Since its first issue in June 2009, Filament’s readership, distribution and advertising has grown steadily. More people are reading Filament than ever before and according to our recent readership survey, you think it’s getting more awesome.

It may seem strange against this backdrop, that I am announcing that Issue 9, the next issue of Filament, due out 1 December 2011, will be the last. My reasons are entirely personal. Perhaps this is also the right time, because we are finishing on a high.

To answer some questions you may have:

• I’m a subscriber. Will I receive my money back for the issues I haven’t received? Yes. However, this is labour-intensive for us, with over 1000 subscriptions to individually refund. We aim to complete this process by 30 June 2012. If you don’t want to be refunded, please email hello@filamentmagazine.com and let us know.
• Will Filament continue as a website? Not as such, but we plan to try and put most of our past content up on www.filamentmagazine.com and will add articles as exciting and relevant topics come up, so please keep following our feeds. We will also continue to sell issues through the website until they run out. Our stockists will also be getting in Issue 9 as normal, and will continue to sell Filament until they run out.
• Couldn’t someone else take over as editor of Filament? It’s doubtful, for various reasons that I can’t go into.
• Perhaps a company would want to buy the magazine? We have had offers, but always from those who seek to turn Filament into something that doesn’t seem consistent with the reasons you have told us that you like Filament.

I know that Filament means a lot to many of you. At various events I’ve had readers approach me to thank me, with tears in their eyes. This makes me feel proud, but also incredibly sorry that I can’t continue this for you.

This is not the end of the ideas behind Filament. Increasing numbers of projects that count Filament as an inspiration seem to be appearing, Andro Aperture, The Badlands Burlesque, Men of the Stacks and The Naked Muse to name but a few. There are others in the planning stages. So perhaps this isn’t the end, but the beginning.

Thank you for making Filament such a wonderful thing.

Suraya
Editor
Filament Magazine

PS. If you want to make sure you get a copy of the final issue, pre-order it now.
PPS. If you’re a subscriber and you’ve moved house since our last issue in June, please email us your new address. Even if you’re getting your mail redirected, stuff gets missed sometimes.

Overall winner
Extended vocal techniques by Toby Carlisle – wins £100 cash

Runners up
The siren on the shore by Victoria Kurylak – wins £50 cash
On the road by Elle Fox – wins £50 cash

Highly commended
The cellist by Tracy Tidswell
Getting heavy by Emmy van Ewyk

The winner and runners up will be published in Issue 9 – The Music Issue – now available for pre-order.

We’re also sharing one of our runner-up stories with you in full, for free – On the road by Elle Fox.

Thanks to all those who entered for sharing their wonderful work with us. Please keep writing and keep submitting.

Author Elle Fox
Illustrator Katie Hewitt

Christian lies on the hard van floor, battered road cases at his feet, and waits. There’s a stink of unwashed clothes, cigarettes and spilled beer, and nothing between him and rank carpet but a thin blanket. The road hums beneath him; Drew’s driving and he’s got the stereo on low, tuned to some local station that played one decent song three hours ago. Either he’s lost interest in finding a better option or he’s still got faith they’ll play some more Led Zep.

Christian stares at the wall of the van, listening. Lewis is under, his steady even breaths drifting down from the seat above Christian’s head. Zack, he’s not sure about. They can’t call the run of ten shows they’re doing a real tour, but it feels like one, right down to the complete lack of privacy.

When Zack hasn’t made a sound in what feels like forever, Christian bites his lip and rolls away from him. He lets the blanket tent between his hip and the floor, hoping for cover – that and the darkness, peppered by the orange glow of streetlights.

‘Jesus Christ, it’s not Christian’s fault – he’s eighteen; he can spring a boner watching anime.’

He concentrates on keeping his breathing quiet, staring at the stickers on his guitar case. He slides a hand downwards, pressing a palm over the crotch of his jeans. Fuck, he’s still so hard. They’ll be driving all night and it was such a rush to leave that he couldn’t just grab five minutes to sort himself out. He’s been less than useless ever since, scoring a glare from Lewis when he nearly dropped his snare while loading up. Zack just gave him a grin and a sideways look, like he knows. Jesus Christ, it’s not Christian’s fault – he’s eighteen; he can spring a boner watching anime. He can’t be expected to keep himself under control, let alone remember the words, when he has a real live person pressed up against his back, licking his neck. Even if it is on stage at a shitty basement club, with a guitar caught between them.

Carefully, he slips the button on his jeans and slides the zip down real slow. It still makes a noise and Christian winces, hoping it gets lost under the sound of the road. He rests his hand over the damp cotton of his underwear, stretched over his dick. The weight feels good, not enough, but it’s something.

‘He is not going to think about Zack. Except he already is, because thinking about not thinking about Zack is still thinking about Zack.’

Fucking Zack. He is not going to think about Zack. Except he already is, because thinking about not thinking about Zack is still thinking about Zack.

This is totally Zack’s fault. In front of the mob of kids more interested in the punk band playing after them and right in the middle of Drew’s solo, he’d come up behind Christian, leaned in and opened his mouth on his neck. He’d pressed his tongue in the hollow just under Christian’s ear, giving him goose bumps and sending heat to his cheeks and his groin.

Fuck, who does that?

So what if Zack was just fucking around? Either way the outcome was the same. Luckily Christian had his guitar to hide behind.

He glances over his shoulder at Zack. Zack’s eyes are closed, mouth slack, breathing even. He’s finally asleep, thank fuck. Christian shifts his hand, inside his underwear now, and fuck that feels good. There isn’t really enough room for his hand to move much, but it’s skin on skin and he’s so desperate it’s close enough.

Curling his fingers into a grip, he starts to stroke, slow and quiet. It’s hard to keep his breathing even, swallow the moans growing in the back of his throat. He slides his other hand up to rest on his neck, fingers tracing that hollow behind his ear. His fingers aren’t wet or warm enough to resemble a mouth, but he keeps going anyway.

His eyes scrunch closed, his brow furrows and he bites his lip. He squeezes as he strokes, heat pooling deep in his belly, the urgency of a long-delayed release starting to win out over all his self-imposed warnings about silence and discretion. The hand on his neck finds its way to his mouth and sucks on two fingers before pressing them back to that spot behind his ear. Fingers damp, he can almost convince himself it’s Zack’s tongue, remembering the hot breath on his neck.

He’s not supposed to be thinking about Zack.

His thumb hits that sensitive spot on the underside of his cock and he chokes back a whine. Fuck that’s good, too good. He does it again, tensing his stomach to keep his hips from jerking. It sets off sparks behind his eyes, illuminating an image of himself on stage, Zack pressed up behind him, no instruments this time. It’s just Zack’s tongue on his neck, his hand reached around into Christian’s pants and fuck, Christian has to press his mouth into his forearm to stifle a moan because Zack is right behind him. He could hear him.

They go over a pothole and the van shakes. Christian freezes, his eyes flying open. He lies there, hand on his dick, listening for clues that anyone woke up. There’s nothing but the low mutter of the radio, the rumble of road noise and two sets of deep, even breathing.

‘Christian freezes, his eyes flying open. He lies there, hand on his dick, listening for clues that anyone woke up.’

He twists his head to the side to look behind him and comes face to face with Zack. Zack is staring at him with knowing eyes, like he wasn’t just asleep. Christian’s immediately aware of his flushed face, his hand still attached to his neck, the wet mouth-mark on his forearm.

‘Trouble sleeping?’ Zack whispers.

Maybe if Christian doesn’t move, it’ll be like pressing pause on a DVD and he won’t have to deal with the next part.

This plan doesn’t take into account Zack, who slides across the few inches of floor between them, pressing himself warm up against Christian’s back, one arm resting across Christian’s chest, over the blanket.

Christian can’t move. He lies there, bottom lip caught in his teeth and prays Zack will stay above the blanket.

Zack doesn’t. Before Christian can make a sound, Zack burrows beneath the blanket. His breath hits Christian’s neck as his hand finds his shoulder, fingers tracing slowly down his arm to find his hand. The hand that is still on his dick.

Christian’s breath comes out in a rush. He can’t hold still anymore. He tries to rip his hand away but Zack keeps him there, scissoring their hands so Zack’s fingers are between his own, touching his cock, fuck.

‘He tries to rip his hand away but Zack keeps him there, scissoring their hands so Zack’s fingers are between his own, touching his cock, fuck.’

There’s a low chuckle in his ear, carried on a hot breath. ‘Thought so,’ Zack says, and tightens his grip on Christian’s hand. He pulls their joined hands up, stroking him and Christian has to bite down on his palm, silence the scream in the back of his throat.

Zack forces their hands down and back up again. It feels so much better than Christian’s own lonely hand. He bites down harder on his palm, eyes slitted, trying to think, to speak.

‘Zack,’ his voice is muffled against his palm.

‘Shhhh…’ Zack’s breath paints the back of his neck, lips touching skin now. He’s so close to that spot behind Christian’s ear, where it’s still wet with his own saliva. Christian’s heart hammers in his chest, heat buzzing through him. He’s dazed, almost high.

Zack’s hand keeps guiding Christian’s, and he lets it happen. His breath hitches out as Zack’s finger crooks, finding that spot under his cockhead, sending zings all up his body.

‘Zack,’ Christian’s not sure if the whisper is an encouragement or a warning. Zack’s grin presses against his neck and he knows it doesn’t matter either way.

Zack opens his mouth on Christian’s neck, his tongue licking out to press flat right behind his ear. Right there. Christian whimpers, bucking into their joined hands. Zack strokes faster, working their hands over Christian’s dick, licking and sucking on his neck. He grinds against Christian’s back, hard against him through their clothes, not hiding how much he’s getting off on this.

‘Zack strokes faster, working their hands over Christian’s dick, licking and sucking on his neck.’

Christian’s eyelids flutter and he can’t help the way he presses back against Zack. He has no idea if he’s being quiet enough, but he can’t think beyond fuck, Zack’s hands, fuck-fuck-fuck.

Zack makes a frustrated noise and pulls Christian’s hand away, using just his own and it’s suddenly so much better. He rolls Christian onto his back, leaning over him, all dark eyes and wet mouth as he looks at Christian’s sweaty face and damp hair. Christian’s skin prickles as cool air gets in under the blanket. Christian wants to pull it up again, cover himself, but Zack’s leaning down, his eyes intense in the dark until the moment right before he kisses Christian.

It’s not the first time Zack’s kissed him, but it’s the first time he’s done it with a hand on Christian’s dick, so it’s kind of a big deal. Christian’s beyond fighting it; he just accepts Zack’s tongue in his mouth, tasting of his own salty skin, kissing Zack back with all the heat he’s got.

Zack’s lips move over his, sucking, nipping, his chest brushing against Christian’s as he speeds his hand between them. Christian’s dick is slick with pre-come now, lending slide to Zack’s hand, making Christian’s hips buck underneath him. Zack angles his hand just right and fuck, fuck, that’s it, Christian’s losing it, he’s gone.

He arches up under Zack, choked breaths leaking into their kiss as his hips stutter and he comes, hot all over Zack’s hand. Struggling for breath, he pries his eyes open to find Zack looking down at him and his breath short as he wipes his hand off on Christian’s stomach. He fumbles with his own jeans and before Christian’s even caught his breath, Zack’s jerking himself off under the blanket, face inched and desperate. He mutters to himself as his body shifts over Christian’s, ‘So hot, so… fuck, Jesus. Christian. Fuck.’

It’s hypnotic, the way Zack’s eyes flutter, the way he bites his lip between whispers. Christian can’t move for long moments, just watches his bandmate come apart above him, sweating and panting, on display.

Christian can’t move for long moments, just watches his bandmate come apart above him, sweating and panting, on display.

It’s not until Zack’s muttered whispers narrow to a single word repeated – Christian’s name – that he moves. He presses himself up off the floor to meet Zack’s mouth, his lips muffling Zack’s moan of satisfaction. He kisses Zack hard, pressing his tongue into his mouth as his sticky hand finds its way to Zack’s, replacing it on Zack’s cock. It’s weird to touch another guy’s cock from this angle – let alone Zack’s, but it feels good, the skin hot and velvety under his fingers. He only gets a handful more strokes in before Zack comes above him, hips stuttering, strangled noises leaking into their kiss.

Come drips down onto Christian’s stomach and Zack collapses onto his side, panting into Christian’s neck. They lie there for
long moments, fighting to get enough air into their lungs. Christian’s skin starts to cool and he worries about how loud they were – about what they just did.

‘Jesus, Zack,’ he whispers, not sure what else to say.

‘Hey, you started it,’ Zack mutters into his neck, his voice liquid.

‘Actually, you started it,’ Christian points out, a little annoyed.

Zack just grins into Christian’s skin and licks that spot behind his ear again. On purpose, because he’s an asshole.

‘Yeah okay,’ Zack whispers, his breath feathering over the wet mark on Christian’s neck. ‘I’ll cop to this. I totally take responsibility.’

He slides a sticky hand into Christian’s, entwining their fingers, all warm against Christian’s side. Christian doesn’t manage to get his jeans done up before he falls asleep.

Author Elle Fox is an Australian living in London. She makes her living in the film industry. Writing smut is her passionate hobby. Illustrator Katie Hewitt is a New Zealand born, London based illustrator who dabbles in web development and graphic design.

This story is one runner-up in the Filament magazine Issue 9 fiction contest. Order that issue here to read the other winning stories.

Tea cake

This is a subtly-flavoured, tender-crumbed sponge cake. It is quick to make and is suitable for dairy-free diets, too. The acid in the tea helps to ensure the delicate texture. We used a tea called Notting Hill, made by London-based tea company YumChaa. It’s a black tea scented with apricot, strawberry, marigold flowers and cornflowers. To pick up the apricot flavour, we used apricot jam as the cake’s filling. If you don’t have, or don’t fancy, anything quite so exotic, try using a scented, light black tea – Lady Grey would be ideal – then use lemon curd to sandwich the layers together.

Ingredients

• 2 tspn scented black tea
• 75ml (2.5 fl oz) water
• 3 eggs
• 125g (4 oz) caster sugar
• 75ml (2.5 fl oz) flavourless oil (for example, sunflower)
• 175g (6 oz) self-raising flour
• 2 tbsp jam

Method

1. Begin by brewing 75ml (2.5 fl oz) of tea and then allowing it to cool.
2. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees celsius (350 degrees fahrenheit, gas mark 4) and grease two 20 cm (8 inch) cake pans.
3. Whisk the eggs, preferably with an electric mixer, until they are light and fluffy, then whisk in the sugar.
4. When the tea has cooled, whisk in the oil. It should form an emulsion and resemble salad dressing.
5. Fold half the flour into the egg, followed by half of the tea mixture; repeat and ensure that everything is mixed thoroughly. Don’t be too heavy-handed with it – air bubbles in the mix make the cake light.
6. Divide the mixture between the two cake pans and place in the centre of the oven for 30 to 35 minutes. When the cakes are cooked an inserted skewer will come out clean.
7. Allow the cakes to cool before sandwiching together with jam and serving with tea of your choice.

Recipe Daniella Bowker and Catherine Currie
Photograph Libby Bulloff
Model Maxx Sundquist

This recipe appeared in Filament Magazine Issue 4. Unfortunately that issue is now sold out, but you can still grab our latest issue.

Many people’s understanding of Ketamine amounts to something like a memory of a man passing out on top of their tent at a music festival while they were inside it, followed by a friend of his muttering, ‘Sorry, too much Special K,’ while leading him off to a safe place. This sort of experience, along with the oft-repeated, ‘Horse tranquiliser, isn’t it?’ seems baffling in the face of Ketamine’s widespread popularity. According to Morgan, Muetzelfeldt and Curran’s recent research on Ketamine use, cognition and psychological well-being, Ketamine use has increased from 3.9% to 16% among club users in recent years.

Emerging from anaesthesia

Used as an anaesthetic for soldiers in the Vietnam War, Ketamine soon became a wanted street commodity.

Hitting first the New Age American psychonauts (those who partake in the use of psychotropic drugs), notably astrologer and yoga teacher Marcia Moore and psychoanalyst Dr John C Lilly in the 1970s, and spreading slowly around the world, the out-of-body and near-death experiences described by people coming out of anaesthesia became too tempting for the curious to resist. According to www.drugs-forum.com, the dance culture of the 1980s saw a significant rise in the use of Ketamine, from Goa to Ibiza to the street scene of Russia. It is supposed that Ketamine was largely obtained through theft from hospitals, care centres and veterinary surgeries, often by inside sources. Ketamine, generally sold as a powder or liquid, only became a schedule III drug at federal level across the US in 1999, classified as Class A in Canada in 2005 and Class C in the UK in 2006.

‘The out-of-body and near-death experiences described by people coming out of anaesthesia became too tempting for the curious to resist.’

Strange effects

Ketamine is usually sold as a powder, which is insuflated (snorted), swallowed (bombed) or rarely, injected

Ketamine is used in vets and hospitals around the world as an anaesthetic, and in palliative care – the care of people where recovery is not expected – as a form of pain relief. At doses of over 100mg, the user can enter otherworldly states, such as out-of-body experiences (OBEs) and even near-death experiences (NDEs). These experiences have been extensively researched by Drs Karl Jansen and Ornella Corazza. Their books, Ketamine: dreams and realities, and Near death experiences: exploring the mind-body connection respectively, provide fascinating insights into the world of the Ketamine user, making it clear that Ketamine is a unique drug. There are many correlating accounts of users experiencing a bright light at the end of the tunnel, a trip to the riverside which has no bridge to cross or a meeting with God. Feelings of oneness, well-being, of no distinction between opposites, of being dead or alive are all recurrent themes.

‘Ketamine was largely obtained through theft from hospitals, care centres and veterinary surgeries, often by inside sources.’

An infrequent user wrote me his own account of an experience of Ketamine:

‘My current life is a happy one, filled with hedonistic pleasures and disobedience of the status quo, so to be greeted by a God-like figure whilst engaged in sexual deeds with a friend was a most unexpected experience. My God was facially androgynous in appearance – a gorgeous mix of female and male beauty, in what I can only describe as the most beautiful face I have ever set eyes on. Alas, my God left my vision after around a 10 or 20 seconds, but enough to envelop me in a soothing amber glow for the remainder of our sexual liaison. I have never experienced in the 15 years or so that I have experimented with narcotics something quite so profound.’

This experience is positive one. Like all drugs, others report negative experiences, such as this woman in her 20s:

‘As soon as I had snorted the stuff, I felt a kind of nervous energy, and my mind melded into my surroundings. The fluffy carpet I was staring at intently became very interesting to look at, the darker shades next to the white ones. I went down a tunnel into the carpet itself, and couldn’t see my friends anywhere. I started to panic, and wanted to be close to someone, but it seemed I was on my own. I couldn’t wait to get back to the party I had come to, and wished I had never taken it. I couldn’t decide whether I was dead or alive, whether it was night or day. I was lost. I don’t think I want to lose control like that again.’

Users refer to dissociative experiences which take them down a tunnel through patterns, ‘entering a K-hole’

Ketamine, addiction and health
Curran and Monaghan investigated the acute and residual effects of Ketamine in frequent and infrequent users. They found out that temporary episodic and semantic memory loss may last for up to three days after use, but no evidence of lasting effects. Morgan, Muetzelfeldt and Curran also found no differences in brain activity between frequent and infrequent Ketamine users. Short term psychological effects they noted included increased levels of delusion and dissociation, which disappeared after cessation. Some sites like ketamine.com, ketaminebladdersyndrome.com and www.drugnet.net warn that Ketamine may be a precursor to schizophrenia, paranoia and organ damage. Similarly, some sites such as www.drugnet.net and www.clearhavencenter.com warn of Ketamine addiction. Researchers have found out that Ketamine is not physically addictive, but may be psychologically addictive. D M Turner, who recorded his experiences on Ketamine in The essential psychedelic guide said, ‘Since (a previous time) I’ve used Ketamine only occasionally, but find that I must continually exercise a high degree of will power to prevent myself from falling into a pattern of regular use. Amongst those I know who use K, I have seen very few who can use it in a balanced manner if they have access to it.’

‘Dr John Lilly had once fallen into a river, from which he was luckily fished out, which had perhaps inspired him to invent a safe place that he called the Lilly tank from which he would enjoy his K-hole.’

A good or bad trip
Dr Jansen mentions that the setting (ie, the place where the drug is taken) and the mood of the user are important in determining whether the trip will be a positive or negative experience. He also mentions that the likelihood of users reporting a tunnel experience,

Impaired vision and lack of judgement of distances may lead the user to fall over and hit the ground

www.drugs-forum.com warns that Ketamine can be ‘cut’ (mixed) with other substances, such as salt, sugar or caffeine. You must be aware that the intense trip you have may last up to an hour, but the effects of feeling high may not wear off for three days, according to Curran and Monaghan.

Researching this article has made Ketamine’s widespread popularity more understandable to me; there’s clearly more to it than its nickname ‘horse tranquiliser’ would suggest. If you are tempted to try Ketamine, make an informed decision by reading widely, follow the safety advice and try not fall on anyone else’s tent.

Author Emily Wright is a teacher of English, the mother of a small fearless child and an occasional contributor to Love is the law online magazine. Find out more about illustrator Melanie Tahata at www.aotearoa666.com.

Tristan, 31, Hendon, London

How was the shoot?
Very good, thanks! I had a lot of fun. As you can see, it was a good chance to splash about.

Why did you decide to do it?
It’s something I’ve always fancied doing – I guess I’m just a bit of an exhibitionist.

You’re a DJ. What’s your favourite music to deliver to your audience, right now?
I love all kinds of music – there’s not many genres I wouldn’t play, but right now I’m most feeling what I would term cosmic disco – electronic, spacey stuff, the sort of thing that sounds great in the open air in the summer.

And what would you not let them know you liked in a million years?
Haha! A guy in a shop recently questioned my sanity when I bought a Demis Roussos record. Demis Roussos made a couple of great but obscure disco tunes in the late 70s, notably I dig you. Though I have played some out, I imagine the audience didn’t twig who it was at the time, because I wasn’t bottled off.

Have you ever had a threesome?
Ha! Yes, I have, both kinds! I think with threesomes it’s all about balance and whether the people involved are enough into each other to make it not awkward. I’ve had some fun though, I have to say!

The shower scene is very sexy. Water is set to be an increasingly scarce commodity in the coming decades. Should water be a human right or would paying for it encourage us to value it?
That’s a very good question! I suppose an ideal solution would be that we should be allocated a certain amount of free water, enough for cleaning, bathing, cooking and drinking, and be charged when we use over that amount.

Finally, what’s for breakfast?
I used to live in Wales, and there was a great café in Aberystwyth that did a ‘vegetarian mega breakfast’. I don’t really do breakfast by halves – it’s one of the three most important meals of the day!

This shoot first appeared in Issue 4. Sorry, we don’t show any of our explicit content on our website. If you’d like to see something a little more revealing, why not order the latest issue.

The human brain is still a largely unmapped organ. We use our whole brain, not the widely reported 10%, but we do not necessarily all use our brains in the same way. Your brain is a route map of your life, but for some of us the journey is different to others. In the case of disabilities that act within the brain, such as cerebral palsy and autistic spectrum conditions, the brain functions differently to most.

My son Jack was born in 2006, nine weeks premature. Nineteen months later he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy and an autistic spectrum condition (ASC). There had been no indication during the pregnancy that anything was amiss.

‘There had been no indication during the pregnancy that anything was amiss.’

Cerebral palsy is an ‘insult’ to the brain, meaning it is something that damages the brain in some way. For Jack, this happened while his brain was still developing. We don’t know what caused the damage, but it seems likely, going by current research, that it stemmed from his early arrival or an in utero infection. Adults can also develop cerebral palsy through accident or illness.

Faulty wiring
Damaged brains or brains that do not develop correctly cannot regenerate, but other parts of the brain may compensate for lost function. Jack’s cerebral palsy acts is like faulty electrical wiring, sending incorrect pulses to nerves in his muscles. In a normally-wired nervous system, an electrical impulse is sent to the muscles, which contract together in response, like a single flash. Jack’s electrical impulses are more like a shower of sparks, causing his muscles to work irregularly. If this is not addressed through physiotherapy or exercises, muscles can become overdeveloped or permanently weakened, causing bone deformity. Many people with cerebral palsy experience problems with overdeveloped muscles developing ‘spasticity’, which is where the derogatory term ‘spastic’ comes from.

‘Jack’s cerebral palsy acts is like faulty electrical wiring, sending incorrect pulses to nerves in his muscles.’

The faults in the brain’s wiring can be mild or severe, with children having very different outlooks. Jack has mild to moderate cerebral palsy, in that he can eat, breathe, has a good use of all his limbs and has the ability to make sounds, but he is only just walking at three years old and cannot communicate verbally yet. Cerebral palsy is non-progressive and life outcomes vary massively. Many have normal or above-average intelligence and cognitive development, limited only in their physical development.

Different wiring
Autistic spectrum conditions are often described as a developmental or behavioural disorder, and is 12 times more likely to be diagnosed in boys than girls. The causes of autism are still under debate, but there is a strong genetic correlation — siblings of people with autism being more likely to be diagnosed as being on the spectrum.

‘An autistic brain is wired completely differently. Autistically-wired people often find logic or science very easy to understand, but social situations confusing and difficult.’

An autistic brain is wired completely differently. Autistically-wired people often find logic or science very easy to understand, but social situations confusing and difficult. In more extreme cases, the brain has limited abilities to filter out the constant stimulation of the external world, and strategies are developed to help the individual cope with the vast amount of information they are receiving. Jack experiences social situations like a game that he doesn’t yet know the rules of. He finds open-ended questions such as ‘what do you want?’ bewildering, but can easily choose between a selection of identified variables. In one assessment Jack was in a room with a yellow and a red chair and asked ‘which do you prefer?’ He put his yellow brick on the yellow chair, his red brick on the red chair, then sat on the floor and grinned, because as he saw it, he’d made a logical decision in a chaotic situation.

The medical model of disability
It’s usually in the medical context that parents first come into contact with ways of approaching disability. We had the full works: consultants were called in, curtains were drawn around the cubicle and everyone spoke in very hushed tones. When finally told that Jack had cerebral palsy, I felt so relieved to learn that he wasn’t going to die then and there. Thirty years ago we might have been asked if we wanted him sent to an institution.

‘Thirty years ago we might have been asked if we wanted him sent to an institution.’

The medical model of disability sees a ‘disabled person’, a normally functioning individual with a problem or defect that stops them participating in everyday life. The medical system then offers various solutions and ways to normalise this person. Children with Down’s Syndrome may be offered surgery to trim protruding tongues or reshape their eyes. Doctors may offer children with cerebral palsy Botox to relax joints and ways to reduce dribbling. As you can imagine, this direction is a fairly depressing outlook for everyone involved, especially for people with these conditions, who may not want to be fixed or made more normal.

The medical model may also extend to screening for and removing disability in utero if parents so wish. The NHS has routinely offered an ultrasound test to detect the risk of Down’s syndrome for decades, a practice which seems to support the arguments by people with disabilities that the medical establishment sees them as flawed or imperfect. In January 2009 doctors at University College Hospital London announced that they were applying for a licence to screen foetuses for autism.

The social model of disability
In response to the medical model, in the 1970s disability rights activists developed the social model of disability. The social model sees ‘a person with a disability’ — in contrast to the medical model the person is the focus. According to the social model Jack is disabled by society — because there is not sufficient provision for him to participate in activities that he could do if he was not disabled. It’s all well and good having a youth club nearby but not much use if it doesn’t have a wheelchair ramp or an accessible toilet.

As children with disabilities grow up, the barriers tend to multiply. Young people with disabilities are more likely to be unemployed than their peers and less likely to take up work experience placements. According to Mencap, only 20% of people with a learning disability are in paid employment — compared to 50% of people with disabilities generally.

The impact of disability activism
In the UK, legislation against disablism was only passed in 1995, some 20 years after legislation against sex and race discrimination. This was largely due to the efforts of disability civil rights activists in the 1990s. The inaccessibility of public services was highlighted when several activists were arrested and Police discovered that their vans and buildings were unable to meet these activists’ needs — Police found they had to carry a table to the foot of the station steps and book the activists there.

‘The inaccessibility of public services was highlighted when several activists were arrested… Police found they had to carry a table to the foot of the station steps and book the activists there.’

Public services were only given a duty to promote disability and accessible services in 2005, and the playing field is still not level. Currently people with learning disabilities are 58 times more likely to die young, in part because the healthcare system lacks awareness of their needs. Disabled people are also more likely to be victims of crime and harassment than the general population, but less likely to see their complaints taken forward.

Neurodiversity and neuromancing
Some people with disabilities have understandably rebelled against the perception that they are in some way less valued than the mainstream population. At the forefront of this uprising is the neurodiversity movement. Neurodiversity was coined in the 1990s by Judy Singer, who is on the autistic spectrum, and popularised by The New York Times journalist Harvey Blume. The neurodiversity movement argues that any neural differences should be celebrated and respected, rather than erased or unlearned. The term neurotypical is now commonly used by those with an autistic spectrum disorder to describe those without, thus turning the tables on mainstream labelling.

Several science fiction authors have explored the neurodiversity concept, notably William Gibson in Neuromancer. The novel is set in a reality where people actively choose to alter their brains to maximise desired traits, creating a neurodiverse society. One character, Molly, is wired to be the perfect assassin, with super-fast reflexes and reduced morality. She comments that she cannot help the way she is, it’s simply ‘the way I’m wired’. In a case of life potentially mirroring art, Professor Simon Baron-Cohen recently suggested that autism may be linked to increased ability in mathematics, due to the unique way the autistic brain functions, pointing to theories that neurodiversity represents evolution of the human brain.

‘Several science fiction authors have explored the neurodiversity concept, notably William Gibson in Neuromancer.’

Until we do move towards a society approaching that imagined by Gibson, can people without disabilities learn to look beyond surface differences? The future of disability awareness looks optimistic, with wheelchair users in several childrens’ shows and Cerrie Burnell, who has one hand, employed as a CBeebies presenter. Burnell’s appointment sparked complaints from some parents claiming she was scaring toddlers, to which BBC blogger Disability Bitch responded,

‘Pre-school children ARE NOT scared of disabled people. If they were, doctors would’ve been flooded with emergency call outs every time Cerrie appeared on screen, disabled people would live under curfew to avoid upsetting the young’uns when out in public, adverts for disability charities would only feature in top shelf magazines. It doesn’t happen. There’s nothing to debate. Nothing.’

Discrimination against disability is often born of misconceptions and stereotypes, so it follows that attitudes will change through increased exposure to, and promotion of, disability as part of normal human diversity, akin to needing glasses or having red hair. As a parent and a person, I hope that we do eventually reach the point where, as Disability Bitch says, there is no debate over the worth of a person based on their disability. As we raise our son we hope to teach him that his conditions are part of him, and that he is free to celebrate his different wiring as part of what makes him unique.

This article appeared in Filament Magazine Issue 2: September 2009. Unfortunately that issue is now sold out, but you can get our latest issue here.

The calendar was born as an idea, one cold January night while watching over my three-year-old son as he slept. He had been diagnosed with Type One diabetes aged two. As I spent another sleepless night hourly monitoring his blood sugar levels, I decided I wanted to do something to raise awareness about this life-threatening disease and to raise funds for research into a cure.

Photography Naomi Woddis

I avoid all competitive or challenging sports, but I am good at bringing people together to get creative. I decided I would use my skills and connections as a poet and independent publisher to do exactly that. With a goal of raising £10,000 and getting 10,000 people talking about diabetes (10,000 is the number of times my son will be pricked with a needle each year) I began brainstorming.

Photography Annabel Williams

‘My husband’s joking suggestion that I make a calendar of beautiful naked male poets started my brain whirring. Okay, I thought, we might have something a bit different here.’

My husband’s joking suggestion that I make a calendar of beautiful naked male poets started my brain whirring. Okay, I thought, we might have something a bit different here. What if I could bring together male poets, female photographers and poetry by female poets, in a creative collaboration that would explore and celebrate the role of the muse?

Photography Tamara Peel

‘The images started arriving and we began to see something beautiful and exciting, a celebration not only of male beauty, but also of female creativity.’

It took more than eight months to bring 41 artists together, and two months of madness to bring the creative vision into a reality. By early September, the images started arriving and we began to see something beautiful and exciting, a celebration not only of male beauty, but also of female creativity: collaboration, community and positive creative action to make a difference and bring about change.

All profits from the calendar, which is on sale now, will go to charities working to support diabetes research, including the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Order The naked muse 2012 calendar from www.wildwomenpress.com for a special price of £12.99 (includes worldwide shipping) until 13 November, thereafter £14.99 including worldwide shipping.

Grey Area and other stories
Will Self
Penguin Books, 1996
Scale itself is a good starting point. It’s a combination of an exercise in wry literary grandstanding, as Self attempts to squeeze every single usage of the word ‘scale’ into one narrative and a somewhat bleak ‘fall and fall again’ story that somehow combines the pathos of Marion and Geoff with J.G. Ballard’s concrete and motorway slip roads obsession. A great introduction for anyone intimidated by the idea of reading Self, which can be found in the short story collection, Grey area.

Downfall
Director Oliver Hirschbiegel
2004
Moving on to inevitable decline on film, and although the name suggests otherwise, Downfall doesn’t actually chart the demise of the Third Reich from beginning to end, choosing instead to focus on creating a rounded fictional account of those last few days in the bunker. It’s not even really about Hitler per se, although the film caused controversy for daring to show a softer ‘kindly uncle’ side to the Führer.

‘The film caused controversy for daring to show a softer ‘kindly uncle’ side to the Führer.’

In large part, and where it’s most effective, is in telling the stories of the women in the bunker – the wide-eyed and lamblike secretary, Traudl (upon whose real life account the film is based), the brittle Eva Braun, and the stern, fanatical Magda Goebbels, who kills her own children because she can’t bear for them to live in a Germany that has lost the war. It is in these personal stories, rather than in the tanks and explosions, that Downfall offers the most richness.

Harsh times
Dir. David Ayer
2005
Harsh times, on the other hand, is all about the boys. It follows, mostly in extreme close up, as Christian Bale’s tightly wound US Ranger leaves the army and cruises the streets of LA with his best chum (played by Six Feet Under’s Freddy Rodríguez) while he waits to find out if his application to join the LAPD has been successful. This leaves Rodríguez’s sensible wife, played by the inevitable Eva Longoria, rather sidelined.

‘Harsh times lets you know from the start that it’s all going to turn to shit, and eventually you stop caring.’

In other words, more or less the same story as director David Ayer’s earlier Training day, except while in that film the tension kept ratcheting up and it was impossible to tell quite what was going to happen next, Harsh times lets you know from the start that it’s all going to turn to shit, and eventually you stop caring. While the performances are tense and magnetic, the story is all over the place, and keeps starting threads it never does anything with as a means of filling time.

The Wrestler
Dir. Darren Aronofsky
2008
Much more convincingly charting another downward spiral despite not a lot happening in the grander sense, is Darren Aronofsky’s The wrestler. The film follows the titular grappler, beautifully and subtly played by Mickey Rourke, as he agonises over whether to put his failing body through any more punishment after 20 years in the ring, or settle down with a normal job and a family, a new and alien experience for him. The film plays out like a classical drama – the old warhorse coming home from war, only to find a society that has no place for him, and by the oddly satisfying ending, Rourke has you really feeling for the big, dumb lummox.

Snuff
Chuck Palahniuk
Doubleday, 2008
Dropping briefly back into books, Chuck Palahniuk’s Snuff looks at wrestling’s spiritual twin in peroxide, fake tan and over-inflated body parts – the American porn industry. The setting of the book is one of those porn shoots where the female star tries to set a record for the number of dicks taken in whatever orifice (as popularised by Sex: The Annabel Chong Story), and the story is related in consecutive chapters from the viewpoint of three of the male performers and the star’s female PA.

‘Chuck has no idea how to write women, so his female characters are all either man-hating psychos, peroxide sluts or some combination of the two.’

The problem with this book, as with a lot of Chuck’s oeuvre, is that the characters exist purely to churn out wacky factoids and to eventually succumb to a fate reminiscent of the more graphic end of Bizarre magazine’s pages. Chuck also has no idea how to write women, so his female characters are not only afflicted with the above peccadilloes, but are all either man-hating psychos, peroxide sluts or some combination of the two, and any characterisation is usually exactly the same as the male protagonists. While Chuck has an enjoyably flowing prose style, and many of the factoids are intriguing, by the ludicrous ending of Snuff I’d grown tired with his lurid schoolboy obsessions.

The curious case of Benjamin Button
Dir. David Fincher
2008
Going downwards in the temporal sense, erstwhile Palahniuk-adapter David Fincher’s The curious case of Benjamin Button follows the life of the titular character, who was born an OAP, and ages backwards during the course of the film. This film, adapted from a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, includes dewy-eyed actorly performances from both Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett.

‘The main problem is that they are both roughly the same age for a long time, so it might as well be another romantic drama.’

Neither actor appears for quite a while into the film though, as Blanchett’s character is played by some precocious stage school brat to start with, and Pitt’s by what appears to be Gollum’s granddad. The first hour of the film is pacey, fun and rip-roaring, as Fincher makes full use of his effects department to show Button growing younger, taking a job as a trawlerman, and having a fling with Tilda Swinton, but when the two main protagonists finally meet, the next third of the film hits a thick streak of treacle. The main problem is that they are both roughly the same age for a long time, so it might as well be another romantic drama. Benjamin Button does thankfully pull itself back together for a sensitively handled and fun finale, but it would have been nice if the pacing problems weren’t quite so apparent.

Joy Division
Having so far largely avoided the use of ‘down’ in the miserable sense, I decided to be unashamedly bleak in my music reviews and revisit a couple of downtuned, downbeat and just plain grumpy classics. First up, you don’t get more of a reputation for being miserable than Joy Division, from the bleakly challenging band name and cold, urban wasteland image to the hollow, bleak production and the haunted vocals of Ian Curtis.

‘Unlike some other miserablist bands, their music genuinely doesn’t have an optimistic subtext.’

And in truth, unlike some other miserablist bands, their music genuinely doesn’t have an optimistic subtext – the band’s songs are the distillation of Curtis’ obsession with his own emptiness, failure and loss of control. Both of Joy Division’s studio albums, Unknown pleasures and Closer, are excellent, and for a primer on the band’s entire career, you couldn’t do much better than the Substance compilation. Anton Corbijn’s film on the band, Control (2007) is also well worth watching.

Nico
Nico, she of Velvet Underground and not-being-a-very-good-cyclist fame, was pretty much destined to write mournful sounding albums, as she has all the range and vocal cheer of a washing machine on spin cycle. That is not to say her voice is bad, because its very flatness has a hypnotic, almost luxuriously lonely quality.

‘She has all the range and vocal cheer of a washing machine on spin cycle.’

On the albums The marble index and Desertshore, recently re-released in a set titled The frozen borderline, Nico twins her voice with eerie, queasy harmonium-playing, and a variety of hollow, lonely instruments added by the estimable John Cale, to produce what can only be described as heroin sea shanties of insanity and desolation.

I was hoping to end with a review of Ayn Rand’s objectivist epic, Atlas shrugged, as it is about a society in decline, but I have both run out of space here, and not made a huge dent in the book’s thousand-plus pages as yet. So maybe next time.

Mark Chapman is a London-based writer.

Photography - Ricardo Louis http://ricardolouis.com

It all started a few years ago when two of my colleagues and I learnt of another library-themed calendar, The tattooed ladies of the Texas library association. We shared the same reaction – ‘Cool, but… what about us? Where are all the men?’ We also felt that that calendar reinforced the stereotype of librarians as people who wear glasses, shelve according to the Dewey Decimal System and are exclusively female.

‘Three of us decided to make our own calendar that represented the professional and personal interests of male librarians around the country.’

Three of us decided to make our own calendar that represented the professional and personal interests of male librarians around the country.

It wasn’t going to be quite that simple, though. Although the matter has now been resolved, one model was confronted by his human resources manager and threatened with legal action for appearing in the calendar. Then, the trustees of a fund we’d selected to donate the proceeds to – a library fund supporting intellectual freedom and opposing censorship – told us they would not adopt or endorse The men of the stacks fundraiser. We’ve now decided to support a different organisation, It gets better, an organisation that supports GLBT young people and shows them that love and happiness can be a reality in their future.

Our project has two goals: to help alter the perception of professional librarians and do some good for the world. So, who are we? We are educators, programmers, project managers, entrepreneurs, contractors, consultants and speakers. We are academics. We are authors, historians, deans, professors and researchers. We are creatives. We are musicians, bakers, painters and storytellers. We are yogis, gym-rats, runners and hikers. We are dog-lovers, radicals, conservatives, Christians and Buddhists. We are in our twenties. We are in our forties. We try to use our advantages to better the lives of others. We are The men of the stacks.

The men of the stacks 2012 calendar is available at menofthestacks.com for $US19.95 + shipping. You can also email info@menofthestacks.com for more information.