It's Friday again - I have been morose all week
work - frustrating as usual
not been home for a fortnight
a bad flu that just refuses to lie down and die
miserable winter showers
malfunctioning radiators
terrible traffic and road rage
I crawl up the M6 which does
an annoying impersonation of a parking lot
and as I self righteously tick off the injustices
the world has forced upon me this week
I decide to change lanes
so I indicate right and toss
a perfunctionary glance at my wing mirror
...
and there it is - in all it's splendour
promising a pot of Irish gold
imprinting it's celestial image on it's human namesake
ironing out my worry wrinkles
bringing a surprised smile to my face
my share of elemental magic
right there in my wing mirror
a rainbow
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Thursday, December 06, 2007
What's the Big Idea?!!
In Stephen Hunt’s fantastic, refreshing, vaguely Tolkien-esqe ‘The Court of The Air’, Harry Stave, rogue wolftaker tells Oliver Brooks, registered feybreed:
"Someone comes up with the BIG IDEA – could be religion, could be politics, could be the race you belong to, or your clan, or philosophy, or economics, or your sex or just how many bleeding guineas you got stashed in the counting house. Doesn’t matter, for the BIG IDEA is always the same – wouldn’t it be good if only everyone was the same as me – if only everyone else thought and acted and worshipped and looked like ME, everything would become a paradise on earth.
But people are too different, too diverse to fit into one way of acting or thinking or looking. And that’s where the trouble starts. That’s when they show up at your door to make the ones who don’t fit vanish, when, frustrated by the lack of progress and your stupidity and plain wrongness at not appreciating the perfection of the BIG IDEA, they start trying to shave off the imperfections.
Using knives and racks and axe-men and camps and Gideon’s Collars.
When you see a difference in a person and can find only wickedness in it – you and them – the them become fair game, not people anymore but obstacles to the greater good, and it’s always open season on the them"
Nick Griffin, Abu Hamza, OBL, GWB, hate mail, extraordinary rendition, ‘random’ inspection at airports, illegal invasion (aka war on terror), nuclear ‘deterrents’, 9/11, 7/7, Jallianwallah Bagh, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Gaza, child soldiers, KKK, Rwanda, Darfur, freedom fighters (aka terrorists – all a matter of point of view), Apartheid, United 92, United Defense, British Raj, IRA, Ayodhya, Guantanamo, Enoch Powell, Fat Man, Little Boy …
We are all shades of grey, hands equally dripping with blood, no one deserving of moral high ground, no one entitled to spiritual sanctity – all equally lost and distant from God, who doesn’t want anything to do with any of us, till we get our acts straight
But we won’t
Because I’m right
And you’re wrong
Always
"Someone comes up with the BIG IDEA – could be religion, could be politics, could be the race you belong to, or your clan, or philosophy, or economics, or your sex or just how many bleeding guineas you got stashed in the counting house. Doesn’t matter, for the BIG IDEA is always the same – wouldn’t it be good if only everyone was the same as me – if only everyone else thought and acted and worshipped and looked like ME, everything would become a paradise on earth.
But people are too different, too diverse to fit into one way of acting or thinking or looking. And that’s where the trouble starts. That’s when they show up at your door to make the ones who don’t fit vanish, when, frustrated by the lack of progress and your stupidity and plain wrongness at not appreciating the perfection of the BIG IDEA, they start trying to shave off the imperfections.
Using knives and racks and axe-men and camps and Gideon’s Collars.
When you see a difference in a person and can find only wickedness in it – you and them – the them become fair game, not people anymore but obstacles to the greater good, and it’s always open season on the them"
Nick Griffin, Abu Hamza, OBL, GWB, hate mail, extraordinary rendition, ‘random’ inspection at airports, illegal invasion (aka war on terror), nuclear ‘deterrents’, 9/11, 7/7, Jallianwallah Bagh, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Gaza, child soldiers, KKK, Rwanda, Darfur, freedom fighters (aka terrorists – all a matter of point of view), Apartheid, United 92, United Defense, British Raj, IRA, Ayodhya, Guantanamo, Enoch Powell, Fat Man, Little Boy …
We are all shades of grey, hands equally dripping with blood, no one deserving of moral high ground, no one entitled to spiritual sanctity – all equally lost and distant from God, who doesn’t want anything to do with any of us, till we get our acts straight
But we won’t
Because I’m right
And you’re wrong
Always
Crossroads
There were tears
For she was sad
He was her (? best) friend
So he was sad too
More tears, hot and salty – he found
For he had tried to kiss them away
She was precious
And he might lose her
- Shortly
- Surely
- Forever
He wouldn’t like that
So he panicked
But held her gaze (and her hands)
And told her how he felt
That got him a hug (which was nice)
Then they went for a walk
Had a glass of lime juice each
And that, my unborn children
Is how your blundering daddy
Met your beautiful mommy
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