back on the diamond rant

One of those personality spam emails is circulating around my group of friends at the moment. You know the ones with questions like:
What time did you get up this morning?
What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
What is your favourite TV show?
What did you have for breakfast?
yada yada yada

Well for most of us, the answer to latest movie seen is Blood Diamond and it is with a slight feeling of horror that I have now seen two of my friends answer the question Diamonds or Pearls? with 'diamonds'. I'm trying to calm down a bit before I write an email so that I come out with something a little more polite than:

Dear valued but obviously slightly mentally deficient friend,
Maybe I'm the deficient one here but weren't we at the same movie? Which bit didn't you get? How the diamond trade is effecting the regions? How diamonds are stored away to keep the price high? How you can't really tell if it's a 'conflict diamond' or not because of how they get processed?
WTF?!?!!
A xox

One of my friend's comments after coming out of that movie was along the lines of, "I'm glad that it was mentioned in there that part of the horror is these people doing it to themselves because everywhere you go you always here white people get blamed." She's from South Africa so I understand that they are touchy about people assuming they're all racist and yes, the people of diamond regions are killing off their own people but now I'm worried that that is all they (but they I mean all my SA buddies) saw. Are there people out there thinking, "I'm white, I'm not to blame because of what they (by which I mean the native people of the area) do to each other? It's their war/reign of terror and if I buy a 'non-conflict diamond' I've done my part of my conscience is clean." Is that what they're thinking? Sure, even if there was nothing of value in that area, children might still be made into soldiers and all those atrocities might still be committed but surely taking a demand for diamonds out of the market might help? Some might argue the two things, the war in the region and the diamond trade, are unrelated, that your £1000 necklace has nothing to do with babies running around killing people. But are you totally sure?

I've been so busy of late that I've been mega-remiss in reading my usual blogs. One that has suffered is HongKong Ham, the blog of my former boss from Critic. Reading it again today I was struck by the winsome and endearing nature of most of Hamish's entries. It's a genuinely pleasurable read (don't let it go to your head Hamham...) and it was something I didn't even realise I was missing. I was also glad to see that Hamish was also effected by Blood Diamond. Because after the reaction of my friends, I was starting to think it was just a me and Dad thing. It's not. Phew. Every now and then I tend to see things in stark black and white (a trait I know I get from my Dad) and I'm usually more of a shades-of-grey girl so when I come across these B&W issues, I can get a bit surprised at how adamant and blinkered I can be. Something is suddenly RIGHT or WRONG and people that can't understand that are STUPID or BLIND or INCOMPETENT. Which, surprisingly enough, is not my usual attitude to life.

builders
I wonder if there is some international workmen's pledge that you have to take before you're allowed to put on your high-vis vest and wonder around with your pants sitting too low and wielding a power tool. It probably goes along the lines of, "Please repeat after me: I do solemnly swear to show my butt crack to the world and stare and female passers by. I understand that it is my right yell out lewd comments or to make similar comments in a normal tone of voice. As soon as I see someone coming, I pledge to stop doing all work and take a tea break."

This morning I was walking to the train and passed two workmen just standing on a corner. I had my iPod in and was listening to a very random mix that my sister complied for me. Just as I was coming up to them, Goldfrapp's White Horse started playing and as I walked past I KNOW I heard one of them say something dodgey. This is where Little Aynia Brain branched into a Calvin and Hobbes styled reality with three options. 1- I walk back and in a movie-styled-way, the music from my iPod swells to fill the air around us and I just dance my ass off in front of them. 2- I walk back, calmly take out one of my headphones and say, "I'm sorry, did you say something?" (Delivered, for those in the know, in icy-cold Aynia Tone complete with pursed lips and raised eyebrow.) 3- I ignore them and carry off down the street but I'm kinda half dance-walking. I was pretty close to option 3 anyway. I'm pretty sure that some songs on my iPod start me walking with a bit of a skip or a strut, it seems I can't help myself. I do manage to stop short of sashaying down the high street complete with jazz hands and spirit fingers though. Thank heavens for small mercies...