Debating Education Reforms

With the news that Michael Gove plans to scrap the current GCSE system and return to a two-tier O level-esque form for examination, I feel that work does need to be done on our education, but not necessarily in these kinds of traditional forms.

About a week ago my attention as drawn back to an encounter I had with a number of well spoken, intelligent young men on the topic of sunburn. The whole palaver definitely taught me a lot about myself and my own debating skills, and showed that they were clearly superior to me.

Something I'm constantly coming in contact with is poor debating and argumentative skills, and this is something grossly skimmed over in our education system.

And this isn't me just being flippant again, I actually think debating is the best way to learn. It's changed a number of my viewpoints and by developing ideas as a group, everyone benefits. I see no reason why it should be so ignored in modern day schools.

Of course, debating improves as the number of debaters increases. Creating large groups of debaters can lead to great pools of knowledge that benefit all involved. These mass debates would allow people to discover new ways of thinking for themselves.

Most importantly, to kick start this kind of movement, a name is needed. As these debates would be doing so on a massive scale, the only sensible label to be attributed to them would be 'mass debates'. Of course, meaning the the participants would be 'mass debaters'.

Now, who would oppose my suggestion that schools would be improved by this breed of mass debaters, keen on interacting with one another and leading each other forward in their own self-discovery? You'd be a fool to do so.

Anyway, the reason for this post is shoe-horning in the following conversation, so take a few minutes to read it. It's genuinely hilarious.

I suppose I should blur out names... Nah, I have neither the time nor patience to do that

Transit of Venus

As our unfairly labelled 'evil twin' passed between Earth and the Sun last night I slept in and clouds blanketed the south east.

I was keen to see the celestial event, but my confidence in BBC weather reports held me back from setting alarms and I'm pleased I did.

Something that this morning's photos of the event have really driven home for me is the three dimensions of our sky. It can become all too easy to see a dome moving around above us, each spot of light a relatively small point of interest.

But, of course, we are lost in an ocean of stars, planets and miscellaneous lumps of rock and ice hurtling through space.

It's easy to forget that the small dot that traversed the disc of the sun this last night and this morning is of comparable size to the Earth and is a world swathed in a thick atmosphere, concealing hoards of volcanoes an uninhabitable heat and pressures.

To my great displeasure I saw that Jonathan Cainer had been chiming in in the Mail's coverage of this story. Telling readers that this visible movement of Venus is benign (thank Christ, because I was expecting it to mean that new love was on the horizon, or new opportunities would present themselves to me and the rest of the world in unison), in a way that almost presented his astrological nonsense alongside the centuries-old science that has studied this phenomenon and used it for logical, scientific, useful progress.

Here are some of the best photos that I've found online...

The dismissible size of this speck reminds me of a favourite quote of mine from Carl Sagan, eloquent and awe inspiring as ever...

We are forgettable and insignificant in the universe. What a privilege it is, therefore, to exist.

Make the most of it, but don't ever think you have some divine right over all that exists, you are mere star dust that was drawn together by gravity. An infinitely humbling fact that never fails to excite me.

The Undeniable Miscommunication of Beauty

A few weeks ago I began an art installation. But not any old art installation. This installation - as I insist it be referred to as an installation - lives.

The Undeniable Miscommunication of Beauty lives, breathes, and it ruins my mother's lettuces.

Today I found another addition so I thought it about time to let you, internet, know all about it.

Here are a few photos of the installations and the meanings behind them...

As this creature shrewdly observes the soil before it, it teaches us that our own actions need not be conscious. We must move and think freely to truly honour ourselves. From whence comes vanity, comes evil.

This stark image clearly tells us about the dangers of high life. As we strive for constant improvement, we find ourselves out of our depth; lost in the clouds and devoid of our roots. Here I placed a flower at the base of the picture to signify the beauty of the past, and the longing for nostalgia.

This angle of the installation was one that caused the most controversy. Some loved the disorientating way that the mollusk loomed over them, but others questioned my motives. I must use this outlet to describe my true intentions: I was desperate to discuss poverty in these pieces, here I spent many weeks honing the construction to address this difficult issue. The looming figure was designed to reflect the insecurities of third world countries in the recent light of first world issues, the backlighting especially - I felt - drove home these points and really helped me to deal with them in my own mind.

A similar angle to a previous piece, but this one significantly different in many ways. Grasp of my subject here was a more optimistic one; by elevating the optimism and opening the left hand backdrop - clearly pointing to left wing liberalism - I hoped to create a hope and desire within visitors.

One of my favourites here; The Lost Limbs of Beauty Once Held really manages to communicate the nostalgia for the present that each of us holds. In our processed and sullied lives, we oft forget the beauty of a day's work and ignore the pleasures of the soul. I set this piece directly into the ground to communicate its grounding with reality and every day life.

Another piece using a mollusc subject here. I felt a true affinity with their ability to act on instinct, I longed to move as purely as them, but I cannot. I spent many weeks reeling in their glory, attempting to escape my complicated mind and into the thoughts of such a beautiful creature. Alas, a bag of bones I remain...

This photo was a time in which the installation properly came to life for me. Within moments of seeing this, I was throw back to childhood; told off for playing on the sofa with my shoes on. The bold movements of my subject spoke directly to my soul and left my speechless. It actually took a few days to recover from this image. I have emerged a stronger man, though.

 

This close up is a snippet of a larger piece I entitled What Is Beauty Within Utiliarianism?, similar to Lost Limbs in many ways, but drastically different in meaning and impact. I really felt that here the strongest areas of impact were colour and texture; by casting away my inhibitions I was able to mould this wonderfully original, and unquestionably moving, product from what was mere dust.

Here we have the conclusion of the installation. Not only in a different time, but in a different space. My work cannot be confined to spaces or timezones. Here one notices a plethora of different images swirling around the central point of another mollusc. Hanging onto a line.

A lifeline. A nylon line. The two become synonymous. Our relationship with materialism has gone too far, we rely on trinkets and objects that hold no worth. We strain along our lines, trying to find new ground to discover, new things to buy and new people to dispose of. We grow distant and forget the true meaning of life; we leave friends behind and search for that new car, a bigger house. Let go of the line, fall into the abyss. The darkness will save you from yourself.