email to Jobcentre Plus via Government Equalities Office
Dear People
I received a telephone call from Jobcentre Plus today: I tried to email them, but, my are they shy about giving email addresses for complaints about themselves! It might have been the "local office" that phoned me, but they don't give email addresses either, and I'm too wound up to want to phone anyone, even if I get the right office and even if someone picks up the call eventually.
I did email the first "Jobcentre Plus" that came up in Google, but it turned out to be a different company; the directgov site gives zero information about how to complain about any part of itself.
So here's what I wanted to say to them:
******
I’ve just had a phone call from Jobcentre Plus –
She: We sent you a form on October 4th and haven’t had it back yet.
Me: If it came in small print, I would have sent it back with a covering letter saying that I’m visually impaired and need large print: I always do.
[I checked my correspondence log after this call: it did arrive and I did send it back, using the SAE provided – I don’t know who’s got it, but they don’t seem to have passed it on.]
She: We need your pension details; the provider, and the amount.
Me: The provider is the London Borough of Tower Hamlets; the amount I don’t know cos they use small print too.
She: I'll send you out another form
Me: If it’s in small print I won’t be able to read it; that’s why I sent the first one back.
She: We can’t do large print. Isn’t there someone who can help you fill it in?
Me: No. I live alone and have no friends or family
[not true, but I certainly have none within calling distance. Besides I object to other people knowing private details of my personal life]
She: All you have to do is fill in the details.
Me: But how can I fill in the details when I can’t see the form?
She: You can put them on a piece of paper but you have to sign the form on the back.
I gave up at that point. How am I going to know what details are wanted if I can’t read the sodding form?
“We can’t do large print” in the 21st century? “Can’t be bothered”, more like.
I don’t know how many people work for Jobcentre Plus (I did try a Google, no luck), but as it covers all of the country, I’d imagine there to be several thousand employees.
None of those several thousand people seem to have heard of the Disability Discrimination Act, which has only been law for about ten years.
Even though visual impairment is the fastest-growing disability, none of those several thousand people has apparently ever thought that they just might be able to do something to meet the needs of those disabled people – and conform to the law.
Especially as the DDA says that organisations “must make reasonable adjustments” to enable the disabled to interact on a more equal footing (or less unequal, at least) – and putting a letter or form into large print is hardly unreasonable.
Whoever’s reading this: how would you feel if you had to let your relatives, friends, or the bloke next door know personal details about yourself? Just so that a national government agency can protect its staff from the arduous effort of having to think?
I don’t buy “we can’t do large print”. I’m sure you’d find that you could – if anyone ever bothered to try.
If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone: it took five years and an official complaint to get the Rent section of my council to get past “we can’t do large print”. Odd how quickly they found that they could do it once the complaint hit their desks.
To tell the visually impaired that they must have their personal and private correspondence read to them, as if they were children, that they must let others, even family (sometimes, especially family!) know the intimate details of their personal life, is humiliating, degrading, soul-destroying ... and most of all, completely unnecessary as well as completely illegal.
Any letter, form, booklet or other communication that you send me in small print is going to be sent right back to you. One day maybe your people might just get the message.
I’m fed up with having to grovel for even reluctant semi-decent treatment. I’m sick of having to beg cap-in-hand for even a semblance of normal human understanding and a willingness to bend even a micron to meet the needs of the visually-impaired.
If Jobcentre Plus really is completely incapable of transforming documents, forms, etc, into large print, then please say so in writing, clearly and unequivocally. My legal friend will know what to do. If such an admission is not forthcoming, I shall assume that Jobcentre Plus can do large print, but simply chooses not to – and my legal friend will know what to do with that, too.
If I sound fed up and stroppy, guess what? I am. I’ve been fighting this battle since 1992, when my vision first failed: I’m so tired of having to beg ever-so-‘umbly to be treated just as if I were a real person.
While I'm writing to you ... I am medically retired from work because of an inoperable injury to my lower spine: I am officially unfit for work. So why does Jobcentre Plus keep harassing me? (Granted, you stopped sending me "let's get you back to work" booklets [in small print] after I wrote asking you to take me off your disabled-hate-mail mailing list, and explaining why) - but I am officially incapable of work, so what does Jobcentre Plus have to do with me now? Or I with it?
[my name] [Ms]
*****
You can see why I didn’t want to say this over the phone! Apart from anything else, it wouldn't have been fair on whoever just happened to pick up the call - not their fault.
****
from Jobcentre Plus website:
When you contact Jobcentre Plus, you can expect to:
be treated with respect
be given the right information
be dealt with on time
access services easily [irony, I presume]
[my name] [Ms]
PS: you might get your webmaster to relabel the home page of your site. Saving it to favourites as "Home Page" is hardly informative: whose home page? and there's "do you want to overwrite" all the other "Home Page"s from all the other professional [sic] websites that do this?
About Me
- Frances will do
- London, England, United Kingdom
- I'm severely visually impaired [so be gentle with my typos!] and have an inoperable injury to my lower spine: apart from that, I'm as miserable as the next person! That's not my real star-sign on my profile, but my dad died on my birthday in 2001, so I now share his
Monday, 18 October 2010
Sunday, 26 September 2010
Write from the Heart
One of the best, and possibly the safest, ways of letting off steam when something up-sets you is to write about it. You can say absolutely what you want, get rid of your ten-sions, pour your feelings onto paper (and then you can tear it up and throw it away so nobody will ever know what you wrote, if that worries you).
Creative writing is a useful safety-valve, having a definite therapeutic effect, but few peo-ple seem to take advantage of it. Everybody can write; some can do it better than oth-ers, but everybody can do it to some extent. And, like everything else, most of it is prac-tice: the more you do, the better you become.
If you’ve never done any creative writing (or not since you left school), you may not know how to start. On the back of this sheet, I’ve made a couple of lists. Have a look; do any of these things ring bells in you? Do you find meaning in any of them? Then write about it! Write what you feel, what it reminds you of, what you wish you could have done about it at the time, what you’d like to do about it now.
If none of them rings any particular bell, then just pick one at random and write whatever you like about it; what does that word, or that line, conjure up to you? What words and feelings do you associate with it? The human mind is very good at laying down smoke-screens and hiding behind them, blocking anything that might be ‘too risky’ to let out. Pick words at random, write about them, and see what happens. If nothing else, you’ll be writing!
Remember:
The only rule in creative writing is that there aren’t any rules. It’s not like cooking, for in-stance, where the right ingredients have to be put into the mixture in the right order and in the right proportions, where a set sequence has to be followed to obtain the desired result. In creative writing, whatever works for you is valid. There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way – only ways that work for you or that don’t; or ways that work better than others.
Be gentle with yourself. Don’t dismiss anything you write as ‘rubbish’; don’t compare yourself with ‘better’ writers. It’s amazing how skill comes with practice – and you’ve got the skill. Everybody has. But most people aren’t given the chance to find out that they’ve got it.
Find your own voice. Write in whatever style seems best for you; use the words and styles that you feel comfortable with. Develop your own unique way of expressing your-self; again, practice will make, if not perfect, then better. (Some how-to-write books say that you should begin by copying the styles of other writers, but I’m not too sure about that – why be a tribute band, playing other people’s music, when you’ve got your own music to play? You want to be the first you, not the second somebody else!)
Write for yourself, to please yourself. So you may not be very good at first. Who is? Most of us can cook – but that doesn’t mean you can whip up a 12-course meal for 500 people the first time you enter a kitchen! Start with egg and chips, and work your way up from there – if you feel the need. (Personally, I’d rather eat egg and chips than some fancy meal covered with gunge!)
Don’t pre-judge, or censor yourself. Write exactly what you’re feeling, in your own words. And don’t worry! Nobody’s looking over your shoulder. Nobody’s judging you. Write for yourself. You might feel self-conscious about it at first (everybody does), but stick with it. You’ll probably surprise yourself, if you give yourself the chance.
You might be a little taken aback by the strength of some of your reactions at first. Feel-ings that have been long repressed will come out strongly; this may be the first time they’ve seen daylight for years! If this happens to you, don’t worry; you’ve taken the first step in acknowledging that you have unresolved conflicts. After all, you can’t solve a problem until you admit that the problem exists. Once it’s out in the open, it can be dealt with, and then you can move on. It may be painful, but it really is better out than in. You won’t hurt yourself; you’ll only become stronger - it’s keeping the feelings repressed that causes harm.
Do any of these mean anything special to you? Then write it out!
Ambition - Anger - Back-stabbing - Being controlled - Being ignored - Being laughed at - Being lied to - Broken dreams - Broken promises - Bullying - Childhood - Confidence - Counting your blessings - Depression - Dignity - Disappointment - Discipline - Drink - Family - Family expectations - Father - Fear - Forgiveness - Freedom - Friends - Friendship - Gossip - Gratitude - Guilt - Happiness - Hate - Hope - Innocence - Interference - Jealousy - Loneliness - Lost opportunities - Love - Manipulation - Misuse of authority - Money [or lack of] - Mother - Neighbours - Not being val-ued - Obedience - Obsession - Parting - Power over others - Pride - Quality of life - Relaxing - Resentment - Respect - Sacri-fice - Sadness - Secrets - Self-respect - Sex - Solitude - Stereotyping – Gender, racial, etc - Stress - Taking credit for someone else’ s work - Talking over your problems - Telling lies - The boss - Un-wanted advice - Work colleagues
************
A friend in need - Act your age! - Anything for a quiet life - Be grateful for small mercies - Be grateful for whatever you’re given - Beauty is only skin deep - Blood is thicker than water - Cheats never prosper - Cheer up, it could al-ways be worse - Don’t do as I do, do as I say - Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth - For better or for worse - Heaven helps those who help themselves - Honour thy father and thy mother - If I had the money, I’d— -
If I was you, I’d . . . - If only I hadn’t said that! - If you loved me you’d prove it - It takes one to know one - Just you wait till I get you home! - Men should be . . . - Mother knows best - Nobody really understands me - One rule for ‘them’, another for ‘us’ - Only babies cry - Pull yourself together! - Spare the rod and spoil the child - The past is dead – isn’t it? - Thou shalt not be found out - When I was your age, I . . . - Why can’t I . . .? - Because I say so! - Why can’t people mind their own business? - Why don’t you ever listen to me? - Why won’t they take me seriously? - Women should be . . . - You don’t know when you’re well-off - You think you’ve got problems! - You’ll un-derstand when you grow up - You’re not going out looking like that!
Creative writing is a useful safety-valve, having a definite therapeutic effect, but few peo-ple seem to take advantage of it. Everybody can write; some can do it better than oth-ers, but everybody can do it to some extent. And, like everything else, most of it is prac-tice: the more you do, the better you become.
If you’ve never done any creative writing (or not since you left school), you may not know how to start. On the back of this sheet, I’ve made a couple of lists. Have a look; do any of these things ring bells in you? Do you find meaning in any of them? Then write about it! Write what you feel, what it reminds you of, what you wish you could have done about it at the time, what you’d like to do about it now.
If none of them rings any particular bell, then just pick one at random and write whatever you like about it; what does that word, or that line, conjure up to you? What words and feelings do you associate with it? The human mind is very good at laying down smoke-screens and hiding behind them, blocking anything that might be ‘too risky’ to let out. Pick words at random, write about them, and see what happens. If nothing else, you’ll be writing!
Remember:
The only rule in creative writing is that there aren’t any rules. It’s not like cooking, for in-stance, where the right ingredients have to be put into the mixture in the right order and in the right proportions, where a set sequence has to be followed to obtain the desired result. In creative writing, whatever works for you is valid. There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way – only ways that work for you or that don’t; or ways that work better than others.
Be gentle with yourself. Don’t dismiss anything you write as ‘rubbish’; don’t compare yourself with ‘better’ writers. It’s amazing how skill comes with practice – and you’ve got the skill. Everybody has. But most people aren’t given the chance to find out that they’ve got it.
Find your own voice. Write in whatever style seems best for you; use the words and styles that you feel comfortable with. Develop your own unique way of expressing your-self; again, practice will make, if not perfect, then better. (Some how-to-write books say that you should begin by copying the styles of other writers, but I’m not too sure about that – why be a tribute band, playing other people’s music, when you’ve got your own music to play? You want to be the first you, not the second somebody else!)
Write for yourself, to please yourself. So you may not be very good at first. Who is? Most of us can cook – but that doesn’t mean you can whip up a 12-course meal for 500 people the first time you enter a kitchen! Start with egg and chips, and work your way up from there – if you feel the need. (Personally, I’d rather eat egg and chips than some fancy meal covered with gunge!)
Don’t pre-judge, or censor yourself. Write exactly what you’re feeling, in your own words. And don’t worry! Nobody’s looking over your shoulder. Nobody’s judging you. Write for yourself. You might feel self-conscious about it at first (everybody does), but stick with it. You’ll probably surprise yourself, if you give yourself the chance.
You might be a little taken aback by the strength of some of your reactions at first. Feel-ings that have been long repressed will come out strongly; this may be the first time they’ve seen daylight for years! If this happens to you, don’t worry; you’ve taken the first step in acknowledging that you have unresolved conflicts. After all, you can’t solve a problem until you admit that the problem exists. Once it’s out in the open, it can be dealt with, and then you can move on. It may be painful, but it really is better out than in. You won’t hurt yourself; you’ll only become stronger - it’s keeping the feelings repressed that causes harm.
Do any of these mean anything special to you? Then write it out!
Ambition - Anger - Back-stabbing - Being controlled - Being ignored - Being laughed at - Being lied to - Broken dreams - Broken promises - Bullying - Childhood - Confidence - Counting your blessings - Depression - Dignity - Disappointment - Discipline - Drink - Family - Family expectations - Father - Fear - Forgiveness - Freedom - Friends - Friendship - Gossip - Gratitude - Guilt - Happiness - Hate - Hope - Innocence - Interference - Jealousy - Loneliness - Lost opportunities - Love - Manipulation - Misuse of authority - Money [or lack of] - Mother - Neighbours - Not being val-ued - Obedience - Obsession - Parting - Power over others - Pride - Quality of life - Relaxing - Resentment - Respect - Sacri-fice - Sadness - Secrets - Self-respect - Sex - Solitude - Stereotyping – Gender, racial, etc - Stress - Taking credit for someone else’ s work - Talking over your problems - Telling lies - The boss - Un-wanted advice - Work colleagues
************
A friend in need - Act your age! - Anything for a quiet life - Be grateful for small mercies - Be grateful for whatever you’re given - Beauty is only skin deep - Blood is thicker than water - Cheats never prosper - Cheer up, it could al-ways be worse - Don’t do as I do, do as I say - Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth - For better or for worse - Heaven helps those who help themselves - Honour thy father and thy mother - If I had the money, I’d— -
If I was you, I’d . . . - If only I hadn’t said that! - If you loved me you’d prove it - It takes one to know one - Just you wait till I get you home! - Men should be . . . - Mother knows best - Nobody really understands me - One rule for ‘them’, another for ‘us’ - Only babies cry - Pull yourself together! - Spare the rod and spoil the child - The past is dead – isn’t it? - Thou shalt not be found out - When I was your age, I . . . - Why can’t I . . .? - Because I say so! - Why can’t people mind their own business? - Why don’t you ever listen to me? - Why won’t they take me seriously? - Women should be . . . - You don’t know when you’re well-off - You think you’ve got problems! - You’ll un-derstand when you grow up - You’re not going out looking like that!
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Songs that helped to save my life
I’ve suffered from depression for years. Some times are worse than others: at my very lowest I have seriously considered climbing out of the window of my 7th-floor flat.
Thankfully I’ve never (yet) gone that bare millimetre lower that would turn thought into action – there’s always been a tiny spark (so far) that tells me that that’s not the answer.
I’ve bought so many self-help books to try to get myself sorted, and they all basically say the same thing – you have to love yourself.
But, I thought, how can you love yourself when you don’t even like yourself very much?
Okay, I thought, let’s scale it down. Rather than try to climb Everest in one leap, let’s break it down into a more manageable series of smaller steps. Let’s start with making friends with myself and work upwards from there.
Then I suddenly thought of the Queen song “You’re my best friend”. That sounds a good start, I thought; after all, I should be my own best friend.
So every day, when I stood in front of the bathroom mirror brushing my hair or cleaning my teeth, I looked myself in the eyes and ran that song through my mind (it might have been better if I’d been able to play the actual song, but I know it enough to be able to “replay” most of it).
And it started to work. I started to feel better about myself. I started to look at myself more kindly – psychologically as well as physically.
Then I thought of the Monkees song “Take a giant step outside your mind” and found that to be helpful, too. That was linked to another Monkees song “That was then, this is now”; the song itself isn’t really relevant, but the title is – and that was all I needed to reinforce the message of “Take a giant step”.
But the one that really rang the bell …
Years ago there was a Gene Kelly film on TV that I videoed – “It’s always fair weather”. The film as a whole was a bit naff, but I kept the vid because there’s an amazing sequence where he tap-dances on roller-skates, and I played that bit so much I almost wore the tape out. It was only much later that I started to pay attention to the song that went with the dance:.
Can it be I like myself?
She likes me so I like myself
If someone wonderful as she is
Can think I’m wonderful
I must be quite a guy
Feeling so unlike myself
Always used to dislike myself
But now my love has got me riding high
She likes me – so so do I
Those words really struck home:
If people like me, there must be something likeable about me? If people want to be with me, then I can’t be such a nebbish? If people want to be my friends, then I must have some qualities that they think worthy of being associated with?
I used that song a lot. I let it play in my mind, over and over and over. And while you can’t get away with singing in the street it’s got a very whistle-able tune.
And the more I did it, the deeper and stronger and more powerful it became. More than once, walking down the road with that song in my mind or that tune on my lips, I had to suddenly check myself as my foot almost touched the pavement because I knew that that foot would have gone down in a tappy-tap – and if I’d taken that step, what would the next one have been? I wasn’t quite confident enough to start trying to tap-dance in the street!
Queen helped a lot, and the Monkees added a bit to the foundations, but this is the song that did most to save my life.
That was years ago, and after a while, sadly, I forgot to keep these songs in mind and I slipped back to my former level of depression.
But yesterday, for no reason that I can remember, “I like myself” came back into my mind; I started to whistle it and immediately started feeling better. So now I need to remember to practice remembering the song – and who knows? one day I might not mind that I feel like tippy-tapping in the street!
I looked up the names of the songwriters (Betty Comden and Adolph Green); I did think of sending them a thank-you – them, or their families if it were too late to thank them personally. I never did, or at least I haven’t so far; I suppose I could contact the film studio and ask them to pass on a message, but they might just think that I was a nutter.
Anyway, it worked then – and I know that it will work just as well now that I’ve remembered to try again. It might not work for anyone else, but who knows? It might.
You might already own some of these songs, but if not they’re all on YouTube (I’ve not included “That was then” since I only used the title! but it’s there too):
Queen: You’re my best friend –
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aus1PA5-SyI (this video has the lyrics as well)
Monkees: Take a giant step
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUDqYHNaesk
Gene Kelly: I like myself
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aus1PA5-SyI
Thankfully I’ve never (yet) gone that bare millimetre lower that would turn thought into action – there’s always been a tiny spark (so far) that tells me that that’s not the answer.
I’ve bought so many self-help books to try to get myself sorted, and they all basically say the same thing – you have to love yourself.
But, I thought, how can you love yourself when you don’t even like yourself very much?
Okay, I thought, let’s scale it down. Rather than try to climb Everest in one leap, let’s break it down into a more manageable series of smaller steps. Let’s start with making friends with myself and work upwards from there.
Then I suddenly thought of the Queen song “You’re my best friend”. That sounds a good start, I thought; after all, I should be my own best friend.
So every day, when I stood in front of the bathroom mirror brushing my hair or cleaning my teeth, I looked myself in the eyes and ran that song through my mind (it might have been better if I’d been able to play the actual song, but I know it enough to be able to “replay” most of it).
And it started to work. I started to feel better about myself. I started to look at myself more kindly – psychologically as well as physically.
Then I thought of the Monkees song “Take a giant step outside your mind” and found that to be helpful, too. That was linked to another Monkees song “That was then, this is now”; the song itself isn’t really relevant, but the title is – and that was all I needed to reinforce the message of “Take a giant step”.
But the one that really rang the bell …
Years ago there was a Gene Kelly film on TV that I videoed – “It’s always fair weather”. The film as a whole was a bit naff, but I kept the vid because there’s an amazing sequence where he tap-dances on roller-skates, and I played that bit so much I almost wore the tape out. It was only much later that I started to pay attention to the song that went with the dance:.
Can it be I like myself?
She likes me so I like myself
If someone wonderful as she is
Can think I’m wonderful
I must be quite a guy
Feeling so unlike myself
Always used to dislike myself
But now my love has got me riding high
She likes me – so so do I
Those words really struck home:
If people like me, there must be something likeable about me? If people want to be with me, then I can’t be such a nebbish? If people want to be my friends, then I must have some qualities that they think worthy of being associated with?
I used that song a lot. I let it play in my mind, over and over and over. And while you can’t get away with singing in the street it’s got a very whistle-able tune.
And the more I did it, the deeper and stronger and more powerful it became. More than once, walking down the road with that song in my mind or that tune on my lips, I had to suddenly check myself as my foot almost touched the pavement because I knew that that foot would have gone down in a tappy-tap – and if I’d taken that step, what would the next one have been? I wasn’t quite confident enough to start trying to tap-dance in the street!
Queen helped a lot, and the Monkees added a bit to the foundations, but this is the song that did most to save my life.
That was years ago, and after a while, sadly, I forgot to keep these songs in mind and I slipped back to my former level of depression.
But yesterday, for no reason that I can remember, “I like myself” came back into my mind; I started to whistle it and immediately started feeling better. So now I need to remember to practice remembering the song – and who knows? one day I might not mind that I feel like tippy-tapping in the street!
I looked up the names of the songwriters (Betty Comden and Adolph Green); I did think of sending them a thank-you – them, or their families if it were too late to thank them personally. I never did, or at least I haven’t so far; I suppose I could contact the film studio and ask them to pass on a message, but they might just think that I was a nutter.
Anyway, it worked then – and I know that it will work just as well now that I’ve remembered to try again. It might not work for anyone else, but who knows? It might.
You might already own some of these songs, but if not they’re all on YouTube (I’ve not included “That was then” since I only used the title! but it’s there too):
Queen: You’re my best friend –
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aus1PA5-SyI (this video has the lyrics as well)
Monkees: Take a giant step
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUDqYHNaesk
Gene Kelly: I like myself
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aus1PA5-SyI
Friday, 23 April 2010
Video: Boat trip to Greenwich
This was created by a visually-impaired person for other visually-impaired people to watch, so the text is probably bigger and slower than you might be used to.
It was my first effort at using Microsoft Movie Maker, hence the reference to "frequent swearing" in the end credits! It's always so much fun to do something when you can't quite see well enough to make out the tiny elements you're supposed to be working with ...
Thursday, 8 April 2010
A crip on my shoulder
I get really cheesed when I get official letters that tell me that this letter-form-information booklet-whatever is also available in large-print format.
Why should I get annoyed at knowing that there are accessible forms of this document that are mine for the asking?
Why should I get so irritated at government and council departments and other organisations finally realising that visually-impaired people have special needs, and taking steps to meet those needs?
Well, it’s very simple … how do you think they invariably tell me that I can have large print?
You guessed it … IN SMALL PRINT!
In the same size print as the rest of the letter, they tell me that I can have large print.
If I could read the small print to know that I had the option of having large print, I wouldn’t need to ask for large print; I’d be able to read the whole damn letter-form-whatever in the original format.
They might as well tell me – in Sanskrit or Egyptian hieroglyphics – that I can have the letter in English if I want.
If I can’t access the information to know that it’s also available in alternative format, how the hell am I supposed to know that I can ask for that alternative format?
I notice that, when they say that the letter-form-whatever is available in other languages, they always put a line in that language, presumably telling people in their own language that they can have the whole thing in that language if they need it.
But not the visually impaired! We’re only allowed to be given this information in a way that we can’t sodding well access.
Don’t people think? Don’t they realise that, if we can’t read small print, we can’t read the “you-can-have-this-in-large-print”?
Why don’t they put this line IN large print, and give us a sporting chance of actually being able to read it?
Why should I get annoyed at knowing that there are accessible forms of this document that are mine for the asking?
Why should I get so irritated at government and council departments and other organisations finally realising that visually-impaired people have special needs, and taking steps to meet those needs?
Well, it’s very simple … how do you think they invariably tell me that I can have large print?
You guessed it … IN SMALL PRINT!
In the same size print as the rest of the letter, they tell me that I can have large print.
If I could read the small print to know that I had the option of having large print, I wouldn’t need to ask for large print; I’d be able to read the whole damn letter-form-whatever in the original format.
They might as well tell me – in Sanskrit or Egyptian hieroglyphics – that I can have the letter in English if I want.
If I can’t access the information to know that it’s also available in alternative format, how the hell am I supposed to know that I can ask for that alternative format?
I notice that, when they say that the letter-form-whatever is available in other languages, they always put a line in that language, presumably telling people in their own language that they can have the whole thing in that language if they need it.
But not the visually impaired! We’re only allowed to be given this information in a way that we can’t sodding well access.
Don’t people think? Don’t they realise that, if we can’t read small print, we can’t read the “you-can-have-this-in-large-print”?
Why don’t they put this line IN large print, and give us a sporting chance of actually being able to read it?
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Penetrating insights
I’ve been pondering this subject for a while (mostly pondering how to state my case with the maximum of clarity and the minimum of basic Anglo-Saxon). Let’s see how near I’ve got …
In (nearly?) all sexual encounters between men and women, it’s the man who does the penetrating: even in kissing, the man is more likely to penetrate the woman’s mouth than she is his.
So it’s common for women to discover the limit that will initiate their inbuilt gag reflex, and correspondingly rare for men to discover theirs.
Not being penetrated as a general rule, men don’t know what it feels like, and so blithely continue to shove things into places that were never meant to receive such items, especially with such enthusiastic vigour.
So, blokes, here’s an idea: why don’t you try a few things on yourself, to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of what you give out?
Step 1: Get a piece of raw liver and cut it to tongue shape and size. Now shove it into your mouth, and then push the tip of it down your throat. Move it about as you move your tongue about in your lover’s mouth.
Step 2: Select the vegetable of your choice and whittle it into the approximate size and shape of your own favourite body-part. (You can over-estimate as much as you like here!)
Now try oral sex with that. How does it feel to you to have something that size pushing into your mouth and down your throat?
We all know the thing about "sticking your fingers down your throat to make you sick". Well, the effect is exactly the same with anything else stuck down your throat.
Step 3: Since quite a few men seem to have a thing about anal sex, the next step is obvious ...
Check out how it feels to you before you do it to other people. You might learn a few things that would make you a better and more considerate lover.
(In the interests of sexual equality, women could take another slice or liver and fold it into a “butterfly” and see how the man feels, too!)
In (nearly?) all sexual encounters between men and women, it’s the man who does the penetrating: even in kissing, the man is more likely to penetrate the woman’s mouth than she is his.
So it’s common for women to discover the limit that will initiate their inbuilt gag reflex, and correspondingly rare for men to discover theirs.
Not being penetrated as a general rule, men don’t know what it feels like, and so blithely continue to shove things into places that were never meant to receive such items, especially with such enthusiastic vigour.
So, blokes, here’s an idea: why don’t you try a few things on yourself, to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of what you give out?
Step 1: Get a piece of raw liver and cut it to tongue shape and size. Now shove it into your mouth, and then push the tip of it down your throat. Move it about as you move your tongue about in your lover’s mouth.
Step 2: Select the vegetable of your choice and whittle it into the approximate size and shape of your own favourite body-part. (You can over-estimate as much as you like here!)
Now try oral sex with that. How does it feel to you to have something that size pushing into your mouth and down your throat?
We all know the thing about "sticking your fingers down your throat to make you sick". Well, the effect is exactly the same with anything else stuck down your throat.
Step 3: Since quite a few men seem to have a thing about anal sex, the next step is obvious ...
Check out how it feels to you before you do it to other people. You might learn a few things that would make you a better and more considerate lover.
(In the interests of sexual equality, women could take another slice or liver and fold it into a “butterfly” and see how the man feels, too!)
Monday, 5 April 2010
Wha'is the matter with clothes manufacturers these days?
I’ve been trying to find women’s long-sleeved shirts (cos I want a change from Primark men’s shirts!).
That’s all I want – plain, boring, long-sleeved women’s shirts that are long enough in the body so as not to come untucked when one bends forward (I thoroughly dislike that “air-gap” – are “ladies” supposed to do nothing except look pretty? They’re not meant to do anything that means they have to lean forward even a bit??)
I just found something (eventually!) on eBay (what’s the point of searching for “ladies’ long sleeved white shirts” when you get three pages of short-sleeved black t-shirts?) … so I looked at some of the shirts that were actually what I’d been looking for.
And then I noticed how they were sized. I quote:
size 8 - XS (30")
size 10 - S (32")
size 12 - M (34")
size 14 - L (36")
size 16 - XL (38")
and so on ….
I average around size 14 and I don’t feel particularly obese, thank you very much!
At least this is slightly better than a previous instance: I bought a basque for a fancy dress event: size 14. when it arrived, I tried it on and it fitted well.
Then I noticed the size label sewn into it … “XL”.
If I’d known that before I bought it, I wouldn’t have bought it, no matter how well it fitted – how dare some (probably male) git in an office somewhere arbitrarily decree that anyone my size is well on the way to obesity?
WTF are we coming to when a size 14 is considered “extra large”?
And you wonder why so many women and girls have bad body images when they’re as good as told that if they’re not matchsticks they’re barrage balloons?
You wonder why so many women and girls are anorexic or on the way to anorexia when we’re told that a female who is properly woman-shaped is “extra large”, implying the incipient onset of clinical obesity?
Why don’t manufactures just put the actual size on the garment and leave out “small-to-gigantic” labels, with all the attendant hang-ups that they cause?
They’re only generalisations, anyway – one manufacture’s “medium” is another’s “huge”, so they’re no more than very vague descriptions.
I’ve had “medium” t-shirts that were large enough to get a second person in as well, and “large” t-shirts that I had to get on with a shoe-horn.
They don’t actually tell one the real size of the garment unless one knows what the manufacturer consider small, medium or large – they’re comparatives, but we’re not given the comparison to let us work out what ruler the manufacture is measuring with.
Even clothing sizes are relative: the UK, Europe and US all have different size labels for the same physical size.
So why don’t they just put the actual chest size – 34”, 36”, or whatever. Inches are inches, so it won’t matter which country one lives in; if one uses the imperial measuring system, one will know if a garment will fit or not.
Of course, if they put both inches and centimetres on garments, then us Imperialists could gradually get to know our metric sizes too!
But let’s cut this “extra large” bollocks. We don’t need it! any more than we need the “size 0” at the other end of the scale – the one that we’re all supposed to aspire to if we want to be real women! Even if it kills us, and it probably will.
That’s all I want – plain, boring, long-sleeved women’s shirts that are long enough in the body so as not to come untucked when one bends forward (I thoroughly dislike that “air-gap” – are “ladies” supposed to do nothing except look pretty? They’re not meant to do anything that means they have to lean forward even a bit??)
I just found something (eventually!) on eBay (what’s the point of searching for “ladies’ long sleeved white shirts” when you get three pages of short-sleeved black t-shirts?) … so I looked at some of the shirts that were actually what I’d been looking for.
And then I noticed how they were sized. I quote:
size 8 - XS (30")
size 10 - S (32")
size 12 - M (34")
size 14 - L (36")
size 16 - XL (38")
and so on ….
I average around size 14 and I don’t feel particularly obese, thank you very much!
At least this is slightly better than a previous instance: I bought a basque for a fancy dress event: size 14. when it arrived, I tried it on and it fitted well.
Then I noticed the size label sewn into it … “XL”.
If I’d known that before I bought it, I wouldn’t have bought it, no matter how well it fitted – how dare some (probably male) git in an office somewhere arbitrarily decree that anyone my size is well on the way to obesity?
WTF are we coming to when a size 14 is considered “extra large”?
And you wonder why so many women and girls have bad body images when they’re as good as told that if they’re not matchsticks they’re barrage balloons?
You wonder why so many women and girls are anorexic or on the way to anorexia when we’re told that a female who is properly woman-shaped is “extra large”, implying the incipient onset of clinical obesity?
Why don’t manufactures just put the actual size on the garment and leave out “small-to-gigantic” labels, with all the attendant hang-ups that they cause?
They’re only generalisations, anyway – one manufacture’s “medium” is another’s “huge”, so they’re no more than very vague descriptions.
I’ve had “medium” t-shirts that were large enough to get a second person in as well, and “large” t-shirts that I had to get on with a shoe-horn.
They don’t actually tell one the real size of the garment unless one knows what the manufacturer consider small, medium or large – they’re comparatives, but we’re not given the comparison to let us work out what ruler the manufacture is measuring with.
Even clothing sizes are relative: the UK, Europe and US all have different size labels for the same physical size.
So why don’t they just put the actual chest size – 34”, 36”, or whatever. Inches are inches, so it won’t matter which country one lives in; if one uses the imperial measuring system, one will know if a garment will fit or not.
Of course, if they put both inches and centimetres on garments, then us Imperialists could gradually get to know our metric sizes too!
But let’s cut this “extra large” bollocks. We don’t need it! any more than we need the “size 0” at the other end of the scale – the one that we’re all supposed to aspire to if we want to be real women! Even if it kills us, and it probably will.
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