Tuesday, 16 April 2013

Synth drum

I've spent the day finessing music for the White City project, wondering if I'm wrecking one of the tracks by adding drums to it. Hearing everything on nasty computer sounds can start to grate a little after a while, and before you know it you've lost all sense of objectivity. 

There was also half a tonne of admin which needed to be done today; booking players, planning sessions, sending music, writing quiz questions, sending out invitations, talking to the Arts Council. I also need to get my head around what I might do once this present job's done and dusted. The problem with freelancers is that we don't get the chance to relax. Everyone says to treat the periods of rest like holidays, but being on holiday means not working and not working means not earning. Dull, dull, dull.

I might actually sign on for a little bit and try and write something epic. I've always believed that the benefits system is there for short-term use. It doesn't really work to sign on longterm when you're single and living in London without children. It's very difficult to survive for long on the payments they offer. 

There's been a lot on the news recently about benefit caps, and, without wishing to sound like a fascist, I've been astonished by quite how much people are receiving when children are added into the equation. One woman on the telly was getting £280 a week in various benefits and £320 a week in housing benefit. That's £600 a week, which is more than I've ever earned!  It's awful to say, but no wonder some people opt for children instead of jobs - and it annoys me intensely. There's a sort of attitude with quite a lot of people that by having children they're doing the world a favour, when in my view the opposite is the truth. By all means have children, but only if you can afford them, and don't expect to live in expensive towns and nice houses in posh streets if you can't. The woman who was receiving£600 a week was whinging about the fact that benefits capping meant she was going to have to leave her beloved London, and my attitude was, "so get a job, or leave London!" It seems very simple. The fewer people we have to trip over in this city, the better, and frankly, if we're poor, we don't get to call the shots. And that is coming from a man who is officially in the bottom 10% of earners in this country. 

This, of course, on the eve of Thatcher's funeral. Anyone reading this reactionary blog entry would be forgiven for assuming that I'll be mourning her passing tomorrow. I won't. Not in the slightest. She was a cow.

I've recently discovered that the Arts Council have had £10m cut from their annual budget.

...Now how much did that woman's funeral cost? Gosh, what I could give to the world with £10 million...

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