winter an emotionally trying slog and so spring is increasingly representing not just a welcome respite from the cold, but also a return of more even mood.

Broken bones?
I think I broke my toe a few years ago but nothing that's required actual medical attention.

Received a ticket?
I am glad other people have answered this so I can extrapolate what this means from their answers; no. I have never received a parking or speeding ticket or any other kind of automated ticket. I was convinced I'd gone through about 5 cameras on the M25 at 80mph a few years ago (one stretch of road, so only one incidence of being over the speed limit really) but mercifully they were either set to issue tickets at a higher speed, or my speedometer was far enough out that I wasn't over 74mph.

Favorite colour?
Currently I want everything green.

Sunset or sunrise?
Sunset. They are more consistently beautiful - and I see them more often. On the coast though both are a real treat

Questions from thefridayfive 

1. Do you have the urge to do a Fall/Spring cleaning as soon as the weather turns?
Yes! I live in a studio flat so can always see my bed, so I take the sheets as an element of decoration within the flat. One of the thing I do in Autumn/Spring* is put the summer/winter* sheets away and get out the summer/winter* sheets out. When I do this, I take the opportunity to clean the inside of the windows, clean under the sofa and drawers, generally get everything as fresh as possible. 

[*delete as appropriate. Spring/summer sheets are light and soft in colour, autumn/winter sheets are rich and deep in colour]

2.What tells you that the season (a certain smell, a certain taste, that sort of thing) has changed?
Petrichor at the beginning of autumn is always that "things are changing" moment. In Brighton the seasons are well defined; there is a different quality of light in Autumn and Spring. The wind starts to get up towards the end of September and you get these huge gusts coming off the sea, through bright crisp days. In Spring its when the birds start singing that I know Winter has been defeated once again, and that cautious sort of light you get in the afternoons as the day starts lengthening. We only get the truly spectacular sunsets at the change of seasons, that's always another clue - when the sky goes on fire and the streets are filled with people grinding to a halt through their commute and photographing it.

3.What do you look forward to the most with the change of seasons?
A sense of new opportunity? I always feel the change of seasons is a reminder of the cycle of nature and I look to wildlife to remind myself of the relative simplicity of life. I can choose to be seperate from it, or I can choose to see myself as just another animal. I take comfort and pleasure in changing my routines according to the change of season. 

4. What is something that you probably should accomplish but won’t this season?
I need to get ahead on my writing my book while my Autumn teaching load is light but I suspect, based on my inability to organise myself into a good working routine these last few weeks, that it's just not going to happen. I feel quite stressed about that. Autumn term is always the hardest because of the dark nights and the arrangement of marking, so I really struggle to pull myself into better routines at this time of year - which is frustrating because academic years require you to get it together in September.

5. What is the most enjoyable part of the oncoming season for you?
Stomping and crunching through fallen leaves (I always go out of my way to walk through piles of leaves). The smell of Autumn mornings when it's going to be dry and bright. Having my face be cool (not cold) and my body cosy in my autumn coat. Seeing squirrels cashing food. Robins being seemingly everywhere. The storms coming in over the sea.

From thefridayfive 

1. After your first language, what language would you most like to learn? (Say first language too)
My first language is English. I would like to be close to flluent in Spanish. I got to a very good level of comprehension when I was in South America ten+ years ago and could rattle by quite happily. Although I retain a feel for the language, I found Spain almost entirely impossible to navigate when I was there last year - although the added complication of Catalonian didn't help - and I am sad to have lost so much.

2. Does your country have a second language? What is it?
Just English. Although Welsh is an official language of Wales so we'll call that one.

3. How many languages can you count to 5 in? To 10 in? List them.
English (ahar), Spanish, German, French. I used to be able to count to 50 in Danish, after spending just 10 days there. I find numbers reassuringly regular and easy to pick up.

4. What is the first overseas country you visited? And from where? (ie/ timbuctoo to mars)
I think it must have been France on a school trip when I was 12. I, and all my classmates, hated every minute. It wasn't a good introduction to France, rather confirmed all the typical negative stereotypes most British schoolchildren grow up with.  Second trip there on another school trip in year 9/aged 14 which also included a lot of time in Belgium was considerably more positive.

5. What country do you most want to visit? And why?
I want to visit Russia but feel conflicted and unwelcome given their anti-LGBT laws so I think that's at the bottom of the list of pretty much every country I haven't been to yet - all of which I really want to visit. Each trip is just checking another one off rather than going "finally! I get to go to [x]" because there's nothing better than travel