Hello again, the blog has been a little, or a lot, inactive recently, so I thought I’d write something while I’m having a little break from assignments. Please don’t worry lecturers, I am well on course to do my work to my usual impeccable standards (lol).

The inspiration for this blog came when I was at Sainsbury’s yesterday. I know, you’re already enthralled, what could happen next?

Well, let me get on to that. I can’t tell you if you keep pressuring me like this.

Seriously, I’m trying to talk.

Thank you. Well, at Sainsbury’s yesterday a few things happened. I was innocently walking down the aisle when someone came rushing the other way. She was going very fast, far too fast for a supermarket. Far too fast. As she walked towards me I thought I wonder what’s in her basket…

… and then it hit me. The basket that is. Naturally, I said sorry.

What was I apologising for? Sorry my still, standing leg hit your recklessly swaying basket that was hurtling dangerously down the aisle, attached to your equally reckless body? I’m not sure I did too much wrong.

Now, I’ve been reliably informed that this is a very British thing to say, and that most of my fellow earthlings would do the correct thing in that situation and be upset with the person who’s basket my stationary leg so painfully hit. But we don’t here, we’re too polite. I don’t know why, that’s not the point of this post, to be honest I’m just after a few cheap laughs (please laugh).

About 15 minutes after basket-gate, another British politeness thing happened. I was at the till paying for my delicious and practical groceries, when the cashier said “that’s 13 pounds and 47 pence please”
“Thank you” I said, giving the money to the cashier, and again saying “thank you” as he took it off me.
“There’s a pound and 53 pence change” he said.
“Thank you” I said
“Thank you” he said
“Thank you” I said, and then left.

I think about one of those thank yous was justified, when I got my change. Other than that, we were just thanking each other for thanks sake (if you read that quickly it sounds rude hehe).

I don’t know why we do it, it’s not one of my areas of expertise, but unlike a lot of people I quite like it, why not be polite for no reason? It’s much better than being rude for no reason.

Thank you (there’s another) and good night.

It’s hard. That much I can tell you just by simply looking at the title. However, before I delve in too deep, maybe I should (and will) give you a brief rundown about how I immersed myself into music journalism.

Since the age of 11, I’ve had an incredibly deep love for the more “alternative” side of music. Bands such as My Chemical Romance – don’t laugh, everyone’s had their Emo phase, and I know you still know all the words to ‘Teenagers’ – and Slipknot gave birth to such a love, and I eagerly waded through the Internet to find more bands and artists that were just as visceral and brutal. Even now, I still embark upon finding the next band that I want to fall in love with.

As I grew up, my love for music deepened. Despite staring longingly at gig posters in Kerrang! and Rocksound, I didn’t actually get to experience my first gig until the age of 16; I went to see Cancer Bats at the Electric Ballroom in Camden, on Friday 29 October 2010 with a couple of friends, complete with other gig-goers dressed up in various forms of zombies – there was even a zombie bride in the mosh-pit!

It was in the same year that I finally jumped into the world of music journalism. As part of my English Language coursework, we were required to write two different styled-pieces and, for one of my pieces, I wrote a review on the then recently-released, self-titled album from Escape the Fate. My excellent English teacher, Elaine, suggested that I actually start my own music blog – she said that reading my review had impressed her greatly, and apparently wouldn’t look out of place in a music magazine!

With this in mind, I set up a small Tumblr blog, reviewing singles, EPs and full-length albums from all manner of bands. I wasn’t sure it was going that entirely well until two things happened that made me incredibly determined to carry on down this path:

1)    I reviewed Mallory Knox’s EP ‘Pilot’. After tweeting this link, their bassist, Sam Douglas, replied and said he really enjoyed reading it. I then saw them perform Upstairs at the Relentless Garage in Islington a few days after; he told me that my review was one of the best he’s ever read!

2)    A band called The Purple Shots tweeted me, asking if I would review their upcoming single, which I did. Upon reading the review, the guys offered me a guest-list spot (my first of many!) for one of their upcoming gigs in Camden, as a way of saying ‘thank you’.

After these events and with encouragement from Elaine, I set about e-mailing various different music websites, asking if they’d be so kind as to take me on as a contributor. The first two websites never got back to me but HevyPetal did; their editor was more than happy to take me on, and thus began a long and fruitful journey into music journalism.

Even now, as a student of the University of Brighton, I still write. Last year alone, I wrote for Bring the Noise, Stencil Mag, Highlight Magazine, Already Heard and New Junk – I was even Assistant Editor for New Junk! And, if you see me falling asleep in a lecture, I promise it’s not because I’ve been drinking the night before; I’m just shattered after travelling to London and back because I went to review another band, and didn’t actually get into bed until gone 1am. (Look, I need my sleep, okay?)

I have faced hardships whilst working in this gruelling world – it can be incredibly bitchy and there are days where I feel my writing is awful, causing me to question why I’m pursuing this path; whilst being Assistant Editor, I sometimes found it difficult to juggle university work, my job and being an editor.

But there are so many opportunities that I’ve experienced that I wouldn’t change for the world. In my first year, I was offered the incredible opportunity to intern at the Kerrang! offices in London for a week, giving me the chance to see how a weekly magazine is put together. On my first day, I got to interview five different bands, all of whom I’ve been to see at gigs and, later on in the week, I had my first ever phone interview with none other than Jeff Hardy, former TNA Wrestling Champion! Again, a massive thanks to Tim for being supportive about me missing a week of university to go gallivanting around London, listening to unreleased albums in Gibson Studios, watching the lead singer of Your Demise strip to only his boxers and a Christmas-themed apron, and cutting up More magazine’s Christmas tree so Architects’ Sam Carter could wear it for a photo-shoot. The whole week is still a huge ‘pinch me’ moment.

I’ve also been incredibly lucky to interview some humble and lovely people in the music industry; my personal favourite was interviewing Tyler ‘Telle’ Smith of The Word Alive at Slam Dunk last year. Since the age of 15, I’ve been a huge fan of The Word Alive and to sit down with their vocalist for ten minutes was incredible!

Anyway, seeing as I’m so nice (and for saying thanks after I’ve been rambling on), I’m going to try and attach a video of my first ever face-to-face interview! It was conducted outside London’s Nambucca venue on Holloway Road and was with Scottish quintet Autumn In Disguise: Autumn In Disguise Interview.

Anyway, if the video works, watch and laugh my friends. I’m off to pretend that I’m Patrick Stump and violently sing, ‘Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down’. (Sorry to my flatmates.)

Hello again, it’s me. I hope you’ve all had wonderful Christmases and didn’t eat too many foods or drink too many alcohols (I hope you did really).

Now, I know we’re in exam season (do we call it that?) and writing a blog might seem like a crazy idea, but last night I watched an episode of Ricky Gervais’s Derek (which I would highly recommend) and there was a quote which stuck with me and made me all warm and fuzzy inside.

I’d just like to say, Jelena, Tim, Sandra… I am doing work, promise.

Anywho: ‘“She said ‘Kindness is magic, Derek. It’s more important to be kind than clever or good looking.’ I’m not clever or good looking but I’m kind,” is the quote. It helps if I explain a bit about the character of Derek. Derek is a care home worker with an unknown learning difficulty who always sees the best in everything, the world, people, etc. and the person that told him that kindness is magic is a recently deceased care home resident.

Now, this got me thinking about language (naturally). I thought about how these strange noises we make can have such an impact on people. The above quote from Derek was heart warming and had me on the verge of tears (I don’t cry, pfft) because of it’s sincerity and innocence. It made me think about how I am. I like to think I’m a kind person, to me the best feelings in life are making people laugh or smile, and whenever I do something that makes people laugh/smile it makes me feel good, and making people laugh is what I want to do with my life.

My point, though, is that it’s the words that Derek spoke that made me think of all those things.

In life there are loads of situations in which words make us think of past experiences, good or bad, or the daunting, nerve-wracking but ever so exciting future. This can be in the simple form of spoken words, and quite often in things like songs or poetry. A lot of you will be able to think of words, phrases and songs that take you back to a certain memory or a certain place, maybe even a certain someone. A lot of you will also have words, phrases or songs that make you think of the future, love, marriage, career and all the other things that might come along. Even the words I’ve written there might scare you or excite you, I know they do me.

Words also make us think of ideas, concepts.

I suppose the best word to use to explain this is love. What is it? I’m sure I don’t know, I love football, I love my family, I love Daim bars. It seems love means a lot of things, you could probably break it down (I can’t be bothered right now).

I said I’m sure I don’t know what love is, but actually, I’m sure I do. I probably can’t tell you in words, but if I ever consider you worth it, I’ll probably show you (not in that way you dirty so and so). I try to show my friends and family what love is to me by what I do when I’m with them, and indeed when I’m not. I show football I love it by watching and playing it, and I show Daim bars I love them by eating them. There’s different ways of showing different kinds of love. I don’t think my family would approve of me eating them to show them I love them, and I don’t think Daim bars would appreciate being watched or played (I don’t know how you play them).

Again, I’ve gone on a bit of a mad one, but that’s because of what these silly words made me think of, and, as I said in the title, these words mean lots.

Cheers for reading you wonderful people, back to linguistics work I go!

I agree with Tim that the Guardian article said some stupid things about Chomsky. It’s a pity, because in the first half, Harry Ritchie says some excellent things about language and social class (‘Don’t improve your grammar’, Review, 4 January). When he turns to Chomsky, though, his ignorance is equalled only by his arrogance. Only someone who does not know the field could say that Chomsky has dominated linguistics since the late 1950’s. This is hogwash: Chomsky routinely refers to his sub-field as a minority interest. Here’s some evidence: while conferences about generative grammar attract tens of participants, many hundreds of academics flock to conferences about pragmatics or sociolinguistics, where Chomsky gets barely a mention.

More evidence of ignorance: Ritchie refers to ‘transformations’ and ‘deep structures’, apparently unaware that these concepts were abandoned by Chomsky decades ago and superseded by others.

On to the arrogance: Ritchie announces with supreme confidence that Chomsky’s claims about innate programming for language are ‘brilliant but wrong’: ‘recent research’ supposedly proves that ‘children learn language just as they learn all their other skills, by experience’. So according to Ritchie, universal untaught human visual abilities (such as recognising three-dimensional objects) are entirely based on experience, and have nothing to do with the genetically programmed structure of the eyes, the optic nerve, or the visual cortex. And learned skills such as riding a bicycle, which not all humans possess, apparently do not depend at all on an innate human ability to balance our bodies. What nonsense! The assertion that these abilities have no innate element is an absurd dogma, reminiscent of the medieval Church rather than serious discussion. The nature, scope and neurological structure of the innate element of language are matters for research and debate: its existence is not.

If you want to see why Tim (rightly) describes the article as ‘shoddy’, you can read it here:

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/dec/31/one-way-speak-english-standard-spoken-british-linguistics-chomsky

To see what Chomsky actually says, I recommend Chapter 4 of his book New Horizons in the Study of Language and Mind. You can read much of it in Google books:

http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=johr4hURMPgC&source=gbs_navlinks_s

On December 3^rd, the University of Brighton was closed for the whole day following continuous disagreements between lecturers and university employers. Staff and teachers took strike action to raise awareness and fight back against the 13% decrease of pay that had been occurring since 2009. Picket lines formed, a rally took place and lecturers, along with fellow supporters, marched through the town in hope that their terms regarding their contracts, fair pay and equality issues would be met. Their urges for students and public workers to support the action saw much success as the student’s union and many others joined the protest. However, there were still many students who were confused and annoyed after they were refused entry to the libraries and campus facilities. It was clear that many didn’t agree with the strike; instead, they saw a loss of teaching hours, and a direct attack on their education.

But this isn’t how it should have been. It is true that lecturers were primarily concerned with the decline of pay against the rise of living costs and income to the university, but the aim of the strike contained many other terms that staff are continually trying to negotiate with university employers. As well as gender equality pay, lecturers are extremely concerned with the notion that will impact students the most: the privatisation of education. Ross Adamson, a lecturer at the University of Brighton, discussed how this will affect the choices that students take when applying for university; “The thing about privatisation is that it will encourage students to choose subjects which they think will have the most financial return. This, over time, may see fewer students choosing courses within the arts and humanities subjects.”

And it isn’t just the impact this will have on a student’s course choice. Dr Vy Rajapillai agrees with her colleague, but believes it will put students off coming to university altogether; “People who cannot afford the costs, or take on the debt of £9000 a year, are not going to come to university even if they have big ambitions to come here. Instead of going on the basis of who has the merit, it’s going on the basis of who has the money.”

So it’s clear that lecturers and staff weren’t just striking for the sake of themselves; they were also concerned of the welfare of current and future students. So why didn’t the students see it this way?

Toine Hodgkiss is an Architecture student currently studying for his Masters degree. Toine tried to enter the Mouslecoomb campus on the day of the strike, only to be denied access to the library and other facilities when he approached the university. With just two days before one of his assessments was due in, it’s fair to say that his annoyance was fairly reasonable. He had some brief knowledge when asked about his understanding of the strike, but it was clear that he wasn’t aware of all the terms the lecturers and staff were fighting for; “I understood that the strike was based around the tutors’ pay and their demand for an increase.”

But, like many other students, Toine saw the strike only as a loss to his own and his peer’s education; “I didn’t think it was right that I couldn’t access many of the facilities that I would normally be able to. University costs students a lot of money, and it is hard to actually justify the fees for the course I am doing anyway, let alone when I cannot freely access certain facilities due to a strike.”

Toine wasn’t the only student who tried to enter the campus that day, and he certainly wasn’t the only one to disagree with the demonstration. But if one of the main concerns of the lecturers’ strike was for their students, then why were so many students frustrated by it? The only rational answer seems to be, they simply didn’t understand that they were a big part of it.

Instead of supporting the strike like the lecturers had hoped, many students were convinced that it was a pointless exercise that had a detrimental effect on their education. The main communication method that made students aware of the strike appeared to be only leaflets and word of mouth. Some students claimed to not have known about the strike until somebody else mentioned it to them just a few days before it took place. It’s no wonder then, that the students didn’t have any understanding of it, if they didn’t even know it was happening. Perhaps what is needed if there is to be any further action taking place, is more communication between lecturers and students. This way, better opportunities are likely to present themselves within the university for both groups.

Cancellation of lectures is something neither students nor lecturers want. Regardless, if strike action is very likely to be a regular occurrence in the future, there will be even more days where the university is inevitably closed. Although this might be a problem difficult to solve in the near future, it’s important to focus on both the short term and long term impact.

In the short term, there is going to be a negative impact on university life; a few missing lectures can prove to be a struggle within the course for students. However, the right amount of communication and explanation from lecturers can encourage students to support what they are fighting for. After students are made aware of the positive long term impact of strike action, the relationship between teachers and their pupils will be become stronger due to an understanding of each other’s needs.

In a recent Guardian article Harry Ritchie asks the following question: ‘Why do we persist in thinking that Standard English is right, when it is spoken by only 15% of the population?’ It’s an interesting question. My observation is that, actually, fewer and fewer people do in fact persist in thinking this. But I’m not blogging in order to discuss the question. Rather, I’d like to draw attention to Ritchie’s truly mind-boggling answer to the question he poses: he blames Noam Chomsky.

I’ve read the article repeatedly now, and I have to say I’m still no closer to finding any real justification for Ritchie’s claim. Still, in the interests of cool-headed analysis as opposed to the vitriolic dismissal my emotions are screaming at me to write, let’s examine his case. As far as I can see, it rests on two related claims. Let’s examine them in turn:

Firstly, Chomsky (and his disciples, including Pinker) have been so convinced that language is partly innately-specified that the whole discipline has been (in Ritchie’s words) ‘hunting unicorns’ and ignoring matters such as language death, social and political factors in language use and environmental factors in language acquisition. Secondly (and I quote again), ‘Recent evidence from neurology, genetics and linguistics all points to there being no innate programming. Children learn language just as they learn other skills, by experience’.

Turning to the first claim, we can only take it seriously if it can be shown that Chomsky’s work has somehow prevented others from exploring language death, social and political factors in language use and environmental factors.[1] Has Ritchie ever visited a library devoted to language and linguistics? Over the past twenty years, there have been billions of words devoted to these areas of study. Does Ritchie really believe that if Chomsky hadn’t come along, there would have been more? Actually, I believe there would have been less. Without Chomsky there would be fewer, not more, departments of Linguistics.

Turning to the second, it is simply not true that all the evidence points against Chomsky’s claims of innateness. There is certainly some evidence from work on neural-nets in Connectionist frameworks that ‘minds’ can learn aspects of language from experience. But these rely on the highly controversial claim that neural-nets somehow model cognition. Equally, they conveniently ignore many of the linguistic data Chomsky had in mind that are patently unlearnable. Besides which, there is at least as much evidence in support of innateness claims as there is against it. (For those interested in Chomsky’s views, rather than take them from Ritchie I’d recommend the highly accessible introduction in ‘Problems of Knowledge: the Managua Lectures’, published, I think, in 1978.)

Ritchie also criticizes Pinker’s excellent book The Language Instinct. It has, he claims, ‘…a very specific agenda – to support Noam Chomsky’s theories about our language skills being innate’. He goes on: ‘other areas of linguistics are glimpsed, if at all, fuzzily in the background.’ From here, Ritchie moves on to the kind of linguistics he’s interested in and discusses how the language of the Proto-Indo-Europeans laid the foundations upon which many modern languages have been built.

Interested readers might notice that this topic, far from being ignored in The Language Instinct, actually receives a whole chapter. Has Ritchie read it, I wonder?

And how any of this justifies Ritchie’s blaming Chomsky for the view that most people (if they, in fact, do) believe that Standard English is the correct version of English, I just don’t know. I welcome an explanation. It appears to me to be some convoluted argument resting on the two claims above. Since the two claims are fallacious, however, it simply can’t go through.

The study of language and linguistics is in far better shape now than it was fifty years ago. Why? Because Chomsky.