Showing posts with label Jennie Gyllblad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jennie Gyllblad. Show all posts

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Ranting About EU VAT


I’m not a comic book artist. I don’t own a micro-business, I’m not a sole trader. But I have a friend who is a comic book artist. She is a sole trader. And on New Year’s Day 2015, she could be looking at the end of any kind of dream of making a living from her artwork. Which is amazing. I have a framed piece of it on my desk. I’ve had her work displayed in our cafĂ© twice. I’m thinking maybe a third time is order because I like her work so much.

My friend is Jennie Gyllblad. Click the name to learn more about her work. Click this link to read what the independent artists have to say about a new circle of hell of bureaucracy and red-tape being looped around their livelihoods. Then read what one of the EU’s top dogs has to say about the whole thing. Doesn’t read like a pile of patronising wank from a government official. Not at all.

I’m prepared to admit that I probably don’t understand this stuff half as well as I should. I’m not providing any kind of digital services that would require me to register for VAT in other EU countries. But I am a creative person was aspirations of making a living out of my work. Sure, I intend to go down the standard commercial route. Get myself an agent, let them do the legwork with publishing houses, take their piece of the pie and leave me with the crusts to live off. But what if that doesn’t fly? What if I decide that I just want to get my work out there any way I can and go in for the ever-growing market of ebooks. Oh yeah, that’s right. The European Union is going to make they get their cut. All in the name of “fairness”. Making sure big businesses don’t utilise one country’s relaxed tax laws to benefit their coffers. Yes, ladies and germs, the small business people, the sole traders, are getting dicked over so nameless corporate fat cats have to get a smaller bonus and go for last year’s Ferrari instead of this year’s flashy new model

Gross over simplifications, I’m sure. I’m straying into the dangerous arena of political discourse and I might as well by painting a big target on my chest and jumping up and down shouting “Hey you there with the excessively large rifle! Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!” But this whole thing has led me to thinking about subject which has been cropping up a lot in my head lately.

We’re about to make an abrupt topic change. Seatbelts on, kids. I’m about to talk about one-world government.

My favourite videogame is Deus Ex. Towards the end of the game’s first act if you will, one of the main characters has a little throwaway line of dialogue – “The wealthy has always been the ones to profit from one-world government.” I have no idea why they do. I have no idea if a single, unified human government wouldn’t just end up screwing everyone over, but I feel rather convinced in my heart that if we don’t all come together and cooperate, there isn’t any hope for humanity.

The Republicans swept both chambers of Congress in the mid-term elections. There’s the terrifying possibility that if they can muster a charismatic enough candidate in 2016, they’ll snatch the White House. It’s a thought that makes me shudder. But then I look back home and I shudder even more. The rise of the UK Independence Party. An unholy band of fascist gasbags who would take the UK out of the European Union and probably attempt to re-establish the British Empire while they’re at it. I wouldn’t put it past them to settle the old score with France by flattening the country with nuclear weapons. And maybe just throwing a few pot-shots at the rest of the EU. And these aren’t the only two examples. In the recent European Parliament elections, many right-wing ultra-nationalist parties made gains. It’s a disquieting trend. It could be considered quite the naive worldview, but I studied history for a good long while and there’s a very important thing I learned about nationalist parties – they are BAD NEWS.

Let’s examine some extreme examples. Benito Mussolini. Turned Italy into a fascist dictatorship and led them into World War II side-by-side with Nazi Germany, the most dangerous nationalist, fascist regime in history. Millions dead in heavy fighting, millions more murdered for the simple fact of their ethnic heritage. Why? All in the name of the nation’s spirit and purity. Are you sure you don’t want to shudder at the idea of UKIP and parties of their ilk taking power in other nations?

But how does this relate to one-world government? Simple. We need to shed our insistence on being identified by nationality, on this idea that our sovereign identity is more important than our shared humanity. I grew up in Wales. I’m Welsh. But I live in England. So I’m British. Because of this dichotomy of national identities, I find I care very little for my national heritage. I don’t give a frak. I don’t wave the British flag, I don’t sing the national anthem because I don’t know or care to learn the words and I sure as frak don’t want this country separated from the rest of Europe or the world for that matter. It’s more important that I’m human. That humanity comes together and embraces that fact that our future is decided together. When the world comes to an abrupt end, we’re all gone. No little country is going to be spared to take all the glory for themselves.

Perhaps it’s my lot as a science-fiction writer to dream of a brighter, more utopian future. Let’s talk about that. I say utopian. One-world government will not be a utopian dream of cooperation. It will not be the United Federation of Planets living in peace and harmony with all peoples. But I think it will be better. With the combined resources of all nations, laws established from one source applied to the whole world...no need for individual VAT regulations for countries. One tax law to govern the whole planet. It’s instances like this that I think the United States has a pretty good model. You’ve got federal laws and state laws. Apply that model to the world and I think you’ve got a nice stop-gap solution, a good first step. Because a lot of countries won’t want to give up their individual laws. So treat them like state laws. Except in incidents of human rights for example, where it’s a global law matter.

More than anything – and this is where I get incredibly flighty and my sci-fi roots really take hold – there is no way, in our current state of squabbling nations, that humanity has any hope of getting off this planet. That, for me, is a big deal. Because this planet is beyond frakked and doomed. Generations down the line, this place is in incredible danger of being rendered completely uninhabitable. And it won’t be the sole strength of China or the United States that will save us. No. It will require cooperation on an unprecedented global scale to save the future of humanity.

Konstantin Tsiolkovsky said it best: “Earth is the cradle of humanity. But one cannot remain in the cradle forever.” I believe that the future of humanity lies out in the stars. Extra-solar colonisation is the way to go. But we can’t do it alone. We’re going to have to do it together. The sooner we realise that our fate as a species is irrevocably tied together and the Universe doesn’t give two shits if we’re British, American, Chinese, French, German, Egyptian, Sudanese, Iranian or Indian (it’s going to try and kill us all anyway with massive solar flares, asteroids and all sorts of other junk), the sooner we can get on with the business of realising our species’ full potential. The sooner we can step out into those stars and forge a brighter, more incredible future for humankind.

Started out ranting about prohibitive bureaucracy and unnecessary financial red-tape. Ended up philosophising about the future of humanity. All in a day’s work for my incredibly sporadic mind. Still frakked off (on behalf of dear friends) about this EU VAT regulation thing. Sign this petition please. Stop them from bankrupting my friends and fellow creatives. This world would be an even more dull and depressing place without our minds in it.

Friday, 17 January 2014

All of this has happened before and all of this will happen again...

When a new year rolls around, it seems custom dictates that we look back upon it and those of us so inclined to waffle on do so in that retrospective manner. Those of us so inclined take to using bizarrely structured sentences with big words to make themselves sound ever so more eloquent than they really are, to promote the idea of intelligence. That or the person in question has just watched the last episode of Sherlock again and as such is feeling like prancing around and being a smartass. Unfortunately, that is all I'd be able to do as I lack Sherlock Holmes' rather brilliant deductive processes.

Anyway, that's a digression. Back to the matter at hand, which is the retrospective look at 2013. Blame old Janus for that one, two-headed know-it-all. Thanks to that particular god - who, fun fact, has no equivalent in Greek mythology - we spend a lot of January (shockingly enough named after him, vain little bugger) looking back at the year before and planning on doing so many wonderful things in the year ahead. We call them New Year's Resolutions, more commonly known as "sign up for the gym in January then stop going in February because I can't be arsed". Disclaimer - there are those in this world who do manage to actually stick to their resolutions and kudos to them, but I'm one of the little naysayers who doesn't even bother them. No definite philosophical aversion that I'm going to jam down your throats, I've just never felt the need for them. Simple apathy really.

Oh bollocks, I'm digressing ONCE AGAIN. Ahem. All right then. 2013.

First off, thirteen. The number has itself a bit of an unlovely rep. In the western world we have this undue obsession with thirteen being unlucky. In fact, in the later months of 2013, I was serving a customer - as my job requires - and as they had ordered food, I gave them an order number. It happened to be thirteen. So they said "Can I have another number?" Now I'm usually one to just bend over backwards and say "Yes, sir, of course, sir, no problem, whatever you like, sir." But I developed an affinity for thirteen in my old age. I happen to think it's a bit of a misunderstood number, the underdog that everyone should be rooting for. So my less-than-composed response was something along the lines of "Really?" The gentleman did not seem entirely impressed, especially when I tried to explain my off-hand objection in the context of my feelings towards thirteen. Epitomised by the serial number of my Colonial Fleet dogtags, 428813. I changed the number despite him apparently yielding to my defence of thirteen. Just to attempt to keep the customer happy, even though I'm 99.9% certain that he was distinctly unimpressed by the whole exchange.

But that's the latter half of 2013. Let's talk about the beginning. Now the last time I did a retrospective, I talked a lot about movies, babbled a little about books and went all gushing about people. Not sure if I'm going to do all of that, but there is some kind of abstract exploration I want to do. You see, when 2014 rolled around, I noted many people on the dread website Facebook noting how glad they were it was over. Indeed, I managed to blunder myself into one of my trademark hole-digging session on New Year's Day, just after the stroke of midnight, when I decided that there was really only one person I wanted to text and did so, expressing the sentiments to the effect of a hope that the coming year would prove as awesome as the last. Only to discover that in spite of several awesome things having happened to this person, a lot of crap happened afterwards. I sense, from the tidal wave of Facebook sighs of relief that many people felt that way about 2013.

Given my affinity for the number, I had some pretty high hopes that 2013 was going to be my year. It's been hinted and intimated on many an occasion (or maybe not, so some exposition will follow) that I have been attempting to woo/impress the object of my affections. First of all, object of my affections is an awfully unfortunate phrase. This person is not an object, they're a rather fantastic human being who on several occasions I was quite absolutely sure I'd completely blown it with. The beginning of the year being the first roll of a tiny snowball down the mountain, that eventually tumbled down and exploded at the end of June. Thank the Lords of Kobol that when it did, I discovered the lady in question did not in fact revile me or want me gone, they actually quite value my friendship and thus my affections have safely died away and some seem to be stirring elsewhere, but what becomes of that remains to be seen.

So, a little more geeky context. Earlier in 2013, I mentioned a television show called The Almighty Johnsons, the main thrust of which is the mortal incarnation of Odin seeking to reunited with his true love, the mortal incarnation of Frigg. Since watching the show, this has been something of a theme, the quest to find the Frigg to my Odin. Let's face it, if I could be Odin going around defeating frost giants and looking particularly badass with an eye-patch, it wouldn't be so bad. But I'm not exactly Odin, I just like the phrasing, "the Frigg to my Odin". Other potentials are "the Starbuck to my Apollo" and "the Holmes to my Watson". All in keeping with a theme of finding...companionship. I hesitate to say more because it feels a little too much like tempting the gods and they have an awfully annoying habit of making things awkward and pissing themselves laughing at the folly of mortals. That and it seems to me that there is a perception, nay even a prejudice, against those who seek to bestow affection on those they deem worthy of it. Phrases such as "You'll find it when you're not looking" are commonly thrown at you, should you dare to actually believe that you can find your Frigg. Or Odin. I can testify that things seem to work best when someone comes out of the clear blue sky, tearing through the little bubble world you've been in and drop-kicking you in all of the complicated feels, but nonetheless I do hope that I can find my Frigg. And if not, I can definitely say I've made some wonderful friends along the way.

AHEM. I think it's time to move swiftly on to a point that I've kind of been building up to. It's kind of a life philosophy. About six years ago, the world as I had wanted it to be crumbled down around me. The woman I believed I loved promptly turned around and jumped on some other donkey, dangling the false carrot of possible friendship as opposed to reconciliation and pretty much left me to emotionally bleed to death. Gods, that was awfully melodramatic. Anyway. As a result, I became even more of determinist in order to reconcile what had happened with the way I believe the world should be. Eventually, this evolved into a simple mantra - "Bad fortune is merely good fortune in a very clever disguise". Now in some cases, this is extremely hard to follow. I know because by sheer virtue of believing something, you invite others to criticise and challenge you. By way of example, 2013 put one of my friends through the absolute frakkin' ringer. Hades himself couldn't have been more sadistically evil in torturing them. Yet I believe that all that bad fortune, all the bad things that have happened, happened with good reason. It may not show itself immediately, but the reason is frakkin' out there.

Before this life philosophy attracts more raised eyebrows and strenuous objections, time to move on to the housekeeping. Well, the little details, more relevant to my journey through 2013. I've covered the big, nearly screwed-it-up-with-amazing-person-who-still-wants-to-be-my-friend, but 2013 wasn't all me bumbling around trying to love someone who loved me back, but only as a friend. In fact, in terms of my working life, 2013 was frakkin' epic. On the front of my paying job, I had a boss who unlike the last two jokers actually had the vaguest hint of a clue what they are doing. A revelation after the abject hell me and my colleagues had been through in the previous year. Then, as I mentioned in my last blog entry of 2013, I actually started and finished the first draft of my novel! Backtracking to the bad fortune/good fortune thing, I want to say that 2013 is almost...part one of a trilogy. Or maybe part two. Heck, it's Empire Strikes Back. The bad guys have one, the good guys are on the run, but all the crap we've been through, all the things that have happened good or bad have set us up for where we're going to be next. So 2014, if it turns out to be as awesome as everyone hopes, might just owe a frakton of thanks to 2013 for being so crap.

Also in 2013 where some other artistic, non-writing touches, but not by me. First of all, I had my first ever tattoo:


In keeping with my nerdiness and obsession with Battlestar Galactica, this is the Colonial symbol for Scorpia. To put it as simply as I hope I can, each of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol is named after the twelve constellations of the Zodiac. So, if you go by my logic, to figure out which colony you're from and which symbol is yours, look at this simple table, pick out your star sign and BOOM, that's your colony:

Aries - Aerilon.
Taurus - Tauron.
Gemini - Gemenon.
Cancer - Canceron.
Leo - Leonis.
Virgo - Virgon.
Libra - Libran.
Scorpio - Scorpia.
Sagittarius - Sagittaron.
Capricorn - Caprica.
Aquarius - Aquaria.
Picses - Picon.

For further information on the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, visit the helpful Battlstar Galactica wiki or, if you're in anyway obsessed with Galactica like me, go to Quantum Mechanix and buy the Map of the Twelve Colonies. It's where I took the symbol from that is now permanently inked on my arm. So say we all. Straight-faced this time. Also, photo credit goes to my colleague, call sign "Sonic" on account of his mohawk (not blue though), who as of Monday, 13th January 2014, has become my wingman. This could turn into a very interesting year...

The next subject of art is also in a similar tattoo vein. You see, I've wanted a tattoo for ages. Before I decided on the Scorpia Colonial symbol as my first tattoo, I came up with the idea of a dragon and a wolf in a Yin-Yang pattern. As luck would have it, I'm friends with a rather brilliant artist, Jennie Gyllblad. Click the name to discover her website and the brilliance of her work. Further good fortune smiled upon me, as she accepts commissions, so I commissioned her to design it. Now, given that I am something of a fan of The Song of Ice and Fire books and the associated television show, the design is a Targaryen dragon and a Stark direwolf. It now sits, beautifully framed, on my desk, right next to my computer. It looks (sans frame) a little something like the link you can click on which is these words. It is supremely beautifully awesome and much kudos goes to Jennie for her hard work and artistic genius. Still debating the tattooing of it upon my body, but by gods I still have an awesome piece of artwork to proudly display in my humble hall.

I suspect I have waffled on for a lot longer than I usually do and about subjects I don't usually waffle about, though I suppose that just goes to show that I feel a bit strongly about some of these things. Especially the bad fortune/good fortune thing. It's not the most popular life philosophy, mostly because people look on it as a cop-out, a cheap way of excusing bad things. It doesn't excuse them, barely explains them. What I hope it says, what I want to say to the people who have had a shit 2013, the people I care about who know who they are and will punch me repeatedly for being so stupidly sentimental, is that the bad things don't have to rule us. They happened because they needed to, to put us on the path we're on now. Hell, at the risk of getting myself shot, it's time for a final thought.

This year, I started out being completely in love with this incredible girl. I still love her in this moment right now, but I cannot stress enough how platonic that feeling is. She is my friend. For the very good reason that without falling in love with her, without expressing my feelings to her, putting myself through the ringer with own neuroses and insecurity, I could not be the man I am now. Slightly more confident than yesterday. Looking at 2014 with Mal's pistol strapped to his hip, the promise of Vera on the horizon (see QMx's Facebook page for context), high hopes for a Mk II Viper one day and hoping that maybe, just maybe, out there somewhere, is the Frigg to his Odin, the Starbuck to his Apollo.