‘It is easier to be critical than correct.’– Benjamin Disraeli

This week led to my penultimate exam of university; I am currently experiencing my last weekend in St. Matthias library, with three days to go until my finalfinal. How? In facing the bittersweet end of university with only Ben and Jerry for company, I found myself fully embracing nostalgia, until a lecturer responded with ‘Dear America’ to an e-mail. It appears I have been forgotten already. Within the next three months I will be travelling to Prague, Israel and hopefully New York City. Despite this, I found myself asking my mother’s permission to go for a burger with friends, due to my recent decision to leave my job (a clumsy waitress is not a happy waitress). At 22 years old. Considering my mother regularly uses ‘Emojis’ instead of letters (and usually not the correct ones), I need not have bothered. Everything was out to kill the buzz this week, and despite an exciting Monday venue-hunting for our leavers’ night, the rest of the week was harassed with negativity and hate. Is there substance behind hatred and exclusivity?

Despite the axing of the ‘Great-Chain-of-Being’, money still equates to power in too many circumstances. Despite the advancement of global trade and technology, there are many in societies across the world, hindered by tradition. When modernity meets tradition, hatred grows; two videos circulated this week, by the British National Party and their ‘Youth’ demonstrate this. It is definitely past their bedtime. The parallel to the promoted ideals of the Nazi Youth is uncanny, but fascists exist primarily as a reactionary movement; creating yourself out of an angry reaction to what you are not shows no substance. It is my personal belief that this level of hatred is grown out of personal insecurities, but whilst watching these videos I had to check I was in Britain, in 2014. The culture of the ‘anti’ is making a comeback, as a survey conducted in America revealed ‘anti-Semitic attitudes are widespread’. 70% of these people had never met a Jewish person. Another anti-modernist, discovered this week, has an entire website dedicated to his hatred. Various articles, such as ‘the myth of the female intelligence’ and ‘how to crush a girl’s self-esteem’ appeared satirical. Apparently not. This website of self-proclaimed ‘Wisdom’ implies feelings of inadequacy modernity’s losers are feeling emasculated. Racism and sexism are only two among the many forms of ‘anti’ currently being repackaged. Is this simply ignorance, or is society insecure? When confidence cures hatred, and education relies on the effort of the recipient, does apathy breed hatred? Resorting to hate implies an identity crisis, and it appears you can only lead a horse to water. Will societies advance past hatred, or is hatred a human constant? With old money in the New World, power has left the Enlightenment ideal of human equality a myth.

I encountered one of modernity’s losers this week, when my inability to afford my New York City offer and my belief in the equality of the sexes was mocked. An insincere offer of funding followed by jokes about my suitability for prostitution (well, I am a woman*) managed to offend; inheritance will not give you morals/friends/balls. Trying to inject positivity back into the week was impossible whilst revising The Atlantic Slave Trade, and its legacy. Historical parallels aside, this week will bring the start of post-university life; I must try to become a serious adult, who retains the majority of thought-processes until the appropriate situation. Receiving my module option choices from The New School last week was all kinds of exciting and led to hours of apartment-hunting online. My favourite apartment was ninety-eight-million-dollars, which led to an awkward phone call with a New Yorker when discovering the realities of my budget. It was especially awkward when I forgot his name. On a serious note, he found the perfect solution in Brooklyn that I also cannot afford until I get funded. I will report back.

N.B. UKIP are also haters.

*This is sarcasm.