Youth: The Nightmare Relived.

Good day,

Well, I must first say that I feel rather aggrieved, and would like to publicly apologize to Codename V.
I have no intentions of 'ripping off ' his blog, in the same way that I have no interests in competing with it or trying to overthrow it.
Codename V is simply the inspiration for this, and is not in any other way affiliated.
If you have not read his work, I reccomend that you do, as it rings out with truth and wisdom.
You can find him here: http://www.guyfawkesismyhero.blogspot.com .
Again, V, I apologize.

Now, onto today's issue.

Today I would like to write about the youth of our generation, and the general decay and destruction they have brought with them.
I know that Codename V has already spoken of children playing violent video games and the such, but that is not what I intend to address.
What I intend to address is the social and aesthetic stance of the youth.

For instance, have you never walked down the street and seen teenage boys will poorly-dyed black hair smeared across their faces? Or with a certain section of hair kept firmly in place with hairspray, with the sole purpose of blocking the person's vision in one eye?
Have you not seen a teenager in a full Reebok training suit strolling about town, or a teenager in studded leather boots and clothes that look like something from an underground BDSM pornography?

The fact is that children these days are becoming very diverse, only perhaps a little too diverse for their own good.

Let us first look at the people who refer to themselves as 'Scene'.
Now, Scene Kids, as I believe them to be called, come in a variety of shapes and sizes, yet all seem to look oddly similar.
Scene fashion seems to stem from wearing brightly coloured clothing, with immensely over-sized plastic jewellry, a strange affinity for anything with Hello Kitty printed upon it, and generally large hair.
This, of course, coming from someone who has only scratched the surface of Scene Culture.
Now, I cannot ascertain as to why they dress themselves in this manner, but I could hazard a guess that it is to stand out, to be unique.
Now, let me point out the irony of an entire group dressing in the same way in order to stand out as individuals.
See, if one person decides to walk around in a bright green tuxedo then they truly stand out, if only on a visual level.
But when you see a street of children or teenagers parading about in shirts that look they've been torn, and with their hair so overblown and massive that it looks like it could best Godzilla in combat, the idea of being unique seems to be suitably diluted.
Now, show me a 'Scene Kid' wearing a baseball league outfit and I'll consider them to be unique.
Also, we can what seems to have become the 'Scene Kid' motto, that ever-famous line "I'm just being me".
Now, if we are to believe a large percentage of the MySpace users, apparently most of the world are the exact same person.
It is understandable to wish to be unique, if we are to believe the Bible then we can see that God intended all of us to be special and unique. However, that cup of tea doesn't suit everyone.
However, if somebody wishes to be unique then perhaps it's time to find a new method?

On a social level, 'Scene' Kids seem to be generally nice people.
They do, of course, communicate between each other in crude and often unintelligable phrases such as "I'm going to the libRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRy", and often addressing each other as 'Cunt'. We can assume that this is yet another way to show how unique and special they are. Although I can't say most average people will respect them for flinging curses and insults about quite as openly as they do.

Next we have what are fondly known as 'Chavs'. Now, Chavs, from my understanding, are 'Council House AVerages'. I take from this that Chavs are generally middle class, and live in Council Estates. However, a general rule always has exceptions.
Now, a majority of Chavs seem to dress in the same manner, much like Scene Kids, but with an entirely different uniform.
Chavs tend to favour the comfort and freedom that a track-suit provides, and so many will be seen sporting grey sweatshirts and sweatpants with some mainstream sports-company logo emblazoned upon their chests, be it Reebok, Nike or Adidas.
Chav's also seem to have a uniform haircut, by which a majority of the females grow out their hair, the scoop it all back and tie it off, and the males simply slap a bowl on their heads and get a shave.
Let it also be noted that many of the males will purchase gold or silver jewellry, (often fake), in an attempt to perhaps cover up their middle-class roots.

Chavs seem to have developed a powerful ability to rape the English language of all beauty and dignity. They manage to decay the word 'Mate' into 'm8', the phrase 'What is going on' to 'Wa'g'wan' and what I understand to be a phrase 'Avin' a chew', which apparently means that some difficult task is in process, and is posing as an obstacle.
Personally, I cannot abide their speech, and have find the most effective way of saving myself from strangling them is to simply ignore them.
This, however, doesn't always work.

Now, Chavs are noted as generally being the 'criminal bunch', as they are often seen lurking in dark alleyways, smoking behind bins or drinking in secluded places.
And they do, honestly, strike a rather fearsome stance.
And in their obvious efforts to further this, they have a tendency to go and get arrested, be it for Grievous Bodily Harm or for urinating in public. Either way, a criminal record seems to be a must-have for many Chavs now-a-days.

Goths also seem to have become more prominent over recent years.
I cannot remember how many 'Fashion-Goths' I have seen, but you can easily spot one by their midnight-black hair, an abundance of Make-up, and a generally dark atmosphere surrounding them.
These goths are generally misunderstood as being Satan-worshipping cultist degenerates, and while some are, a majority are actually very normal people.

Goths appear to wear a uniform of black, often composed of either fish-net tops, belted skirts or very tight jeans, with make-up plastering their face and a certain amount of metal, be it dog-tags, rings, piercings or metal studs, that seem to balance the outfit into a state of social segregation.
The reasoning, as I am told by several friends and sources, is so that they might show how 'black' they are inside, not in a racial manner, but an emotional and psychological style.

The final clique I wish to address are the Emos. Emos are almost always mistaken for Goths, and Scene Kids are almost always mistaken to be Emo, so it is mildly understandable as to why Emos are generally a pretty depressing group.

Emos take disadvantageous hairstyling to a whole new level, and somehow manage to blind themselves in one eye, sometimes in both, and still get around just fine.
They often wear tight black outfits, such as 'Skinny jeans' and band-based T-Shirts.
They are also known to wear certain amounts of make-up, although from my own encounters this seems to be limited to eye make-up, both on the male and female population.

Emos are known world-wide for what is referred to as 'Slashing', 'Cutting' or as I have also seen it '/Wrist'.
Emos are understood to come from generally troubled backgrounds, often we are told that their parents abused them in some way, or they're being picked on at school, or something equally as troubling and eternally scarring.
Now, being harmed is renouned for releasing select chemicals into the body, mainly Endorphins, which counter pain and give a generally warm and happy feeling after a certain time. Can you see where this is going?
Correct, Emos cut themselves to release these chemicals, so that they might drown out their own 'pain' and 'suffering'.
Personally, I can say that I'm disgusted by it, but my opinion is of no real consequence to their actions.

Emos, much like Scene Kids, seem to want to just be themselves, and have followed suit by adopting a dark, almost goth-like uniform of black clothing, minus the leather and the metal.
On an almost humorous note, I, myself, have seen several Emos with razor-blade necklaces. One can only assume that this is a back-up plan, just in case they need to have a 'slash' on the move. I could, however, be very wrong.
However, Emos also have a horribly annoying way of become the victim of almost every situation, by quickly stating that 'Nobody understands them'.
I think people have actually given up, and it's not too difficult to see why.

Now, let me make a final note that when you combine these groups in a confined area, for instance, a high school, you often get extremely large conflicts.
In some schools their are select days, where people 'Flog an Emo', their are days where you 'Slap A Goth' or 'Kick a 'Cunt', 'Cunt Kicking' is derived from the Scene Kid tendency to refer to each other as 'Cunt', so we can assume that the act of 'Cunt Kicking' is actually kicking a Scene Kid.
Overall, we can safely say that these factions do not get on very well at all.
And this seems, to me, to be a microcosm of society now.
After all, you can't go into a super-market without meeting a racist, you can't move for mysoginists and sexists, feminists are rife and almost everyone seems to have fallen into some select group, often without even knowing it.

And much of this can be rooted to our ancestry.
But that, however, is a boringly long blog entry for another day.

And so I leave you now, with the gained knowledge of the youth of today, and hope you will put it to good use!

Thankyou for your time and patience,

-Akira.

Criminal Conduct:

Ah, England. Or Britain as we know it now.
A country of freedom, of democracy and of social diversity.
A country where a man can be free to do as he pleases, and his imagination is hindered only by the laws of the land.
This is Britain, the land of Promise.

Or so we're lead to believe.

I, myself, left 'Great' Britain 6 years ago, and do not regret it for a fraction of a second.
I fooled myself into believing that the country would repair itself, and that the place would be much more stable and welcoming when I returned.
I was, however, very wrong.

Britain is now, in a word, Hell.
The country has decayed over the years, and has now reached an all time low, by most standards.
We, the great British Empire, have become nothing more than a refugee camp, and a finger-puppet of the United States of America.

Now, my distaste of Britain is evident, but let me address today's issue more directly. I wish to set your sights upon a topic in the news recently, which tells of the knife-attacks of four men in London and surrounding areas.
Now, knife-attacks seem extreme on their own, although they are likely to be expected in a large urban city. However, what truly irks is the scope of these crimes, the time-line, as it were.
The first stabbing occured at 0400hours in Tottenham, followed by more stabbings at 1430hours, 1730hours and 2020hours.
These stabbings all occured in one day.

Now, muse upon this: Are we to expect this to happen every day?

Britain has become a host for parasites, a shelter for scum and a home for the worthless vermin that our world deemed fit to even exist.
I can say one thing simply, it isn't good enough.

The rest of the world is practically laughing at Britain now.
After all, what does Britain do for the world nowadays?
As far as we know, all Britain is doing is pumping young men into a war that still isn't being won, and pumping money into it at the same time.
Can Britain really afford this?

If Britain really wants to make a difference, surely training these men and women to police the country would be far more effective than shipping them off to the Middle East, where they will most likely sit in a tent and pray to whichever God they worship that they get home safely, and where they will possibly be bombed, shot at and attacked by hostile forces.

Here's a quick thought for you: 'Since when was Iraq part of the UK?'
-Since when was this Britain's war anyway?

No, Britain has seen fit to tell it's citizens that everything is under control, that these stabbings in London are being investigated thoroughly and that the criminals involved will be brought to justice. Is this really good enough?
Why should people have to live in fear that they're going to be stabbed to death in an alleyway for wearing a certain football shirt, or for being from a certain country, or for listening to a certain type of music?
Since when did it become acceptable to let people live in terror?
Isn't that what Britain and America are doing in Iraq?
Isn't Britain freeing the oppressed masses from the icy vice-grips of Terror?
What about Britain's own, then?
What about the people who see their sons and daughters, their brothers and sisters, their mothers and fathers, being sent off to fight?
Do they not deserve freedom from Terror?

The fact is that four stabbings means something, it means that Britain has reached the very bottom, and that 'bringing criminals to justice' is simply not enough. The solution is to re-establish a country where crime isn't a neccessity, where people don't have to rob an off-license just to feed their family, where a child doesn't have to stab his classmate because his parents are always arguing or because the other children are always picking on him.

Britain needs to sort itself out, because it cannot and will not survive in this condition.

Think about that, dear reader.
Think about what a once great country has been reduced to, and think about how it must feel to have a loved one killed, or to walk out onto the street each day with the fear that you may never make it back to your house.

Perhaps I'm over-reacting, but surely somebody can see that there really is something wrong with all of this.

I shall leave you now,

Thankyou for your time and interest,

Akira.

An Introduction:

Salut! By standing, a simple speaker of sentences, cast strangely as both spokesman and sight by the sagacity and stoicism of sequential successes. This stance, no simple slap-up of shiftlessness and sluggishness, is the shape of the speech of men, now silent and subdued. However, this seditious show of senior sorrow stands shocked, and has sworn to shift these sneaking and slithering snakes stealing speech and safeguarding the subtle sacrilege of sociability. The only solution is salvation; a shunning of silence as a settlement, not in sadness, for the sight of success shines most stunningly. Suddenly, this surplus of speech seems most satiate, so let me simply add that it is my very good honor to be indulge you, and that you might call me Akira.