The Hell Butterfly

Archive for April, 2014

Fuck ‘The Daily Mail’

In the words of Gerard Way: FUCK THE DAILY MAIL.

Yes, this is an angry post. It has been a long time since I was so pissed that I snarled audibly. Something has come to my attention today that has once again confirmed why The Daily Mail fucking sucks. Do not read on or click the link if you are easily riled, because The Daily Mail has a habit of doing things that get right under your skin. This is no exception.

And also, apologies for the formatting. WordPress has royally fucked this post and I can’t fix it. Sorry for this.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2613322/Sixth-form-pupil-16-hanged-home-viewing-death-metal-bands-YouTube.html

According to the above article, this teenage boy took his life as a cause of getting into his first serious relationship and listening to heavy metal:

A sixth-former who became introverted and withdrawn when he met his first girlfriend was found hanged after spending his final three hours searching for death metal songs on YouTube, an inquest heard.

Just because he liked the music and decided to spend his last few hours listening to it, DOES NOT MEAN in any form that heavy metal made him take his life. This is total bullshit.
Do not, for a second, think that death metal causes suicide. It is absolutely ridiculous to make this claim. You cannot, under any circumstances, make that accusation.
Further along in the article it tells of how he had, for a few weeks prior to his death, told friends about having suicidal thoughts. He had not sought medical attention, but a lot of people don’t. Especially that young. I should know. I’ve been there, done that, got the fucking t-shirt. Depression. It sucks. It is not easy seeking help. But for some, myself – and this boy too I imagine – included, help can be found in music. It may only be temporary, but it helps us get through a painful few hours. Perhaps this boy, and I make no claim to know what was happening in his mind, perhaps he tried listening to the music to quell his emotions. Perhaps it didn’t work, and he decided to go ahead with it. I don’t know.
But music does not cause suicide. Mental health problems are not the product of music.
God, this article makes my blood boil.
It goes on to say that his Dad, his own father, blames the music, the look, and the lifestyle for his suicide. The boy had grown out his hair, started wearing darker clothing, and taken a liking to death metal. And yet, instead of focusing on the part that says he was stressed over coursework and his home-life, they choose to point their fingers at the transformation of his physical appearance that started ONE YEAR before he died. This change was not overnight. How can you possibly place the blame for a tragic event like this on the personal choices of an individual to change their appearance over the space of a year. You should be looking at the things like the stress, the bullying, the emotional changes and struggles of adolescence. Not the long hair and eyeliner.
DEATH metal does not mean it causes death. It is just a genre. A label. It does not mean ‘go forth my child and hang yourself’.
The last time I was this angry over a Daily Mail article is when they blamed the suicide of teenager Hannah Bond on My Chemical Romance. This girl stated before she died that she was “off to join the Black Parade”. The Daily Mail then decided this meant that the band was a ‘suicide cult’ that promoted self-harm and suicide. This is un-fucking-believable. There is no truth in this statement. In fact, My Chemical Romance’s entire point, the thing they stood for the most, was to keep fighting, keep living, be strong and fuck the haters because you are beautiful. Many people, myself included, found themselves so inspired by that message that it prevented us from doing harm to ourselves. They saved our lives. And yet because of this one ignorant girl who felt that she had to take her life, The Daily Mail threw shit and blame at the band.
Music does not cause suicide. There are other factors. No single band or musician on this planet makes music with the intention of promoting self-harm and/or suicide. This is a lie. This is bullshit. And this is The Daily Mail at their best.
Never blame music for suicide.
If you are in pain, seek help. Seek it in music if you have to. Music saves lives, it does not take them.
Never, for one fucking second, try and say that death metal killed that boy.
Depression did. Nasty, vile, heart-breaking, terrifying, brutal Depression.
Please call 0800-SUICIDE if you need help.
And to you, Daily Mail, a message from Gerard.

 

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A Quick Return and a Quicker Exit

I failed miserably at NaPoWriMo. I got to day 5 and found I couldn’t write anymore. Unfortunately, with my creative failure came a sense of general worthlessness in the writing sense. I therefore stopped blogging for a while. For this I apologise.

I am now back from my Easter break. This is a double edged sword. Experience has taught me I don’t blog well at home, so being back here should help me to write more. On the other hand, I have deadlines. I just finished writing my first ever play for coursework #1. I’m actually quite pleased with this. However although I did have a post about the plot and planning of it, I have had to remove it in case the assessment board people do a search and find it. Although I know it is my own work and all my original ideas, they won’t. For this reason it’s gone. It will return though with the actual play at a (much) later date.

Coursework #’s 2 and 3 are yet to be started. #2 is Shakespeare, due on May 2nd. #3 is Victorian due May 7th. This is the final day of my second year. Until that day I’m going to be working my arse off to get it all done (and hopefully to a good standard). Until then I regret to say that The Hell Butterfly is going to be on a form of hiatus.

I have had the idea of ‘Music May’ in which I introduce you lovelies to the world of Nightcore. I have been making Youtube videos in which I make edits of songs. Some are traditional Nightcore, and some are male versions of female songs, known in some circles as Negative Nightcore. It’s been quite fun doing this and it will allow me to post something every day whilst introducing you to something I find interesting. It also means I can get on with my work without feeling bad about neglecting you and The Hell Butterfly family.

For now, I must bid you adieu. I am off to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream for coursework #2. Wish me luck.

Au reviour, mes amis.


NaPoWriMo: April 4 – Hear No Evil

Busy busy like a bee,

Noise always surrounding me,

Buzzing buzzing all the time

Makes me think I’ll lose my mind.

It’s hard to take it anymore,

Don’t think I’ll make it out the door

Of my external world of pain

That’s trying hard to shred my brain.

This hurt, this anger, every day

Is getting worse and I can’t say

That I will make it out alive

If I am forced to live this lie.

Pain pain pain pain in my head,

Now the noise wants me instead.

Knives knives burying themselves inside

The segments of my inner mind.

Cutting cutting cutting deep

And making me forget if sleep

Is help or hindrance to me now

That I can’t tell my up from down.

Constant constantly it drones

And makes me hurt and makes me moan

And forces me to figure out

If anything I write about

Is ever going to help me gain

Some sense of semblance here again.

The noise, the noise, it buries me.

It drives me to insanity.

And yet, the silence soothes my nerves.

It calms me. It restores the words.

Quiet. Quietly I stay

Here in this world of night and day.

The sun is harsh, the heat it burns,

But darkness, though it scares me, turns

The hum and bustle of waking hours

Into something that empowers.

I can do this if I just believe,

Tune out the noise, don’t panic,

Breathe.


NaPoWriMo: April 3 – Poetry is Hard

Can you spot the literary technique? Hey, hey, can you? Probably not, but that’s not important. NaPoWriMo #3 is all about the truth of trying to write poetry. In all it’s glory, this is Poetry is Hard.

People don’t understand the difficulty.

Over and over I try to piece the language together.

Every time it gets harder

To state profoundly a message to the world.

Really, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Yet I keep trying.

I fail often,

Scrap more often still. Paper baseballs in the bin.

How can we continue to create in this world of language mutation?

Anyone would think we’d forgotten how.

Rarely do I now find myself interweaving hidden messages in imagery.

Don’t underestimate the craft: poetry is hard.


NaPoWriMo: April 2 – To Be a Warrior

I know it looks like I failed already, but I swear I haven’t. I’m already struggling, I can’t lie, but I did write a poem for NaPoWriMo yesterday. I just didn’t have internet connection. So today will be a double whammy to catch up. Not sure whether I like this one, but hopefully as I get into my stride throughout April my later ones will get better. For now, this is To Be a Warrior.

 

To know if you’re a warrior is easy. Simply think.

A warrior protects something, no matter what it is:

The friend, the family, money, pride, belief or country, love.

A warrior that fights the best has often one of the above.

So figure out which one it is that you fight to protect.

Use it as your will to fight, to the fight your face direct.

If in your contemplation you find out that you don’t know

What it is you go to battle for, a weakness, here, you show.

If you fight to protect something your sword or gun is strong,

But if you fight not knowing why, on the field you don’t belong.

You have to fight for something, there’s a reason that we do,

Because if out there you lose your focus you’re killing me and you.

Hesitate you die. Turn back you die. So in your mind be wise.

Don’t take the sword, the gun, the bow if you don’t have a ‘why’.

Fight because you love your country, fight to stay alive,

Fight because you like it or fight for your own pride,

Fight because you cannot stand to hear those awful screams,

Fight for the future that will help you to achieve your dreams,

But if you cannot find a reason to take your weapon up,

Stay out of the way of those who haven’t given up.

Go home, get out of here, just leave, as I don’t want to die.

I know my reason for being here, I have no cause to cry.

I tell you: leave, don’t enter into this if you can’t fight,

Because if your weakness gets me killed, I’ll haunt your afterlife.

A warrior has their reasons to fight for what they know.

So stay and fight for something too, or turn around and go,

And if you choose to take that sword, or gun, or bow in hand,

Stand proud here by my side, my friend. Let us protect this land.


NaPoWriMo: April 1 – My Ancestor’s Battlefield

So I heard about NaPoWriMo and thought I’d give it a crack. A poem a day, how hard can it be, right? I think this is where I grin nervously and hide my apprehension behind a laugh. I hope I haven’t already posted this, but I couldn’t think up anything new today. I’ll have a go at something new tomorrow but for now, here is My Ancestor’s Battlefield. It’s a tribute to my Great-Grandad, Archibald.

And the ringing in my ears is deafening.
The silence oppressive.
As the shrapnel from the mortar
Rains death upon the foliage
I grip my M1 Carbine;
Beg survival from the ender of life;
Glance at my frozen hand,
Crimzon beneath the fire that burns
Beside and above me in the trees.
One falls.
My friends, Jamie? Adam?
Archibald. My Corporal.
7th Battalion, Hampshire Regiment.
His sockets like trenches.
Dark. Empty.

Guests to an unintended feast
Aim high, duck low, and scream.
I follow them.
Watch them.
We never learn.

Tainted sunset breathing
Grey over Holland. Circles and stalks us.
Ambushed.
Now they’re back for me.
The Party begins again,
And it’s my turn to dance with the Devil.