Eurovison Hell

Is there a support group?

Surely this comes under the Geneva Convention as torture or Cruel and Unusual Punishment.

I am being forced, AGAIN, by She Who Must Be Obeyed And Feared, to watch this - show is too small a word to encompass the sheer utter awfulness of it.

Ok Graham Norton is helping as very funny, but if it was not for my decision to self medicate on home made cocktails (Daiquiri's but now sadly out of Rum), would be gnawing my own leg off...

help..

The Tower and the Light

The evening sun hits the cathedral
And the red bricks glow red - like a hearth stone, warm and inviting
and the roof is as green as a cricket pitch
cool and bright and fresh

and over the town, as the evening comes in, the tower is bathed in the dying days light
and it looks as if this was ever thus, England in the evening spring sun

and the sun goes behind the hill.

And the cathedral goes grey and dark.
And the bricks are old, and cold and dirty
And the roof is an old off green
And it is cold

Night is coming
The dark coats the land in a dark, soft blanket

The tower is gone, lost in the night sky

And then lights come on

And the tower is a beacon of light
Golden and bright
The colour of the sun
ethereal, floating over the dark land
shafts of light bouncing upward,
connecting the cathedral to the heavens

Kitchen Naming

So looking at Kitchen brochures; I commented to friends there at the time that one, a concoction of black shinny plastic and fake marble was certainly one for the would be city banker-bachelor loft apartment, complete with the Porsche in the basement car park.

This then lead one friend to insist we renamed the range of kitchens, from "Tiverolli" and "Mocca Studio" to the more realistic naming criteria.

Purple plastic and grey marble effect worktop - newly made bachelor wanting to look trendy and cool
Gloss black doors, with chrome handles - pony tailed tosser
not so glossy black door, with wooden surround - wannabe pony tailed tosser
lime green doors with light gray work tops - Look-at-me kitchen for your thirty-something never married
coffee coloured units and doors - I don't actually use the kitchen, it is to look at, hence this impractical colour is fine
white units, white top, with built in door handle - bought by the builder as "deluxe kitchen".

Modern lack of communication

In other social worlds there were rules.

Fish eaten on Fridays.

Only horses sweat.

Stand up when a lady enters the room.

Take your hat off in church.

Now we have e-mail - perhaps we should have some rules - for e-mail, for chatting, mobile phones etc.

1. Do not text while talking to someone face to face. Devote your attention to one thing at a time and actually you may actual effectively communicate.
2. E-mailing someone three lines about a subject is not actually working on something. Stop using e-mail as audit trail back covering exercise.
3. Do not start mails with no salutation or any personal touches - we've all done it, it is not nice
4. Do not use chat instead of walking over to someone to talk
5. or to use it to pretend you are working
6. cc'ing your boss on all your mails is not big, not clever and not a substitute to writing your reports or communicating properly.
7. Flaming is a bad idea. Really. You will be scorched. Move away from the keyboard!
8. Passing a mail to you to someone else to answer for you is rude - reply saying you getting someone else better qualified/less busy to deal with it please.
9. Never ever ever hit reply all without checking the circulation. Ruthlessly cull your own circulation lists. Limit the traffic.
10. Less is more. Send less mails or even Stop Mailing some people. Really try the phone or in person. Because, think what you are doing. What people now do all day is send each other memos or read them. Not even twenty years ago, we actually did this thing called work at work. Think how long you spend all day going through the slew of e-mails, demanding, pleading or simply the two liner to show involvement. Stop adding to this tidal wave of drivel! Write what needs writing. Ruthlessly cull you circulation list. Major cause of project over runs - reading all the two line e-mails from people trying to appear involved in the project.


Two postings in one month. Too much

Philosophy while Running

Unlike lawn mowing, deep thought whilst running, does not have the same risks - such as mowing your own feet or more seriously, mowing part of a shrub and having to explain this fact to the head gardener (She Who Must Be Obeyed).

It does have the risk of missing oncoming traffic - if you happen to cross a road (which, as I am in England this is highly likely) or share the route with other users. Horses are very large animals. Having been nearly run over by a trotting hunter am now taking this as a serious risk. The other is dog walkers, or rather the dog, who thinks either a) this is jolly good game to chase you or b) decided you are a risk and chases you. You then have to translate the barks - is that angry woof or playful woof? Either way stopping is often required - in order for the owner to recover the dog

It has given me a business idea. Exercise your dog - I run and the dogs chase me like idiots for a hour. But I think the chances of being bitten and losing dogs too high, for it to be viable.

These aside, running early in the morning - 7:00 AM, when most sensible people have just hit the snooze button on the clock radio, is peaceful. Morning dew turns spiders webs into silver necklaces, draped gaudily around branches. Soft golden light, playfully illuminates the woods and the turning leaves. You are alone - in fact I have even seen the milkman parked up and not moving.

I do have a music player thing with me, but do not use it. Firstly to listen out for horses or dogs, secondly as lost in thought.

And I find I very quickly retreat into thought, mainly as your legs begin to ache, you need to not think, "I have hardly gone any distance" or "why am I doing this?" or "I am far too old to do this".

The regular rhythm of feet hitting the leaf strewn path, the puffing steaming breaths, the jangle of keys in pocket sooth - like a train running on a track, like a steady hypnotic chant.

Having run the route many times, it is familiar, so you do not look so much- and if you were not thinking of something else, you'd be thinking of the pain in your legs, not on the fauna and flora (Deer mainly. No chance of hitting them, they run away as soon as see you).

Possibly this explains the series of trips and falls - not the poor state of the bridleways. Too busy musing on the unbearable lightness of being you miss the large tree root or pot hole and end up flat on your face (four times now in seven months). I have scabby knees and an interesting scar on my hand to attest to this.

But I still think deep thoughts. As it is space - my space - in a busy day, in a busy world. No e-mails to answer, no calls to answer, no one else to attend to. And really that is all one needs - time and space, possibly the most valuable commodity to anyone.

Philosophy and lawn mowing

Mowing the lawn and thinking do go together quite well. As long – if using electric, you do cut your own cable, or slice your own toes off, pushing a mower up and down the grass it is a good time to drop the brain into another gear, and ponder the great unknow-ables of life the universe and if Phylis in accounts is having an affair (again).

With a ride on – no too hard to drive and think I feel, but does depend on terrain.

As I attacked again, with aid of said electrical grass cutting implement, the patch of thorny scrub laughable called a lawn, my mind wanders, it that detached idle way around issues, and does the mental equivalent, of taking the back of the TV to work out where the funny noise is coming on

Perhaps not always a good idea, but it satisfies the curiosity- that itch to know and to explore. And hopefully nothing goes bang.

(note. Unless you are a TV engineer this will invalidate your warranty. In the case of buzzing TVs)

I have just, sold my house. So the lawn was actually my landlord's not mine. So my original house, which I spent years sorting out and spending money on is sold.

And this made me think about home and Homes. Because in English, home is not just a house, it can be a whole country, or a city or a street not just a house. We do not have “the mother land”. We have home. Which is more, well, cuddly, cup of tea and biscuit relaxed and dress down than the patriotic, hard line, dress smart and stand up straight, social realism of “motherland”. Nor is in Chez Nous – my place. It is not so hip, cool and casual or French.

Home is where you wear slippers

Home is where know where the mugs and tea is stored

Home is where you sit and just are, not having to do anything

It is not appreciated as it is rather like a comfortable old jacket you wear at weekends (I'm English. I wear jackets.). Comfortable – familiar, worn. Maybe stylish but, most of all it fits and feels well. But not thought about.

Perhaps that is a man thing? Women will wear shoes and clothes that are uncomfortable, because they look good.

Men wear stuff that fits. Then looks good. No man would do to his feet what women do to theirs with high heels. Men are either to wimpy or not insecure enough. Or possibly too lazy...

And then I run our of lawn and the Philosophy stops.

The Essays 4: An End to Universities

Well another pop at another sacred cow. (This is turning into the seemingly dropped radio show Heresy). Universities the home of enlightenment, of elucidation or education.

Only of course it is not, which is why I say, down with it. Having survived its mangling, I feel I have a valid standpoint on this. The joke is always given:

Lectures:
A means of the information in the lecturers notes passing to the students notes, without the information passing through the brain of either.

Which people laugh at, as it is ridiculous. But this is how it is. As a student I was part of a compliant at one of our lecturers, as he was so bad. But really we should have fired 90% of them. The could not speak publicly, they cared little if they got their message across and the actually practical application of anything was beyond them.
These are the sort of people who complain of “dumbing down”. These are the people who say you “read a subject” at university. These are the smug so and so's who ruin education. Because they keep it a competition.

Rather than trying to get everyone educated – that is all understanding things, universities are an exercise in proving who is good at cramming for exams. And yes there are essays, and The Thesis, but exams are really it.
All universities tend to teach is how to pass written exams. Want actually someone who knows something, then universities are not the best places. Find someone who makes a living out of it, tends to be a better bet. Even in really practical subjects like computers and engineer, the real clever people are inventing Yahoo- how many of the internet pioneers were actually university professors and how many clever youngsters. How many professors were involved in designing Concorde? The Channel Tunnel? Inventing mobile phone networks? Start very successful companies? Very few.
Ok, it is a very sweeping generalisation, and not really true. There are lots of clever professors making money. And the universities have clever people in them. But universities are rigged not to help you learn, but to test you. You have to spend days getting a reading list. You have to research yourself things. No one shows you how to do anything. Most lectures are just the lecturer repeating his book at you – which is oddly the course book and costs £40.
So when these graduates come out what can they do? Well they can sit for three hours and regurgitate facts and formulae no problem. Actually rewire your house, fix your car, find a cure for some disease – then my faith in the system falls down. Truly stupid people get degrees. Really clever people sometimes do not.
The problem in England, which has spread I fear is that universities have some scared glow that rubs off on graduates. And actually no one asks -”So what does that mean you can do?” that is until the get to a work place and find, “oh dear I have to solve a real problem not regurgitate a known answer”.
In a meritocracy you are judge by your merit. Your worth to that society. Universities were born in the medieval period and hang overs from the class and rank system are still there. The value thing is “pass this test to prove you are clever”. It is not “pass this test to prove you can do x, y, z”.
I have a degree, actually. Makes me no better than anyone else, until I use that education to do something better than other people. Which I do not do. Most of what I studied does not affect my daily working life. Like a lot of graduates.
So the degree thing is like a club. A badge. A show off thing. And it makes me laugh when an estate agent or Bank Manger has BA (Hons.) or BSc (Hons) after his or her name on the business card. Because it proves nothing apart from you have bought into the “I passed the exams so I am clever” lie.
No, you are just good at sitting exams. If you could sell my house or arrange not to not lose my current account then you would have merit.
So what would I change? Make universities actually educate so people can do something other than pass exams.

The Essays 3: Let's get rid of Religion - but please don't cut off my head

There are many things wrong with the world: global warming; corrupt dictators; and the propensity of certain pubs to sell ’pies’ which are actually casseroles with jaunty pastry caps on top. However , if you are going to change something, then let’s change something that will have a big affect.


Religion. (I have now a mental sound track playing, from Fiddler on the Roof. It is stuck on everyone singing “Religion! Religion!”). The problem with saying ‘Let’s get rid of religion’ is that some people take it very badly and threaten to cut your head off – which sort of makes my point.


Religion – ‘It is the opium of the people’. A saying of Karl Marx often quoted, though his argument is a lot more complex and of its time. People remember this particular part because it has a truth to it. A little religion, like a glass of wine with your meal may well be a good thing. A small prayer here, following most of the commandments especially the stealing and murder ones; all very good and beneficial.


Overdose on religion and the affect is more dramatic. People drunk on religion start stoning certain people, because, say they happen to be have slept with the ‘wrong’ person. They start to think that they are the ‘chosen people’ and everyone else is lesser people and not ‘special’ like them. They even blow themselves and innocent bystanders up in ‘holy wars’.


Religion, at least the organised type, is about putting a social order and control on the people. It has very little to do with thinking about the meaning of life and much, much more about your place in life and how you should live it. Hence, all the rules over shellfish, pigs, sexual activity and prayer times. Really – if there is a God (and I am not discounting the prospect incidentally) – do you think the supreme being, who is outside time and space even cares what you eat? Who you sleep with? And when or even if you go to a place of worship? You may say ‘you cannot know the mind of God’, I am going to take the radical step of assuming God is neither mad nor stupid – which means anything that hurts no one is not a problem for God.


So then, who came with all these rules? Oddly enough, I think it is the people who have the robes and do the chanting. After all, they benefit. If we just had ‘Think before you act and do as little harm as possible’ as the one commandment, it would rather cut down the need for priest types, wouldn’t it?


Cut out the bells and smells and “moral lecturing” they would be stuck doing useful stuff, like helping the poor maybe?


Now we could have a long list of the good and bad that religion has done, which actually is not my argument. (Though one for my list, is the refusal of the Catholic Church to allow the use of condoms. This has helped HIV/AIDS spread and kill so many people that it is tempting to call it mass murder.).
Why would I change Religion? Because it is a method of thought control and social conformity. It really is an opiate of the masses – you don’t have to think or reason or try to do the right thing yourself. Just do as the good book and the priests say and you are just and pious, no matter how idiotic. Kill the infidels, don’t allow blood transfusions, gay people cannot be adoptive parents, make women cover themselves all the time. Just Shut Up and Do as you are told. Which is just plain stupid. We are humans, because we think differently from the other animals. So we should use our brains, possibly God given, for making life and the world a better place. Not for trying to stick to silly rules or fighting over who’s God is best.


Religion is like an over protective parent. It treats people like very small children, with a list of ‘you must do this and not that’. In truth, with the widely educated societies we are becoming, we don’t need ‘Do and don’t do’ and rituals that control us. We need solid values and rational reasoning to help us in life. Not dogma, cant and patronising.


We need to be allowed to think as when we think we are human. When we do not we are just another dumb animal.

The Essays 2: Death to Buzzwords

What I would Change?
Fantastic, an ideal opportunity to have a whinging rant at the world about any pet hates I have. Or for some blue sky thinking.

Oh I did it. I used a business buzzword. Which is what I really, really want to change.

I hate them. All of them. Ball park figure - I am English, What is a ball park anyway? Lowest hanging fruit – unless you work in an orchard this makes sense how? Thinking out of the box – I was not aware I was in one.

What is wrong with approximate figure rather than ball park figure? What is wrong with saying, easiest goal rather than lowest hanging fruit? Why not say – we need to try and be original.

Like any jargon or patois, management speak is a language design to include and exclude certain people. Should you not like using phrases such as ‘kicked into the long grass’ or ‘Elephant Traps’ then you are not a dynamic, go ahead, sharp and active person, capable of ‘pushing the envelope’ or developing ‘synergies across the corporate universe’. If you do one half of your organisation thinks you are the latter, the rest think you are either a) demented b) a toadying servile gimp c) both.

It has got so bad that people write books on it. There are competitions for Business Word bingo, and even British Airways has a feature in its in-flight magazine with the latest business words and what they mean.

Clichéd, hackneyed and tired they are used by Management and management wannabes to sound like they know what they are doing. And before you know it they are everywhere. Even ministers and politicians are using them.

So instead of using language to communicate, clearly conveying thoughts and ideas, it becomes a tool to divide and to be obstructive.

Is there anything more disheartening than sitting through a senior management briefing as they reel of a series of these phrases, occasionally linked together with the odd ‘we need to’ or ‘we must use’? By about the third phrase you are already beginning to nod off or are drawing fantastically complicated doodles on the note pad in front of you.

Because that is the real point. These phrases do not work. A simile is only good if cogent, relevant to the parties hearing it and usually fairly original. ‘Lowest hanging fruit’ sounds great to a bunch of fruit farmers when talking about getting the easiest thing done first. To people working on helping the homeless it does not really work.

They also, over time, the get baggage as saying them reminds people of other times they were used. Lowest hanging fruit often means going for the quick and easy, in a hurry, so we can all walk away from the project pretending it worked, rather than it actually achieving what it was meant to do.

Similarly, efficiency. We hear that world and we all think;- job cuts, pay cuts no Christmas party, no more biscuits at meetings. The actually meaning of efficiency;- the accomplishment of or ability to accomplish a job with a minimum expenditure of time and effort, is obviously what everybody should strive for. Who wants to put more effort in than is necessary? To be inefficient, is wasteful.

But in Management speak, ‘tightening our belts’, ‘effective case management ', ‘non-duplicative/reduces duplication’ are phrases always is used in favour of just coming straight out with ‘we are going to cut jobs’. Of course if you did say that some one would ask why. If you use enough buzzwords then no actually listens.

And this is the true reason for it existing, its raison d'être. Using management speech allows you to say that you have spoken to people but you have used so many buzzwords no one actually understands what you have told them. The old way of keeping the masses in place was to use other languages – like French above. Now we use buzz words, to baffle, bamboozle and befuddle.

Where as a simile or phrase was originally intended to shed light on a matter, now they shroud it in ‘lingo’.

Can you see the policy? Not for all the phrases such as capacity building, system change awareness and coordinated delivery.

The Plain English Campaign has the right idea. Our bosses, politicians and leaders have to stop using gobbledygook. Is it any wonder no-one real knows what they are doing? They should say what they mean and no longer hide behind trite clichés.

The Essays 1 :What I would change - Consumerism

(the Financial Times (its a newspaper) is running an essay competition about "what I would change". So I tried out writing some essays. One went in, if I win I get a suit. But against the readership of the FT I feel possibly I little outgunned. The others, I am shoving here.)

It would be very tempting to go for an obvious problem here. What would I change? – no more wars, no more poverty, no more diseases, no more global warming.

I think this is trying to change the symptoms of the problem rather than the illness itself.

So I would change consumerism. Because the way we consume, is what is causing most of the problems

Consumerism works though. Greed is good. Look where it has gotten us, with sky scrapers, aeroplanes and digital watches.

I would argue that the world is built on commerce. I think there is a different between commerce and consumerism. It is one thing to buy and sell goods and services, and another to constantly have to buy things.

The problem with constantly having to buy things to maintain a society is that it is ultimately the snake that eats itself.

And consumerism is not human nature. The use it and throw it away goes against the grain for many of us – that is why our homes and offices are full of old stuff.

Seriously, right now, I challenge you to go through your house and find nothing redundant or old you have kept just in case you might need it. You probably have. An old mobile phone, an old sweater and old pair of curtains.

These items have all been replaced, but not because they are broken – usually. They have been replaced because we live in a consumer society. We have to buy, buy, buy. Get that bargain, the latest item, the In Thing.
An example. Most people change their mobile phone every six months. Most people do not use any of the new features on their new phone, or do anything different with it. Most people text or make phone calls with their phone – something possible with a model of six years ago.

Whilst it is fantastic that we now have a phone that can show you videos of Kylie Minogue, locate the nearest pub with GPS mapping and let you go on MySpace, who actually does this? Or actually wants to do this?
Most of us get a new phone as it was the latest thing. We were sold it, rather than seeking it. And we are sold a new one in six months. All the effort to make that product and it has a life of six months. And the only real reason we change it is that, we have been sold the new one.

Magnify this with cars, washing machines, clothes and all the other stuff we buy and suddenly you can see the pattern.

We change for fashion or for the sake of change. And this model needs to be maintained – there are now hundreds of factories and millions of people working making all these things and selling them all. This is why certain items no longer seem repairable. We no longer make things to last, but make things in the certain knowledge that it does not have to last, cannot last, as we need it to be replaced, as they want to sell you a new one. And just to make sure it is redundant they make new ones better, faster, sleeker and cooler.

And it is not as if this new stuff makes us happy. Usually, just as we get comfortable with a new car or new phone is when we change it.

More and more of your income, is spent on things other than shelter and food. So there is less and less money to be spent on all the problems that really matter. Rather than spending the earth’s resources on useful, needed things:- green energy, medicine, affordable housing, we waste it with consumerism.

Please recycle away, but if you changed your car every six years rather than every three would that not be better? Maybe stick with the same washing machine rather than getting a new one with the new kitchen? Do you really need yet another cashmere jumper?

This is all the change that is needed. Value you what you have, buy what you want, not what you are told to want. Allow human nature and market forces to work with this. Buy a product that will last and keep using it. Buy it because you will use it – by all means buy luxuries if you will enjoy them. Nothing is a waste if it is used and enjoyed. But just to buy because you can costs so much more than currency.

Autumnal Pictures

This was the Eden project in September. (camera phone Samsung D900i 3 megapixel)

This was outside the office today:

(G600 5 Megapixel camera - focus not fantastic.)

A Dog Walking Prayer

I must go to the hills again
Where the earth meets the sky

Where the wind howls around your head
And where there is the buzzard’s keening cry.

And all I ask is a clear path, on which to walk
And, on its route, a sheltered meadow in which to lie

And all I ask is a clear day, with not too many clouds in the sky,
And all I ask is a lonely place, with out too many people passing by.

And all I ask is the distant sight of a village church steeple,
beside it a sleepy pub; with a garden and a cool spot out of the sun

And all I ask, is at the end of the day when the walking is done
When the shadows length, and I am too tired to run.

Is a bowl of water and the bone I am due.
Is somewhere to rest my paws, and in my dreams, rabbits pursue

The Besuited Man

My suit is my armour
Can't you see?
The cloth turns aside arrows.
The pinstripes protect me.

Let others their worn denim or corduroy prescribe
I am happy when in a suit I am spied

Something that fits- and fits me best
I am not happy in a string vest

Clothing you can wear anywhere
For which few doors are barred
A besuited man is a suitable man at large

Maybe as all formality is dead
Maybe fashion says I should look like,
I just stepped out of bed

But as people judge by looks,
then look and see
As the besuited man,
the smart man,
the well dressed man.

Is visibly me

Bad Advice - What Real Men Do

The things that people expect Real men to do

• Get Drunk At Any given opportunity - if you don't get utterly leg less you are not a real man
• Ogle at any passing female who is even slightly attractive. Irrespective of context, time, place. E.g. Doctors, policewoman. Real men have a huge sex drive
• Eat the hottest curry possible. Real men can take the pain; the meal is an opportunity to look hard not eat nice food.
• Violence or threats of violence are always a solution. Even if he is twice your size and you are more the shape of the Michelin man than he-man, act as if you are as good as Andy McNab in a fight situation.
• You are a rule breaker. Act like a career criminal. Even if you have never even got a parking ticket, Real men have their own rules. Laws are for other people, etc
• Spend lots of money. You are well off. Obviously not super rich, your are no toff, you work, but Real Men hare largess.
• Worship football. In fact all sport, no matter how obscure you must know about if not have tried your hand at semi-pro or retired due to injury. Badminton, show jumping and tennis do not count. Horse racing just about.
• Drive too fast, in a very big car. Even if you live near work, and have no family, a huge saloon is required. Hatch backs and people carriers are a no-no. Estates not good. Four-by-four is ok as long as it is not a girlie RAV4 or similar
• Read a tabloid. Never a broadsheet. Certainly not a novel unless it is an Andy McNab or is something gritty or hard-boiled. Books on sport or war are good
• Military experience is very handy. Always claim some.
• Children should be called "ankle bitters" and generally ignored/bullied
• Women are "skirt" and generally ignored/ogled/bullied. Apart from mothers who are feared/worshipped
• Green vegetables, salad and fruit are for not for Real Men
• You are an island, a rock, a fortress and need no help from anyone. all men do this - especially if lost.

A Hot Dog Day

The sun turns the air to the consistency of treacle.
Basking in the sun are the teeming people.

Swarming on any open space, like kicked over ants’ nests.
Women in bikinis, men down to their string vests.

Flesh already turning a bright cherry red.
And people eat outside, as if it were the med.

A Black Dog pants in a drought ridden tree’s shade.
And it is so bright that all the colours fade.

For a short, short time, it is sunny and warm.
And the only people unhappy, are those who tend lawns.


(ok written last summer)

Pride In One's Work

Even I, a dyed in the wool lower-middle management clone, even I, cynical bitter and twisted as I am, even I, safe in the knowledge that what I do does not matter, try to do things properly.

Some of it is stubborn pig ignorance – some of it habit but mainly it is a perverse pride. Even if everyone else just cuts and pastes their reports from articles on wikipedia, even if most of the data they produce is meaningless garbage spilled out from some data base that bares no resemblance to reality, even if no one reads what I write and what I do is utter pointless, I will do it properly.

Maybe not well, or perfectly, but you will get what you asked for/need. Should some one need the last quarters results in a pie chart, and run down of the critical issues since the last meeting and the outstanding testing for a project done by Tuesday, they will get it.

Is it is partly my own insecurity –not in my job but emotionally – that I do not want to let people down. Partly that I am honest. I did sign a contract to do this and I will do this. And I think that is no bad thing.

So many other people do not seem to care if what they do is wrong, poor or faulty. The utterly selfishness, lack of pride in one’s work is breathtaking. Having visited hundreds of factories and workshops, and dealt with a great many builders, electricians, plumbers and roofers I am still amazed by how they treat their work.

Slap dash

Haphazard

Careless

Things don’t work, or are broken or so poorly done as to be nearly, but not quite useless.

So is this just a rant then?

Well no. I think it is cultural thing. I think the lack of respect, especially in the UK (note to Americans : its is the small selection of islands, off Europe, you use as an airbase) for trades people and anyone not in a suit and tie and “in charge” means that no one has any respect to what they do as "work" anymore

It is all about money. Ok the bad old days of “loadsamoney” is gone, but there is a hangover from it. Commercial gain and capital is all that matters.

No one reads History, or English Literature for the joy of it at University. They want jobs, so they study management and try and get on "Grad Schemes". And why wouldn't they? ho wants to get in 20 grand of debt studying Elizabethan culture and the rise of the Roman Empire, to then work in a call centre?


Doing a job well does not matter anymore. Even what it achieves does not matter. What matters is how much you are paid and how rich you are. Period.

Added to this that consequences of doign a job badly are nill (anyone know anybody fired for incompetence? Aside from big executives resigned after being caught defrauding the company, making a complete mess years running).

Doing it well, and being respected by your peers for it does not happen.

We judge success and happiness by the size of bank balance, house, car and flash clothes.


The Protestant Work ethic is dead.
The Fast Buck is how we are.

A Boy Running

Arms and legs pumping
Head lolling
From side to side,
As he is running
No longer fast
Not with any speed
But he keeps moving
Filled with the need

To escape
To flee
To evade

Running on emotion
All energy spent
Tears mingling
With the sweat
Legs heavy
Lungs bursting for breath
A boy running

He hasn’t got there yet



25 May 2007

The Difference is the Distance

The difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.
The difference between life and death is a breath.
The difference between happy and sad is a smile.
The distance between you and me is not a mile.

The end is the end, is the end in itself

The difference between left and right is only the side.
The difference between old and young is the length of the ride.
The difference between the start and the end is the time.
The distance between you and me is not on a sign.

The end is the end, is the end in itself

The difference between one and the other cannot always be seen.
The difference is, well, you know what I mean.
The difference is what you make it to be;
That is the difference and the distance between you and me.

The end is the end, is the end in itself

"Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad." - Euripides (480-406 B.C.)

Another Day Begins

And another day begins.

And the alarm goes off so early that it is still dark, wailing away like a bereft and hurt child, before you can club it to silence.

And another day begins.

And you lay there in the dark, caught between the blissful unconsciousness and tired consciousness, between duty to get up and the desire, the deep need to sleep.

And another day begins.

And the alarm goes off again. You club it senseless again, and lie there, with an aching bladder and the foul taste in your mouth. You are awake.

And another day begins.

And the hot water isn’t on yet, and you cut yourself shaving and there are a pile of yesterdays bills among the detritus on the kitchen benches, and the milk is off and the toast is burnt and the kettle boils away to itself, un-notice un-loved and un-wanted.

And outside the rain slashes down and the trees read up to the sky with cold skeletal hands, begging for salvation

And people and buses, and cars and trains hustle and bustle by, sickening keen to start the day

And the cheery, buoyant and above all irritating radio presenters introduces another, sickening, cheery, buoyant, and above all irritating pop song, by another cheery, buoyant and above irritating pop star as you try to get you head straight before you brave your way to work, as;

Another day begins.

Just like all the others, with all the joy the light and life taken out of it.

Another day begins.

With always so much that has to be done, and so little that you want to do.

And another day begins.

To merge with the last, in a sea of grey, bland, memories.

Sparrow’s Flight

Out of the darkness,
into the light.
The sparrow’s flight,
takes it

From the cold stormy night,
into the warmth, the heart’s delight.
Suddenly.

Weaving, darting, through the rafters,
full of life and joy and laughter,
the little bird flies.

It sings, it sings,
high and clear.
So all around can hear,
the melody of its song.

But all too soon it is gone.
Even as the song’s echo, lingers on.

The bird flies in by a window and out again.
From the dark night and back again.
Within our reason, and beyond our ken.

A few wing beats, a swift flight.

A short burst of song.



For my grandmother, Gwen (1922 – 2007)