Author Archive
What is it about rich people that gives the arrogance to assume that whenever they have a problem they can go straight to the top? Mel Gibson, after his appalling anti-semitic remarks, has said “I’m not just asking for forgiveness. I would like to take it one step further and meet with leaders in the Jewish community”. So much for humility. I’ve made a mistake and feel that I ought to discuss this with god.
I’m looking forward to the film of Children Of Men. I don’t normally like the idea of film versions of books but something inside me seems to have slipped and I find myself watching the trailer more than once and thinking about how they will do certain scenes. It has spurred me on to reading the book again – something I haven’t done since I was at college.
Anyway, it all looks pretty interesting. And it left me wondering how this country would react if the events actually came true and humanity became infertile. More specifically it left me wondering what would happen if, after this happened, the only women to become fertile again were black. Would we (or perhaps how would we), as society predominantly controlled by white people, tolerate a world in which black people are the only ones with an actual future? We seem to be always portraying ourselves as under some kind of cultural threat as it is, continuously frightened both privately and publicly as though the white grip on this country could ever really be loosened. As though power bases can ever really shift.
The recent knife amnesty was surely little more than the usual PR exercise, unless, of course, people have taken the message to heart and now buy pre-sliced bread and ready chopped veg. Hey – maybe that’s a way the supermarkets can cash in on knife crime and be seen in a more responsible light.
Anyway, I’m rambling. So we have got the knife amnesty out of the way and plenty of blades were handed in. What’s next for the crime squad? Can we expect to see white collar crime being targetted as employees are encouraged to hand in their tax evading bosses? Or maybe we start small and shop the post-it note thieves who plague our daily lives and lower society’s accepted level of what constitutes crime? I, of course, have an idea that will be even more far reaching and make life better for each and everyone of us. I am mooting a cirric… a curic… a CV amnesty.
I get a small but deadly quantity of the tiresome buggers whenever schools break up and have to say that with the exception of the exception that proves the rule, they are all utter and complete nonsense. Even when spelling and grammar have been addressed it’s often tough to see the relevance any of them have to the hopeful’s job prospects. Lengthy monologues based upon the need to function as a member of the team, to diversify and extend skillsets and to convince the reader (gentle reader) that the six week stint in an insurance office working the post room has prepared this individual for any and all tasks that lie ahead. Thank you for considering my application for position of ______________ . Well no, thank you for taking the time to read up on my company and prepare something that doesn’t feel like I’m the one applying for the position of employer.
I’ll be in touch.
Two people enter the final phase of their relationship and discover a vitriolic side to each other as they engage in increasingly nasty ways to get at one another. If you can find the humour in that then I’d like to borrow your silver lining sometime because all I felt was depressed. Sporadic “funny” moments aside where the script dealt with stereotyped observations of what men/women want out of a relationshp, the film get caught up in the ugly side of the characters. There are several too many scenes of out and out fighting where the supporting cast looks on, pretty much as the audience are forced to, as what little banter there was dissolves into deeply personal attacks. Like their friends, we too are left wanting to escape the uncomfortable silences that follow by making our excuses and heading for the door. If this were filmed in french, we’d probably be looking at a dreadfully dull arthouse film but as it is, we are caught between expecting light comedy and the director being unsure of his brief.
Every morning I “like” to watch a bit of breakfast television. I don’t know why, perhaps because it is rich in opportunities to increase my blood pressure which somehow seems to fuel my journey to work. My channel of choice is the Beeb – mainly because it is the first channel on my remote control. Each day brings up a new example of one or both of the presenters making their feelings on a particular story very clear. Or Declan breaking strikes and giving hard-nosed interviews to businessmen.
Anyhoo, this morning there was a fluff piece about people and animals cooling down in this “blistering” heat. The last segment featured a pig swimming whilst wearing sunglasses. It was very humourous of course. But what was enjoyable was that afterwards one of the presenters, in that friendly, I’m-in-your-living-room-having-a-brew kind of way, observed that “you just couldn’t make it up.”
Clever pig that then.
The great thing about not posting for a while is that you get to view past posts in the same light as food left out too long. I should clear up. Instead I will confine future posts to commenting upon world events and the lives of insects.
Don’t we all forget,
in the end? Don’t
we all lose control?
But I knew an old lady
who remembered
her mother, laughed
like a baby,
died.
That’s something.
ever wonder why, after waiting
for one second, a second second
appears?
Only now am I realising just how much work I should have done to get me through my english exams. I’ve been reading Heaney and Eliot again and it’s clear I just didn’t pay much attention first or second time around. This despite an excellent standard of teaching. Throw out the anchors, stop all the clocks. I think I need to start again.
abandoned by your own door
you are open to change.
a cold wind might bring me
closer to you
or empty your rooms of children
who wait, stacked inside.
but then they themselves are childless
and will be for years,
so rattle up the stairs
and scoot out the stories
hidden in the eaves
whilst they last.
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