That's it, I guess.

Well, that's just it.

The promo exam results are out, and finally things are over and done with. I'm sick of it already anyway. I did better than I thought I would, but mostly that's because I'm both self-effacing and arrogant at the same time.

"Mugger!"

That's what Wei Jian and Bobby always says to, well, muggers. Definition? People who mug for exams.

Obviously, the duo doesn't like muggers.

I look at their definition, and I look at myself, and I draw startling parallels. Not because I'm a mugger. (God knows I _don't_ study.) But because I have the negative traits of a mugger: arrogant, good-for-nothing, complacent, nose-in-the-air, and many others.

Yeah, I'm bitching about myself.

Why do I say I'm a mugger? (Even though I definitely don't mug?) Because a mugger doesn't need to mug to be a mugger. What makes a lion a lion? We usually equate lions to the traits of strength, courage, majesty. But can a timid lion be a lion? Or is it the traits that make the lion a lion? Or is there no such thing as a timid lion?

Is there such a thing as a mugger who doesn't mug?

I say yes. Like the freaks of every society, there are lions without the traits of lions, there are muggers without the traits of muggers, and there are humans without the traits of humans. And going along the same line of thought, there are non-lions with the traits of lions, non-muggers with the traits of muggers, and non-humans with the traits of humans.

Example: A weasel who fights a hopeless battle against a lion to protect its young exhibits courage. But weasels are not known for courage. Weasels are known as, well, weasel-ly creatures who slink about and nibble at where you cannot swat them away. But what do you call a weasel with the courage of a lion?

Example: I do not mug, but I display all the traits of a mugger: namely, being a hypocrite, worrying about results when I should not, faking concern where I know I'm good, thinking I'm good at something, putting on a brave front for the sake of putting it on, telling others I expect bad results, and inwardly reacting badly when the results do turn out to be bad.

Yeah, I'm one fucked up bastard.

Now, going along with my argument, I have proven that there ARE creatures who do not adhere to the image widely expected of them. So, what are these misfits of the society called? Do they still suscribe to the group they belong to, or are they under the jurisdiction of the group whose traits they exhibit? Is a non-mugger who display mugger-traits a mugger or not? Is a weasel who is as courageous as a lion a weasel or a lion?

Are you thirsty?

No? Yes? Does it matter?

Well, chances are: no.

But humans put undue emphasis on labels and discrimination. So well, in line with human traits (I'm only human, afterall.) I shall bring out the huge labels, and make a decision now.

First example: The lionish weasel.

Is the weasel a lion, or a weasel? First, let us examine both weasel and lion traits.

What is a Weasel?

Weasels are mammals in the genus Mustela of the Mustelidae family. Originally, the name "weasel" was applied to one species of the genus, the European form of the Least Weasel(Mustela nivalis). Literary references to weasels usually refer to this species rather than to the genus as a whole.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)


A weasel, in common folklore, is depicted as a creature which slinks about, doing unsavoury things out of sight. When a person first thinks of a "weasel" in fantasy context, the picture comes to mind of a farm in the dark of twilight, and chickens sleeping. A flash of shadow, and then pandemonum. By the time the farmer rouses and rushes to investigate, the weasel would have made off with a chicken, and without tracks.

In modern day context, a weasel has been used as personification for skulduggery. Look at the following example:

"That m'fug, whatever his intelligence, still has all the worst traits of a weasel -- he'd backstab President Bush himself if there was a way it'd advance his own career."

(Taken from an anonymous blog)

And what about Lions?

The Lion (Panthera leo) is a mammal of the family Felidae. The male lion, easily recognized by his mane, may weigh up to 250 kg (550 lb). Lions are predatory carnivores who live in family groups, called prides. Despite its popular moniker of "King of the Jungle", the lion is an animal of the open plains, and can be found on the savannas of much of Sub-Saharan Africa.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)

I need not elaborate much on a lion's perceived traits, I hope. We all know that a lion embodies at least in human culture) courage, strength, majesty and pride. In effect, the direct opposite of a weasel.

Now, can you imagine a weasel as courageous as a lion? Not likely. However, please read the following about a common species of weasel:

The stoat is territorial and relatively intolerant of others in its range, especially others of the same sex. Within its range, it typically uses several dens, often taken from prey species.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)

Can you imagine what will happen if some other animal intrudes upon its lair? As a canivore, (yes, weasels eat other mammals from as small as rodents to the size of rabbits.) weasels are well versed in the art of combat. In the wilds, those who fail to protect their own would no doubt be wiped out. An intrusion would not be taken lightly, and the result, a ferocious defense, even if the opponent is much larger and stronger.

Cornered, a weasel would fight with as much, or even more courage than a lion.

So what do we call these weasels who fight with a lion's courage? A lion-weasel? Or maybe a liasel? Or a weasion? Why, we call them a lion, of course. Humans label things based on traits they see and expect. If a weasel displays traits of a lion, then humans label them as lions.

Irrational? If you think about it, even YOU label people you have yet to get to know under a perceived label, no matter what he really is. If you meet a guy wearing 5 cm thick glasses, his nose in a book, clad in trousers pulled to his stomach, and wearing a clean white shirt that bears the creases from sitting down to read at the library, your brain jumps immediately to "NERD!".

But he might be a jock who loves basketball, wearing a costume for the sake of a halloween party.

If we meet a weasel, and it displays the traits of a lion, the first thing our brains will jump to is, "LION!".

So, what do you call a non-mugger who displays mugger traits?

Yes! A mugger is born!

All hail his Muggership, Vincent!

Long live the Grand Muggerer!
--

P.S. If you have followed my argument, you should have realised, of course, that all this is hinging on IMPLIED perceptions. If you SHOW others you have non-mugger traits, you'll be labelled as a non-mugger. This means, you can be a mugger at heart, while appearing to be a non-mugger. Of course, it may sound easy, but the art of hypocrisy is not so simple.

Maybe I'll talk about it, and share with you some secrets of my hypocrisy technics the next time I blog. Well, till then, tata~!

Looking to the future~
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Change

I've given it some thought.

This blog has, from since its humble beginnings, been a place for me to talk cock, as they say, and also deliver pompous, arrogant lectures no one deigns to hear. Well, in tandem with the new year coming (in two months), I've decided to change the nature of my blog.

Checklist:
-New Blogskin (DONE!)
-New Theme (DONE!) [no longer "life suks" but, "the future"]
-New Colours (DONE!)
-New Style: Bitching, instead of lecturing (IMPLEMENTING NOW!)

Yes, from now on, my blog is a bitching site. I will bitch about anything that won't land me in a court of law. I don't mind bloodied noses. I think I need a bloody nose anyway. So yes, if you're looking for anything except hearing a small, fat, useless, god-damned-for-all-eternity-gay-faggot bitch about anything he feels like, you're in the wrong place.

If you feel offended already, I've only one thing for you:

www.ImageShack.us

Looking to the future~
+ + +


Your Choice: Hope or Hopelessness

The end of a year draws nigh. It is the time a decent man would stop his chores, put down his tools and take a breather, and ask himself, "How have I grown, and how have I not?"

Bah!

I scorn reflection. I scorn regret.

You reap what you sow. That is the rule, that is the law. No action is without consequences, and no man may escape them. Regret? What can regret do? Can it mitigate the consequences? Can it soften the impact? Can regretting that you did not do this or did not do that make the end any different? What can regret do, except plunge you into despair?

And reflection? What about it? Would reflecting on our past actions unmake our mistakes? The only purpose reflection serves is to stoke one's ego by reviewing, smugly, the scant successes that one has achieved.

I scorn all that.

The end of a year draws nigh. What of my hopes? Have I fufilled them?

Hope. What a word. In one syllable, it symbolises multiple facets of humanity's greatest strengths and paramount weaknesses. Where hope lingers, despair is granted no foothold. Against desperate, infinitely impossible odds, hope paves the way for miracle. Yet hope also drives a man to blindly fight for a lost cause. Yet hope also brings death and destruction to those that believe in it.

What of my hopes?

I could say I had no hopes. I could say, being the Vincent that I am, I avoided the pitfalls I saw. Yet that would be a rank lie. I'm human, and humans hope, no matter how foolish it may be. It is as undeniable as the turn of the tides.

Yet hope is as alien to us as the planet Pluto to Earth. We cannot understand it. We cannot grasp its concept. We just hope. And we hope. And we hope.

What is its purpose? Dare we speculate? Why do we hope? And what is its significance?

The end of a year draws nigh. Now is the time, to lay plans. To form resolutions. To review, reflect and regret. To forge out new blades of resolve in the fires of hope, for a better year, for a better me.

How can humans reconcile themselves to their rank ignorance?

"If evil truly exists, it exists in the heart of mankind."
-Edward D. Morrison

We are barbarians, creatures that fight for nothing but the sake of fighting. We fight to expel those people whom we do not understand. Whom we do not try to understand. We take up swords, take up guns, take up armies and nuke warheads, and slam them on those different from us. We refuse to understand them, we refuse to accept them, we refuse to try. Because we cannot.

Are we truly?

Where we tread, we bring terror and destruction. Yet, also, we bring hope.

Where animals are nearly extinct by our hands, we form enclaves and reserves for them, for the hope of their continued existence. Where sorrow and loss has abraded and worn thin the hope, we look for new sources, depleting them as well, but all for the sake of deflecting these sorrows and losses. Where hope does not exist, because we kill and slaughter and enslave, we create hope, and Jesus, and God.

Does hope cause death and destruction? Or is death and destruction the harbinger of hope?

Is there any difference, either way?

Are humans parasites?

Are these questions important?

No. I've come to the conclusion, they are not. Everything is in the past. The past is gone, forgotten, and history. We must now look to the future. That is where our destiny, our fate, our lives, and our deaths, lie.

Yet we face a cross-roads now. Do we trundle on, tired, exhausted, unwilling to lift our heads, panting at every step, discarding hope and destruction, and yet, hoping to outrun our own fears and evils? Or do we raise our heads high, embrace hope, and set forth with a spring in our steps, accepting hope with all its perils, and looking to carve a new path, away from the repetitive barbaric acts of humankind in the past?

Your choice: Hope or Hopelessness.

Is there even a choice? Will there even be a difference in the outcome?

Well, nobody knows. The future is yet unformed. We can ignore it, and move forward in time-proven steps to destruction, or we can reach out, jump for it, and risk breaking our necks in unmerciful agony.

Everything in life is a choice. What will you choose?

Looking to the future~
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Love: Second Ed

Why blog?

That was the first thing that came into my mind as I loaded this screen. But I sat back, thought about it, and decided to go ahead. My reason? None. I have no compelling reason to blog, but neither do I have any compelling reason not to. So I heaved a great sigh, leant forward and let my fingers do the walking. (Sorry, I don't usually use cliches, but I needed something to end this prologue.)

I was eating dinner with my mother, the two of us alone in this four-member family, as usual. Not that there's any estrangement (not much, anyway), but my father works night-shift, and my sister don't come home until 8. (Or if she does come home early, she don't eat with us. I said not much estrangement, not no estrangement.) Back to the point, I was eating dinner with her, and we bantered with her taking the usual vanguard.

"Eat mee, (as in noodles) later get hungry ah! Want to eat some of mine?"

I kicked into my usual mimic-my-mom-to-irritate-her mode, and replied, "Eat rice, later get hungry ah! Want to eat some of mine?"

The battle went on, with me reversing all her logic and attacking her with that messed-up intellect. Spoons were meant to be eaten. Food was meant to be thrown away. Tables were meant to sit on us. Spoilt food tasted the best. Cooked food was for dogs. Noodles were filling, rice were not. In addition, since we went through this banter all the time, I judged when she'd be likely to use her trademark phrases and used them in a mimicky high voice right before she was going to. For the first time in my years of banter, I finally managed to pull of the stunt of repeating her whole repetoire at her without a single mistake!

The end was a precedent. My mother was flabbergasted. For the first time, I had pulled off all her tricks before she could. Left defenseless, she took refuge in laughter. Both of us took pride in my accomplishment. There was a time, long ago, when I was foiled at every turn by her tricks. Her wit was sharp and direct, with no mercy for the unprepared, and her tongue hard enough to flay the skin from rocks. I used to be hung upside down by my little toe, and hung out to dry with my flayed skin next to me everytime I engaged her in battle. But now, I hardly find our spars a challenge at all.

Whether it be because of her aging or my young incompetence, I guess I'll never find out.

But more importantly than all that, I managed to, in the midst of it all, pull of my secondary intent. The bowl she had taken from her stores with intent to keep some of her dinner for god-knows-who lay by the table-side, out of her reach, where I left it. Its depths were empty. She always urged people to eat more, heaping her own food on theirs while touching little herself, insisting it was more than enough for her. She never ate a full bowl, or even a half bowl, of rice at dinner, while my plate is usually half-covered with rice. Only when we ate out, or packaged something home, did she eat anything resembling a real meal for dinner.

And most of the times we packaged home, she always set aside some of her food, claiming she could not finish it all. This one night, I managed to keep that bowl out of reach. Suprisingly, she made no move to reclaim her balked intent. We ate dinner in silence, me with abit of the glow of triumph on my features. I knew my victory was not all it seemed. By no means was she going to stop leaving some of her food uneaten. She'd just put it in the bowl after I'd left. But, if luck is with me, she'd misjudge and eat more than she intended to.

And then, my victory would be complete.

I'm not an ambitious man. I know something I can't change when I see it. But I can wheedle what little advantage is left me even with a hopeless situation. I felt fully elated.

Until I remembered that my mother was 30 years older than me, with all that experience behind her. The implications came crashing down on me. She would know of my plan. Her counter-measures would assuredly involve keeping a strict eye on her intake, and purposely eating less than what her eye tells her, just in case she misjudged. True enough, by the time I was finished, she had still a veritable amount of food left. She was keeping a very very cautious eye on her intake indeed. Without a doubt, when I left the table, she'd grab the bowl and fill it to any amount she intended in the first place.

I left, feeling the void of defeat, but not making outcry. Like I said, I know something I cannot change when I see it. My love for my mother remains unchanged, despite all her wit.

And at last, after that first bunch of meaningless words, I've finally come to the crux. Today's events have led me to revise my verdict (if I may be arrogant enough to assume so) of the concept of "Love". I have come to see that "Love" is not only synonymous with "Hate" (refer back several entries, that is, if it is still around), but also synonymous with "Pain".

Why pain?

No, I'm not talking about that headache you have right now. I mean the kind of pain you feel at the base of what feels like your heart. Not throbbing, wave after wave kind of pain. But the slow ache that builds up, piling pressure on your face and making you feel downright miserable. Your cheeks will feel hot, and your eyes very dry. Your tongue will tremble (its true, I'm not joking) and you'll have trouble breathing, as the pressure acts not only at where your heart is, but also at your lungs area. You feel constricted, like you're claustrophobic. Your hands feel week, bereft of strength, and trembles when you raise them above heart level.

No, I'm not talking about a heart attack either, though the signs and symptoms are similar. An emotional ache is, theoretically, similar to a heart attack. You dam up your feelings like the fats dam up your blood in the blood vessels. It feels like its going to explode any moment. And I'm not sure it won't.

What has this got to do with "Love"? What has it got to do with taking and giving? What has it got to do with giving unconditionally to your "loved" ones, or taking with intent to harm from your "hated" ones? What has it got to do with anything at all?

Simple: The main cause, the main perpetuator, the main culprit, the main virus.. whatever, of the ache I described, is "Love". Or "Hate", for that matter. Both ways always lead to the same thing: Pain.

I've read 16 love stories today, ranging the gamut from poems to prose, from an 18 page novel-like story to a 5-liner, from fantasy-style war to tragic illness, from love of a young couple to love for a father. Not one, not even in the one where there was a happy ending with the couple in question snuggling warmly into each other's arms forever, where I did not feel the ache. Correction: there were 2 or 3 where I did not feel the ache. Those so riddled with grammar errors that I felt pain for the mauled language. But I digress.

You say, love is not ALL painful. You say, the reason why those stories made me feel pain was because they were all written by angsty teenagers on a topic they have not truly comprehended yet. You say, love is actually a wonderful, soaring feeling. You say, love is actually sweeter the longer it is.

Then explain, if you can, the ache that afflicts me right now.

Pain inflicted by a seventeen-year-old love, with my predictions of it not lightening in the near future, but increasing in the far future. Pain inflicted from watching my mother and father age. Pain from looking at my friends and their deluded, selfish, useless and ultimately, self-destructive "LOVE".

Don't ever doubt my words. All love ends in pain. All hatreds too, since Love and Hate are one and the same.

Give me a single example of someone NOT feeling sad when his LOVED one passes away. I'm not talking about material ties like parenthood. You can watch your father die and not feel pain, but only if you did not love him, and did not hate him. Only when you view him as a number, not even as a stranger, can you watch him die and not feel pain. And if you die first? You won't feel the pain of parting, surely, since you're dead. Your last memory may be a blissful sight of your loved one. But what about that loved one left? Do you think that your parents will not cry all the more harder if you die first?

How can you even think that pain would be non-existent if you die before your loved ones do? You're being selfish, that way. You're thinking of pain for yourself, and not giving a damn to the pain your loved ones feel when you die. What if you and your loved ones die together? Would there be no pain?

No! Spare a thought for those compassionate people, who love those who they have not yet met! Even if ALL of those people whom you love die together with you, those people whom you never knew existed, who never knew you existed, all grief for you when they hear. Their pain is no less intense for the fact that they do not drop tears. Their pain is no less real for the fact that they forget your existence within a day or two! If humankind did not love, did not hate, then neither would they feel pain. Only when you're hailed as truly inhuman, when you are truly alone, when you truly love nor hate no one, when truly, no one, no thing, not even a single blade of grass holds your love or hate, only then, will you feel no pain.

Only when you're not human.

No matter how callous you think you are, no matter how harried, no matter how indifferent, no matter how inconsiderate. You still feel pain. That pain that even the most insensitive, most cruel, most unfeeling person feels is no less real for the fact that the pain is not as intense. Even a psychopath may feel pain. And the cause of that pain? Love. Hate. Whatever you want to call it.

Stop denying it. You know it as well. You feel it as well. Pain is ever constant, ever-building, and never ceasing. Never, for even a moment, lessening. The bliss you feel? That's happiness, which offsets sadness. But it can never, ever, salve the open sore of pain. The only time you cease to feel pain is when your emotional nerves shut down from too much pain: when you go insane.

I hope I never have to choose, insanity or the oblivion of death. What about you?

Looking to the future~
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Yes, my blog has been on hiatus, ostensibly for me to study. But as those who knows me well know, I've not done much of it.

And now its time to panic.

So yes, before any of you ask, the following post is all for my benefit: a last minute of recap of my history notes. Nothing to do with this blog or my thoughts. If you like, stay and enjoy the music, otherwise, get the hell out of here. Thank you.
---

Industrialisation and its Effects

Industrialisation in Europe had far reaching consequences that lasted from the eighteenth century well into the ninteenth, and continues to shape world history. But how did it all start? What triggered off this momentous event that forever altered the political and economical geography of the region, and later, the world itself?

Ironically, its roots were in the form of conservative church doctrine.

In the late seventeenth century, after the fall of Napoleon, a wave of conservatism swept Europe, and the countries affected were plunged back into the days of feudalism the peasants thought were forever past. Things were no longer the same, the peasants had been riled up to revolt, and now, even though peace hung over the land, they would never stand for the same oppression of the old days. The power of absolute monarchy and the aristocracy was broken forever.

The Church, however, was still a force to be reckoned with.

Still being the only source of education in most of Europe that is availible for peasants, the Church's doctrine was accepted far and wide, preposterous as it may be. For example, potatoes were said to be from hell, as they grew below the ground. Even though this is a ridiculous logic, peasants accepted it as truth. As such, Church doctrine resisted free thought and the advancement of science, philosophers were thus persecuted and oppressed.

But all that changed during the period of the renaissance. Started in Italy, it was a period where free thought ranged, well, free. Philosophers were allowed to present their theories in bold strokes of art, literature, and other mediums. By the eighteenth century, these thoughts had revolved into practical solutions to the region's problems. Scientific advancements flourished past any limits the Church could put down. A man, overly smart, invented the steam engine, and this invention sparked off a series of events that led to the Industrial Revolution itself.

The steam engine was arguably the singular most important invention for the Industrial Revolution. It was used to revolutionalize work; no longer do humans need to do manual labour. The steam engine could do work for humans without need for any effort on any human except to oversee the process. Machines were invented that replaced human labour for planting, and this sparked the Agricultural Revolution.

Farms now could plant a variety of crops instead of one, and had no more need to let the land lie fallow. All year around, there would be a crop of some sort in the fields, and the whole field could be used. This significantly increased food output, feeding more people and drastically lowering deaths by starvation throughout Europe. Around the same time, hygiene standards were on the rise, and this increased the people's lifespan. The relative peace of the period also meant not alot of lives were lost to wide-scale war. As a result, there was a population boom in Europe.

This led rise to another phenomena, that of the Factory System. As the increased population searched for work in towns, there was a need for new employment. This problem was solved in the factory system, which was born, again, due to the steam engine. Smart alecks mechanized industrial manufacture, and connected it to the steam engine, which mean that now, manufacturers could create goods faster, cheaper, and with no need for manual labour.

More importantly, this invention made it that home-working is no longer possible. Entrepreneurs borrowed gold and built huge buildings instead, to house large numbers of these machines, and employed the people coming to town to look for work to oversee the machines. The result, a dramatic increase in production. As costs were cut down significantly due to machinery doing the work, industrial production became more than a viable business; it became a prosperous trade.

That was not all, the steam engines had been used to create trains, and also steamships, and both these, along with the Telegraph, cut down travel time drastically, and allowed for speedy communication across large distances. The Far East became open to the Europeans, and viable as a trade route, and communications could take place within extremely short times. All these helped to build up the budding business of the factories, and helped to furthur develope the banks who had provided the entrepreneurs with the money for the factories in the first place.

The Industrial Revolution cut down costs so much so that even the poorest peasants could easily afford clothes, which were once seen as an extravagant luxury, and the drastic increase in production meant far larger amounts of profit.

So why was Britain the only country to Industrialise, until decades later before the main continental European countries followed suit? Why, if the Industrial Revolution offered so much advantages, was Britain the first country to so rapidly industrialise while the others still wallowed in conservatism?

Britain was, for one, never touched adversely by war. She was removed from the main continental Europe, and war never touched her soil. Her navy kept her safe, and Napoleon's failed "Continental System" never affected Britain adversly at all. As a result, her trade and economies were already booming. With that much profit already flowing about, it became a simple matter to Industrialise, the capital-heavy process was no problem at all for Britain.

Furthurmore, Britain had a large amount of resources at hand. She could trade with virtually any port in Europe, and her Empire ceded her large sources of raw materials for Industrialisation. Her own homegrown resource, hard-working, willing peasants, made it that her factories were set up very quickly, without fuss, and soon turned the major cities of Britain into sprawling metropolises of factories and growing industry.

Also, the other countries of Europe were still mired by conservatism and Church doctrine at the time when Britain had already implemented a widely successful laissez faire economy. By the time Britain had industrialised, they were still bickering amongst themselves over the fine points of the failing system of conservatism. This allowed the English to take a jumpstart on her rivals in Industrialising.

Industralism thus established English supremacy very quickly.

However, other than the obvious and drastic economic benefits, Industrialisation also brought about social changes on a wide-scale. One of the most important of these changes was the introduction of Capitalism.

Capitalism is a concept of allowing the economy to run on its own, without government intervention. It is argued that, in that manner, the economy would prosper far better and far more than if the government had held on to control. In fact, Capitalism was centered about human greed. It would be the consumer's greed which drove them to buy from the producers, and thus creating profits, which would be invested to furthur expand the industry. Capitalism was a self-sufficient system which would find an equilibrium point where everyone is satisfied, and stay there, even if there is a disturbance.

For the consumers, driven by greed, would make decisions that eventually returned order to the system even in the case of crisis. As a result, governments, producers and consumers would all be satisfied, and the industry and economy would be ever growing and expanding. This system quickly replaced feudalism in Britain, and was an immediate success. Britain's economy was now far more advanced than any country's in Europe. Under this system, a new attitude of protection of private property was endorsed, and this encouraged people to work even harder, so that they had an incentive for what seemed like boring, endless work.

The result? Why, increased production and lowered cost, and greater efficiency of course. What did you expect?

Industrialisation, however, also brought the problem of overcrowding to the cities. As the population increased in the farmlands, and machines replaced the need for human labour, the excess children had no use in the farms. They were forced to go to the cities to find work instead. This rural-urban migration had great impact, in which it increased the population of the towns greatly, and also that it inundated the labour market with an excess of workers. This led to exploitation of labour, which would be discussed later.

These moves stripped the resources in the cities very quickly. Many were homeless and slept in the streets. A place for them to stay had to be found. The result was surburban development. Cities grew larger and more crowded, and there was no place to house the poor souls who came seeking refuge and work. The only possible course left was to expand the boundaries and build ramshackle houses for the new people in what came to be called the suburbs. This development ate up good farmland in the outskirts of town, but no other alternative existed.

Along with the people came even more industrialisation and factories as producers sought to take advantage of desperate people and employ them at excessively cheap wages. Whole towns made up of nothing but factories and lodging sprouted next to coal mines and other sources of power for the steam engines. As a result, the air in Britain grew thick with the fumes from the factories. Acid rain eroded the land, and overcrowding became more and more a problem in cities and towns.

Exploitation of labour was also rampant. Because of such a large amount of supply of workers, and because the factory machines needed no expertise to work, the employers could set very low wages, and driven by desperation, many would sign up. This allowed them to keep the costs low. Also, to provide the workers with a place to sleep that was close to the factory, they built cheap longhouses to give their workers shelter next to the factories, but in appalling conditions. There were not even basic sanitary amenities.

Workers were forced to work very long hours, with no rights except to their meagre pay, and they had no choice. They could work, or they would forfeit that money they so desperately need. Even children were used to provide cheap labour. They were the most cruelly exploited. Forced to work from day to night, with only short periods of rests in between, the children were a source of extremely cheap labour. Some even went unpaid, but unable to speak up.

The ever relentless drive to profit and industrialise kept the employers heartless, and the peasants over-worked under conditions not fit for man.

The decline of the aristocracy was another of the effects of the Industrial Revolution. The old families of the baronies and dukedoms were already in decline after the replacement of fuedalism by capitalism. They had almost no place in the new system. However, their decline was caused by none other then themselves. They, in their arrogant pride, refused to even contemplate industrialising themselves. They refused to invest their resources into the new system, and kept to the old ways.

While their income in no way decreased, the rapid growth of industrialised firms quickly overtook theirs and left them in the wayside. Within years, the aristocracy was poorer than almost all businessmen, and only slightly better off than the peasants. Those that held the reins of economic power were those businessmen who were first to throw off the mantle of the fuedalism and embrace the new order of capitalism.

And thus the aristocracy was fallen.

Other impacts, politcal and social, also came as an indirect effect of Industralism. However, these are the most direct effects.

Looking to the future~
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