2007
another year expires and is consigned to history
the year that was
and the year that wasn't
destined to be forgotten
much maligned
written off
put down to experience
distorted
celebrated
glorified
archived and microfiched
edited and revised
put to bed and resurrected
referenced and reinvented
cited and indicted
cut up and pasted into a scrapbook
another year of empty promises
disingenuous dissembling
slanderous lies
collective amnesia
dashed hopes
faded dreams
dubious means
violent ends
thuggish intimidation
murderous intent
cold-blooded assassination
innocent pleasures
touching kindnesses
jawdropping beauty
stunning cool
improbable synchronicities
fortunate serendipities
mutating cities
restless flux
breathless change
breathtaking inertia
stagnation and obselesence
empty ritual
full speed ahead
a year all wrapped up in pretty packaging
shrinkwrapped in plastic
placed under spotlights
and sold two for the price of one
a paradoxical year
a year just like any other year
and yet...
unique
see ya all here in 2008!
Monday, December 31, 2007
OUT OF CURIOSITY
what is art-pour-l'art?
what was so special about william blake?
how did rimbaud inspire dylan et al?
is a flea circus real or a con?
who is david de rothschild?
what is the secret of happiness?
who were the diggers?
did david kelly commit suicide?
why was gilligan really forced to resign?
what is a troika?
how did robin cook meet his maker?
what is a zero-sum game?
what did the triffids release?
why is the beast #666?
what were the finer plot details of 'the selfish giant'?
where can i get a pair of breathable trousers?
what exactly is clause four?
who were the parasites in charge of northern rock?
do lemmings really launch themselves over cliffs?
what do buddhists believe?
how does one meditate?
what is an apocryphal story?
could bush and chums have stopped 9-11?
what is a mummers play?
why are birmingham grammar schools named after king edward vi?
what was kenny everett's real name?
what are green drinks?
will the church play any uk dates in 2008?
when do our american friends say 'heads up'?
why are trees vips?
why do humans keep on making the same old mistakes?
what is the purpose of the tom paine society?
what is the fourth estate?
and the fifth?
how do you play the opening chord of 'a hard day's night'?
who is denis haliday?
why is gandhi still relevant?
whatever happened to echobelly?
why do some schools have an interactive whiteboard in every classroom
while others go without?
what is education for?
who were the lily-white boys covered all in greeno?
what are the dangers of pvc?
whatever happened to the guy out of haircut 100?
what nutrition does one get from a potato?
what is the best way to write a song?
how did rudolf nuryev escape to the west?
where was mercia?
how does the killer manage to rattle off a blog every day?
can mainstream politics save us from self-destruction?
why are the nigerians cutting down their rainforests
and eating the monkeys?
what do they do at schumacher college?
do broadsheet journalists really believe the bilge they spout?
why did the earth centre at doncaster go pear-shaped?
is it worth reading 'the ten-day mba'?
what is the most eco-friendly form of modern human settlement?
how do you go about writing a business plan?
is it worth writing one?
how can i make this blog more interesting?
does it have to be interesting?
isn't 'interesting' a meaningless value-laden word?
why are biofuels such a disaster?
what do 'bucolic' and 'apoplectic' mean?
how does george monbiot speak for twenty minutes without notes?
what is the prisoner's dilemma?
how can i keep my emotions on a more even keel?
who is frances cairncross?
what is 'active traffic management'?
where does jason pegg play gigs?
how many jobs have i had over the years?
what's the best pub in stamford?
what is the best way to remove a red wine stain from a carpet?
how do you cook beetroot?
where is the spotted dog?
is russell brand for real?
should parents offer kids discipline or flexibility?
how much money has the uk government wasted on the iraq invasion?
how many iraqis have died as a result of war and sanctions?
how many afghan civilians have perished?
how can the media churn out superficial tripe about war
and never ever focus on the tragedy of the real victims?
how can i remain calm in the face of such provocation?
does alcohol really give you cancer?
are the arctic monkeys washed up?
what colour would you like the door of your new nuclear power station?
can a carnivore be an environmentalist?
can an environmentalist be a carnivore?
aren't we all environmentalists?
isn't the term a red herring?
why when we learn the truth do we still go on lying to ourselves?
do you wanna be part of the problem or the solution?
what is art?
what is the art of living?
is property theft?
what vocal style best suits my voice?
how can we get hannah to sleep at a reasonable time?
how can i help my brother deal with his anger?
who was general pitt rivers?
what happened to the zepellin?
how come lord kitchener was so successful?
and did curiosity really kill the cat?
what was so special about william blake?
how did rimbaud inspire dylan et al?
is a flea circus real or a con?
who is david de rothschild?
what is the secret of happiness?
who were the diggers?
did david kelly commit suicide?
why was gilligan really forced to resign?
what is a troika?
how did robin cook meet his maker?
what is a zero-sum game?
what did the triffids release?
why is the beast #666?
what were the finer plot details of 'the selfish giant'?
where can i get a pair of breathable trousers?
what exactly is clause four?
who were the parasites in charge of northern rock?
do lemmings really launch themselves over cliffs?
what do buddhists believe?
how does one meditate?
what is an apocryphal story?
could bush and chums have stopped 9-11?
what is a mummers play?
why are birmingham grammar schools named after king edward vi?
what was kenny everett's real name?
what are green drinks?
will the church play any uk dates in 2008?
when do our american friends say 'heads up'?
why are trees vips?
why do humans keep on making the same old mistakes?
what is the purpose of the tom paine society?
what is the fourth estate?
and the fifth?
how do you play the opening chord of 'a hard day's night'?
who is denis haliday?
why is gandhi still relevant?
whatever happened to echobelly?
why do some schools have an interactive whiteboard in every classroom
while others go without?
what is education for?
who were the lily-white boys covered all in greeno?
what are the dangers of pvc?
whatever happened to the guy out of haircut 100?
what nutrition does one get from a potato?
what is the best way to write a song?
how did rudolf nuryev escape to the west?
where was mercia?
how does the killer manage to rattle off a blog every day?
can mainstream politics save us from self-destruction?
why are the nigerians cutting down their rainforests
and eating the monkeys?
what do they do at schumacher college?
do broadsheet journalists really believe the bilge they spout?
why did the earth centre at doncaster go pear-shaped?
is it worth reading 'the ten-day mba'?
what is the most eco-friendly form of modern human settlement?
how do you go about writing a business plan?
is it worth writing one?
how can i make this blog more interesting?
does it have to be interesting?
isn't 'interesting' a meaningless value-laden word?
why are biofuels such a disaster?
what do 'bucolic' and 'apoplectic' mean?
how does george monbiot speak for twenty minutes without notes?
what is the prisoner's dilemma?
how can i keep my emotions on a more even keel?
who is frances cairncross?
what is 'active traffic management'?
where does jason pegg play gigs?
how many jobs have i had over the years?
what's the best pub in stamford?
what is the best way to remove a red wine stain from a carpet?
how do you cook beetroot?
where is the spotted dog?
is russell brand for real?
should parents offer kids discipline or flexibility?
how much money has the uk government wasted on the iraq invasion?
how many iraqis have died as a result of war and sanctions?
how many afghan civilians have perished?
how can the media churn out superficial tripe about war
and never ever focus on the tragedy of the real victims?
how can i remain calm in the face of such provocation?
does alcohol really give you cancer?
are the arctic monkeys washed up?
what colour would you like the door of your new nuclear power station?
can a carnivore be an environmentalist?
can an environmentalist be a carnivore?
aren't we all environmentalists?
isn't the term a red herring?
why when we learn the truth do we still go on lying to ourselves?
do you wanna be part of the problem or the solution?
what is art?
what is the art of living?
is property theft?
what vocal style best suits my voice?
how can we get hannah to sleep at a reasonable time?
how can i help my brother deal with his anger?
who was general pitt rivers?
what happened to the zepellin?
how come lord kitchener was so successful?
and did curiosity really kill the cat?
Sunday, December 30, 2007
JEAN'S GENES
aunty jean's real name is diane
but no-one calls her that
for reasons unknown or lost in time
she likes to be addressed as jean
aunty jean is my dad's younger cousin
she is a good eight years my mum's junior
but mum is often embarrassed when people ask if jean is her mother
one of the most striking things about jean
is her constant babble of rambling incoherent speech
very much like a person vocalising their thought processes out loud
which is perhaps what it is
jean also has a severe speech impediment
which takes a lot of getting used to
and makes understanding her extremely difficult
by way of example
'aunty rose' comes out as 'aunty owl'
what does aunty jean mean? asks a puzzled hannah...
jean lives in a care home across the city
once a month my folks take her out for the day
each day follows a familiar pattern
they pick jean up in the car
take her for lunch in a cafe
they go shopping for routine items in a suburban high street or mall
finally it's back to the house for tea
salmon sarnies, cake and trifle
apart from the difficulties she has making herself understood
jean has other problems:
a pronounced stoop from bad posture
severe alopecia and a bleeding scalp
caused by her pulling out her own hair
week legs and painful feet
meaning that she has to use a zimmer-frame-on-wheels contraption
and shuffles along at a painfully slow speed...
like her mobility
jean's field of interest is extremely restricted
a few things that register:
cats
family
knitting
old photographs of brum taken from the fifties onwards
the various 'aunties' who work at her care home
some things that pass under the radar:
popular culture in general
music
sport
opinions
topical events
the wider world beyond the care home
this also places limits on conversations...
jean suffered brain damage as a baby
my dad's uncle and his wife looked after her
until they passed away twenty years ago
and she found her way into a care home run by a trust
as a child i never saw her
the only evidence that diane (as she was called then) existed
came from an annual christmas card scrawled in clumsy capitals
more recently my parents have gradually got to know her better
got used to her ways
her needs
her interests and limitations
jean obviously looks forward to her days out
pencilling them into her diary
no sooner than she has sunk into her favourite armchair...
i used to resent the visits from this cuckoo
barging into the family nest
on day release from the closet
with her strange babbling and routines
intruding as if from nowhere on our lives
i even shamefully remember making a real fuss
about her coming round one boxing day
now that i have come to understand aunty jean a bit more
i realise that she is as lovable as anyone else
and heartily regret my selfishness and stupidity
but no-one calls her that
for reasons unknown or lost in time
she likes to be addressed as jean
aunty jean is my dad's younger cousin
she is a good eight years my mum's junior
but mum is often embarrassed when people ask if jean is her mother
one of the most striking things about jean
is her constant babble of rambling incoherent speech
very much like a person vocalising their thought processes out loud
which is perhaps what it is
jean also has a severe speech impediment
which takes a lot of getting used to
and makes understanding her extremely difficult
by way of example
'aunty rose' comes out as 'aunty owl'
what does aunty jean mean? asks a puzzled hannah...
jean lives in a care home across the city
once a month my folks take her out for the day
each day follows a familiar pattern
they pick jean up in the car
take her for lunch in a cafe
they go shopping for routine items in a suburban high street or mall
finally it's back to the house for tea
salmon sarnies, cake and trifle
apart from the difficulties she has making herself understood
jean has other problems:
a pronounced stoop from bad posture
severe alopecia and a bleeding scalp
caused by her pulling out her own hair
week legs and painful feet
meaning that she has to use a zimmer-frame-on-wheels contraption
and shuffles along at a painfully slow speed...
like her mobility
jean's field of interest is extremely restricted
a few things that register:
cats
family
knitting
old photographs of brum taken from the fifties onwards
the various 'aunties' who work at her care home
some things that pass under the radar:
popular culture in general
music
sport
opinions
topical events
the wider world beyond the care home
this also places limits on conversations...
jean suffered brain damage as a baby
my dad's uncle and his wife looked after her
until they passed away twenty years ago
and she found her way into a care home run by a trust
as a child i never saw her
the only evidence that diane (as she was called then) existed
came from an annual christmas card scrawled in clumsy capitals
more recently my parents have gradually got to know her better
got used to her ways
her needs
her interests and limitations
jean obviously looks forward to her days out
pencilling them into her diary
no sooner than she has sunk into her favourite armchair...
i used to resent the visits from this cuckoo
barging into the family nest
on day release from the closet
with her strange babbling and routines
intruding as if from nowhere on our lives
i even shamefully remember making a real fuss
about her coming round one boxing day
now that i have come to understand aunty jean a bit more
i realise that she is as lovable as anyone else
and heartily regret my selfishness and stupidity
Friday, December 28, 2007
FLEA CIRCUS
long life
good health
the freedom to live in peace and democracy
loving and being loved
access to information and communication
the means to live in comfort
the freedom to travel the world
the chance to contribute towards the well-being of others
the wherewithal to respect and protect the environment
what more could anybody want?
and yet...
most of the people in our society
seem to pursue happiness in vain
they find entertainment and pleasure
but no deeper longer-lasting fulfilment
i only have to turn on the telly or the radio
or observe the people around me
to see that anxiety, unhappiness and discontent are rife
the highs are fleeting
always followed hot on the heels by the lows
like a junkie on heroin
those twin imposters triumph and disaster jostle for attention
as we walk the tightrope
they are always beckoning
shallow ephemeral waves of pleasure wash over us
as our desires or goals are momentarily satisfied
but we lack the depth of the sea
that body of water unmoved by turbulent storms and high winds
how can we ever find happiness
if we only look outwards
if our eyes remain focussed on the flea circus
if we jump to attention like pavlov's dogs when a bell is rung
while we neglect to look inwards
terrified of what we might find there
good health
the freedom to live in peace and democracy
loving and being loved
access to information and communication
the means to live in comfort
the freedom to travel the world
the chance to contribute towards the well-being of others
the wherewithal to respect and protect the environment
what more could anybody want?
and yet...
most of the people in our society
seem to pursue happiness in vain
they find entertainment and pleasure
but no deeper longer-lasting fulfilment
i only have to turn on the telly or the radio
or observe the people around me
to see that anxiety, unhappiness and discontent are rife
the highs are fleeting
always followed hot on the heels by the lows
like a junkie on heroin
those twin imposters triumph and disaster jostle for attention
as we walk the tightrope
they are always beckoning
shallow ephemeral waves of pleasure wash over us
as our desires or goals are momentarily satisfied
but we lack the depth of the sea
that body of water unmoved by turbulent storms and high winds
how can we ever find happiness
if we only look outwards
if our eyes remain focussed on the flea circus
if we jump to attention like pavlov's dogs when a bell is rung
while we neglect to look inwards
terrified of what we might find there
Thursday, December 27, 2007
STAIN
boxing day
when are we going to do some boxing? asks hannah
curious
as a kid i never questioned why boxing day was called boxing day
it just had a kind of right-sounding feel to it
chrismus day then...boxing day
anyway
the weather is mild n sunny n bright
we load hannah's scooter into the boot
and all six of us drive over to cannon hill park
birmingham's best park
according to my dad
who has a far superior working knowledge
of brum's recreational spaces
cannon hill is one of those victorian parks
which was donated by a kindly philanthropissed
once he or she had made a fortune exploiting their workers
i suppose
there are a couple of boating lakes
a black n white elizabethan-style cricket pavilion
wide open spaces
flower beds with exotic palm trees
kiddies playgrounds
a cycle track
and of course the 'mac'
the midlands arts centre
where i learnt to play classical guitar as a teenager
reaching grade six no less
in the so-called hexagon theatre
with my mate mike from number 83
and our wellspoken and slightly sexy teacher fran griffin
who always finished the lesson with a cheery 'toddle off now boys'
much to our amusement
once i played a piece for all the parents in a guitar concert
left foot placed on footstool
legs wide open
then realised afterwards i'd been flying low the whole time!
i guess the classical stuff helped me quite a bit
even though all i really wanted to do
was learn to strum chords
figure out how to play beatles songs
and get on with writing my own
the summer we left school
i played footy at cannon hill park with my mates from five ways
the summer i turned eighteen
and ironically got refused in a pub for the first time
the summer all of us headed off to university and adulthood
and the rest of our lives
eddie passalacqua
gavin rebello
nigel prosser
and all the others
where are you now?
'friends reunited' provides scant clues...
in the bright low-angled sunlight of the winter solstice
we feed the canada geese on the lake
hannah does a turn on her scooter
then asks for a hug
she's still not fully recovered from a pre-xmas cold
we do a brief tour of the playgrounds
then dad and i go for a stroll
while the others head off for a cuppa at the mac
back at the ranch
i experiment with a beetroot n cabbage salad
beetroot with its amazing healing properties
courtesy of our organic box
to accompany the festive feast
it turns out better than i could have dreamed
getting a rare unanimous thumbs-up
after dinner i resume my newly assumed role as games master
wrapping up a 'pass the parcel' from recycled xmas pressie paper
and organising a game of charades
the highlight is uncle johnny desparately trying and failing
to convey the concept of 'zen & the art of motorcycle maintenance'
while his bewildered team mates scratch their heads
unfortunately
in the middle of all the excitement
i have to blot my copy book
leaving a glass of ruby red port by the sofa
for someone to knock all over the carpet
we soak up the liquid with paper
and cover the stain with salt
but a long pink finger still extends stubbornly across the carpet this morning
suggestions on a postcard please...
when are we going to do some boxing? asks hannah
curious
as a kid i never questioned why boxing day was called boxing day
it just had a kind of right-sounding feel to it
chrismus day then...boxing day
anyway
the weather is mild n sunny n bright
we load hannah's scooter into the boot
and all six of us drive over to cannon hill park
birmingham's best park
according to my dad
who has a far superior working knowledge
of brum's recreational spaces
cannon hill is one of those victorian parks
which was donated by a kindly philanthropissed
once he or she had made a fortune exploiting their workers
i suppose
there are a couple of boating lakes
a black n white elizabethan-style cricket pavilion
wide open spaces
flower beds with exotic palm trees
kiddies playgrounds
a cycle track
and of course the 'mac'
the midlands arts centre
where i learnt to play classical guitar as a teenager
reaching grade six no less
in the so-called hexagon theatre
with my mate mike from number 83
and our wellspoken and slightly sexy teacher fran griffin
who always finished the lesson with a cheery 'toddle off now boys'
much to our amusement
once i played a piece for all the parents in a guitar concert
left foot placed on footstool
legs wide open
then realised afterwards i'd been flying low the whole time!
i guess the classical stuff helped me quite a bit
even though all i really wanted to do
was learn to strum chords
figure out how to play beatles songs
and get on with writing my own
the summer we left school
i played footy at cannon hill park with my mates from five ways
the summer i turned eighteen
and ironically got refused in a pub for the first time
the summer all of us headed off to university and adulthood
and the rest of our lives
eddie passalacqua
gavin rebello
nigel prosser
and all the others
where are you now?
'friends reunited' provides scant clues...
in the bright low-angled sunlight of the winter solstice
we feed the canada geese on the lake
hannah does a turn on her scooter
then asks for a hug
she's still not fully recovered from a pre-xmas cold
we do a brief tour of the playgrounds
then dad and i go for a stroll
while the others head off for a cuppa at the mac
back at the ranch
i experiment with a beetroot n cabbage salad
beetroot with its amazing healing properties
courtesy of our organic box
to accompany the festive feast
it turns out better than i could have dreamed
getting a rare unanimous thumbs-up
after dinner i resume my newly assumed role as games master
wrapping up a 'pass the parcel' from recycled xmas pressie paper
and organising a game of charades
the highlight is uncle johnny desparately trying and failing
to convey the concept of 'zen & the art of motorcycle maintenance'
while his bewildered team mates scratch their heads
unfortunately
in the middle of all the excitement
i have to blot my copy book
leaving a glass of ruby red port by the sofa
for someone to knock all over the carpet
we soak up the liquid with paper
and cover the stain with salt
but a long pink finger still extends stubbornly across the carpet this morning
suggestions on a postcard please...
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
GENERATION X MOUSE
we haven't done this since h was seven months old
a big multi-generational whatnot family christmas
nanny n grandpa
funny uncle johnny
j
yours drooly
and of course little hannah e
enjoying her first english xmas proper
hannah bounds downstairs at eight
to make sure that santa has polished off his mince pie
and knocked back his sherry
hurray! says she
dragging her giant pillowcase of bright parcels over to the tree
we all sit around for hours
working our way through the piles of gifts
everybody has indulged h big time this year
there is a cool purple scooter from nanny & grandpa
a funky 'peppa pig' house from funny uncle j
a life-size doll with its own portable cot from mummy
a marble helter skelter also from fuj
(i can see we'll soon be losing our marbles)
playdough
korean dvds
and lots more
daddy's modest contribution consists of some nativity story books
to put the whole event in a bit of context
and a jog-raphy lesson
in the form of a world map jigsaw from oxfam
the kind folks in norwich have sent a luvly eco-art activity book
thanks guys!...
by the time i have finished unwrapping my pressies
i am transformed from a scruffy bloke in a dressing-gown
to a smart winter cyclist
clothed from head to toe in a breathable fleece & trousers
and some woolly socks n gloves from uncle j
i build up a seductive pile of books from various quarters:
epstein's bio
dylan's autobio
a guide of local cycle routes (and watering holes)
and those kind norridge benefactors have come up trumps again
with a great big eco-house design encyclopedia...
after brekky h goes out for a scooter test-drive in the sunlight
scaring the life out of grandpa
with her total disregard for health & safety considerations
meanwhile in the kitchen
too many cooks spoil the broth preparing lunch
or rather lunches
as we are obliged to cater for the usual carnivorous and veggie options
as well as different tastes among the veggies
but it all kind of gets there in the end
christmas spirit cutting the usual quotient of internecine quarrelling
we tuck into creamy leak and split-pea soup
delicious nut roast smothered in gravy
tasty roast potatoes, parsnips and carrots
and some steamed purple cabbage adds a dash of colour
the cabernet-shiraz, port and winter ale hit the appropriate spots
and we all collapse into armchairs n sofa
fireseed manages to rouse the troops from post-nosh slumbers
and marches everyone through a team quiz
with rounds on such topics as 'in the night garden',
'northfield manor school'
& 'south korea'
the outcome hinges on the last round 'sport':
which footballer unwisely commented
that none of the croatian players would make it into the england team
just before they were resoundingly humiliated at wembley?
(michael owen's famous last words)
nobody remembers
so the woodles shade it over the weakest links
by a mere point
everyone gamely endures my clumsy guitar playing
as we murder a succession of christmas songs n carols
h does a crazy wagglebottom dance
happy to be the centre of attention
egged on by all n sundry
a starstruck future on the stage awaits
telly is thankfully delayed till eight-thirty
when it arrives with a vengance
providing a suitable juncture
for bedtime stories
lights outs
and a swift christmas blog
still time for charades and more carols before bed...
a peaceful christmas to one and all
love
over-indulgent fireseed
xxxx
a big multi-generational whatnot family christmas
nanny n grandpa
funny uncle johnny
j
yours drooly
and of course little hannah e
enjoying her first english xmas proper
hannah bounds downstairs at eight
to make sure that santa has polished off his mince pie
and knocked back his sherry
hurray! says she
dragging her giant pillowcase of bright parcels over to the tree
we all sit around for hours
working our way through the piles of gifts
everybody has indulged h big time this year
there is a cool purple scooter from nanny & grandpa
a funky 'peppa pig' house from funny uncle j
a life-size doll with its own portable cot from mummy
a marble helter skelter also from fuj
(i can see we'll soon be losing our marbles)
playdough
korean dvds
and lots more
daddy's modest contribution consists of some nativity story books
to put the whole event in a bit of context
and a jog-raphy lesson
in the form of a world map jigsaw from oxfam
the kind folks in norwich have sent a luvly eco-art activity book
thanks guys!...
by the time i have finished unwrapping my pressies
i am transformed from a scruffy bloke in a dressing-gown
to a smart winter cyclist
clothed from head to toe in a breathable fleece & trousers
and some woolly socks n gloves from uncle j
i build up a seductive pile of books from various quarters:
epstein's bio
dylan's autobio
a guide of local cycle routes (and watering holes)
and those kind norridge benefactors have come up trumps again
with a great big eco-house design encyclopedia...
after brekky h goes out for a scooter test-drive in the sunlight
scaring the life out of grandpa
with her total disregard for health & safety considerations
meanwhile in the kitchen
too many cooks spoil the broth preparing lunch
or rather lunches
as we are obliged to cater for the usual carnivorous and veggie options
as well as different tastes among the veggies
but it all kind of gets there in the end
christmas spirit cutting the usual quotient of internecine quarrelling
we tuck into creamy leak and split-pea soup
delicious nut roast smothered in gravy
tasty roast potatoes, parsnips and carrots
and some steamed purple cabbage adds a dash of colour
the cabernet-shiraz, port and winter ale hit the appropriate spots
and we all collapse into armchairs n sofa
fireseed manages to rouse the troops from post-nosh slumbers
and marches everyone through a team quiz
with rounds on such topics as 'in the night garden',
'northfield manor school'
& 'south korea'
the outcome hinges on the last round 'sport':
which footballer unwisely commented
that none of the croatian players would make it into the england team
just before they were resoundingly humiliated at wembley?
(michael owen's famous last words)
nobody remembers
so the woodles shade it over the weakest links
by a mere point
everyone gamely endures my clumsy guitar playing
as we murder a succession of christmas songs n carols
h does a crazy wagglebottom dance
happy to be the centre of attention
egged on by all n sundry
a starstruck future on the stage awaits
telly is thankfully delayed till eight-thirty
when it arrives with a vengance
providing a suitable juncture
for bedtime stories
lights outs
and a swift christmas blog
still time for charades and more carols before bed...
a peaceful christmas to one and all
love
over-indulgent fireseed
xxxx
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
TRANSIENCE
change
transience
fluctuation
impermanence
inconstancy
evolution
revolution
rising
falling
growing
shrinking
here today
gone tomorrow
here for a fleeting moment
gone in a flash
like a bubbling fountain
nothing just is
the bus won't stop and let ya get off
the train never comes to a standstill
the planet revolves
the moon waxes and wanes
the tides ebb and flow
thoughts bubble up, coalesce and disperse
dust falls
organisms decay
an endless cycle
of birth
reproduction
death
the soul
the spirit
the flesh
the demands change
the goalposts move
the bar is raised
the parameters alter
we crave security
permanence
immortality
we get insecurity
impermanence
mortality
we desire what we cannot have
we want to be who we cannot be
transience
fluctuation
impermanence
inconstancy
evolution
revolution
rising
falling
growing
shrinking
here today
gone tomorrow
here for a fleeting moment
gone in a flash
like a bubbling fountain
nothing just is
the bus won't stop and let ya get off
the train never comes to a standstill
the planet revolves
the moon waxes and wanes
the tides ebb and flow
thoughts bubble up, coalesce and disperse
dust falls
organisms decay
an endless cycle
of birth
reproduction
death
the soul
the spirit
the flesh
the demands change
the goalposts move
the bar is raised
the parameters alter
we crave security
permanence
immortality
we get insecurity
impermanence
mortality
we desire what we cannot have
we want to be who we cannot be
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
BALI! BALI!
due to the appallingly inadequate media coverage
you'd be forgiven for missing it
but our greaters and betters have really sold us down the river this time
a near unanimous scientific concensus has now been reached
a real watershed in meteorological science
which concurs that this generation of humankind
has one fleeting opportunity to turn this ship around
before it capsizes and sinks
this is the calm before the storm
when the true effects of human indiscretion
are still largely hidden from view
what is happening represents the greatest market failure the world has ever seen
a total inability to internalise the externalities
to factor in the catastrophic effects of mass industrialisation
reflected in the stubborn 'business as usual' attitude
prevailing in the trade winds
as the planet silently cries out for succour
meanwhile in vain do i scan the news reports
for the words 'contraction & convergence'
a simple system which involves calculating
the number of carbos each planetary citizen can sustainably burn
and then setting targets for making gradual reductions in per capita consumption
a slowly adjusting carbon rationing system
based on democratic principles
where the wealthy lead the way and the poor eventually follow
hence the C & C
yet this elementary justice and equity is politically explosive
predicated as it is on the rich making 'sacrifices'
or should i say treading more lightly
for the sake of the rest of humanity
but ladies and gentlemen
these cards are nowhere near the table
no targets whatsoever were agreed in bali
despite all the noise and the sordid backroom deals
no binding commitment whatsoever was made
the global free marketeers are once again licenced to kill
to dig up, refine and trade with impunity
i say the time has come to step up to the breech
to give up waiting for our gutless political leaders to act
to take things into our own hands
to refuse to race over the edge of the cliff like lemmings
to refuse to comply with the insane demands of the free market profiteers
the northern rock parasites
and their ilk
who espouse the free market to make quick profits
then milk the public dry when they run into trouble
the time has come at last
to wrestle the ship's wheel from its drunken captains
to steer our vessel clear of the treacherous rocks that lie ahead
the ones that threaten to drown us and all our loved ones
so what are we waiting for?
you'd be forgiven for missing it
but our greaters and betters have really sold us down the river this time
a near unanimous scientific concensus has now been reached
a real watershed in meteorological science
which concurs that this generation of humankind
has one fleeting opportunity to turn this ship around
before it capsizes and sinks
this is the calm before the storm
when the true effects of human indiscretion
are still largely hidden from view
what is happening represents the greatest market failure the world has ever seen
a total inability to internalise the externalities
to factor in the catastrophic effects of mass industrialisation
reflected in the stubborn 'business as usual' attitude
prevailing in the trade winds
as the planet silently cries out for succour
meanwhile in vain do i scan the news reports
for the words 'contraction & convergence'
a simple system which involves calculating
the number of carbos each planetary citizen can sustainably burn
and then setting targets for making gradual reductions in per capita consumption
a slowly adjusting carbon rationing system
based on democratic principles
where the wealthy lead the way and the poor eventually follow
hence the C & C
yet this elementary justice and equity is politically explosive
predicated as it is on the rich making 'sacrifices'
or should i say treading more lightly
for the sake of the rest of humanity
but ladies and gentlemen
these cards are nowhere near the table
no targets whatsoever were agreed in bali
despite all the noise and the sordid backroom deals
no binding commitment whatsoever was made
the global free marketeers are once again licenced to kill
to dig up, refine and trade with impunity
i say the time has come to step up to the breech
to give up waiting for our gutless political leaders to act
to take things into our own hands
to refuse to race over the edge of the cliff like lemmings
to refuse to comply with the insane demands of the free market profiteers
the northern rock parasites
and their ilk
who espouse the free market to make quick profits
then milk the public dry when they run into trouble
the time has come at last
to wrestle the ship's wheel from its drunken captains
to steer our vessel clear of the treacherous rocks that lie ahead
the ones that threaten to drown us and all our loved ones
so what are we waiting for?
Sunday, December 16, 2007
PATH
there is no path
the path is made by walking
there are those who stumble along blindly
and those who soldier doggedly on
those who trundle along stuck in a rut
and those who shuffle forwards in resignation
those who trudge wearily onwards
and others who come to a halt paralysed with fear
like rabbits in the headlights
some fall by the wayside
some march to the sound of the drum
while others hear a different drum
there is the pied piper
leading the rats into the river
along with the village children
there is the path through the dark forest
the garden path
and the path well trodden
there is the road to nowhere
the road to redemption
the yellow brick road
and the road to perdition
the high road
and the low road
there is too the road less travelled
there is no path
the path is made by walking
the path is made by walking
there are those who stumble along blindly
and those who soldier doggedly on
those who trundle along stuck in a rut
and those who shuffle forwards in resignation
those who trudge wearily onwards
and others who come to a halt paralysed with fear
like rabbits in the headlights
some fall by the wayside
some march to the sound of the drum
while others hear a different drum
there is the pied piper
leading the rats into the river
along with the village children
there is the path through the dark forest
the garden path
and the path well trodden
there is the road to nowhere
the road to redemption
the yellow brick road
and the road to perdition
the high road
and the low road
there is too the road less travelled
there is no path
the path is made by walking
PUBLIC HOUSING
at the point in England where the four counties meet
a town stands in south kesteven
its buildings hewn from the local limestone
where the melbourn brothers still brew their fruit beers
up by the fire station on new cross road stands the hurdler
the drum & monkey is over in casterton road
just round the corner from the danish invader on empingham road
move on to cromwell's, the green man and the punchbowl in scotgate
not forgetting the hit or miss and the jolly brewer in foundry road
the millstone, the otter's pocket & the periwig are down in all saints
and sell a mean pint
while the golden fleece in sheepmarket will warm your cockles
the london inn on st johns street
will send you steaming down high street
to the black bull in stamford walk
and the hole in the wall in cheyne lane
dart up a narrow alley on the other side of the main drag
and you'll be given a warm welcome
at the pear tree, the lord burghley & the toreador
on up the hill there's the dolphin inn in east street
then loop back round to the half moon inn
and the tobie norris in st pauls
the tobie serves up some mean ales from ufford's microbrewery
beside a roaring hearth
expect to be caught up in a mummers play at this time of year
and be on your guard at the daniel lambert in st leonard's street
where a fat man might challenge you to a rigged race
round to the vaults in st mary's
or a roll down to the bull and swan in high street st martins
ask a local for directions to the northfields in the drift
and don't pass up the chance
to sample a fruit ale at the melbourn brothers' place
a town stands in south kesteven
its buildings hewn from the local limestone
where the melbourn brothers still brew their fruit beers
up by the fire station on new cross road stands the hurdler
the drum & monkey is over in casterton road
just round the corner from the danish invader on empingham road
move on to cromwell's, the green man and the punchbowl in scotgate
not forgetting the hit or miss and the jolly brewer in foundry road
the millstone, the otter's pocket & the periwig are down in all saints
and sell a mean pint
while the golden fleece in sheepmarket will warm your cockles
the london inn on st johns street
will send you steaming down high street
to the black bull in stamford walk
and the hole in the wall in cheyne lane
dart up a narrow alley on the other side of the main drag
and you'll be given a warm welcome
at the pear tree, the lord burghley & the toreador
on up the hill there's the dolphin inn in east street
then loop back round to the half moon inn
and the tobie norris in st pauls
the tobie serves up some mean ales from ufford's microbrewery
beside a roaring hearth
expect to be caught up in a mummers play at this time of year
and be on your guard at the daniel lambert in st leonard's street
where a fat man might challenge you to a rigged race
round to the vaults in st mary's
or a roll down to the bull and swan in high street st martins
ask a local for directions to the northfields in the drift
and don't pass up the chance
to sample a fruit ale at the melbourn brothers' place
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
MYSTERY
are you religious?
there goes that question again
that ever-so-simple yes-no question
with the ever-so-long-winded answer
requiring first of all a definition of terms
what the questioner usually means is:
are you a christian?
whatever that means exactly
in our this modern secular age
for judging by the respective claims and actions of people in this country
there must be a lot of camels
struggling to fit through the eyes of needles
are you religious?
a pretty nonsensical question
if ya stop and think about it
for aren't we all religious?
doesn't everybody have some kind of provisional answer
to his or her place in the universe?
however vague or undeveloped
even if that provisional answer
consists of rejecting the existence of god
arriving at the terrifying conclusion
that life has no purpose or meaning
beyond pleasure-seeking
desire-satisfying
consuming n shopping till ya drop...
the great debate still seems to rage out there
the two pillars
the twin dogmas
which the high priests of their respective temples do tenaciously defend
in the blue corner the darwinistas
dawkins and co
with their big bangs
their matters & anti-matters
their creatures crawling out of the primordial sludge
their theories of natural selection
the survival of the fittest
the lucky elephants/giraffes
which randomly grew long noses/necks
and prospered
and their less fortunate regular guy relatives
who sadly fell into decline
monkeys sitting at typewriters banging out shakespeare plays
eiffel towers forged miraculously from piles of scrap metal
hairy apes metamorphing into humans
(except for the ones to be found in the white house
and on the streets of birmingham)
so the darwinistas fail to cut it with the hows
and they don't even begin to explore the whys
hmmmm...
and in the red corner
the creationistas
those intelligent designers
marvelling at the world god created in six days
full of their tales of adam n eve
and the serpent that did beguile em
naughty eve and her bite of the apple
the expulsion from the garden
so far so good
but who or what was it
that created god and satan in the first place?
there is a tad more of the why here
but the how ain't at all convincing
hmmmm...
i'm afraid this debate doesn't do it for me
neither pugilist is up to the task
neither opponent has sufficient marston's pedigree
fireseed still musing
fireseed still scratching under the surface
still looking for answers
still trying to fathom the eternal mystery
Monday, December 10, 2007
MARCH IN DECEMBER
we should have brought a canoe
the filthy december weather well n truly rains on our parade
by the time we start shuffling along millbank
we're already soaked to the skin
and the 'wanted - george bush climate cowboy' placards
are disintegrating
though i do think this criticism is a little personal
georgie boy's only doing what he's told to, after all
come to think of it
where are all the 'gordon is a moron' signs?
we stream past the empty houses of parliament
with its big black security shed
and sail on up whitehall
past the home of the moron
where a letter of protest is presented
as the throng flows up the hill to trafalgar square
the noise of a jazz band
a dancing polar bear
and a big all-the-colours-of-the-rainbow keep up the spirits
with my attempts stalling to get a 'cut the carbon' chant going
and no banner to wave
i make a mental note to come better prepared next time round
as many saucepans and whistles
and as much other noise-making equipment as possible
at the end of the monopoly board in mayfair
a line of police in fluorescent jackets cross grosvenor square
protecting the dull concrete monolith of the us embassy
from the aggressive likes of the south lakeland wdm-ers
up on the tiny stump in the corner of the square
chris huhne announces the exact number of days and hours
that gb has left as president
as if the fossil fool has a monopoly on capitalism
according to caroline lucas
a vegan in a 4wd is better for cc
than a meat-eater on a bicycle
(or a veggie in a vw polo?)
guess that gives me carte blanche to ask santa for a humvee!
george monbiot predictably blows the other speakers away
he begins by telling us about an efficient new system
of carbon capture and storage
that requires no new technology or investment
the name of this revolutionary solution?
'leaving fossil fuels in the ground'
george warns us of a government busy trying to manage energy demand
that asks us to switch to low-energy lightbulbs
and stop using plastic bags
while it utterly fails to manage the supply of energy
opening huge opencast coal pits in wales
and handing out subsidies to north sea oil companies
for every last drop or crumb dug out of the ground
will be burned
george digs out some frightening stats:
at current growth rates
humankind will use the same amount of resources over the next twenty years
as we have since we first walked on two legs
then george utters the dreaded c-word
'capitalism'
a system that depends on never-ending growth
that relies on ever-increasing consumption of resources
so that it makes a return on its investments
a system that would bring down the biosphere
a system that would bring down the human race
a system that would give a new meaning to 'the end of history'
oh a revolution is surely what we need
economic
political
philosophical
ethical
spiritual
revolution
a revolution in our hearts and minds
for there is no planet b!...
we get home and turn on the telly to see the coverage
we sit through stories about a canoeist con man
maggie thatcher laying a wreath at westminster abbey
one of our boys killed in afghanistan
but there's nowt about our march through the cold rain
so what?
so we need to shout louder!
the filthy december weather well n truly rains on our parade
by the time we start shuffling along millbank
we're already soaked to the skin
and the 'wanted - george bush climate cowboy' placards
are disintegrating
though i do think this criticism is a little personal
georgie boy's only doing what he's told to, after all
come to think of it
where are all the 'gordon is a moron' signs?
we stream past the empty houses of parliament
with its big black security shed
and sail on up whitehall
past the home of the moron
where a letter of protest is presented
as the throng flows up the hill to trafalgar square
the noise of a jazz band
a dancing polar bear
and a big all-the-colours-of-the-rainbow keep up the spirits
with my attempts stalling to get a 'cut the carbon' chant going
and no banner to wave
i make a mental note to come better prepared next time round
as many saucepans and whistles
and as much other noise-making equipment as possible
at the end of the monopoly board in mayfair
a line of police in fluorescent jackets cross grosvenor square
protecting the dull concrete monolith of the us embassy
from the aggressive likes of the south lakeland wdm-ers
up on the tiny stump in the corner of the square
chris huhne announces the exact number of days and hours
that gb has left as president
as if the fossil fool has a monopoly on capitalism
according to caroline lucas
a vegan in a 4wd is better for cc
than a meat-eater on a bicycle
(or a veggie in a vw polo?)
guess that gives me carte blanche to ask santa for a humvee!
george monbiot predictably blows the other speakers away
he begins by telling us about an efficient new system
of carbon capture and storage
that requires no new technology or investment
the name of this revolutionary solution?
'leaving fossil fuels in the ground'
george warns us of a government busy trying to manage energy demand
that asks us to switch to low-energy lightbulbs
and stop using plastic bags
while it utterly fails to manage the supply of energy
opening huge opencast coal pits in wales
and handing out subsidies to north sea oil companies
for every last drop or crumb dug out of the ground
will be burned
george digs out some frightening stats:
at current growth rates
humankind will use the same amount of resources over the next twenty years
as we have since we first walked on two legs
then george utters the dreaded c-word
'capitalism'
a system that depends on never-ending growth
that relies on ever-increasing consumption of resources
so that it makes a return on its investments
a system that would bring down the biosphere
a system that would bring down the human race
a system that would give a new meaning to 'the end of history'
oh a revolution is surely what we need
economic
political
philosophical
ethical
spiritual
revolution
a revolution in our hearts and minds
for there is no planet b!...
we get home and turn on the telly to see the coverage
we sit through stories about a canoeist con man
maggie thatcher laying a wreath at westminster abbey
one of our boys killed in afghanistan
but there's nowt about our march through the cold rain
so what?
so we need to shout louder!
Friday, December 07, 2007
OWN GOALS
a word of warning, dear readers
we are on the subject of the meaning of life today
(ed: but isn't that your subject every day?
fireseed: oh shut up, ed!)
so let us start with some fundamental questions:
what is it that makes you get out of bed of a morning?
what makes you tick?
what are your goals in life?
what drives you?
think for a moment
is it money?
saving up to buy a new car
a new kitchen
a weekend break in spain
the children's school fees
'financial security'?
paying off the bricks and mortar
building up the pension
making provision for a comfortable dotage
looking after the family's welfare?
making sure the kids are fedwasheddressednreadyforschool
that hubby's shirt is ironed and his lunchbox packed
'success'?
the approval of others
getting a promotion
maximising sales and profits for the firm
boosting your commissions or bonuses
getting a rise
(oops! we seem to have strayed onto money again)
status
prestige
praise
acknowledgement
recognition
a pat on the back
a sense of importance
adulation
fame
glory
or perhaps the allure of romance?
the search for mr or mrs right
love at first sight
the trophy wife
a soulmate
the moon in june
(ed: what?! in december?
fireseed: i thought i told you to shut up, ed!)
or perhaps something more basic?
great sex
a 10 out of 10 body
the 'ultimate screw'
a beautiful mind?
maybe the footy or the cricket?
if only we can stay in the premiership
if we win our next match, we'll move up to 12th place
shopping?
a little bit of retail therapy
if i buy meself that new pair of shoes, then i'll be happy
christmas is coming!
hatred or revenge?
getting your own back on your vindictive boss
putting one over on that smarmy git in marketing
showing the playground bully a thing or two...
now for the sages of the east
all of these goals are somewhat problematic
representing as they do red herrings
wild goose chases
cul-de-sacs
dead ends
blind alleys
'sins' as opposed to 'virtues'
not in the sense of wickedness, you understand
but of mistaken thinking
in football parlance, own goals
because those goalposts keep moving
no sooner is the goal attained
than a new one takes its place
the thrill of the new shoes
or the car
or the 10 out of 10
quickly dies away
leaving a feeling of emptiness
repeated over and over again
this leads to a perpetual cycle of unhappiness and frustration
unsated and insatiable desire
i speak from experience
dissatisfaction of this kind is the story of my life
are there any echoes in yours?...
so what goals do the great sages suggest
in place of our futile deluded concerns?
what signposts do the world's great belief systems have to offer?
first and foremost
cultivate humility and compassion
by consciously developing the urge to relieve the suffering of others
we thereby relieve our own
cultivate both calmness and alertness of mind
these can be achieved through regular meditation
seek religious truth and right moral conduct
treading carefully among the landmines of atheism and theism
do not worship an all-powerful god
but keep your eyes pealed for signposts
in your search for a deeper understanding
of your own place in the universe
seek not the approval of others
for only you can divine your own truth
express yourself in art
paint
dance
make music
in short, follow your bliss
as joseph campbell said
according to the sages
buddha
lao-tse
jesus
muhammad
gandhi
these are worthy goals
which shall lead the willing seeker
through the dark forest of confusion and doubt
and out into the bright clearing
illuminated by the warm rays of happiness and fulfilment
we are on the subject of the meaning of life today
(ed: but isn't that your subject every day?
fireseed: oh shut up, ed!)
so let us start with some fundamental questions:
what is it that makes you get out of bed of a morning?
what makes you tick?
what are your goals in life?
what drives you?
think for a moment
is it money?
saving up to buy a new car
a new kitchen
a weekend break in spain
the children's school fees
'financial security'?
paying off the bricks and mortar
building up the pension
making provision for a comfortable dotage
looking after the family's welfare?
making sure the kids are fedwasheddressednreadyforschool
that hubby's shirt is ironed and his lunchbox packed
'success'?
the approval of others
getting a promotion
maximising sales and profits for the firm
boosting your commissions or bonuses
getting a rise
(oops! we seem to have strayed onto money again)
status
prestige
praise
acknowledgement
recognition
a pat on the back
a sense of importance
adulation
fame
glory
or perhaps the allure of romance?
the search for mr or mrs right
love at first sight
the trophy wife
a soulmate
the moon in june
(ed: what?! in december?
fireseed: i thought i told you to shut up, ed!)
or perhaps something more basic?
great sex
a 10 out of 10 body
the 'ultimate screw'
a beautiful mind?
maybe the footy or the cricket?
if only we can stay in the premiership
if we win our next match, we'll move up to 12th place
shopping?
a little bit of retail therapy
if i buy meself that new pair of shoes, then i'll be happy
christmas is coming!
hatred or revenge?
getting your own back on your vindictive boss
putting one over on that smarmy git in marketing
showing the playground bully a thing or two...
now for the sages of the east
all of these goals are somewhat problematic
representing as they do red herrings
wild goose chases
cul-de-sacs
dead ends
blind alleys
'sins' as opposed to 'virtues'
not in the sense of wickedness, you understand
but of mistaken thinking
in football parlance, own goals
because those goalposts keep moving
no sooner is the goal attained
than a new one takes its place
the thrill of the new shoes
or the car
or the 10 out of 10
quickly dies away
leaving a feeling of emptiness
repeated over and over again
this leads to a perpetual cycle of unhappiness and frustration
unsated and insatiable desire
i speak from experience
dissatisfaction of this kind is the story of my life
are there any echoes in yours?...
so what goals do the great sages suggest
in place of our futile deluded concerns?
what signposts do the world's great belief systems have to offer?
first and foremost
cultivate humility and compassion
by consciously developing the urge to relieve the suffering of others
we thereby relieve our own
cultivate both calmness and alertness of mind
these can be achieved through regular meditation
seek religious truth and right moral conduct
treading carefully among the landmines of atheism and theism
do not worship an all-powerful god
but keep your eyes pealed for signposts
in your search for a deeper understanding
of your own place in the universe
seek not the approval of others
for only you can divine your own truth
express yourself in art
paint
dance
make music
in short, follow your bliss
as joseph campbell said
according to the sages
buddha
lao-tse
jesus
muhammad
gandhi
these are worthy goals
which shall lead the willing seeker
through the dark forest of confusion and doubt
and out into the bright clearing
illuminated by the warm rays of happiness and fulfilment
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
TO BE OR NOT TO BE
to be or not to be
that is the question
whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
or to take arms against a sea of troubles
and by opposing, end them...
been re-reading a book called free to be human
by david edwards
one half of medialens
if you haven't read this fascinating enquiry
then do yourself a favour
go out and buy yourself a copy now
and peruse thoroughly
it will broaden your mind
it will knock your socks off
it will repay your investment in spades
assuming of course that you suspend judgement
and pay mr edwards' ideas due attention
F2BH has an eloquent subtitle
summing up the contents most succintly:
intellectual self-defence in an age of illusions
so what can i tell you about this illuminating thesis
in the bite-sized space of a blog post?
well, essentially so the theory goes
those of us living in a 'liberal democracy'
(that's me and very likely you, dear internet reader)
are cheerfully labouring under the illusion
that we have attained freedom in thought and deed
both political and personal
however it turns out that we are very much mistaken
this misplaced assumption being our single biggest obstacle to genuine freedom
for the sad reality is that vested interests keep us stupid
unaware
ignorant
disenfranchised
apathetic
self-obsessed
our understanding of personal, ethical and spiritual issues fatally compromised
but why should this be, you ask, unconvinced?
because the goals of society are formulated by a powerful elite
our business leaders and political masters
who create the rules by which we all shall live
the framing conditions of our society:
that economic growth must be maximised
that corporate profit must be maximised
that these desired outcomes must be fuelled by mass production
and stoked by endless mass consumption
with all its planned obselescence
in order to keep us co-operative and compliant
this growth imperative mantra
must be chanted endlessly by the fourth estate
shouted from the rooftops by our ever-informative media
no conspiracy theory required, folks
because the framing conditions ensure
that those who play by the rules
the journalists who tell us the 'right' things
the executives who maximise profits for their shareholders
at whatever cost
will thrive
while those who are not willing to play ball
will be ridiculed, marginalised and quickly dispensed with
is it little wonder that our natural environment is despoiled
unable to cope with this full-scale assault
unable to provide exponentially increasing quantities of resources
or replenish itself at the required rate?
ecology be damned!
people and animals exist as mere fodder for the industrial machine
only it's easier to spot among the factory farms
and in the sweat shops and slums of the third world
where the impoverished masses starve
as we liberal democrats plunder their resources
worse still
our search for religious truth has been waylaid
by the convenient red herring of atheism
a power religion that ensures a good buying environment
that encourages us to consume ever more voraciously
and discourages any genuine spiritual enquiry
into our relationship with the universe
our place in the cosmos
and as for our sense of morality
it has been corrupted by the mistaken notion
that if we can get away with a misdemeanour
in the absence of punishment by a vengeful god or by society
then why not?
what can be the harm in it?
we do not see that the mistake itself is its own punishment
condemning us to suffer chaos
for do we need to punish the child
for burning its finger in the flame?
(blair n bush beware!)
so here we are
basking in the bright sunshine of our freedom
reduced to an army of stupified zombies sleepwalking to oblivion
waiting for christmas
bored, deadened and alienated
as our despoiled world festers and dies around us...
but fear not, dear reader
as the tears flow down your cheeks
for mr edwards' conclusion is ultimately hopeful:
with effort and discipline
we can acquire the intellectual tools
to take up arms against our sea of troubles
and by opposing, end them...
that is the question
whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
or to take arms against a sea of troubles
and by opposing, end them...
been re-reading a book called free to be human
by david edwards
one half of medialens
if you haven't read this fascinating enquiry
then do yourself a favour
go out and buy yourself a copy now
and peruse thoroughly
it will broaden your mind
it will knock your socks off
it will repay your investment in spades
assuming of course that you suspend judgement
and pay mr edwards' ideas due attention
F2BH has an eloquent subtitle
summing up the contents most succintly:
intellectual self-defence in an age of illusions
so what can i tell you about this illuminating thesis
in the bite-sized space of a blog post?
well, essentially so the theory goes
those of us living in a 'liberal democracy'
(that's me and very likely you, dear internet reader)
are cheerfully labouring under the illusion
that we have attained freedom in thought and deed
both political and personal
however it turns out that we are very much mistaken
this misplaced assumption being our single biggest obstacle to genuine freedom
for the sad reality is that vested interests keep us stupid
unaware
ignorant
disenfranchised
apathetic
self-obsessed
our understanding of personal, ethical and spiritual issues fatally compromised
but why should this be, you ask, unconvinced?
because the goals of society are formulated by a powerful elite
our business leaders and political masters
who create the rules by which we all shall live
the framing conditions of our society:
that economic growth must be maximised
that corporate profit must be maximised
that these desired outcomes must be fuelled by mass production
and stoked by endless mass consumption
with all its planned obselescence
in order to keep us co-operative and compliant
this growth imperative mantra
must be chanted endlessly by the fourth estate
shouted from the rooftops by our ever-informative media
no conspiracy theory required, folks
because the framing conditions ensure
that those who play by the rules
the journalists who tell us the 'right' things
the executives who maximise profits for their shareholders
at whatever cost
will thrive
while those who are not willing to play ball
will be ridiculed, marginalised and quickly dispensed with
is it little wonder that our natural environment is despoiled
unable to cope with this full-scale assault
unable to provide exponentially increasing quantities of resources
or replenish itself at the required rate?
ecology be damned!
people and animals exist as mere fodder for the industrial machine
only it's easier to spot among the factory farms
and in the sweat shops and slums of the third world
where the impoverished masses starve
as we liberal democrats plunder their resources
worse still
our search for religious truth has been waylaid
by the convenient red herring of atheism
a power religion that ensures a good buying environment
that encourages us to consume ever more voraciously
and discourages any genuine spiritual enquiry
into our relationship with the universe
our place in the cosmos
and as for our sense of morality
it has been corrupted by the mistaken notion
that if we can get away with a misdemeanour
in the absence of punishment by a vengeful god or by society
then why not?
what can be the harm in it?
we do not see that the mistake itself is its own punishment
condemning us to suffer chaos
for do we need to punish the child
for burning its finger in the flame?
(blair n bush beware!)
so here we are
basking in the bright sunshine of our freedom
reduced to an army of stupified zombies sleepwalking to oblivion
waiting for christmas
bored, deadened and alienated
as our despoiled world festers and dies around us...
but fear not, dear reader
as the tears flow down your cheeks
for mr edwards' conclusion is ultimately hopeful:
with effort and discipline
we can acquire the intellectual tools
to take up arms against our sea of troubles
and by opposing, end them...
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
CONVERSATION
gandhi: it is a privilege to meet you, osama
how is life treating you these days?
bin laden: i cannot complain
for i have all the resources i need to live in safety and comfort, insha'allah
gandhi: our lives have interesting parallels, do they not?
you, sir, fighting to repel the world's current superpower
much as i fought to expel the 20th century british imperialists from my homeland
bin laden: yes, mahatma, we have much in common
although our methods clearly differ
gandhi: indeed, sir
and it is precisely these differences that i wish to discuss with you today
for differences are not things to be merely tolerated or respected
but are to be cherished
bin laden: you intrigue me, mahatma
please go on
gandhi: well, by encountering contrary views
one is forced to re-examine one's own version of the truth
perhaps to gain glimpses of a higher truth
and to adjust one's view
to grow from truth to truth
for truth cannot be absolute, only experimental
bin laden: do you mean a provisional answer to life?
gandhi: yes, exactly
bin laden: in that case, i am in full agreement
i assume that you take a great interest in my strategy to rid the holy land of the infidel
the armed struggle that al-qaeda wages against the persecution and oppression of my people
gandhi: yes, indeed
do you not agree that violence represents an admission of failure?
bin laden: in a sense, yes
but the western imperialists recognise only the power of the sword
it is useless trying to negotiate a peace with them
they occupy our lands
they kill our people
they steal our resources
they denigrate our culture
we believe that a jihad of the sword is our only recourse
gandhi: does not an eye for an eye make the whole world go blind?
does al-qaeda not try to extinguish the fire by pouring on petrol?
does it not try to cure the wound by deepening it?
have all other options really been exhausted?
as they insisted in south africa and in india
when i advocated the course of satyagraha, non-violent resistance
osama, in your position
i believe you have the power to be a force for great good
but for this to happen
you must extinguish the hatred you feel in your heart
for by degrading others through acts of violence
or even evil thoughts
you only degrade yourself
instead you must identify the weaknesses of the forces you oppose
then harness your resources against them
the great weakness of the western powers is their claim to benevolence
in the eyes of their own people and others
where this is clearly not the case
as we can see from the panic-stricken existence in the west
brought to bear by their 'war on terror'
just imagine the effect you could have, osama
were you to lay down arms
and seek ways to negotiate a peaceful withdrawal of western forces from the gulf
remember that what benefits others, in this case the citizens of the west, benefits you too
our basic human interests are identical
we cannot flourish while others suffer
after all you have to share the world with these people, like it or not
so you need to be cleverer than this
in india we challenged the injustices of the caste system by fasting
through 'voluntary crucifixion of the flesh', as i called it
bin laden: so what have you in mind for the arab world in its current plight?
gandhi: osama, i cannot provide you with the answers to your own problems
i seek merely to encourage you to pose the right questions
bin laden: it has been an honour to converse with you, mahatma
one day we shall see a peaceful world, insha'allah
gandhi: god willing, osama, god willing
how is life treating you these days?
bin laden: i cannot complain
for i have all the resources i need to live in safety and comfort, insha'allah
gandhi: our lives have interesting parallels, do they not?
you, sir, fighting to repel the world's current superpower
much as i fought to expel the 20th century british imperialists from my homeland
bin laden: yes, mahatma, we have much in common
although our methods clearly differ
gandhi: indeed, sir
and it is precisely these differences that i wish to discuss with you today
for differences are not things to be merely tolerated or respected
but are to be cherished
bin laden: you intrigue me, mahatma
please go on
gandhi: well, by encountering contrary views
one is forced to re-examine one's own version of the truth
perhaps to gain glimpses of a higher truth
and to adjust one's view
to grow from truth to truth
for truth cannot be absolute, only experimental
bin laden: do you mean a provisional answer to life?
gandhi: yes, exactly
bin laden: in that case, i am in full agreement
i assume that you take a great interest in my strategy to rid the holy land of the infidel
the armed struggle that al-qaeda wages against the persecution and oppression of my people
gandhi: yes, indeed
do you not agree that violence represents an admission of failure?
bin laden: in a sense, yes
but the western imperialists recognise only the power of the sword
it is useless trying to negotiate a peace with them
they occupy our lands
they kill our people
they steal our resources
they denigrate our culture
we believe that a jihad of the sword is our only recourse
gandhi: does not an eye for an eye make the whole world go blind?
does al-qaeda not try to extinguish the fire by pouring on petrol?
does it not try to cure the wound by deepening it?
have all other options really been exhausted?
as they insisted in south africa and in india
when i advocated the course of satyagraha, non-violent resistance
osama, in your position
i believe you have the power to be a force for great good
but for this to happen
you must extinguish the hatred you feel in your heart
for by degrading others through acts of violence
or even evil thoughts
you only degrade yourself
instead you must identify the weaknesses of the forces you oppose
then harness your resources against them
the great weakness of the western powers is their claim to benevolence
in the eyes of their own people and others
where this is clearly not the case
as we can see from the panic-stricken existence in the west
brought to bear by their 'war on terror'
just imagine the effect you could have, osama
were you to lay down arms
and seek ways to negotiate a peaceful withdrawal of western forces from the gulf
remember that what benefits others, in this case the citizens of the west, benefits you too
our basic human interests are identical
we cannot flourish while others suffer
after all you have to share the world with these people, like it or not
so you need to be cleverer than this
in india we challenged the injustices of the caste system by fasting
through 'voluntary crucifixion of the flesh', as i called it
bin laden: so what have you in mind for the arab world in its current plight?
gandhi: osama, i cannot provide you with the answers to your own problems
i seek merely to encourage you to pose the right questions
bin laden: it has been an honour to converse with you, mahatma
one day we shall see a peaceful world, insha'allah
gandhi: god willing, osama, god willing
Friday, November 23, 2007
TOOL TALK
okay gather round everyone and listen up
now this is a crow bar
this baby's a five foot one
but you can get six and even eight footers
like people
a crowbar is used for breaking up hard stubborn earth
like this clay soil
as well as for acts of criminality
it's got different shaped points on each end
check there are no shards of metal on the shaft before you use it
it ain't a swinging tool so you can wear gloves
bend your knees to avoid hurting your back
when you carry it hold it at the point of balance
when you put it down don't drop it
let your knuckles touch the ground before you let go...
now this is a rabbiting spade
also known as carmel's breakfast spoon
it's good for digging deep holes with nice straight sides
check the handle is securely attached to the shaft before you use it
use the ball of your foot when digging
don't use the middle of your foot
cos you can hurt your tendons
or your heel
cos your foot can slip and you can cut yourself
carry it by your side
with the blade pointing away from you...
this is a spirit level
you use it to check that posts are properly vertical
and rails are properly horizontal
it's a precision instrument so don't chuck it around
and don't leave it somewhere it could get trodden on
when you've finished using it
return it to the tool area...
these are wire cutters for cutting through gabions
when you carry them hold the lower handle
to avoid the jaws opening accidentally and giving you a nip
don't leave em in the long grass
as they can easily get lost
return them to the tool area...
this is a mattock
it's similar to a pickaxe
used for breaking up moderately hard earth
it's a swinging tool so don't wear gloves
the shaft and head are seperate
to make the tool easier to carry and store
when you put it together
you should be able to slide the head down the shaft
until it's about two inches from the bottom
if it can go any further don't use it as the head might fly off
when you're working
check there's no-one behind you
so you don't take a swing and hit them on the head
let the weight of the tool do the work
rather than your back...
this is tanalised timber
to prolong its life
it's been treated with a cocktail of nasty preservatives
including arsenic
when you carry it use gloves to protect your hands
and don't carry it over your shoulder
as you can get splinters in your neck...
as we're near water there are lots of rats
and lots of rat pee on site
which means there's a risk of leptospirosis or weil's disease
it's a nasty illness that attacks the spleen and other organs
and it can be fatal
make sure you wash your hands with soap and water
before you eat, drink or smoke
initial symptoms are similar to flu
but it can be treated with antibiotics if caught early enough...
the path slopes gently down the side of the reservoir
to a disabled access fishing platform
thick oozy mud clings to our boots like a spurned lover
spattering up and flying into our eyes
stray doggo lies every which way you turn
there is limitless potential for double entendres
when you're doing this kind of work
trev wants his hole filling
can you come and hold my end?
tool talk, anyone?
there are some characters
andy keeps reminding anyone who'll listen
about the hotdogs he's got for his dinner
ian will give the ground a brief prod with the crowbar
before wondering off for fifteen minutes
lee threatens to smash everyone's face in
pat's got a good line in corny jokes
did you hear about those two lads the police caught the other day?
one was drinking battery acid
the other was eating fireworks
one got charged
the other was let off
matt doesn't like the nuts channel
he thinks there's too much pornography on telly
as for derek
he's in his own world
but he enjoys sniggering at the smutty banter
now this is a crow bar
this baby's a five foot one
but you can get six and even eight footers
like people
a crowbar is used for breaking up hard stubborn earth
like this clay soil
as well as for acts of criminality
it's got different shaped points on each end
check there are no shards of metal on the shaft before you use it
it ain't a swinging tool so you can wear gloves
bend your knees to avoid hurting your back
when you carry it hold it at the point of balance
when you put it down don't drop it
let your knuckles touch the ground before you let go...
now this is a rabbiting spade
also known as carmel's breakfast spoon
it's good for digging deep holes with nice straight sides
check the handle is securely attached to the shaft before you use it
use the ball of your foot when digging
don't use the middle of your foot
cos you can hurt your tendons
or your heel
cos your foot can slip and you can cut yourself
carry it by your side
with the blade pointing away from you...
this is a spirit level
you use it to check that posts are properly vertical
and rails are properly horizontal
it's a precision instrument so don't chuck it around
and don't leave it somewhere it could get trodden on
when you've finished using it
return it to the tool area...
these are wire cutters for cutting through gabions
when you carry them hold the lower handle
to avoid the jaws opening accidentally and giving you a nip
don't leave em in the long grass
as they can easily get lost
return them to the tool area...
this is a mattock
it's similar to a pickaxe
used for breaking up moderately hard earth
it's a swinging tool so don't wear gloves
the shaft and head are seperate
to make the tool easier to carry and store
when you put it together
you should be able to slide the head down the shaft
until it's about two inches from the bottom
if it can go any further don't use it as the head might fly off
when you're working
check there's no-one behind you
so you don't take a swing and hit them on the head
let the weight of the tool do the work
rather than your back...
this is tanalised timber
to prolong its life
it's been treated with a cocktail of nasty preservatives
including arsenic
when you carry it use gloves to protect your hands
and don't carry it over your shoulder
as you can get splinters in your neck...
as we're near water there are lots of rats
and lots of rat pee on site
which means there's a risk of leptospirosis or weil's disease
it's a nasty illness that attacks the spleen and other organs
and it can be fatal
make sure you wash your hands with soap and water
before you eat, drink or smoke
initial symptoms are similar to flu
but it can be treated with antibiotics if caught early enough...
the path slopes gently down the side of the reservoir
to a disabled access fishing platform
thick oozy mud clings to our boots like a spurned lover
spattering up and flying into our eyes
stray doggo lies every which way you turn
there is limitless potential for double entendres
when you're doing this kind of work
trev wants his hole filling
can you come and hold my end?
tool talk, anyone?
there are some characters
andy keeps reminding anyone who'll listen
about the hotdogs he's got for his dinner
ian will give the ground a brief prod with the crowbar
before wondering off for fifteen minutes
lee threatens to smash everyone's face in
pat's got a good line in corny jokes
did you hear about those two lads the police caught the other day?
one was drinking battery acid
the other was eating fireworks
one got charged
the other was let off
matt doesn't like the nuts channel
he thinks there's too much pornography on telly
as for derek
he's in his own world
but he enjoys sniggering at the smutty banter
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
UN RE THERAPY
on a starless cold and frosty night
the quiet street is dimly illuminated
only by an occasional lampost
or a chink in carelessly drawn curtains
a light appears at an upstairs window
a golden parallelogram framed by the fenestration
unsoftened by curtains
broken only by a bust of apollo in silhouette
now a tall slim figure appears
dressed in a dark hooded top
and folds itself under a desk
the top of its blond head peeping above the parapet
blondie's head doesn't move
but stares intently ahead
mediatating on a bright white stream of pixels
glancing down as his fingers tap out a soliloquy
negative thoughts prey on his mind
the trivial and the not so trivial
the folding bicycle that will not properly unfold
the flat tyres that will not inflate
the sweaty old waterproof trousers with the pvc lining
the kneading blade of the breadmaker
with its pealing non-stick surface
the books and articles left unread
the kind words left unsaid
the arguments left unhealed
the hair left unkempt
the emails and letters left unwritten
the situations vacant left unsearched and unapplied for
the lies and insincerities he heard on the radio today
the denial and inertia
that leaves this planet sleepwalking into an uncertain future
this morning he hauled his carcass out of bed unusually early
to take advantage of the sleeping house
and the quiet dawn
to roll out his reclaimed yoga mat
to force his stiff limbs and joints
into unfamiliar positions
rusty old sutras left out in the rain
to regulate his breathing
to re-establish some mental and physical order
to reinstate a restful mind and good posture
to reconnect with god
to regain some peace
from the chaos and disorder that has reigned supreme
now blond boy is alone again in the quiet house
he types doggedly away
making it up as he goes along
sitting upright on the psychologist's couch
dredging up dark thoughts
from the canal of his mind
in search of what?
some sort of therapy?
the bright white pixel stream melts away into black
the tall blond hooded figure unfolds
and retreats
plunging the street into darkness once again
the quiet street is dimly illuminated
only by an occasional lampost
or a chink in carelessly drawn curtains
a light appears at an upstairs window
a golden parallelogram framed by the fenestration
unsoftened by curtains
broken only by a bust of apollo in silhouette
now a tall slim figure appears
dressed in a dark hooded top
and folds itself under a desk
the top of its blond head peeping above the parapet
blondie's head doesn't move
but stares intently ahead
mediatating on a bright white stream of pixels
glancing down as his fingers tap out a soliloquy
negative thoughts prey on his mind
the trivial and the not so trivial
the folding bicycle that will not properly unfold
the flat tyres that will not inflate
the sweaty old waterproof trousers with the pvc lining
the kneading blade of the breadmaker
with its pealing non-stick surface
the books and articles left unread
the kind words left unsaid
the arguments left unhealed
the hair left unkempt
the emails and letters left unwritten
the situations vacant left unsearched and unapplied for
the lies and insincerities he heard on the radio today
the denial and inertia
that leaves this planet sleepwalking into an uncertain future
this morning he hauled his carcass out of bed unusually early
to take advantage of the sleeping house
and the quiet dawn
to roll out his reclaimed yoga mat
to force his stiff limbs and joints
into unfamiliar positions
rusty old sutras left out in the rain
to regulate his breathing
to re-establish some mental and physical order
to reinstate a restful mind and good posture
to reconnect with god
to regain some peace
from the chaos and disorder that has reigned supreme
now blond boy is alone again in the quiet house
he types doggedly away
making it up as he goes along
sitting upright on the psychologist's couch
dredging up dark thoughts
from the canal of his mind
in search of what?
some sort of therapy?
the bright white pixel stream melts away into black
the tall blond hooded figure unfolds
and retreats
plunging the street into darkness once again
Thursday, November 15, 2007
STATE OF EMERGENCY
what would you do
if you were in a burning building
engulfed by smoke and flames?
what would you do
if your young child fell into a pond
and sank below the surface of the water?
what would you do
if your best friend collapsed to the floor
clutching their chest?
would you ignore what was happening
would you pretend that everything was alright
and hope the problem would go away?
our building is catching fire
our children are slipping into the pond
our friends
our families
our acquaintances
and everyone else
are starting to slump to the floor
and still we turn a blind eye
still we hope that somebody else will take notice
that someone else will call the fire brigade
call for an ambulance
call the police
make no mistake about it, my seeds
this is a state of emergency
and incredible as it may seem
our leaders
our greaters and betters
the powers that bee
are looking the other way
so tell me
are we really going to allow this to happen?
if you were in a burning building
engulfed by smoke and flames?
what would you do
if your young child fell into a pond
and sank below the surface of the water?
what would you do
if your best friend collapsed to the floor
clutching their chest?
would you ignore what was happening
would you pretend that everything was alright
and hope the problem would go away?
our building is catching fire
our children are slipping into the pond
our friends
our families
our acquaintances
and everyone else
are starting to slump to the floor
and still we turn a blind eye
still we hope that somebody else will take notice
that someone else will call the fire brigade
call for an ambulance
call the police
make no mistake about it, my seeds
this is a state of emergency
and incredible as it may seem
our leaders
our greaters and betters
the powers that bee
are looking the other way
so tell me
are we really going to allow this to happen?
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
FOOTSOLDIER
as i leave the house on the hill
the sky threatens grim and grey
the menacing air damp and chill
mud spatters up from the road
stippling my jacket and shorts
the terrain slopes down to the river rea
then rises again abruptly to the eastern suburbs
i top the crest of another hill
then drop down into an unfamiliar suburb
a part of town where the faces are all alien
south asians
indians
pakistanis
bangladeshis
now the clouds part
and the dirty rain falls from the sky
soaking and blanketing me in a grimy cold chill
i park up the machine
and begin to make my way slowly
up the long curving terrace
draughty victorian houses
with steep gables
sheltering gothic windows
split in two by corinthian mullions
new pvc porches are de rigeur
but i focus on the letterboxes
some are at waist level
others strangely positioned
a mere inch above the step like a cat flap
a few are vertical
most horizontal
occasionally boxes have been built into the brickwork
unfortunately
draughty wide-open old-fashioned slots
convenient for sliding a leaflet through
are few n far between
most are more like man-eating plants
clamping my hand and stubbornly refusing to let go
as the rain pours down on my unprotected head
i quickly gain more respect for postmen
i gingerly extract damp yellow 'climate chaos' leaflets
one by one from a plastic bag
endeavouring not to pulp and shred them
as my knuckles are jammed between the stiff nylon brushes
the water overflows the gutters
and courses down drainpipes of porches
decorated with greetings written in arabic
a few cliched barking dogs cower behind curtains
but none is as lethal as the man-eating letterboxes
face to face encounters are few
an afro-caribbean man humps a gigantic tv set up the stairs
a lady in a headscarf thanks me
for retrieving her keys from her front door
an over-excited dog sets on me
as his owner sets out on a walk
i reach the end of grove road
double back on myself and turn into nansen and greswolde
where do these names originate?
as the sun pokes its head out
i run out of leaflets
and head damply homewards
footsoldiering done for the day
the sky threatens grim and grey
the menacing air damp and chill
mud spatters up from the road
stippling my jacket and shorts
the terrain slopes down to the river rea
then rises again abruptly to the eastern suburbs
i top the crest of another hill
then drop down into an unfamiliar suburb
a part of town where the faces are all alien
south asians
indians
pakistanis
bangladeshis
now the clouds part
and the dirty rain falls from the sky
soaking and blanketing me in a grimy cold chill
i park up the machine
and begin to make my way slowly
up the long curving terrace
draughty victorian houses
with steep gables
sheltering gothic windows
split in two by corinthian mullions
new pvc porches are de rigeur
but i focus on the letterboxes
some are at waist level
others strangely positioned
a mere inch above the step like a cat flap
a few are vertical
most horizontal
occasionally boxes have been built into the brickwork
unfortunately
draughty wide-open old-fashioned slots
convenient for sliding a leaflet through
are few n far between
most are more like man-eating plants
clamping my hand and stubbornly refusing to let go
as the rain pours down on my unprotected head
i quickly gain more respect for postmen
i gingerly extract damp yellow 'climate chaos' leaflets
one by one from a plastic bag
endeavouring not to pulp and shred them
as my knuckles are jammed between the stiff nylon brushes
the water overflows the gutters
and courses down drainpipes of porches
decorated with greetings written in arabic
a few cliched barking dogs cower behind curtains
but none is as lethal as the man-eating letterboxes
face to face encounters are few
an afro-caribbean man humps a gigantic tv set up the stairs
a lady in a headscarf thanks me
for retrieving her keys from her front door
an over-excited dog sets on me
as his owner sets out on a walk
i reach the end of grove road
double back on myself and turn into nansen and greswolde
where do these names originate?
as the sun pokes its head out
i run out of leaflets
and head damply homewards
footsoldiering done for the day
Monday, November 12, 2007
VISION
i live in a place i am proud of
a place i can truly call home
somewhere unique
like nowhere else
in a neighbourhood where i know everyone by name
and understand what makes them tick
my home is comfortable all year round
cool and fresh at the height of summer
cosy and warm in the depths of winter
it generates all the power we need
fuel bills are a thing of the past
our street belongs not to cars
but to people
children play in the road
people sit in the sun
walk
cycle
or stand in the middle of the road chatting
when i step out of my front door
the air is clean and fresh
i eat a healthy diet
my vegetables and fruit are locally grown
i even grow some myself
there is plenty of work for everyone to do in my locality
people don't have to commute
or sit in traffic jams
or fight over parking spaces
everything we need is a short walk or cycle ride away
i own only things that i love and value
i don't waste months every year
working to buy possessions i don't need
or an oil-guzzler i don't want
travelling has become a real adventure again
the journey is a thrill
and every destination has its own distinctive character
people feel the need to leave the community
only when they have a special reason
and when they arrive
they are welcomed as honoured guests
the wonders of modern technology
medicine
surgery
electronic gadgets
the excitement of speed, power and noise
are rare and special
and never simply taken for granted
citizens of all politics, classes and cultures
are able to put aside their differences
and come together with a common purpose
that of ensuring
that every man, woman and child
every beast and sentient being
in this great big unjust world of ours
has the same inalienable rights
to a decent standard of health and living
a place i can truly call home
somewhere unique
like nowhere else
in a neighbourhood where i know everyone by name
and understand what makes them tick
my home is comfortable all year round
cool and fresh at the height of summer
cosy and warm in the depths of winter
it generates all the power we need
fuel bills are a thing of the past
our street belongs not to cars
but to people
children play in the road
people sit in the sun
walk
cycle
or stand in the middle of the road chatting
when i step out of my front door
the air is clean and fresh
i eat a healthy diet
my vegetables and fruit are locally grown
i even grow some myself
there is plenty of work for everyone to do in my locality
people don't have to commute
or sit in traffic jams
or fight over parking spaces
everything we need is a short walk or cycle ride away
i own only things that i love and value
i don't waste months every year
working to buy possessions i don't need
or an oil-guzzler i don't want
travelling has become a real adventure again
the journey is a thrill
and every destination has its own distinctive character
people feel the need to leave the community
only when they have a special reason
and when they arrive
they are welcomed as honoured guests
the wonders of modern technology
medicine
surgery
electronic gadgets
the excitement of speed, power and noise
are rare and special
and never simply taken for granted
citizens of all politics, classes and cultures
are able to put aside their differences
and come together with a common purpose
that of ensuring
that every man, woman and child
every beast and sentient being
in this great big unjust world of ours
has the same inalienable rights
to a decent standard of health and living
Sunday, November 11, 2007
QUARTER
sometimes things don't work out as planned
what i was trying to say
may not always come out right
it might get mixed up
or misplaced
or read in a different context
the art of living is personal
but it shouldn't be taken personally
i realize i ain't the most tactful of people
i say and do a lotta things that i feel sorry about afterwards
though more often than not
it's the things i don't do that i regret
the thing you gotta remember about the art of living
is that it ain't a polished piece of work
nor a carefully edited text
it ain't a peer-reviewed paper
nor a prettily packaged product
it certainly ain't the finished article
the aol is what i feel like typing out
when i got enough p & q
to sit down at my sliding desk for a few minutes
i boot up
sign in
prod away at the keys
check for typos
change any bits that don't scan
remedy the clumsy misturns of phrase
then publish the post
it's raw and it's instant
and it certainly ain't perfect
the aol ain't always logical or rational either
it's more an aspiration
a search for truth
a detective trail
uncovering the meaning that lurks in the shadows
just below the surface
an ambitious goal
an honest confession
a winding road
a convoluted journey
a messy canvas
a stuttering story with a mistimed punchline
an evolving attitude
an open mindset
the aol is a little bit like democracy
it's something that has to be protected
nurtured
and fought for every day
sometimes it stumbles around hopelessly in the dark
other times it is drawn unblinkingly forward
toward a pure white shining light
it's like a punchbag
or one of those weird wobbly children's toys
that takes the punches
absorbs the punishment and pain
and keeps on bouncing back
it makes mistakes
and sometimes it probably makes enemies
but above all
it gives quarter
and expects it in return
what i was trying to say
may not always come out right
it might get mixed up
or misplaced
or read in a different context
the art of living is personal
but it shouldn't be taken personally
i realize i ain't the most tactful of people
i say and do a lotta things that i feel sorry about afterwards
though more often than not
it's the things i don't do that i regret
the thing you gotta remember about the art of living
is that it ain't a polished piece of work
nor a carefully edited text
it ain't a peer-reviewed paper
nor a prettily packaged product
it certainly ain't the finished article
the aol is what i feel like typing out
when i got enough p & q
to sit down at my sliding desk for a few minutes
i boot up
sign in
prod away at the keys
check for typos
change any bits that don't scan
remedy the clumsy misturns of phrase
then publish the post
it's raw and it's instant
and it certainly ain't perfect
the aol ain't always logical or rational either
it's more an aspiration
a search for truth
a detective trail
uncovering the meaning that lurks in the shadows
just below the surface
an ambitious goal
an honest confession
a winding road
a convoluted journey
a messy canvas
a stuttering story with a mistimed punchline
an evolving attitude
an open mindset
the aol is a little bit like democracy
it's something that has to be protected
nurtured
and fought for every day
sometimes it stumbles around hopelessly in the dark
other times it is drawn unblinkingly forward
toward a pure white shining light
it's like a punchbag
or one of those weird wobbly children's toys
that takes the punches
absorbs the punishment and pain
and keeps on bouncing back
it makes mistakes
and sometimes it probably makes enemies
but above all
it gives quarter
and expects it in return
Thursday, November 08, 2007
WHO WAS SHANE?
shane worked at selly oak cycles
next to birmingham & solihull connexions
shane passed away on may 26th 2006
so the sign on the door says
shane smiles out from a framed photograph on the wall
looking vigorous and indestructible
shane worked among the grease and the grime
of the small shop he owned and ran with with brother
open monday to saturday
closed on wednesdays
spanners and allen keys were the tools of shane's trade
his fingers got into tight spaces
detaching chains and adjusting brakes
replacing inner tubes and pumping up tyres
shane was always honest about what needed doing
and always charged customers a fair price
unlike the cowboys
who thought nothing of ripping off their punters
left, right and centre
who undercut his prices and starved him of income
and the out-of-own supermarkets
who piled the bikes high and sold em cheap
whether they worked or not
shane once fixed the gears
of the tall, angular, well-spoken chap in tight cycle shorts
standing by the counter
shane rode a dawes galaxy worth 1700 squid
with click gears and brakes that worked in syncronicity
shane was graham's big brother
shane was paul's elder son
shane was just 27 years old when he died
shane's life ended in st mary's hospice
round the corner in raddlebarn road
shane's dad is still bitter about how it happened
he still can't accept it
the hospital staff told shane's family to bring in his clothes
his mum and dad and brother assumed shane would soon be going home
but it was not to be
shane passed away without ever putting on his clothes
shane died of a brain tumour
but his memory
his workshop
his cycle maintainance skills
and his ethics
live on
next to birmingham & solihull connexions
shane passed away on may 26th 2006
so the sign on the door says
shane smiles out from a framed photograph on the wall
looking vigorous and indestructible
shane worked among the grease and the grime
of the small shop he owned and ran with with brother
open monday to saturday
closed on wednesdays
spanners and allen keys were the tools of shane's trade
his fingers got into tight spaces
detaching chains and adjusting brakes
replacing inner tubes and pumping up tyres
shane was always honest about what needed doing
and always charged customers a fair price
unlike the cowboys
who thought nothing of ripping off their punters
left, right and centre
who undercut his prices and starved him of income
and the out-of-own supermarkets
who piled the bikes high and sold em cheap
whether they worked or not
shane once fixed the gears
of the tall, angular, well-spoken chap in tight cycle shorts
standing by the counter
shane rode a dawes galaxy worth 1700 squid
with click gears and brakes that worked in syncronicity
shane was graham's big brother
shane was paul's elder son
shane was just 27 years old when he died
shane's life ended in st mary's hospice
round the corner in raddlebarn road
shane's dad is still bitter about how it happened
he still can't accept it
the hospital staff told shane's family to bring in his clothes
his mum and dad and brother assumed shane would soon be going home
but it was not to be
shane passed away without ever putting on his clothes
shane died of a brain tumour
but his memory
his workshop
his cycle maintainance skills
and his ethics
live on
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
FORMAL COMPLAINT
reference #46245
dear sir or madam
this morning I put in a formal complaint at your office
regarding the state of manor farm park
the complaint related specifically to an information noticeboard
situated at the south-east entrance to the park
near the stable block
the notice has unfortunately been daubed with graffitti
making it semi-illegible
please can I request that the notice be scrubbed clean
in addition
the nearby rustic building and toilet block
at the top of the hill
both appear to be in a poor state of repair
and have also been attacked by vandals
the climbing frames in the children's playground
are in need of a good lick of paint
i am sorry to say that the park in general
has a very scruffy and neglected look about it
as if no-one cares about its upkeep
and given the current situation
it is no surprise to me that vandalism is a problem
would it be possible to employ someone
who has specific responsibility
for keeping the park in a decent condition
encouraging local people to take pride
in this excellent recreational facility?
i sincerely hope that urgent action can be taken on this matter
yours sincerely
fireseed
dear sir or madam
this morning I put in a formal complaint at your office
regarding the state of manor farm park
the complaint related specifically to an information noticeboard
situated at the south-east entrance to the park
near the stable block
the notice has unfortunately been daubed with graffitti
making it semi-illegible
please can I request that the notice be scrubbed clean
in addition
the nearby rustic building and toilet block
at the top of the hill
both appear to be in a poor state of repair
and have also been attacked by vandals
the climbing frames in the children's playground
are in need of a good lick of paint
i am sorry to say that the park in general
has a very scruffy and neglected look about it
as if no-one cares about its upkeep
and given the current situation
it is no surprise to me that vandalism is a problem
would it be possible to employ someone
who has specific responsibility
for keeping the park in a decent condition
encouraging local people to take pride
in this excellent recreational facility?
i sincerely hope that urgent action can be taken on this matter
yours sincerely
fireseed
ECG
so many things to say
so little time
so hard to get people's attention
so hard to make em listen
you just might be the only seed to read this blog this week
but i am grateful for your time
for checking in
for keeping the art of living alive
because i know ya don't have a lot of free time to play with
that in these turbo-charged times
every minute counts...
fireseed at the docs today
obviously not been eating enough apples
or maybe there haven't been enough days?
been feeling a few ominous twinges in the chest area
what could it signify?
lung problems?
(my good wife suggests tb)
heart disease?
an undiagnosed hereditary condition?
indigestion?
only old geezers suffer from that, don't they?
general overindulgence?
fireseed has put on about a stone since returning to blighty
gluten intolerance?
been overdoing the muesli and home-baked wholewheat bread?
anyways
old dr shastri's stethoscope ain't revealing much
and he ain't at all sure what might be causing the twinges
so as a precautionary measure
he asks me to book in for an electrocardiogram
i strip to my waist
lie down on a couch
with my steel toecaps dangling over the end
grimace while the nurse sticks the cold patches
to my tender midriff
try to avert my eyes as she clips on the electrodes
brace myself for an electric shock
but hear only a rumbling noise from the machine
as it produces a print-out of what my heart is up to
the nurse says we're all done
and i pull my manifesto t back on to regain my dignity
she says the results look normal at first glance
and i've got a resting pulse of just over 60
which is good apparently
i tell her i've just cycled up to the surgery
in my usual last-gasp eleventh-hour full-throttle fashion
she looks mildly impressed
so perhaps there's a bit of life in the old dog yet...
so little time
so hard to get people's attention
so hard to make em listen
you just might be the only seed to read this blog this week
but i am grateful for your time
for checking in
for keeping the art of living alive
because i know ya don't have a lot of free time to play with
that in these turbo-charged times
every minute counts...
fireseed at the docs today
obviously not been eating enough apples
or maybe there haven't been enough days?
been feeling a few ominous twinges in the chest area
what could it signify?
lung problems?
(my good wife suggests tb)
heart disease?
an undiagnosed hereditary condition?
indigestion?
only old geezers suffer from that, don't they?
general overindulgence?
fireseed has put on about a stone since returning to blighty
gluten intolerance?
been overdoing the muesli and home-baked wholewheat bread?
anyways
old dr shastri's stethoscope ain't revealing much
and he ain't at all sure what might be causing the twinges
so as a precautionary measure
he asks me to book in for an electrocardiogram
i strip to my waist
lie down on a couch
with my steel toecaps dangling over the end
grimace while the nurse sticks the cold patches
to my tender midriff
try to avert my eyes as she clips on the electrodes
brace myself for an electric shock
but hear only a rumbling noise from the machine
as it produces a print-out of what my heart is up to
the nurse says we're all done
and i pull my manifesto t back on to regain my dignity
she says the results look normal at first glance
and i've got a resting pulse of just over 60
which is good apparently
i tell her i've just cycled up to the surgery
in my usual last-gasp eleventh-hour full-throttle fashion
she looks mildly impressed
so perhaps there's a bit of life in the old dog yet...
Monday, October 29, 2007
TODAY'S SPECIAL
machynlleth high street
as opposed to low street
(there are only two streets)
in the wholefood café
today’s special
tomato and mushroom pasta bake
couscous with black olives and tomatoes
sweet beetroot salad
crispy green n purple lettuce
peanuts n celery n soyannaise
mmmmmmm...a riot of colours n flavours
vegans
what the hell do they eat?!
this is a place where people have something to say
the notice board is overflowing
yoga
aromatherapy
courses at cat
et al
there's a national cycleway map up on the wall
families with children
enjoying each other’s company
not shrieking or swearing at each other
or telling the kids that they are naughty or stupid
but smiles n laughter
a friendly at-most-fear
my kind of people
a blonde lady arrives at the table next to me
pushing along a chubby little toddler in a buggy
a chap stands up and gives her a hug
long time no c
the little girl in the pushchair
has blonde curls and gorgeous blue eyes
she looks just like her mum
but she's shy and won’t look at mum's friend
she catches my eye instead
i smile and give her a wink
cute little kids like this one
always remind me of hannah these days
especially when i’m away from home
the blonde lady and pal chat away in welsh
as i munch on my lunch
the voices and intonation sound oddly like English
there is little of the expected lilt
it is just the words that are different
among the stream of welsh
i half-overhear that the lady's daughter’s name is hannah too
then the little blonde girl and mum leave
and i feel a pang of sadness
that i will never see this beautiful child again
as an excuse to hang around the caf
i self-indulge
spicy lemon cake
washed down with coffee
fairly traded of course
i am keeping the place in business today
the welsh friend drops his computer disc under my feet
i stoop down and hand it back
a smile
thanks
no worries
i pull out carbon detox
george marshall’s exciting new book
that i was lapping up on the train
while the stunning views of welsh valleys tried to compete
the book is out tomorrow
but I picked up a copy
at the roadblock conference
after i'd sold the other nine
meanwhile
the welsh guy has gone
and the blonde lady has come back
unfortunately minus beautiful daughter
are you enjoying the book?
she asks suddenly
yeah great!
i know george
she says
he’s a friend of ours
wow really!
i tell her i ended up selling some copies on saturday
along with george monbiot’s
oh - george is my husband
she says casually
bloody hell!
i don’t say
what a coincidence
we introduce ourselves
the welsh chap is called ‘ale-ear’
at least that’s what it sounds like
george’s wife is called angharad
and seems a lot younger than george
but lovely and genuine
we sit and chat awhile
till abruptly they lapse into welsh again
to talk about a mutual friend
and i respectfully withdraw to my book
but i am not reading
just pondering over the strange reality
of meeting not one
but three monbiots in one day!
as opposed to low street
(there are only two streets)
in the wholefood café
today’s special
tomato and mushroom pasta bake
couscous with black olives and tomatoes
sweet beetroot salad
crispy green n purple lettuce
peanuts n celery n soyannaise
mmmmmmm...a riot of colours n flavours
vegans
what the hell do they eat?!
this is a place where people have something to say
the notice board is overflowing
yoga
aromatherapy
courses at cat
et al
there's a national cycleway map up on the wall
families with children
enjoying each other’s company
not shrieking or swearing at each other
or telling the kids that they are naughty or stupid
but smiles n laughter
a friendly at-most-fear
my kind of people
a blonde lady arrives at the table next to me
pushing along a chubby little toddler in a buggy
a chap stands up and gives her a hug
long time no c
the little girl in the pushchair
has blonde curls and gorgeous blue eyes
she looks just like her mum
but she's shy and won’t look at mum's friend
she catches my eye instead
i smile and give her a wink
cute little kids like this one
always remind me of hannah these days
especially when i’m away from home
the blonde lady and pal chat away in welsh
as i munch on my lunch
the voices and intonation sound oddly like English
there is little of the expected lilt
it is just the words that are different
among the stream of welsh
i half-overhear that the lady's daughter’s name is hannah too
then the little blonde girl and mum leave
and i feel a pang of sadness
that i will never see this beautiful child again
as an excuse to hang around the caf
i self-indulge
spicy lemon cake
washed down with coffee
fairly traded of course
i am keeping the place in business today
the welsh friend drops his computer disc under my feet
i stoop down and hand it back
a smile
thanks
no worries
i pull out carbon detox
george marshall’s exciting new book
that i was lapping up on the train
while the stunning views of welsh valleys tried to compete
the book is out tomorrow
but I picked up a copy
at the roadblock conference
after i'd sold the other nine
meanwhile
the welsh guy has gone
and the blonde lady has come back
unfortunately minus beautiful daughter
are you enjoying the book?
she asks suddenly
yeah great!
i know george
she says
he’s a friend of ours
wow really!
i tell her i ended up selling some copies on saturday
along with george monbiot’s
oh - george is my husband
she says casually
bloody hell!
i don’t say
what a coincidence
we introduce ourselves
the welsh chap is called ‘ale-ear’
at least that’s what it sounds like
george’s wife is called angharad
and seems a lot younger than george
but lovely and genuine
we sit and chat awhile
till abruptly they lapse into welsh again
to talk about a mutual friend
and i respectfully withdraw to my book
but i am not reading
just pondering over the strange reality
of meeting not one
but three monbiots in one day!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
KETCHUP
muse: it's been a while, my seedish boy
so what you been up to lately?
f-seed: oh nothing special
just the usual saving the planet type stuff
muse: and how did putting back the clocks go?
f-seed: made me realise how many damn time pieces we got in this place
but enjoyed the extra hour of kip this morning
muse: lazy git!
tell me about the sky
f-seed: amazing skies tonight
billowing azure clouds lined with gold at sunset
then fleeting silver across a bright moon
giving the stars the illusion of comets
a mysterious magical sky
muse: cool!
so pleased to be reconnected to the big www at long last?
f-seed: yep - what luxury
but i'll miss those trips to the public library
and the strictly disciplined thirty-minute blogging slots
watched over by those hawkish lady librarians
muse: you can say that again
so how's the little fireseed?
f-seed: funnier and funnier every day
but i'm getting a bit worried about that brummie accident of hers
it's got worse over the half-term break
to the point where she's starting to sound
like eddy grundy off the archers!
muse: oo...er...
so what was it like meeting your hero george monbiot yesterday?
f-seed: a real thrill
george is a true in-spear-ation
but what struck me most
apart from his obvious passion
was his humility and courteousness
not a hint of any big shot oxbridge-educated author-journalist pose
muse: sure am glad george didn't disappoint
so what's on the fireseed agenda for this week?
f-seed: got some pretty exciting stuff lined up actually
off to the wilds of wales on the morrow
to gen up on eco-design at CAT
muse: out in the wilds, eh?
so may not be able to post for a while?
f-seed: i'll do me level best, muse
don't want ya to get lonely!
now go out and take a look at that sky
before it clouds over
so what you been up to lately?
f-seed: oh nothing special
just the usual saving the planet type stuff
muse: and how did putting back the clocks go?
f-seed: made me realise how many damn time pieces we got in this place
but enjoyed the extra hour of kip this morning
muse: lazy git!
tell me about the sky
f-seed: amazing skies tonight
billowing azure clouds lined with gold at sunset
then fleeting silver across a bright moon
giving the stars the illusion of comets
a mysterious magical sky
muse: cool!
so pleased to be reconnected to the big www at long last?
f-seed: yep - what luxury
but i'll miss those trips to the public library
and the strictly disciplined thirty-minute blogging slots
watched over by those hawkish lady librarians
muse: you can say that again
so how's the little fireseed?
f-seed: funnier and funnier every day
but i'm getting a bit worried about that brummie accident of hers
it's got worse over the half-term break
to the point where she's starting to sound
like eddy grundy off the archers!
muse: oo...er...
so what was it like meeting your hero george monbiot yesterday?
f-seed: a real thrill
george is a true in-spear-ation
but what struck me most
apart from his obvious passion
was his humility and courteousness
not a hint of any big shot oxbridge-educated author-journalist pose
muse: sure am glad george didn't disappoint
so what's on the fireseed agenda for this week?
f-seed: got some pretty exciting stuff lined up actually
off to the wilds of wales on the morrow
to gen up on eco-design at CAT
muse: out in the wilds, eh?
so may not be able to post for a while?
f-seed: i'll do me level best, muse
don't want ya to get lonely!
now go out and take a look at that sky
before it clouds over
ROADBLOCK
up on the downs
gears crunch and engines whir
the mechanical beasts do their worst
cutting an angry swathe
through the exposed earth
belching diesel
drowning out birdsong
weaving their caterpillar tyre tracks
over an ugly new landscape of rutted clay
pallid concrete pillars stand witness
awkward lonely and disembodied
among messy piles of gravel
waiting for their burden
as the moon comes up
the little yellow men in hardhats
climb into their trucks
and rumble slowly homewards down the approach road
meanwhile
far away
to the east and to the south
on another side of the world
a scorching sun rises over the parched earth
there are no mechanical beasts here
only ones that were once flesh and blood
now reduced to skeletons
picked clean among the thin yellow grass of the plains
mourned by thirsty tearful children with huge empty bellies
many thousands of miles north
a frozen landscape creaks
tiny cracks appear
foul-smelling gases leak out
steamy clouds form in the clear air
the little yellow men in hard hats return
to drip a treacly trail of asphalt across the violated landscape
soon they will be done
and the economists will conduct further cost-benefit analyses
according to the new official vampire methodology
written in blood
accountants will move their figures from column to column
councillors and politicians will shift the pieces on their chessboard
showroom owners will rub their hands with glee
motorists will pat the keys in their pockets
a child in ethiopiia will breathe its last breath
another crack will open up silently in the arctic permafrost
not in my back yard
but in his back yard
in her back yard
in everybody's bloody back yard
an injury to one
is an injury to all
we are not nay sayers
but ye sayers
respectful of sound science
contemptuous of those who know the cost of everything
and the value of nothing
so i say tell me
if not now then when?
if not here then where?
if not us then who?
gears crunch and engines whir
the mechanical beasts do their worst
cutting an angry swathe
through the exposed earth
belching diesel
drowning out birdsong
weaving their caterpillar tyre tracks
over an ugly new landscape of rutted clay
pallid concrete pillars stand witness
awkward lonely and disembodied
among messy piles of gravel
waiting for their burden
as the moon comes up
the little yellow men in hardhats
climb into their trucks
and rumble slowly homewards down the approach road
meanwhile
far away
to the east and to the south
on another side of the world
a scorching sun rises over the parched earth
there are no mechanical beasts here
only ones that were once flesh and blood
now reduced to skeletons
picked clean among the thin yellow grass of the plains
mourned by thirsty tearful children with huge empty bellies
many thousands of miles north
a frozen landscape creaks
tiny cracks appear
foul-smelling gases leak out
steamy clouds form in the clear air
the little yellow men in hard hats return
to drip a treacly trail of asphalt across the violated landscape
soon they will be done
and the economists will conduct further cost-benefit analyses
according to the new official vampire methodology
written in blood
accountants will move their figures from column to column
councillors and politicians will shift the pieces on their chessboard
showroom owners will rub their hands with glee
motorists will pat the keys in their pockets
a child in ethiopiia will breathe its last breath
another crack will open up silently in the arctic permafrost
not in my back yard
but in his back yard
in her back yard
in everybody's bloody back yard
an injury to one
is an injury to all
we are not nay sayers
but ye sayers
respectful of sound science
contemptuous of those who know the cost of everything
and the value of nothing
so i say tell me
if not now then when?
if not here then where?
if not us then who?
Monday, October 22, 2007
EDGE
i know a lot of sensible people
i come across them all the time
they are in fact ten a penny
they are prudent
they show caution
they play safe
they pay their insurance
they seek assurance
they want reassurance
they crave security
and condemn themselves
to a life of stultification
played out in denial
of the cold harsh reality
of the way the world is
terrified of danger
they evade risk
they are all flight and no fight
they reject the knife-edge
they are resigned to crawling along
in terror of what may lie yonder
outside the warm comfort zone
beyond the realms of possibility
afraid to push the envelope
or the boat out
they turn away from the glowing ember
that smoulders
in the twinkling twilight of the imagination
oh my seeds
let us cast off these chains
let us have the courage
to live life on the edge
as the orientals say
better to live one day as a tiger
than a thousand days as a sheep
i come across them all the time
they are in fact ten a penny
they are prudent
they show caution
they play safe
they pay their insurance
they seek assurance
they want reassurance
they crave security
and condemn themselves
to a life of stultification
played out in denial
of the cold harsh reality
of the way the world is
terrified of danger
they evade risk
they are all flight and no fight
they reject the knife-edge
they are resigned to crawling along
in terror of what may lie yonder
outside the warm comfort zone
beyond the realms of possibility
afraid to push the envelope
or the boat out
they turn away from the glowing ember
that smoulders
in the twinkling twilight of the imagination
oh my seeds
let us cast off these chains
let us have the courage
to live life on the edge
as the orientals say
better to live one day as a tiger
than a thousand days as a sheep
Monday, October 15, 2007
ARTERIAL
there's hardly a single place i know
and it fills my heart with grief and woe
for i can't find brummagem
william dobbs, 1825
we drop down out of sight
down to the water's edge
where the cold black inpenetrable water sits
snake oil patterns swirling on its surface
many a secret does it hide
way down in its depths
as we walk
the gravel crunches under our feet
and the damp morning chill makes us shiver
toadstools and fungi
exalt among the damp foliage
the breeze dislodges rusty leaves
one by one
silently they fall
to float on the canal
or to collect in crunchy piles
to my surprise
this hidden artery is a hive of activity
panting cyclists and runners breeze past
pressing us into ragged single file
on the opposite side of the water
at the bottom of a private garden
two empty chairs and a table
await their next view of the sunset
uncollected conkers litter the far bank
out of the reach of greedy schoolchildren
meanwhile hannah preoccupies herself with a pretty snail
attached to a broad green leaf
she is a little upset that she can't take it home
but cheers up
when she gets to put it to bed on a grassy verge
now the canal converges with the railway
fluorescent yellow workmen grumble and goad
huge victorian brick arches restrain a high bank
beside the two parallel tunnels
a red and green barge with a complaining engine
passes smoothly by
hannah gives the owner one of her cheery waves
as the boat slides nonchalantly into the tunnel's jaws
96 metres long
says the sign
our voices echo as we stamp through
mind your head, hannah
says funny uncle john
and everyone laughs
(hannah is three foot nothing!)
it is a relief to see daylight again
when we are disgorged from the other end
the landscape slowly becomes more urban
residential gardens give way
to tall sharp-angled buildings that climb skywards
at holliday wharf
canada geese couples court
under the watchful eye of steel cranes
then exotic golden figures catch our eyes
half woman half swan
peering out at us through a set of doors
a lunchtime special at kinaree is too inviting to refuse
i discover that the waitress and chef are from hat yai
on the thai-malaysia border
where i spent a half-remembered night way back in 1991
later we will continue on through gas street basin
through centenary and chamberlain squares
to the museum and art gallery
but for now
filling our hungry bellies is our only thought
and it fills my heart with grief and woe
for i can't find brummagem
william dobbs, 1825
we drop down out of sight
down to the water's edge
where the cold black inpenetrable water sits
snake oil patterns swirling on its surface
many a secret does it hide
way down in its depths
as we walk
the gravel crunches under our feet
and the damp morning chill makes us shiver
toadstools and fungi
exalt among the damp foliage
the breeze dislodges rusty leaves
one by one
silently they fall
to float on the canal
or to collect in crunchy piles
to my surprise
this hidden artery is a hive of activity
panting cyclists and runners breeze past
pressing us into ragged single file
on the opposite side of the water
at the bottom of a private garden
two empty chairs and a table
await their next view of the sunset
uncollected conkers litter the far bank
out of the reach of greedy schoolchildren
meanwhile hannah preoccupies herself with a pretty snail
attached to a broad green leaf
she is a little upset that she can't take it home
but cheers up
when she gets to put it to bed on a grassy verge
now the canal converges with the railway
fluorescent yellow workmen grumble and goad
huge victorian brick arches restrain a high bank
beside the two parallel tunnels
a red and green barge with a complaining engine
passes smoothly by
hannah gives the owner one of her cheery waves
as the boat slides nonchalantly into the tunnel's jaws
96 metres long
says the sign
our voices echo as we stamp through
mind your head, hannah
says funny uncle john
and everyone laughs
(hannah is three foot nothing!)
it is a relief to see daylight again
when we are disgorged from the other end
the landscape slowly becomes more urban
residential gardens give way
to tall sharp-angled buildings that climb skywards
at holliday wharf
canada geese couples court
under the watchful eye of steel cranes
then exotic golden figures catch our eyes
half woman half swan
peering out at us through a set of doors
a lunchtime special at kinaree is too inviting to refuse
i discover that the waitress and chef are from hat yai
on the thai-malaysia border
where i spent a half-remembered night way back in 1991
later we will continue on through gas street basin
through centenary and chamberlain squares
to the museum and art gallery
but for now
filling our hungry bellies is our only thought
Saturday, October 13, 2007
BEAUTY FULL
did you look?
did you notice?
did you see?
the beauty in every single thing
in the extremes of garbage and flowers
in the sorrow and joy
in the mayhem and tranquility
did you look?
did you notice?
did you see?
did you notice?
did you see?
the beauty in every single thing
in the extremes of garbage and flowers
in the sorrow and joy
in the mayhem and tranquility
did you look?
did you notice?
did you see?
NEAR-DEAF EXPERIENCE #3
hi to dave m
wot no blog?
this is a close one!
i am on my way home
from purchasing my new steel toecaps
and some cut-price ales
from a little off-licence run by an indian family
i climb on my mean machine
next to the busy dual-carriageway
and freewheel across to the central reservation
i look left and see a couple of cars approaching fast
shall i go?
nah! i'm gonna have to defer to the deaf machines
i stop a second or two and wait
when suddenly three machines flash-roar across my consciousness
from right to left
and i realise that i'm actually standing in the middle
of a kind of triple-carriageway
scary images flood my mind
of a cyclist being tossed into the air
like a stray bull runner at pamplona
one day my absent-mindedness
gonna get me in real trouble...
i am hanging out the washing the other day
like the reconstructed modern male that i occasionally am
and it suddenly hits me
the idea not the car
the solution to so many of our problemos
it's very simple
we just ban all private death machines from the roads
we only allow essential service vehicles
emergency services and stuff like that
public transport
and busyness vehicles like delivery vans
at a stroke
we give a massive boost to public transport and cycling
and we make the roads safer and quieter
among the problemos this would obviously solve
obesity
people get more exercise
noise and air pollution
for obvious reasons
community breakdown
people are forced to meet n greet n actually talk to each other
supermarkets
death to those soulless sheds
that bleed the colour and life out of our communities
jeremy clarkson
go and get yerself a grown-up job
so tell me
how long we gonna put up with the miserable status quo?
where our neighbourhoods are racetracks
with a bunch of houses in the middle
where the only shops are charity shops on short-term leases
or supermarkets
where it ain't safe for our children to be children
where nobody talks to each other
where modern life is a bit rubbish
wot no blog?
this is a close one!
i am on my way home
from purchasing my new steel toecaps
and some cut-price ales
from a little off-licence run by an indian family
i climb on my mean machine
next to the busy dual-carriageway
and freewheel across to the central reservation
i look left and see a couple of cars approaching fast
shall i go?
nah! i'm gonna have to defer to the deaf machines
i stop a second or two and wait
when suddenly three machines flash-roar across my consciousness
from right to left
and i realise that i'm actually standing in the middle
of a kind of triple-carriageway
scary images flood my mind
of a cyclist being tossed into the air
like a stray bull runner at pamplona
one day my absent-mindedness
gonna get me in real trouble...
i am hanging out the washing the other day
like the reconstructed modern male that i occasionally am
and it suddenly hits me
the idea not the car
the solution to so many of our problemos
it's very simple
we just ban all private death machines from the roads
we only allow essential service vehicles
emergency services and stuff like that
public transport
and busyness vehicles like delivery vans
at a stroke
we give a massive boost to public transport and cycling
and we make the roads safer and quieter
among the problemos this would obviously solve
obesity
people get more exercise
noise and air pollution
for obvious reasons
community breakdown
people are forced to meet n greet n actually talk to each other
supermarkets
death to those soulless sheds
that bleed the colour and life out of our communities
jeremy clarkson
go and get yerself a grown-up job
so tell me
how long we gonna put up with the miserable status quo?
where our neighbourhoods are racetracks
with a bunch of houses in the middle
where the only shops are charity shops on short-term leases
or supermarkets
where it ain't safe for our children to be children
where nobody talks to each other
where modern life is a bit rubbish
Friday, October 12, 2007
MY BRAND NEW WATERPROOF STEEL TOECAP BOOTS
my brand new waterproof steel toecap boots
not the title of a long-lost dylan song
but a purchase from ryder's army surplus emporium
on harborne lane
these sturdy leather friends
though sadly not entirely vegan
are warm, comfortable and snug
and will prevent a stray crowbar
from piercing a meta-tarsel
whether by accident or design
these boots even go a little way
towards dispelling fireseed's avowed disapproval for retail therapy
symbolising as they do
the abrupt transition of your fave blogger
from sedentary skinny-necked pencil-pusher
gazing sadly at the commuter traffic
through the fogged windows of the 271 bus
enveloped in a stultifying mid-life crisis
to calloused-handed outdoor action man
relishing the wind in his face and the sweat on his brow
as he leans into a sharp turn
as he watches not the changing lights but the changing skies
digs the earth
plants his fire seeds
saws his wood
rebuilds his life
and builds an exciting new future
not the title of a long-lost dylan song
but a purchase from ryder's army surplus emporium
on harborne lane
these sturdy leather friends
though sadly not entirely vegan
are warm, comfortable and snug
and will prevent a stray crowbar
from piercing a meta-tarsel
whether by accident or design
these boots even go a little way
towards dispelling fireseed's avowed disapproval for retail therapy
symbolising as they do
the abrupt transition of your fave blogger
from sedentary skinny-necked pencil-pusher
gazing sadly at the commuter traffic
through the fogged windows of the 271 bus
enveloped in a stultifying mid-life crisis
to calloused-handed outdoor action man
relishing the wind in his face and the sweat on his brow
as he leans into a sharp turn
as he watches not the changing lights but the changing skies
digs the earth
plants his fire seeds
saws his wood
rebuilds his life
and builds an exciting new future
Thursday, October 11, 2007
JOURNEY #2
it isn't the destination that matters
it's the journey
not the station platform that's important
but the view through the window
not the finding out
but the seeking
not the job
but the hunt
not the kill
but the prey
not the consummation
but the wooing
not the product
but the process
the ultimate journey is life
the ultimate destination is death
not knowing is forgiveable
but not trying to find out
now that's a crime
it's the journey
not the station platform that's important
but the view through the window
not the finding out
but the seeking
not the job
but the hunt
not the kill
but the prey
not the consummation
but the wooing
not the product
but the process
the ultimate journey is life
the ultimate destination is death
not knowing is forgiveable
but not trying to find out
now that's a crime
Saturday, October 06, 2007
MEMBER
morning bloglets
just been talking with my member
(that's member of parliament, by the way)
an unassuming chap called richard burden
he's new labour
which means he must be very confused
as we all are of course
i mean
it must be extremely difficult
to represent a political party
whose name pertains to represent the working class
but whose words and actions largely represent big business
remember the words of gandhi
the world of richard burden can hardly be harmonious
anyway
we talked
we took part in a constructive dialogue
that's what democracy is
as opposed to corporatocra$y
which is merely hugely wealthy mega-corporations
paying unfortunate schmucks to lobby on their behalf
or mega-media corporations
paying household name journalists
like paxman (yuk!)
gavin esler (somebody fetch the sick bucket!)
andrew marr
john humphrys
etceterah
etceterah
to give us a 'balanced and impartial' view of the world
ha! ha! ha!
so richard and i spent fifteen minutes of our saturday morning
talking about the draft climate bill
which is about to go through parliament
i started off with some shameless flattery
how delighted i am to see a draft bill come to fruition
then i played the david cameron personal card
the one with the 4-year-old daughter on it
who is growing up in a world
where economic growth trumps natural capital
to an astonishing and appalling degree
we chewed the fat about target-setting
and nibbled on a main course of airport expansion
richard found himself defending the undefendable
and not surprisingly
didn't come off too well
i probably didn't change his mind
but i made him think
which was my aim after all
so my seeds
if you have children
or even if you merely plan to have them
(and i would haile selassie recommend it)
put down your mp3
and go and have a chat to your mp!
just been talking with my member
(that's member of parliament, by the way)
an unassuming chap called richard burden
he's new labour
which means he must be very confused
as we all are of course
i mean
it must be extremely difficult
to represent a political party
whose name pertains to represent the working class
but whose words and actions largely represent big business
remember the words of gandhi
the world of richard burden can hardly be harmonious
anyway
we talked
we took part in a constructive dialogue
that's what democracy is
as opposed to corporatocra$y
which is merely hugely wealthy mega-corporations
paying unfortunate schmucks to lobby on their behalf
or mega-media corporations
paying household name journalists
like paxman (yuk!)
gavin esler (somebody fetch the sick bucket!)
andrew marr
john humphrys
etceterah
etceterah
to give us a 'balanced and impartial' view of the world
ha! ha! ha!
so richard and i spent fifteen minutes of our saturday morning
talking about the draft climate bill
which is about to go through parliament
i started off with some shameless flattery
how delighted i am to see a draft bill come to fruition
then i played the david cameron personal card
the one with the 4-year-old daughter on it
who is growing up in a world
where economic growth trumps natural capital
to an astonishing and appalling degree
we chewed the fat about target-setting
and nibbled on a main course of airport expansion
richard found himself defending the undefendable
and not surprisingly
didn't come off too well
i probably didn't change his mind
but i made him think
which was my aim after all
so my seeds
if you have children
or even if you merely plan to have them
(and i would haile selassie recommend it)
put down your mp3
and go and have a chat to your mp!
Friday, October 05, 2007
JOURNEY
flicking through the gears
i fly down rue saint denis
lean into the sharp right curve that propels me into swarthmore
and accelerate past the primary school
out into this crisp october morning
sunlight sparkles on wet grass
cold air rushes through my wispy still-wet mane
another right and i am flying down abdon avenue
leaving sluggish cars trailing in my wake
i fly down rue saint denis
lean into the sharp right curve that propels me into swarthmore
and accelerate past the primary school
out into this crisp october morning
sunlight sparkles on wet grass
cold air rushes through my wispy still-wet mane
another right and i am flying down abdon avenue
leaving sluggish cars trailing in my wake
i attack the pavement
and use the lights to negotiate the traffic-laden bristol road
and use the lights to negotiate the traffic-laden bristol road
the one that peters out by the great pit in the ground
that used to be longbridge car factory
death of the car - ha!
a tenuous cycle path slithers through wet leaves
then tails off mysteriously by the police station
and suddenly it's a free-for-all
pedestrians, cyclists and cars competing for right of way
disorder under the steely gaze of the law
a sharp left transports me a hundred years back in time
a dark narrow track
past simple workmen's cottages
one draped with an ugly pug-faced flag of st george
suddenly i emerge into charfield road
out again into the blazing autumn morning
to where i saw a flock of canada geese
descend on the suburban front gardens
a couple of saturdays ago
now i hang a right into bournville lane
cutting across a pavement to cheat the traffic
i try to maintain my momentum
as i climb the hill through mr cadbury's estate
standing up like a kid to get more leverage on the pedals
i swear under my breath
as i'm forced to move down into first gear
for the remaining uphill slog
breathlessly into mary vale road
and i am passing squat tudor almhouses built in 1897
an organic butcher and a deli speak volumes
whoosh!!!
dropping down again out of bournville into stirchley
no organic delis there
moving at a rate of knots now
i do a decoy run
almost heading into an industrial estate
just behind the pershore road
then at the last minute
i give my pursuers the slip
nipping down the rea river path
and sneaking through into the fordrough
as i crawl up the steep slope
i imagine the carthorses ambling down to the river for watering
while those 1897 almshouses were raising their mock half-timbers to the sky
from the top of this tricep-testing slope
there is a wide panorama of south birmingham
the chocolate factory and victorian church steeples
punctuating the skyline
but i have no time to stop and admire the view this morning
pedalling furiously onwards
i skate along vicarage road
past the old school my dad attended in the forties
with grandad pittaway
and pinky and perky
king's heath park whirs by in a bluuurrrrr
finally
a few minutes after ten
i swing into the not very regal high street
more paupers than royalty
and scan the passing buildings for the narrow shop frontage
the one i can never find among the bustle of the street
through which i will disappear for the next four hours
then i do a double-take...
the metal shutters are down
the place is closed!
death of the car - ha!
a tenuous cycle path slithers through wet leaves
then tails off mysteriously by the police station
and suddenly it's a free-for-all
pedestrians, cyclists and cars competing for right of way
disorder under the steely gaze of the law
a sharp left transports me a hundred years back in time
a dark narrow track
past simple workmen's cottages
one draped with an ugly pug-faced flag of st george
suddenly i emerge into charfield road
out again into the blazing autumn morning
to where i saw a flock of canada geese
descend on the suburban front gardens
a couple of saturdays ago
now i hang a right into bournville lane
cutting across a pavement to cheat the traffic
i try to maintain my momentum
as i climb the hill through mr cadbury's estate
standing up like a kid to get more leverage on the pedals
i swear under my breath
as i'm forced to move down into first gear
for the remaining uphill slog
breathlessly into mary vale road
and i am passing squat tudor almhouses built in 1897
an organic butcher and a deli speak volumes
whoosh!!!
dropping down again out of bournville into stirchley
no organic delis there
moving at a rate of knots now
i do a decoy run
almost heading into an industrial estate
just behind the pershore road
then at the last minute
i give my pursuers the slip
nipping down the rea river path
and sneaking through into the fordrough
as i crawl up the steep slope
i imagine the carthorses ambling down to the river for watering
while those 1897 almshouses were raising their mock half-timbers to the sky
from the top of this tricep-testing slope
there is a wide panorama of south birmingham
the chocolate factory and victorian church steeples
punctuating the skyline
but i have no time to stop and admire the view this morning
pedalling furiously onwards
i skate along vicarage road
past the old school my dad attended in the forties
with grandad pittaway
and pinky and perky
king's heath park whirs by in a bluuurrrrr
finally
a few minutes after ten
i swing into the not very regal high street
more paupers than royalty
and scan the passing buildings for the narrow shop frontage
the one i can never find among the bustle of the street
through which i will disappear for the next four hours
then i do a double-take...
the metal shutters are down
the place is closed!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
BRUMMIE ACCIDENT - QUOTATION
oh dear!
fireseed concerned to report
that it has taken little hannah e
only three weeks to acquire
some distinctive features
of the dreaded brummie accent
or 'accident' as h insightfully calls it
'why've you got all those apples n oranges?'
she intones
peering curiously at our latest box delivery
of organic fruit and veg
the worrying sign is the tell-tale upward climb in intonation
on the word 'oranges'
which has a certain stomach-churning feel to it
don't worry, seeds
we'll be taking her to see the doctor about it tomorrow...
fireseed always on the lookout
for good quotes
meaningful mottos
and insightful creeds
so how about these words of wisdom from mahatma?
'happiness is
when what you think
what you say
and what you do
are in harmony'
fireseed concerned to report
that it has taken little hannah e
only three weeks to acquire
some distinctive features
of the dreaded brummie accent
or 'accident' as h insightfully calls it
'why've you got all those apples n oranges?'
she intones
peering curiously at our latest box delivery
of organic fruit and veg
the worrying sign is the tell-tale upward climb in intonation
on the word 'oranges'
which has a certain stomach-churning feel to it
don't worry, seeds
we'll be taking her to see the doctor about it tomorrow...
fireseed always on the lookout
for good quotes
meaningful mottos
and insightful creeds
so how about these words of wisdom from mahatma?
'happiness is
when what you think
what you say
and what you do
are in harmony'
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
EDUCATION - WHAT FOR?
dear teacher
i am a survivor of a concentration camp
my eyes saw what no human being should witness
gas chambers built by learned engineers
children poisoned by educated physicians
infants killed by trained nurses
women and babies burnt by high school and college graduates
so i am suspicious of education
my request is this
help your pupils become human
so that your efforts never again produce
learned monsters
skilled psychopaths
educated eichmanns
reading, writing and arithmetic are important
only if they serve to make our children human
i am a survivor of a concentration camp
my eyes saw what no human being should witness
gas chambers built by learned engineers
children poisoned by educated physicians
infants killed by trained nurses
women and babies burnt by high school and college graduates
so i am suspicious of education
my request is this
help your pupils become human
so that your efforts never again produce
learned monsters
skilled psychopaths
educated eichmanns
reading, writing and arithmetic are important
only if they serve to make our children human
Thursday, September 27, 2007
CONGRATULATIONS
some dear friends of ours
have a precious new arrival
a son and heir
a sweet baby boy named ruben
a little brother
a small bundle of joy
what in this life can beat this miracle?
that moment when you finally hold
that tiny long-imagined being in your arms
then the sleepless nights kick in
disrupt your dreams for the future
being at work is so much easier than this!
but of course it is worth it
many times over
so congratulations to you both
love from
family fireseed
have a precious new arrival
a son and heir
a sweet baby boy named ruben
a little brother
a small bundle of joy
what in this life can beat this miracle?
that moment when you finally hold
that tiny long-imagined being in your arms
then the sleepless nights kick in
disrupt your dreams for the future
being at work is so much easier than this!
but of course it is worth it
many times over
so congratulations to you both
love from
family fireseed
SCAVENGER
i cast my seed wide
the wednesday papers and the web pages
happy hunting grounds and pastures new
comfortable suburbia and mean streets
old skips at the sides of roads
meetings and greetings
conversations and eavesdroppings
questions and answers
leaflets and flyers
maps and legends
books and magazines
shops and markets
notice boards
natives and foreigners
leads and tips
good causes and dead losses
short cuts and blind alleys
red herrings and wild goose chases
happy accidents and good reasons
dangerous opportunities
i cast my seed wide
the wednesday papers and the web pages
happy hunting grounds and pastures new
comfortable suburbia and mean streets
old skips at the sides of roads
meetings and greetings
conversations and eavesdroppings
questions and answers
leaflets and flyers
maps and legends
books and magazines
shops and markets
notice boards
natives and foreigners
leads and tips
good causes and dead losses
short cuts and blind alleys
red herrings and wild goose chases
happy accidents and good reasons
dangerous opportunities
i cast my seed wide
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
BLACKBERRY THIEVES
picture postcard england
rolling worcestshire countryside
the england i always imagined from abroad
when i was living in a concrete jungle
here i stand atop hanbury hill
i squint in the bright autumn sunlight
as a stiff breeze blows up from the bristol channel
a sudden gust sending my hat flying into the brambles
carved into the top of the kiln
a helpful map helps to navigate the sweeping panorama
southern england laid out like a dinner table
away to the left
the broad sweep of the cotswold edge
or is it an escarpment?
saucer-shaped breedon hill is straight ahead
and to its right the invisible meeting point
of rivers avon and severn
winding their way down from the welsh highlands
i will have to take that feature on trust
the undulating malvern hills away to the west
which complete the panorama
full of lunch
we thieves make our way over the style
and into wide fields of fluffy sheep
grazing happily in the sunshine
otherwise alone in our pleasures
we find a fertile spot in the hedge
and begin picking the ripe berries
hannah woo covers the lower reaches
for obvious reasons
meanwhile daddy fireseed stretches into areas
that other pickers simply cannot reach
with his mr tickle arms
and refusal to be daunted by stinging nettles
soon our hands are covered with little prickles
and stains of deep purple juice
incriminating evidence of our actions
making our way slowly along the hedgerows
we fill a used tissue box punnet
and then a plastic bag
a couple of pounds of fresh organic fruit
later when we get home
there will be bramble jelly
and blackberry crumble
and a warm satisfied feeling in our bellies
rolling worcestshire countryside
the england i always imagined from abroad
when i was living in a concrete jungle
here i stand atop hanbury hill
i squint in the bright autumn sunlight
as a stiff breeze blows up from the bristol channel
a sudden gust sending my hat flying into the brambles
carved into the top of the kiln
a helpful map helps to navigate the sweeping panorama
southern england laid out like a dinner table
away to the left
the broad sweep of the cotswold edge
or is it an escarpment?
saucer-shaped breedon hill is straight ahead
and to its right the invisible meeting point
of rivers avon and severn
winding their way down from the welsh highlands
i will have to take that feature on trust
the undulating malvern hills away to the west
which complete the panorama
full of lunch
we thieves make our way over the style
and into wide fields of fluffy sheep
grazing happily in the sunshine
otherwise alone in our pleasures
we find a fertile spot in the hedge
and begin picking the ripe berries
hannah woo covers the lower reaches
for obvious reasons
meanwhile daddy fireseed stretches into areas
that other pickers simply cannot reach
with his mr tickle arms
and refusal to be daunted by stinging nettles
soon our hands are covered with little prickles
and stains of deep purple juice
incriminating evidence of our actions
making our way slowly along the hedgerows
we fill a used tissue box punnet
and then a plastic bag
a couple of pounds of fresh organic fruit
later when we get home
there will be bramble jelly
and blackberry crumble
and a warm satisfied feeling in our bellies
Friday, September 21, 2007
EVERYTHING IS INTERESTING
...so andy p's white badge says
and it is the most meaningful thing i have seen or heard
since reuniting with this disunited kingdom
or is it a queendom?
interesting how i can cadge
a fully-functioning fifteen-speed bike for free
instead of paying 150 squid for it
interesting how by rejecting the alienating metal box
i gain an immediate camaraderie with two souls i have never met
interesting how the roadsides of south birmingham
are strewn with chestnut-coloured conkers
freshly hatched from their spiky green cases
uncollected by the children of the twenty-first century
who pass them by oblivious to their perfectly formed beauty
children trapped inside their metal boxes
or at home
staring at their bedroom goggle boxes
or tapping furiously at their sorry playstations
interesting how much more you notice
on escaping the mechanical four-wheeled prison
how it is possible to stop and dwell
on an impossibly beautiful inkblot dusk sky
with its exploding orange smudge
how you can guage
the gradient of the hill
the smooth or bumpy surface of the road
unprotected by combustion engine and suspension
which filter out such 'inconveniences'
free to face the reality of the lie of the land
and required to deal with it
to make small adjustments
to control the breathing
to pedal a little harder
i look around in amazement
i find myself among a society of spoilt sloths
who find it a chore to walk ten minutes to catch a bus
who complain at the merest hint of drizzle
who have become so disengaged from what nature there is left
that they are almost totally oblivious to it
unless it is packaged up
in convenient consumable bite-sized chunks
the national parks
the country estates
the botanical gardens
like so many trays of meat
or boxes of frozen battered plaice
tossed into a supermarket trolley
even the parks are empty
broad expanses of lush green grass and whispering trees
and hardly a soul to be seen
no matter the time of day
i could go on
but my thirty minutes will soon be up
oh england
my heart bleeds for your lost soul
if only i could help you to regain it
when in 1993 blur said that modern life is rubbish
they were referring to the usa
but they could have been talking about somewhere closer to home
and it is the most meaningful thing i have seen or heard
since reuniting with this disunited kingdom
or is it a queendom?
interesting how i can cadge
a fully-functioning fifteen-speed bike for free
instead of paying 150 squid for it
interesting how by rejecting the alienating metal box
i gain an immediate camaraderie with two souls i have never met
interesting how the roadsides of south birmingham
are strewn with chestnut-coloured conkers
freshly hatched from their spiky green cases
uncollected by the children of the twenty-first century
who pass them by oblivious to their perfectly formed beauty
children trapped inside their metal boxes
or at home
staring at their bedroom goggle boxes
or tapping furiously at their sorry playstations
interesting how much more you notice
on escaping the mechanical four-wheeled prison
how it is possible to stop and dwell
on an impossibly beautiful inkblot dusk sky
with its exploding orange smudge
how you can guage
the gradient of the hill
the smooth or bumpy surface of the road
unprotected by combustion engine and suspension
which filter out such 'inconveniences'
free to face the reality of the lie of the land
and required to deal with it
to make small adjustments
to control the breathing
to pedal a little harder
i look around in amazement
i find myself among a society of spoilt sloths
who find it a chore to walk ten minutes to catch a bus
who complain at the merest hint of drizzle
who have become so disengaged from what nature there is left
that they are almost totally oblivious to it
unless it is packaged up
in convenient consumable bite-sized chunks
the national parks
the country estates
the botanical gardens
like so many trays of meat
or boxes of frozen battered plaice
tossed into a supermarket trolley
even the parks are empty
broad expanses of lush green grass and whispering trees
and hardly a soul to be seen
no matter the time of day
i could go on
but my thirty minutes will soon be up
oh england
my heart bleeds for your lost soul
if only i could help you to regain it
when in 1993 blur said that modern life is rubbish
they were referring to the usa
but they could have been talking about somewhere closer to home
Saturday, September 01, 2007
CARBON
i was on tv this week
my little bro spotted me in my dirty brown jacket
on midlands today of all programmes
unfortunately i wasn't up on stage
belting out corporatocra$y
(check out the first link on the right)
nah
no such luck
i was marching
on a 'cut the carbon' rally
organised by christian aid
representing friends of the turf
getting people to sign postcards to send to their mp
asking the government to set carbon reduction targets
needed for the human race to survive
instead of pandering to big business
which doesn't seem to care
whether or not the whole damn ship sinks
interestingly
a lot of people i spoke to
hadn't the foggiest who their mp was
or said they were 'moving house'
my other job was to video marchers
explaining why they had joined the rally
so that the video link could be uploaded
and sent to their mp
(the one they didn't know the name of)
but most were reluctant
and actually i didn't wanna hassle em too much
cos this march sure attracted a whole lotta hangers-on
handing out their leaflets
asking ya to buy their radical newspapers
and i'm ashamed to say
that the worst gate-crashers were the vegans
with their placards denouncing christian aid
saying stuff like: a meat-eater can't be an environmentalist
a sure way to piss a lot of people off
one thing i've learnt is that evangelising don't work
it just puts people's backs up something rotten
lead by example
but avoid evangelising
anyway
if you're interested in all the climate change malarkey
and wanna read something well-argued with a positive slant
you could do worse than get your hands
on a copy of heat by george monbiot
according to george's detailed calculus
the uk has gotta cut its carbon emissions 87% by 2030
now there lies a challenge...
time to walk home now
i'd get on me bike
but i ain't got one yet...
my little bro spotted me in my dirty brown jacket
on midlands today of all programmes
unfortunately i wasn't up on stage
belting out corporatocra$y
(check out the first link on the right)
nah
no such luck
i was marching
on a 'cut the carbon' rally
organised by christian aid
representing friends of the turf
getting people to sign postcards to send to their mp
asking the government to set carbon reduction targets
needed for the human race to survive
instead of pandering to big business
which doesn't seem to care
whether or not the whole damn ship sinks
interestingly
a lot of people i spoke to
hadn't the foggiest who their mp was
or said they were 'moving house'
my other job was to video marchers
explaining why they had joined the rally
so that the video link could be uploaded
and sent to their mp
(the one they didn't know the name of)
but most were reluctant
and actually i didn't wanna hassle em too much
cos this march sure attracted a whole lotta hangers-on
handing out their leaflets
asking ya to buy their radical newspapers
and i'm ashamed to say
that the worst gate-crashers were the vegans
with their placards denouncing christian aid
saying stuff like: a meat-eater can't be an environmentalist
a sure way to piss a lot of people off
one thing i've learnt is that evangelising don't work
it just puts people's backs up something rotten
lead by example
but avoid evangelising
anyway
if you're interested in all the climate change malarkey
and wanna read something well-argued with a positive slant
you could do worse than get your hands
on a copy of heat by george monbiot
according to george's detailed calculus
the uk has gotta cut its carbon emissions 87% by 2030
now there lies a challenge...
time to walk home now
i'd get on me bike
but i ain't got one yet...
Friday, August 31, 2007
SLOW
an aggressively overcast sky
squashes the lifeblood out of the day
grey people drag themselves slothfully along the streets
how does anything ever get done in this country?
does anything get done in this country?
been away for a few days
staying with friends
far from the madding crowd
far from an internet connection
a train ride through cliched rolling green fields
black n white cows and golden hay bales
wafting farmyard smells
that elicit howls of protest from our little treasure
a stroll through a limestone georgian town
the kind of place where they shoot those costume dramas
all tea rooms and freehouses and estate agents
we stop for a warm pint in the lord burley
sit and chat in a tea room under mediaeval timber beams
the sense of history is arresting
after so long living in a country that imploded in 1950
a country that has spent the last fifty years
covering itself in steadily rising layers of concrete
apart from that
fireseed getting bogged down in setting stuff up
a whole lotta dull formalities that take too long
i can't find the phone number
then nobody answers the phone anyway
sorting out a school for OLT
being a typical case in point
i got web addresses galore
but i ain't got no web access
setting up a bank account
and an internet connection
and other whatnots
and blah blah blahs
oh i don't mean to bore ya
and i don't wanna snore ya
it's all part of life's rich pageant, ain't it?
ooh must tell ya
having failed to find any sort of decent bakery
fireseed following in the footsteps of johnny lennon
ordered my very own breadmaking machine
got some in-greedy-ants today
looking forward to some delicious kitchen smells...
squashes the lifeblood out of the day
grey people drag themselves slothfully along the streets
how does anything ever get done in this country?
does anything get done in this country?
been away for a few days
staying with friends
far from the madding crowd
far from an internet connection
a train ride through cliched rolling green fields
black n white cows and golden hay bales
wafting farmyard smells
that elicit howls of protest from our little treasure
a stroll through a limestone georgian town
the kind of place where they shoot those costume dramas
all tea rooms and freehouses and estate agents
we stop for a warm pint in the lord burley
sit and chat in a tea room under mediaeval timber beams
the sense of history is arresting
after so long living in a country that imploded in 1950
a country that has spent the last fifty years
covering itself in steadily rising layers of concrete
apart from that
fireseed getting bogged down in setting stuff up
a whole lotta dull formalities that take too long
i can't find the phone number
then nobody answers the phone anyway
sorting out a school for OLT
being a typical case in point
i got web addresses galore
but i ain't got no web access
setting up a bank account
and an internet connection
and other whatnots
and blah blah blahs
oh i don't mean to bore ya
and i don't wanna snore ya
it's all part of life's rich pageant, ain't it?
ooh must tell ya
having failed to find any sort of decent bakery
fireseed following in the footsteps of johnny lennon
ordered my very own breadmaking machine
got some in-greedy-ants today
looking forward to some delicious kitchen smells...
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