Thursday, 28 December 2006

Merry Christmas All Ya'll Bitches!

First off, apologies for lack of blogging and not visiting the sites I always visit but seriously, it's fuckin' Christmas and all that jazz so why an earth would I want to be on the PC typing shit when instead I can be out there eating, drinking and being very merry indeed (I got a gramophone and that makes me very, bastard merry so if anyone wants to buy me some 78s, go for it...)?

Second off (I don't think that's even a word but what the hell), Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my readers and those people that stumble here looking for interviews with p0rn stars or pictures of Amanda Holden naked. How ever you get here, it's all good by me people.

Third off, (I know for a fact that isn't a word) love, peace and respect to all those people that know me, I hope that 2007 brings you more than 2006 did.

Don't know when I'll blog next but when I do, I'll fill you in on my attempts to buy a house/tiny, over priced flat; another commecial I'm in/one I could be in and why being Northern is the funniest thing in the world.

Sunday, 24 December 2006

Intertwined Tinsel

We joke about

Cheesy Christmas based analogies

For our love

And come up with the idea of

Intertwined Tinsel

Around the Christmas tree of life

But somehow

It doesn't feel cheesy at all

In fact

It feels just perfect.

Friday, 22 December 2006

Bad Brains

As many of you will know, for all my pretence at being into avant-garde jazz, hip-hop and Fleetwood Mac, the musical love of my life is hardcore punk rock.

I have many favourite bands, the best of course being the ultimate noise of Black Flag but legendary Washington D.C. outfit Bad Brains aren't too far off. So for the punk rocker in your life, why don't you perhaps treat them to their latest Greatest Hits and watch as they spaz out to some of the densest jams laid down since time began.

Here is a video of one of my favourite tracks, Soul Craft, which opens with lead throat HR bashing out the riff like some mentalist before the rest of the band crash in on the grindcore.

Fuck me, this is good shit.


Bad Brains - Soul Craft

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Wednesday, 20 December 2006

LOVE ME!!!

When I pretend to be dead it makes her laugh

I talked about boarding school boys

Sticking their willys into test tubes

For kicks

And I make her

Heart beat out of her chest

Monday, 18 December 2006

The First Dance

I felt so honoured to be there

It's where I belong

I held your hand as we watched the first dance

The tears came to my eyes

There is something so beautiful about love

I want to be where they are

Whisper it

But I think I already am

I could watch you move all night long

You stop me breathing

Let's Stay Together?

As long as you don't mind me crying

While we have our first dance

Friday, 15 December 2006

I Won't Share You

I won't share you
I won't share you
With the drive
And ambition
The zeal I feel
This is my time
The note I wrote
Was read, she said
Has the Perrier gone
Straight to my head
Or is life sick and cruel, instead?
"Yes !"
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
I won't share you
I won't share you
With the drive
And the dreams inside
This is my time
Life tends to come and go
That's ok
As long as you know
Life tends to come and go
As long as you know
Know, know, know, know, know, know, know, know, know
I won't share you
I won't share you
With the drive
And the dreams inside
This is my time
I want the freedom and I want the guile
I want the freedom and the guile
Life tends to come and go
As long as you know
Know, know, know, know, know, know, know, know
I won't share you
I won't share you
I'll see you somewhere
I'll see you sometime
Darling...

Thursday, 14 December 2006

The Holocaust Conference

Nothing turns my stomach more than those people that try and somehow downsize the systematic evil of Nazi Germany’s Final Solution and dress it up as genuine academic research, when really it barely masks their anti-Semitic worldview.

The Holocaust Conference in Iran is a deeply unsavoury event that unfortunately seems to find many supporters in the more ignorant elements of the blogosphere. Regular readers will know that I am no fan of Zionism and the regime currently in power in Israel, regular readers will also know that I am a vigorous defender of free speech, even in the most extreme of circumstances (such as this sham of a conference) but that doesn’t mean I cannot voice my displeasure at those that believe this mock conference is anything other than a crude, idiotic stab in a wet paper bag.

The Holocaust Conference purports to investigate the details of the Holocaust but contains not one single academic or historian that is an expert on the matter, more importantly, the sheer wealth of data on the Holocaust provides such an undeniable wall of evidence that crushes all doubt of the size and scale of the genocide that debate is at best pointless and at worst, rooted in utterly corrupt and anti-Semitic values. What is the point, other than to cause distress and sow the seeds of racism, of arguing whether 5 million or 8 million Jews died?

The point seems not to lay with the Holocaust at all but rather that it led to the formation of the state of Israel, its role in the psyche of Zionism and as an excuse for the brutal expansionist policies of Israel. It also seems to be some pathetic attempt at a tit-for-tat testing of the Western world’s free speech ideals in the face of those silly cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, which is an easy win for the West as we haven’t burned any flags yet or got ourselves in a rage over two-dimensional images.

Frankly, there are some events in world history that are above such petty minded exercises in political game play and it is so vulgar, so disrespectful of all those that died, to try and demean events in order to score political points. Those involved are cowards, they do not dare to honestly expose their anti-Semitic views and they would rather hide them behind the dead bodies of Dachau, Auschwitz and Belzec than stand up for their so-called beliefs.

We cannot go back and remove the state of Israel; whose formation rose from the ashes of those slaughtered, we need to move forward, together, for a peaceful solution in the Middle East which will involve compromise on all fronts. Of course there are Zionists who use the Holocaust for political leverage, those that justify acts of terror under the umbrella of those terrible events in the past and these people stand shoulder to shoulder with all those that abuse the memory of the Holocaust and use if for political advancement.

I shall leave you with an image from the personal photo album of a member of the Einsatzgruppen, who labelled it ‘The Last Jew of Vinnitsa’, it documents the moment that the last of some 28,000 Jews in the Ukraine village of Vinnitsa was put to death. It speaks volumes in this time of empty, desperate language.

Tuesday, 12 December 2006

Kofi Annan’s Parting Shot

"No nation can make itself secure by seeking supremacy over all others."

Yesterday, the out going UN Secretary-General decided to have a pop at the Rethug regime that has made his second term in power a living hell.

Kofi Annan is no fool; he buttressed his call for a US return to multilateralism with quotes from President Harry S. Truman: "the responsibility of the great states is to serve and not dominate the peoples of the world" but pulled no punches in his very genuine belief that the peoples of the world must stand together rather than pay lip-service to grand ideals.

He spoke passionately about the need for shared responsibility, a global solidarity and about moving legislation beyond pure rhetoric and taking direct and powerful action if necessary to make sure human rights are protected. He rebuked the United States for its illegal war in Iraq and for justifying torture in its war on terror: “No state can make its own actions legitimate in the eyes of others. When power, especially military force, is used, the world will consider it legitimate only when convinced that it is being used for the right purpose, for broadly shared aims, in accordance with broadly accepted norms.”

I’m sure many Americans will disagree but considering that one UN Secretary-General was a Nazi war criminal, Kofi Annan had a pretty good record in power with only two rather grubby events cluttering up his legacy. For me, the Ruud Lubbers sexual harassment investigation was of more concern than the alleged Oil-for-Food Programme, which turned out to be an unfortunate event to happen on the watch of Kofi Annan but one in which he had no involvement.

There is one thing that cannot be knocked of Kofi Annan’s time in power; he was a very popular UN Secretary-General who unfortunately, was a lone dissenting voice in the rise of the attempted US neo-conservative hegemony and for that alone, he deserves some respect as he pissed admirably unto the wind. I’ll leave you with his comments delivered in September this year of the challenges facing his successor.

"And yet. And yet. Every day, reports reach us of new laws broken, of new bestial crimes to which individuals and minority groups are subjected…The events of the last 10 years have not resolved, but sharpened, the three great challenges I spoke of: an unjust world economy, world disorder and widespread contempt for human rights and the rule of law…as a result, we face a world whose divisions threaten the very notion of an international community, upon which this institution stands."

Let’s hope the world can pull together to banish these terrible injustices to the place where they belong.

Monday, 11 December 2006

My Favourite Helmet

I am white but I think I'm black, hence my 'gangsta' fingers.

This gets me in trouble with white people who think that I'm disrespecting my heritage and who can't understand why I'd like to be a nigger.

This also gets me in trouble with black people who think I'm disrespecting their heritage and who can't understand why I'd like to be a nigger.

Niggers are so cool and I can use that word because my black friends let me use it but I have to say it without the 'er' on the end otherwise they call my mum a whore and threaten to pop a cap in my ass.

I wear my favourite helmet for three reasons, the first is that due to me pretending to be black I get a lot of people trying to punch my face in and the helmet makes it pretty hard for people to do that. The second reason is it makes me look cool and a bit like a crazy nigger. The third reason is it makes me feel like I'm the only white member of the Wu-Tang Clan and me and the Ghost Face Killa are using our martial arts skills on some Muslims.

When I think about me and the Ghost Face Killa beating up Arabs I get a funny feeling in my pants, I think that's how black people must feel all the time...

Friday, 8 December 2006

Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out of

Dearest Michael, my brother, my best friend.

14 years have passed since I lost you and the pain and sense of loss has not diminished one iota, soon, the time since your death will eclipse your age when you died. What travesty that those that waste their lives, that piss and moan away their precious existence, should live whilst you do not.

The tears ran feely down my face as I walked to work this morning and memories of you filled my heart but, my sweet and perfect boy, I think that slowly I am finding peace.

I don’t believe in God so I know that you’re not in heaven. You’re in my heart, in my laugh, in the decisions I make. You are with me forever, sharing my life with me, side by side.

I miss you.

I love you.

“You've got to get yourself together, you've got stuck in a moment and now you can't get out of it.”

Wednesday, 6 December 2006

Slow Dance on a Tube Platform

As the train was pulling in to the platform

I took your left hand in my right

And my left slipped around your waist

And we slow danced to the love song in our head

Oblivious to the passengers swarming past us

Lost in our world

What a beautiful place to be.

Tuesday, 5 December 2006

Fang Boy

As of 22:32 on the 5th December 2006 this photo sums up exactly how I'm feeling inside.

Is that a good or a bad thing?

Answers to the usual address...

Monday, 4 December 2006

I Don’t Want to Feel/I Want to Feel

A director, during an emotion memory exercise for a play I’m doing, asked me to remember a moment of rejection; to transfer myself back to the time and place when an offering of love was soundly put in its place as a desperate gesture by a desperate man.

Unfortunately, I have rather a few moments I can draw upon but I was surprised by how fresh and raw the sensation was even though the event in question is nearly a year old. I felt my breath quicken and become shallow, my chest falling and rising, my hands becoming fists, the dull sob of my heartbroken mouth as the humiliation of my feelings lay exposed like innocent bystanders caught in a terrible explosion.

As the tears rolled down my face and the pain made me bite my lip and dig my nails into the palms of my hands I felt all the trouble of the last year well up so profoundly in my soul that I thought I may split in two. Instead, I smashed my right hand into the hard floor and instantly felt foolish as my knuckle throbbed in pain.

“Men look so stupid when they hit things.”

I’m heartbroken. How can giving everything I’ve got not be enough? Why do people wake up to what they’ve lost only when its gone and not when its on its knees begging for attention? Why am I so weak?

I’ll be glad when this atrocity exhibition is over.

Friday, 1 December 2006

Jim Webb vs. George W. Bush

Senator Jim Webb (war veteran, pugilist, wearer of his son’s boots and winner of the tight race in Virginia) had done his best to avoid President George W. Bush (national guard veteran, cheerleader, wearer of the Emperor’s clothes and winner of a tight race in Florida) at a White House reception but rather foolishly Dubya sought out the famously combative senator, whose son is currently serving in Iraq and the following dialogue ensued:

Bush: How’s your boy?

Webb: I’d like to get them out of Iraq, Mr. President.

Bush: That’s not what I asked you. How’s your boy?

Webb: That’s between me and my boy, Mr. President.

Conversation over.

Brilliant.

Thursday, 30 November 2006

You WILL Enjoy the Theatre

President Bush isn’t the only lame duck leader struggling in domestic politics, Prime Minster Blair seems dead set on doing his dying swan routine whilst spewing out death knell legislation.

It seems that education is the unlucky target for his legacy building policy, with much talk of more private company investment in education (always a bad thing, there is no profit to be found in children), a rather late acknowledgement of the International Baccalaureate Diploma but more interestingly Blair has started to bang on about ‘life skills’.

‘Life skills’ have been with us since the beginning of time, it basically means being able to look after yourself and be a decent human being, however, since the early 90s various agencies across the UK have felt the need to try and teach ‘life skills’ to young people who seem to not know how to look after themselves and are not decent human beings. Frankly, it’s very silly indeed and this is coming from someone who has spent more time teaching ‘life skills’ programmes then he’d care to remember.

Thankfully, ‘life skills’ were only foisted on disadvantaged and under privileged kids because obviously middle class/wealthy kids have no need to learn how to look after themselves and to be decent human beings as they have money to negate any tricky social situations…Blair is determined to end that and seems hell bent on making sure that all British children can cook, surf the internet, manage money and enjoy the theatre.

Never mind where this is going to fit in to an already over crammed, over legislated and bureaucratic education system; I’m still pissing my pants with laughter at the hilarious thought of making children across Britain enjoy the theatre. Does he realise what a massive task he has on his hands? Solving the Iraq problem pails into insignificance in the face of convincing the youth of the nation to stop surfing the Internet (at least he’s reached one target already), get their fat arses away from the tele and huff and puff their way to the nearest theatre (no longer that near due to chronic government under funding) to sit through some subsidised piece of po-faced historical drama that says absolutely nothing to the juvenile watching it.

I’m all for getting young people into theatres but twisting their arm is not going to solve the problem of a medium that does very little to communicate to them.

Wednesday, 29 November 2006

Side by Side

How right you were.

It is so much better to make the transition from the palm of your hand to right by your side.

Side by side.

We are, side by side.

Tuesday, 28 November 2006

Wanted: a Stress Ball the Size of Christ Almighty

I hate pity posts as much as the next man but as some of you may know I am currently snowed under, it’s a mix of keeping busy so as not to linger on distressing personal circumstances and being too busy to take a breath, to reflect and to sit at my computer and write.

I feel like things are slipping from my grasp, the list of to-do things is building to a virtual mountain and I’m struggling to keep my head above water: I’ve a show to direct, two plays to perform in, a comedy show to rehearse for and a showcase to produce.

It would also help if I weren’t crying so much.

So, apologies for my lack of writing and apologies for not frequenting your blogs as much as I should, these things come in cycles and I’m sure I’ll be back in full effect before you know it, leaving a string of inappropriate comments and starting arguments with Americans.

Peace.

Friday, 24 November 2006

Killing Children

Don’t worry; I’m not about to hector you regarding the human rights atrocities carried out in Palestine, Iraq and Sudan; I’ll save that for another post. I’m talking about child euthanasia, or the right of parents and doctors to help sick infants to die.

The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists is debating whether it is always right to keep the sickest children alive and the Nuffield Council on Bioethics has released a 247-page report on the matter that can be seen here. It makes for interesting reading and this complicated area generates complicated and conflicting answers.

The key conclusion from the report was: “There are some circumstances in which imposing or continuing treatments to sustain a newborn baby’s life results in a level of irremediable suffering such that there is no ethical obligation to act in order to preserve that life.” Interestingly they state that the interests of the baby are the central consideration and not those of the parents, with the doctor acting in the best interests of the child. Perhaps the most interesting conclusion in relation to euthanasia is the disapproval of any active ending of the child’s life but in the following paragraph, approval for the use of sedatives and analgesics “potentially life-shortening but pain-relieving treatments are morally acceptable” which is the classic method used on both adults and children to speed up the process of inevitable death.

Regular readers will not be surprised that I support child euthanasia, just as I support adult euthanasia and abortion. I believe firmly in choice and I believe that prolonging life unnecessarily is just that. There is another reason for my belief in child euthanasia: bringing up a massively disabled child is often too much for a family unit to manage, heartbreakingly hard in fact. Thus, the family unit collapses and the child is left to be cared for by the state. Disabled children in the UK are nine times more likely to end up in the care of the state and British doctor’s bravery in discussing this matter should be applauded.

Thursday, 23 November 2006

One of my Pet Hates


Have I told you how much I fucking hate snitches?
Never grass me up or I'll fuck you up.
Simple as that.

Wednesday, 22 November 2006

Idiot at the Window

I was stood on the outside looking in for ages

About 12 months to be honest

I so wanted to get in but you wouldn't let me

I must have looked like such an idiot

When you eventually let me in

I didn't want to go inside anymore

Now we are both idiots at the window.

Monday, 20 November 2006

No Return: The Hard Path

The pain of being together is more than being apart

The lonliness of walking by your side is more than walking alone

That's why I'm leaving

She let out this sound, like a hollow scream, the pain keeps coming and coming and coming. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I've failed you.

The heights we reached makes the fall further but at least we reached those heights and no one or nothing can take that away.

Just don't pretend you never knew me.

Thursday, 16 November 2006

Love on the Back Seat of a Bus

I'm sat typing this is in the British Airways First Class Lounge at Heathrow Airport, on my way to film for the project that I mentioned a few days ago so I shall be absent for a while but no fear, when I return I shall be laying on heavy facts and not talking about what I've been up to otherwise they'll sack me and that would be bad.

Why is it that rich people get all the free stuff?

Why is it that sometimes you can love someone so much and want them so badly that no matter where you are, you just want to have them, to bury yourself in them, to be as passionate and as close as you want to be?

Why is it that even angels have to use buses?

Wednesday, 15 November 2006

God’s Foreign Policy

One thing that has always confused me about the Christian Right in the United States is its obsessional support for the Zionist regime in Israel.

The United States has always been the political heavyweight behind the idea of a homeland state for the Jewish people, from enthusiastic support of the concept of Israel under Truman to what is now a frankly bizarre relationship that feeds conspiracy theorists across the globe as to what exactly America could be getting out of such a one sided partnership.

America’s close ties with Israel not only jeopardise any attempts it makes to stabilise the Middle East but also further antagonises the International community who view the aggressively expansionist and human rights infringing nation as a threat to world peace. America pumps some $1.2 billion into Israel, set to increase to $2.4 billion as well as loaning them some $9 billion, it is of little surprise that Israel is at the very top of America’s foreign aid list.

And there seems to be no clear answer as to why? Where is the payback? America’s special relationship with Israel is a disadvantage in foreign policy terms, especially as the Zionist agenda has leaned further and further to the right and the war crimes carried out against Palestinian civilians increase in their severity. The case is clearly for a socio-political foothold in the Arab-Muslim world but Israel behaves more like a proxy aggressor, American funded violence carried out by Zionist lackeys.

And there can be no stranger ally for Israel than the Christian Right but in Christians United for Israel, they have that partner but unlike America’s funding of this apartheid nation the answer to why is a little clearer: the Apocalypse.

You’d think the fact that Jews don’t recognise Christ as the Messiah and are still waiting for their saviour would put evangelical Christians right off but no, it seems that the Holy Land has be saved and populated with Jews in order for the second coming to come off, although the fact that Jews would then have to convert to Christianity and accept the second coming of Christ as their Messiah or burn forever in hell, doesn’t seem to put Israel off from building ties with these mentalists.

Frankly, Israel needs allies wherever they can get them and the Christian Right forms a powerful lobbying group in US politics so even if they don’t agree with the Christianisation behind the concept of End Times, they’ll bite the religious bullet to make an unlikely ally in difficult political times.

Monday, 13 November 2006

Rita

I walked into a pub and saw a lady in her late fifties/early sixties, propped against the bar, swaying slightly under the influence of a few gin and tonics. I stood next to her to order a drink and she turned to me and smiled and said how much she loved tall men and that it’s always nice to be arm in arm with a man and look up to him; to have someone to look after you, to protect you.

I turned to her and asked her where abouts in Wales she came from, her thick, warm accent had given it all away and she said North Wales, Betys-y-Coed and I told her that I walked through there when I was doing The Big Adventure and we discussed the merits of Bangor and the beauty of Snowdon and glacial valleys and how weird Cerrigydruidion is during lambing season.

She offered to buy me a drink and she refused to accept my protestations, as we waited she explained that she used to work in London and that she comes back occasionally to reminisce and get drunk. I asked her name and she said Rita, I shook her hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek. When my pint arrived she waved me off to go and sit with my friends, in reality I wanted to stay and talk to her for as long as she wanted but she reckoned she’d had enough drink and wanted to window shop.

I watched her as she stayed at the bar for a few moments, as alone as she was before I came, the bar staff giving her weird looks and as she walked out I tried to catch her eye to say goodbye and thanks but she just motored past.

As a young man I remember reading Chuck Bukowski and thinking there was something noble and romantic in being a lone drunk, propping up bars and making conversation like some passing ship. Some days I think that’s bullshit and some days I think Rita and Chuck are onto something…

Sunday, 12 November 2006

America’s First Black President?

“The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.”

Barack Obama, 2004 Democratic Keynote Address.

Barack Obama, the Democratic junior Senator for Illinois, is not a man many of you may be familiar with but he is perhaps the best chance America has of having a black President and one thing is for sure, America would love to elect a black man of Mr Obama’s calibre to the highest position in the land.

Barack Obama is being pitched by some as the only challenger to Hillary Clinton’s 14-year preparation (some might say this is a conservative estimate) to become the United State’s first female leader. This is being rather dismissive to the excellent John Edwards and the Democratic leviathan that is Al Gore but my money is on Barack Obama being the Democratic Presidential nomination for 2008 and he will be a formidable foe.

Obama has many strengths, aside from the colour of his skin (he is in fact mixed race but not so much so that the Oreo insult can stick), such as his youth, political integrity and the fact he comes without any of Hillary’s baggage. He is a straight talker, whether it’s referring to his dabbling in cocaine or in reference to the Clinton cannabis fudge: “When I was a kid I inhaled. That was the point.” When it comes to formal public speaking he is rather brilliant and has the stardust that is attractive to voters.

More importantly, 2008 is the right time for him to strike: the GOP by then will be further weakened, the nation fishing around for dynamic change; there will be no incumbent and no vice-President to deal with. In short, there is a golden opportunity for the Barack Obama to become the first black President.

Here’s hoping…

Wednesday, 8 November 2006

Here is the Advert!

I found it! YAY! Click here for a link to the advert in question, my phone has been snowed under with texts from mates who've seen it, which is all good by me.

Any comments on how much of a twat I am will be gratefully received...

Tuesday, 7 November 2006

I’m on Television and Other Ego Massage

The advert I made for the James Bond Casino Royale scratchcard has been running across British TV, which has led to me being recognised in the street already (even though it’s a blink and you’ll miss it performance as a painter and decorator) and also the joy of knowing that every time it’s on, I get money.

HURRAH!

The products connection to the new James Bond movie has meant that it has had great exposure and it is tied in with other leading brands, the rumour on the Internet is that it’ll be shown at selected Odeon cinemas, where they are also giving out free scratchcards to encourage gambling.

Speaking of which, my mum, believing that if sales of the scratchcard in question increase I will personally get the credit and perhaps a financial cut, has been buying large quantities of Casino Royale based gambling devices and triumphantly informed me that she had won £3…the card itself cost £2.

I’ve been keeping something from you my dear readers but I am fit to burst: I have just secured a marvellous acting job that will increase my profile in the United States massively; I can’t say more than that at the moment as these things have to be kept confidential but never the less, these are very exciting and successful times for me.

Peace to you all.

Monday, 6 November 2006

“Love Live Iraq! Long Live the Iraqi People! Down with the Traitors!”

Those were Saddam Hussein’s words as he heard that he had been sentenced to death by hanging and thus enabling Bush to strut around Republican heartlands, trying to shore up votes with the murder of the President of Iraq; parading his scalp like some backward Emperor and amazingly managing the impossible: generating sympathy for the Iraqi dictator.

I’m afraid you’ll never be able to convince me of the worth of the death penalty, I think that state-sponsored murder is abhorrent and sinks us to the level of pigs; vengeful violence has no place in a decent society and Iraq already has massive problems with government death squads administering off hand executions.

I also think that the trial of Saddam was the very worst kind of kangaroo court and it would have been more fitting to see Judge Judy sat omnipotent at its head for all the credence it has. Every major international body has made it clear that this prosecution of Saddam Hussein does not stand up to internationally accepted measures of what makes a fair trial. Indeed, as they worked their way through three judges, endlessly murdered defence lawyers and heavy handed interference from the American sponsors of this most despicable performance piece, the Bush regime must have been challenging the very precept that Saddam should have been brought in alive in the first place.

Max Hastings, in his column for The Guardian newspaper, makes a wonderful point:

“The biggest American mistake was to capture Saddam in the first place. In the House of Commons in 1944, the foreign secretary was asked what instructions had been given to British troops on what to do if they encountered Hitler. Amid laughter, Anthony Eden said: 'I am quite satisfied to leave the decision to the British soldier concerned.'

Among the allied leaders, only Stalin wanted Hitler alive, for the pleasure of hanging him. Everybody else was appalled by the prospective perils and complexities of trying and executing a head of state in partnership with the Russians. Hitler's suicide came as a relief.”


Victor’s justice is always an uncomfortable thing to implement, if you have any shred of human decency that is but at least the Allied forces had some kind of moral superiority over Nazi Germany (even with Stalin on board), unlike the botched and clumsy alliance of Britain and America, who themselves lurch from one crisis to the next.

Sunday, 5 November 2006

Good Advice

Thanks to the brilliant Matson Jones for a stolen song, some girls will never learn that you can't put precious things on shelves...

Oh dear, what's happening here?
Oh dear, I think it's perfectly clear
Oh dear, what's happening here?
Oh dear, I think it's perfectly clear
Give me one small strain of good advice
I never listen
But I'll help you all I can
I never listen
But I'll give you all I can
Give me one small strain of good advice
Some girls will never learn
Some girls will never change
Some girls will never learn
Some girls will stay the same

Thursday, 2 November 2006

The British White Underclass

I remember when Old Man Rich prompted me into moving my focus from US poverty to UK poverty and just recently my attention has been drawn, once again, to poverty in Britain and the building of what could be a vengeful and dangerous white underclass.

Aside from acting, I have always worked with disadvantaged young people from a variety of troubled backgrounds but mostly they’ve been white; born and raised on council estates; straight out of school aged 16 with nothing next to their name apart from a small-time rep that carries little weight in the outside world. There is a current trend I have noticed that is worrying me greatly.

British governments, in all their wisdom, throw money at trouble, especially media friendly trouble, until it’s fixed (ish) and this has led to a public sector culture that is utterly skewed towards BME groups (Black Minority Ethnic), inclusively, diversity and what is tantamount to turning your back on angry, poverty-stricken, young white men.

Please don’t misunderstand me; in the UK we make a deserved focus on those that have been excluded on the basis of their culture, ethnicity or refugee status and this I applaud. I also accept that we still have a long way to go to rid ourselves of the curse that is institutional racism but we have forgotten that the majority of those living in poverty are white and of British origin and this is dangerous and unfair.

The number of very specific, targeted and excellent initiatives for BME/Refugee young people in the UK makes me proud; yet it is white children who are at the very bottom of the pile when it comes to GCSE results amongst other ethnicities who are in poverty. Remember that they are competing with people in this bracket who have English as a second or third language!

We now have a white underclass with poorer results than all other ethnicities, who are the least likely to stay on in education post-16 of any other ethnicity, who end up working in the most unskilled jobs (89% of factory staff are white, 93% of manufacturing staff are white) that in turn have a tenuous longevity in the current economic climate and who commit more crime than any other ethnicity and are more likely to misuse Class A drugs.

They are being outclassed in every single department, yet government funding and initiatives are consistently targeted towards every other ethnicity, apart from this white underclass.

Why does this matter? It matters because it breeds feelings of injustice, it breeds feelings of being left out, of your country no longer being your own, of it turning its back on you and embracing those not even from those shores; in short, it breeds a fervent and nasty brand of racism that in the right hands could be manipulated into a deeply destabilising force: a war of cultures.

The answer is to widen the focus to reduce poverty and things that cause poverty across the board, rather than making judgements and initiatives based on ethnicity. We need inclusively and diversity all right but it’s not one-way traffic; all communities need to be urged to engage and share so that ignorance and misinformation can be dispelled. Only then can we make steps to rid ourselves of the evil of poverty across the board.

Tuesday, 31 October 2006

Waterboarding is a No-Brainer

Dick Cheney is a fuck.

Simple as that.

Waterboarding is a particularly nasty form of torture, it simulates the sensation of drowning but without the pay off that you’ll actually drown; a perpetual drowning so to speak, one long gag reflex.

But that’s okay by the vice president of the United States, a as recent radio interview with Scott Hennen highlighted…

"HENNEN: I've had people call and say, please, let the vice president know that if it takes dunking a terrorist in water, we're all for it, if it saves American lives. Again, this debate seems a little silly given the threat we face, would you agree?

CHENEY: I do agree. And I think the terrorist threat, for example, with respect to our ability to interrogate high value detainees like Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, that's been a very important tool that we've had to be able to secure the nation...

HENNEN: Would you agree a dunk in water is a no-brainer if it can save lives?

CHENEY: It's a no-brainer for me, but for a while there, I was criticized as being the vice president ‘for torture’. We don't torture. That's not what we're involved in."


Like I said, Dick Cheney is a fuck.

Monday, 30 October 2006

Cut and Run?

October 2006 has been one of the bloodiest months for US casualties since February 2005 with some 104 soldiers killed. The in-fighting between Shia militias and the continuing Sunni insurgency is reaching a peak of furious sectarian activity and the figures of total Iraqi civilian deaths present us with shocking reading, even if taken at their most conservative estimate.

In the United States the mid-term elections draw ever closer and the situation in Iraq is being used, rather disgustingly, as a stick by which to beat the Democrats can beat the GOP; who in turn are desperately distancing themselves from Bush and his policies. On face value, with only 19% of Americans thinking that America is winning in Iraq, this may seem a wise tactic but it’s not. All well and good to punish Bush and his party for their mistakes, that is the right of the electorate but it is not fair to punish the people of Iraq.

It was not that long ago ‘Cut and Run’ was used by Republicans as a pejorative term for the policy-paralyzed and distressingly ineffectual Democrats, who could not develop a coherent long term stance on what to do in and with Iraq if you paid them. But now it seems that ‘Cut and Run’ has gained an air of legitimacy on both sides and is being bandied around as if it is in any way a reasonable course of action. It is not.

Let me make this clear: the invasion of Iraq was a terrible mistake, a mistake built on the lie of WMD, on the lie of Saddam as a threat, on the lie of terrorist connections between Iraq and 9/11 and on the selfish desire to gain a oil-rich foothold in the Middle East in some pseudo-imperial desire to spread democracy through the region. But now we are there we have a responsibility to see out our mistake and do everything within our power, no matter what the cost, to put Iraq together; to exhaust every single possible avenue to make Iraq a stable nation once again.

Those that talk of withdrawal to save the lives of American and British soldiers are not only betraying those that have already given their lives to the cause but betraying the Iraqi people, in short, it would be a crime of the highest order. Instead, the troops have to stay, stronger action needs to be taken against the persistent insurgent groups and dialogue needs to be reached with the Iraqi people on how best to take things forward without the total dismantling of the Iraqi state.

We owe that to the Iraqi people and all those that have died in that country.

Friday, 27 October 2006

The Adventures of Yannis

Yesterday my good friend Kirky came to visit, after a brief and dispiriting trot around Harvey Nicks (do you know how hard it is to get jeans that fit my giant body?) and some ridiculous haircuts on the staff in the Paul Smith store, we adjoined to Dirty Dicks near Liverpool Street station for a few pints and some man chat.

From there the curried delights of Brick Lane was only a stumble away, so after a brief haggle (25% discount and two free drinks) we feasted ourselves on fine snap and chatted about whether or not Darren was right in his comments concerning art. I hit Kirky until he agreed with me that Darren was very wrong indeed and that art is a tool for change…

A few more beers later, we began the journey back to Loughton and this is where Yannis appeared, a Greek (possibly Turkish) gentlemen whose broken English; littered with expletives and dangerous imagery, hollered through the London air. Key snippets of his dialogue included the now legendary:

“I LOVE MY LIFE! DON’T SHIT MY LIFE! I JOHN LENNON! DON’T SICK ON MY KIDS! I LOVE MY KIDS! I BOB DYLAN! DON’T SHIT MY KIDS OR I SICK ON YOU THIGH!”

Unfortunately, on the tube on the way home, Yannis saw some posters for UK TV station Channel 5 and he responded quite badly:

“ALL I GET IS CHANNEL 5! I LOVE MY LIFE! CHANNEL 5 GIVE ME CHEMO! MY HAIR FALL OUT LIKE PINE NUTS! CHANNEL 5 GIVE ME CANCER AND CHEMO SO I SICK BUT DON’T KNOW IT! STOP SHITTING ON MY KIDS!”

Thankfully, Yannis was a figment of me and Kirky’s imagination and turned out to be us shouting in the street and on the train.

Oh the joy of booze.

Have a good weekend people; I know me and Yannis certainly will…

Thursday, 26 October 2006

A Blind Man Whistling

The London Underground has designated areas where buskers can ply their trade, licensed busking was originally launched as a trial in 2003, with 25 pitches throughout 12 key Tube stations but this has now expanded. It turns out that some 400 buskers, relying solely on donations from customers, provide over 3,000 hours of live music weekly. And these just aren’t any old buskers, they have to go through a rigorous audition process and are also vetted for police convictions.

None of this could’ve prepared me for the sights and sounds that greeted me at Piccadilly, as I came down the escalator from street level. At first all I could hear was a whistle, echoing towards me, the tune was unregonisable but had a haunting, piercing quality that made me pay attention. As I descended further down I saw a blind man in a luminous yellow visor, stood on the special busking patch, swaying from side to side as he pursed his lips and emitted this shrill but strangely compelling sound.

He seemed lost in some kind of trance as his bulk shifted from foot to foot, like a massive pendulum, making his mouth music as floods of commuters and tourists gawped, pointed and went past. I don’t know what it was but I couldn’t help but think it was one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen and then I thought about the fact that he would’ve auditioned and I tried to imagine what it must have been like to stand in front of a bunch of people and whistle and sway and be judged good enough.

Maybe those people felt as moved and as I did.

Tuesday, 24 October 2006

I’ll Forever Be Your Research Bitch

It has just occurred to me that I spend a great deal of my time reading vast reams of articles and magazines and books on whatever subject has currently got my white, heterosexual, middle-class goat so I can some how evidence my arguments to a high standard and therefore withstand the withering gaze of ignorant asshats.

Why frankly, do I bother? There is something alarmingly pompous in my quest for truth and evidence to pump up my inflated arguments on a wide variety of issues (well, maybe not so wide), when I can hear the gallery scream: “WE PREFERRED IT WHEN YOU WERE FUNNY!”

This addiction to research has started to bleed over in every area of my life, assisted mainly by the joy of the Internet, for example it was with some regret that I turned down the opportunity today to spend a good few hours locating a collection of pre-Modern p0rn. A casual mention by a friend of a desire to study in New York meant I embarked on a long, thorough and utterly unnecessary quest for the finest educational options. I can no longer buy a book or CD without fully exploring all the purchasing options and equating the best deal.

Any causal mention in the news, let’s say of Kenny Rogers (no, not that one) and his stained hand (is it pine tar or is it dirty spit?), leads to a massive Wikipedia research adventure, that stops off at Kenny himself, pine tar (and its uses) and dirty spit.

Yesterday, I plumbed new depths of my Wikipedia addiction to facts, or Wikiphilia as I have coined it, by spending 3 hours looking at the Panama Canal, the world’s biggest ship and rogue waves.

I think I need some penis soup

Monday, 23 October 2006

Tet Offensive Redux

I think the scales are tipping in our favour but at what cost to life in Iraq and Afghanistan?


By tipping in our favour, I mean the slide from power of the neo-con movement in the United States, as its policies fail not only in the imperialist expansion into Iraq and Afghanistan but also the doctrine of total war and pre-emptive defence that has not held up to the old fashioned brinkmanship (of the JFK school) utilised by North Korea and to a degree by al-Qaeda.

Bush has started making parallels with Vietnam and how the current shocking violence in Iraq (some 73 US troops dead since the 1st of this month) could be the equivalent of the Tet Offensive upon civilian moral back home. The Pentagon is accepting defeat in its military thinking as 12,000 additonal troops poured into Baghadad has led to a 22% rise in violence.


I'd like to leave you with an image of a young American soldier staring out of a window during the Tet Offensive, their is something in his eyes that seems to reflect the current situation: the possibility that no more troops lives will be lost but that what will be left behind will further damage a generation of people in both the US and Iraq.


Friday, 20 October 2006

Three Uses of The Knife


"The avant-garde is to the left what jingoism is to the right. Both are a refuge in nonsense."

Three Uses of the Knife is an excellent book by writer and general theatre legend, David Mamet.

The book concerns itself with what makes good drama, why good drama matters in the modern age and why making drama is an essential component of human existence. It also turns out that the book is a very powerful piece of contemporary philosophy.

Mamet makes comparison with ancient Rome and the modern day, stating that: "when all avenues of success have been travelled and all prizes won, the final prize is the delusion of godhead" and so via the act of deification that viewer-voter-fan commits to its preferred choice of individual, we are building the replacement to religion.

He also speaks powerfully about the true purpose of drama: "to remind us that we live in an extraordinarily debauched, interesting, savage world, where things really don't come out even...the purpose of theatre, like magic, like religion (those three harness mates) is to inspire cleansing awe."

As always with Mamet I end up disagreeing with him on some fundamentals, for instance he lays out his argument for theatre never being used an instrument for social change, something I hold as a firm belief. His argument is that it relies on the writer assuming an air of moral/knowledge supremacy that is not only offensive but flawed.

I don't think I could be an actor if I didn't believe that drama and theatre were tools for change, change for the better, no matter how small the victory may be.

Oh and the three uses of the knife are: to cut the bread to give you strength to work, to shave your face to look nice for your lover and on discovering her with another, to cut out her lying heart.

Thursday, 19 October 2006

A Story About a Small Mexican

A funny thing happened to me today, I was on the phone at work and as I was chatting away to what I imagined to be a beautiful young lady with a nice tummy, big eyes and a fantastic arse, I heard a little voice squeak from the receiver:

“Okay! You wanna’ touch my jalapeno meester? I stick it in your eye you beetch!”

I looked down and saw a mini-Mexican (about 3 inches long) protruding from the blower, he was waving his tiny fists at me and doing a little dance to get my attention, he looked like an angry cocktail sausage.

“Okay! I Aztec your sorry ass meester, I jalapeno you in your eye you Spainish peeg dog who invade my lands. TOUCH MY LITTLE PENIS!”

As I removed him from the receiver he bit me with his little stained teeth and did a wee in his Mexican pants with the excitement of it all.

“Okay! Take that and party you beetch, you taste like nasty salsa as I rub my little penis on your arm.”

I made my excuses to the beautiful young lady and arranged to bump into her by mistake at a bookstore, as I was doing so I noticed that the wee man had hauled out his leaky brown willy and was dapping it on my arm.

“Okay! I own you now you beetch, I taco belled you with my man sword, my moustache fills up with spit as I laugh at you meester.”

I could tolerate no more of this behaviour from the miniscule Zapatista and even though I wanted to put him on the tele and make me a fortune from his vexed, tiny body, I scooped him up and popped the bastard in my gob and crunched on his fajita form until he was dead.

Tuesday, 17 October 2006

Don't Mention the President

For Republicans looking for election in this years mid-terms there is one subject that is totally taboo and it's not Iraq, the economy or Anal Foley.

It's the President. The GOP is ashamed of him.

What's being tipped as the "Bush factor" is putting off voters from voting Republican, so in a lovely twist of fate, Rethugs are trying to distance themselves from the loon whilst at the same time accepting some $180 million dollars of funds he's raised for them.

And Republican politicians are going to great lengths to avoid the "Bush factor": removing him from all promotional material, avoiding being seen with him when he visits their district, turning up for fundraisers but only when the President has left and removing all mention of the party they represent in television advertisements.

One Republican would be Senator, Michael Steele of Maryland, tried to pre-empt Democratic attacks on his proximity to Mr Bush by instead appearing with a puppy in his arms. The tactic didn't work. The Democrats snapped back immediately with a television ad showing Mr Steele and Mr Bush, locked together within a heart-shaped frame. "Michael Steele. He likes puppies, but he loves George Bush," the voiceover said.

Monday, 16 October 2006

"There’s a Level of Violence That They Tolerate"

According to a new study (which, of course, has had its validity challenged by the Bush regime) the casualty figure for Iraqi civilians in this fake war is around 600,000.

Fuck me.

Now, the US did their best at first to ignore civilian death (remember: "We don't do body counts.") and refused to make any effort to compute the loss of life, as dead civilians make the war on terror a hard sell but they eventually settling on a ballpark figure of around 117 dead people a day. Naturally, the Pentagon has been trying to suppress a report that goes some way to acknowledge the massive loss of life in Iraq since the invasion but even they only have it at around 150,000.

Bush himself has used a figure of 30,000 Iraqi civilians killed in his war and when challenged with this new data, he replied thus (video here):

"I don’t consider it a credible report, neither does General Casey and neither do Iraqi officials. I do know that a lot of innocent people have died and it troubles me and grieves me. And I applaud the Iraqis for their courage in the face of violence. I am, you know, amazed that this is a society which so wants to be free that they’re willing to, you know, that there’s a level of violence that they tolerate."

*cough*

Yeah, they want to be so free that they just love the the dead bodies piling up around them.

The report is here, go read and make your own mind up.

Sunday, 15 October 2006

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

I see what you're doing here
I see what you're trying to do
You're breaking me down
One nerve at a time
One nerve at a time

Thursday, 12 October 2006

In the Palm of Your Hand

I make her look me in the eye and lift the palm of my right hand up so it forms a horizontal line. I take my left index finger and place in the middle of my upturned palm, forcing down, making a dent in my skin:

"That's where you've got me, right there, right in the palm of your hand."

She doesn't believe me, I don't blame her but I'm telling the truth. I'm there, right there, vulnerable, naked, exposed, at her mercy.

Do with me what you will.

Wednesday, 11 October 2006

A Brief Moment in Time

We talk about how being lost
In a place
Just me and you
A place where no one can find us
Is a bad thing
How it's a denial of the wider world
An impossible dream
That's not worth having
So why do I dream of you?
I feel like a dream
That's not worth having
A bad joke
Where nobody's laughing
Washed up on the shore
With the emotion of you