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Watching the ridiculous dick-waving around North Korea’s latest attempt to piss everyone off, the preference for religious-excused extremism in and around the Middle East, the age-old tribal disputes exacerbated by natural disasters centring around the Indian sub-continent, and the storms ravaging the US, and soon an array of island nations; I have to start wondering, what is the point?

Saturday was a lovely day, but it feels a long time ago.

We have a world that is determinedly divided. If nothing else, the human race is extremely adept at creating, nurturing and retaining squabbles, conflicts and destructive arguments; and maintaining them over timescales that border on, or significantly surpass, lunacy.

And behind man’s ability to initiate disaster at the drop of a hat, there is also a global eco-system that appears well and truly hacked off with our continued presence.

And we have an ever-growing population that will need feeding and housing, whilst the power brokers appear keener on profit than the long-term.

We may already have passed the tipping point as far as the world’s capability to sustain the relentless growth of mankind, but even if that point hasn’t as yet been reached, it looms large, front and centre.

So, I ask again, what is the point?

As a world, we have two options. The first, and the more preferable, is to do everything in our power to reduce the conflict, try to reverse the damage to the eco-system, and find a way of co-existing with each other in a cooperative way that provides us all with a future.

Or, we carry on the way we are going.

Callous objectivism can run amok. Let the wars escalate. Let the destruction of nature’s balance continue.

If nature doesn’t drastically reduce the population to one that can survive with what has been left, then man can do a pretty good job of shrinking populations.

All a little extreme. All a little far-fetched. All decidedly depressing.

Maybe. But not by much.

There is hope, there is always hope. The ‘Titanic’ orchestra mentality carries on long after it should have had a large gin and given up the ghost.

But it will take significant shifts in outlook, attitude, determination.

To stop the dick-wavers. To stop the zealots. To stop the ‘head-in-the-sand’ deniers.

After Saturday I still hope. But I am scared. Very scared.

As a respite from the constant moaning that tends to make up most of my blogs, I thought it would be a pleasant change to talk about one of the more uplifting moments in my life.

A couple of days ago I went to The Downs Festival, an afternoon / evening music and community festival in Bristol.

Not quite as ‘community’ as the Bristol festivals of old used to be, and with a lot more rules, but the sun was shining, I was with my son and adopted family – long story for those out of the loop – and the crowds were smiling.

And it wasn’t a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ as far as everything that is wrong with this world. There was an area set aside for discussions about all that concerns, upsets, angers us.

But it was polite, and honest, and full sentences rather than sound bites. Nuance ruled!

And all were there, young activists from all sides, private individuals who just decided they COULD make a difference, varied and diverse groups all with the aim of making at least one small corner of the globe a better place.

With a smile. And a rap. Or a poem. And an occasional joke. And a few obscenities.

And on the two stages, music. A lot, I will admit, not within my particular orbit of first preference, but people danced, and smiled, and came together.

And from nowhere, I was approached by possibly the worst shirt in the world, and was asked for a selfie by the owner because I looked like his grandfather. Okay, save the jokes for later.

And my dear son decided that this was the best thing, ever. He made a sign, ‘Want a selfie with my dad?’. Without approaching anyone, people kept saying yes. When asked for a reason, and being told that it was purely for his amusement, they all agreed.

Total strangers, smiling with total strangers, for the amusement of one. Well, to be fair, the humour of it seemed to spread a little further, but the fundamental remained. To smile, to connect for a moment, is sufficient reason.

And the afternoon moved on, and the music – for me – improved. And I got to see a toddler, not yet 2, really getting her groove on. And later, her mother getting her own groove on, even though the night was getting a little chilly.

And I met the co-founder of ‘MakeVotesMatter’, who was young and modest, and made me feel very humble. And definitely is destined for great things.

And people came together to sing, and wave, and cheer a stage streaker who waltzed with the singer – briefly. And, with the extended chorus of the penultimate song I couldn’t sing because my vision was blurred by tears of simple happiness.

And a day came to an end, in the company of two of the best I know.

In a crowd of diversity, but all with the ability to come together and find happiness in the open air. And share simple pleasures, and hugs with strangers, and positivity for tomorrow.

And today is Monday, and reality bites hard. But the memory, and the memory of the promise of something better, is still there.

Groove On!!

Firstly, let me say that I have nothing but sympathy for all those caught up in Hurricane Harvey’s torrential soaking of Houston. For every person lost, for every home destroyed, and for every animal killed by the deluge, I feel for you all.

And it is a big story. Big storm. Big water. Big city. Big destruction. Big continuing threats to health, safety, industry.

And in the strongest, richest country in the world.

But not the only country in the world. Not by a long shot.

Now, I appreciate that large sections of the US population have no real awareness of the rest of the world, but I had hoped that we did.

I know they shout loudly, and are expert at waving their dicks around at the worst possible time, and are happy to blame the recent floods on the gay members of society, but they are one country.

As far as I can see, the death toll is around 18 at present, although it will sadly rise. And each is one too many.

But……

In Yemen, India, Nepal and Bangladesh, thousands have died in recent floods and natural disasters. Thousands. And each one is one too many.

But not as important. Because otherwise they would be spread all over the news. And as the scale is larger, the devastation more terrifying, the reporting would be of a larger scale than that covering the US.

Except it’s not.

Because they don’t matter as much? Because we are so used to hearing about natural disasters in these countries that it just doesn’t register any more?

Or are the media just looking for new news, not repeats of old stories?

Whatever the reason, it is not good enough. Not by a long, long way.

We have enough indirect blood on our hands as far as Yemen is concerned, supplying the weapons used by Saudi Arabia to kill innocent people, without at least acknowledging that there are catastrophes across the world that deserve as much sympathy, support and awareness.

The US is more than capable of looking after its own. Whether it does or not is a whole different blog.

The rest of the world should be paying attention to the rest of the world.

Now.

They do say that the summer is the silly season for news, but, until today, the laughs were in short supply.

However, it is good to be able to rely on Boris Johnson to get us back to the belly laughs.

Apart from the running joke that he is the UK’s Foreign Secretary, our representative across the globe, he has added depth to his buffoonery with one of the most hypocritical statements I have heard in a long time.

For reasons that, at present, escape me, he is in Libya, meeting, greeting, pontificating.

And apart from slapping his boss in the face with the warning to local politicians not to hold an election until they are ready, what topped it all was his call for unity.

“I think the politicians need as it were to suppress their own selfish interests, compromise for the good of the country and get behind the UN plan.”

It takes a very special kind of non-awareness to make that statement. To decry sectarian  and internal disputes in favour of the greater good. To value agreement over aggravation, duality over division.

When Hollywood decide to remake ‘Faceoff’, the good news is that they will only need one person to play the two opposing characters. Because Boris has been facing both ways for his entire career.

And whilst the button-pushing capabilities are not the same, the similarities between Boris and the other arch ‘both ways at the same time (or even in the same sentence)’ protagonist – Donald Trump – are striking.

We do indeed live in a post-truth, or at least a post ‘remember history’ world. And it is an indication of the lack of respect held by those in power for their constituents that they have no concerns about chopping and changing their pronouncements as it suits.

I have no problem with political leaders changing their minds. What I keep hoping for, but never get, is the human admission that they got it wrong to begin with.

That will never happen.

But at least, with the sun shining and a bank holiday looming large, at least the silly season has been represented by the arch-clown himself.

 

The sun has come out, birds sing, flowers blossom, holidays are enjoyed. This should be the time for relaxing, kicking back and putting strife in the chiller for a while.

But the firestorm burns bright.

Neo-Nazis march with swastikas, loudly proclaim Jews as the cause of all ills – at least the Muslims get a break – and insult the memory of every American soldier that died in World War 2 to defeat the wavers of that flag.

Anti-fascist protesters are held as culpable for the ensuing disorder by a self-aggrandising  fool, who has no control over his mouth, or his thoughts, or the people who put him in power.

But he did defend the constitution. First Amendment, Freedom of Speech. No matter how hateful, how wrong, how divisive, inflammatory or downright evil. That is what men died for. Fighting the Nazis to allow people to be Nazis. Irony is a bitch.

And there is no need to hide the statues away, which was, apparently to initial spark that caused the problems.

The USA should take a lesson from Europe. To mark, and remember, the Holocaust, and everything else that fascism brought with it, you take your statues, you take your insignia and memorabilia, and you put it in a Slavery Museum. You retain the context, you retain the story, you retain the truth.

You do not destroy history, you ensure it is told properly.

And if, faced with the whole truth, people still want to see only one – white – side, then you give them medication, pat them on the head, and treat them like the fools they are. Because there is no hope for them. If reality doesn’t work, they are lost. Ask Trump.

And it is the same here. Conflict in Grantham over the weekend, between the National Front and anti-fascist protesters. Although the pictures are interesting. It seems that the police were only interested in detaining protesters, not the National Front. And they could have been, for inciting racial hatred, which IS against the law in the UK.

But we cannot be definitive, because who trusts the press.

What we can be definite about is that they need to be called out. Every time. All the time.

And not just the NF, or KKK, or every other fascist and neo-nazi group around the world.

But also those who step back from outright condemnation. Who prevaricate over their statements of criticism.

There is no room for fudging, because evil is evil.

But we need to be clear. It is the fascist and the neo-nazi that is evil, not the Christian church.

It is IS, or ISIS, or whatever acronym the delusional extremists and misfits want to use, not Islam.

And, from a more personal perspective, leave the Jews alone. Apart from the situation in Israel, which is long overdue a rational solution, they have been through enough.

If you want to know who to hold to account for the misfortunes in your lives, put the swastika down, and first look in the mirror. And ask the question:-

Why am I blaming those who have been exploited for the wrongs in my life? What about those I have put into power? Who make the decisions that keep me down, who ensure that, whilst I chase scapegoats they carry on exploiting us all.

Words are indeed mightier than the sword. And as has been proven this week, they can kill.

I have given up trying to get to sleep. Exhaustion – or whatever that feeling is – persuaded me, on a Saturday night, to go to bed before ten. Totally rock and roll.

But the skin feels alive, almost as if it wants to escape. And the muscles refuse to relax. So I am sitting here trying to sift it all through to allow a break, a rest.

And there is no sense to it. Putting work to one side, there have been so many positives this week.

Wednesday night saw my selection, from five potential candidates, to be a town councillor. As a new boy in town I was surprised, and very humbled.

After giving me grief of late, a replacement for my ancient remnant of a car seems finally to be in place. I cooked a damned fine Brazilian fish stew.

And this morning I got the joy of watching a variety of kids, including one very special girl, doing what they do best.

So all was going well. I wandered off to Lidl to stock up on a few essentials. The car park was full, I looked at the shop entrance, and couldn’t go in. The thought of a busy shop left me staring at the door for what felt like an age before I turned round and went home.

And from there the world started to disappear.

And i should have been happy. I hung my laundry out first thing this morning, and a cloud burst 800 yards down the road left my garden dry as a bone. The Super rugby final was on in the afternoon.

And yet, the world kept moving further away.

Deciding that it was down to being awake since 3.00 am, and finally giving up and making the first cup of coffee at 6.00 am, I pushed it away, mowed the lawn, made some lunch, and then found myself blankly regarding nothing a couple of hours later.

And so it has been for the rest of the night. Periods of presence, answered texts, ate, then the time disappeared.

I suppose by now I should be used to these fluctuations, rises and falls, the periods of dullness and dark, soundless noise in the midst of good news, beginnings, progress and change.

i suppose there needs to be a balance in everything, but it would be nice to be able to enjoy the ups a little more.

I have so many blessings, so much to bring light in. And yet I just can’t find the key to that final door at the end of the corridor.

And this is not for sympathy. Understanding maybe. Apology perhaps. Thankfulness for the light bringers – they know who they are.

But also to get it out of my head and placed somewhere less harmful.

And maybe to anyone who also has dark days, that the lights do come on again. And they always will.

Whether it helps me get to sleep – anyone’s guess.

But here goes!

 

 

Yesterday’s little self-indulgent mope about an over-active mind at 3.37 a.m. was yesterday.

After watching the news last night, I am just totally pissed off, angry, fuming, capable of inflicting some serious bruising.

Although there are so many ongoing problems, crises, threats out there, the tipping point – last night anyway – was the desperate situation in Yemen. A proxy war between Saudi Arabia and Iran, the whole country’s population is in a dire nutritional and medical state.

And, beyond the apparent ‘diplomatic’ discussions being held to solve the situation, the UK government is more than happy to support the sales of huge amounts of weaponry to Saudi Arabia. So, on your behalf, the government is happy to sanction the murder of countless civilians.

Another item, less immediately life-threatening but still an indication of the disconnect between those in power and real life, is the government’s decision to commission a review of the role and value of migrant workers in the UK.

Now, as this was one of the reasons behind the EU referendum, would it not have made sense to do this before that vote? At least we might have had something vaguely akin to the truth in the whole debate – or at least a few facts.

At the very least, should this not have been put in motion as soon as the result was declared? Does anyone in power actually know what they are doing? Apart from leaking against each other at every opportunity, the main ‘players’ are doing exactly that. Playing with our futures.

The third and final back-breaking straw was on ‘The Daily Show’, US cable TV’s most accurate news analysis outlet – on the Comedy Channel, where else?

The head of a charity attempting to bring medical support to the people of Syria was being interviewed, and, amongst so much that is already known, stated categorically that the Assad regime is specifically targeting medical facilities.

The only question I have is ‘What the FUCK?’

I know there are national leaders who see their position and the retention of power as a justification for just about anything.

But this has all got to stop.

The world has to get rid of the Trumps, Mays, Putins, Assads, etc.

The world is too small, the gaps too narrow, the commonalities far more numerous than the differences.

Humanity is a fundamentally imperfect thing, with the potential for an infinite variety of evil deeds.

Humanity is also capable of creating beauty, serenity, community. And this side of humanity’s nature has, to a greater or lesser extent over the centuries held the upper hand.

The balance is shifting in a worryingly negative direction, and the slope is getting steeper.

So, if we can no longer rely on the leaders to solve the problems, maybe we should let anarchy, and peace, have a chance.

Before it is too late.

Just saying.

The upside of seeing 3.37 a.m. every morning is that is provides the opportunity to mull over all the positives in my life.

Apart from knackering myself in the process, moving my son into a new flat-share in the old Olympic Village, and the start of a new chapter.

Seeing a dear one wading through the tough stuff, and being presented with ever more little rays of light.

Receiving an invitation to my youngest nephew’s wedding in November.

Looking at the latest Bristol Rugby squad and feeling just a smidge of positivity.

Even the Tory government being forced into the odd reversal brings a small smile at that dark and silent time of the early morning.

The downside of seeing 3.37 a.m. every morning is that I can never get back to sleep before all the other stuff crashes in from all sides.

Echoes of all those fatuous, spurious and disingenuous statements from those supposedly in charge of our destiny.

The louder, and scarier bombast from across the ocean, as an orange leader also tries to turn the clock back to the 19th century.

The inability of any of the sides in the many areas of division and conflict around the world to see more than a few inches, or a couple of steps, in front of them. And never to see the other sides point of view.

The seeming permanence of self-interest over common good, in each and every walk of life. In every corner of the world.

Even the revelations that should lead to resolution raise the question why? Why are there still revelations? Why does it take us so long to get things right. When we eventually do. Which isn’t anywhere near as often as we should.

Or maybe I am just tired. And jaded. And cynical.

And there are always rays of sunshine. They just have to work so hard these days to bring the light in.

But hey, it is only 3.37 a.m. so it’s never going to be that bright.

So we keep trying, to make one little thing better than it was. Or at least no worse. And maybe that will do for now. Until enough people have had enough.

Then, who knows.

But sleep would definitely help.

 

Recently, a totally unintended result of Tory machinations to control the behaviour of the BBC was the highlighting of the ongoing pay disparity between men and women.

Whilst the entertainment industry has always set its own income levels, based on demand and what the market will bear, the gaps within the BBC were sad and unsurprisingly impressive. And we have to assume that the same situation, or even worse, exists behind the camera.

And bland statements that the BBC is actually better than the national average, and is working towards equality, are mean-spirited and disingenuous.

If there is an unwarranted gap you close it. Takes 5 minutes to sign a new contract. No need for a delay.

And, along with just about every other industry, it seems that sport is the same. Top level sportsmen command astronomical incomes, based again, in general, on what the market within any particular sport will stand.

But there is still the ongoing saga of prize money differentiation.

Well, sorry guys, but a winner is a winner. A champion is a champion.

And now rugby joins the throng of moving away from, rather than towards, equal treatment.

The England Rugby Team, the world champions, are seeing their contracts ceasing after the World Cup in August. There will be new contracts for the upcoming Sevens competitions, but nothing for the 15 a side squad until, presumably, we head into the next World Cup.

There are, of course, the small matter of 6 Nations competitions every year to consider, but hey ho.

Now, it would be interesting to see what would happen if the same approach was applied to their male counterparts. There would be tantrums, tears and testosterone-fueled angst that would put The Game of Thrones to shame.

It would never happen. Even though the England Rugby Team (male) are not a more successful squad. No, simply because the game is run by men.

And even though the RFU has had a bumper year, and even though they have a stated aim of expanding the game further into the grassroots, they seem remarkably shortsighted in the method of generating that interest and enthusiasm.

There are all sorts of reasons put forward, the main one being that the women’s game doesn’t get as much public support. Could this have anything to do with the fact that it doesn’t get as much media coverage, or RFU promotion? That was rhetorical by the way.

The England Women’s Cricket Team have just had a superb triumph, and coverage was everywhere. But watch how quickly that fades, and the ongoing activities disappear from view.

The solution is simple. Yes really.

If you want equality of opportunity and access, of participation and development. Of progressive national success, then you bite the bullet, accept that, till now, things have not been fair, and change it.

There may be a time lag while the nation catches up with all the potential that is on offer, but they will.

And if you want success, then get that playing field levelled!

About 10 months ago, I wrote about a bright and shining woman, standing on a cliff, looking down at where she has come from, looking up at the future that may be.

Well, she is still on that cliff, but the view has changed.

For a start, the cliff is higher than before. Over time, solid blocks have been added below her feet, some from previously unknown sources. But each one adding strength, awareness, understanding and support.

The threads that bind around her waist are as strong as ever, holding her steady, helping to raise her up as each block is placed beneath her.

And they have been added to, by a myriad of people now aware, now angry, now determined to continue and extend the support, the raising up.

But, as this is real life, there have been attempts to slow her progress. Some, originating from the same old source of pain and anguish, have been dismissed, sidelined and stamped upon. But they have left scars.

Others have come from unexpected quarters, to add to the stress, the pressure, the unnecessary distractions. And they too bring their scars.

And yet, she stands proud. Because she has the strength to continue, through the exhaustion and pain. Because she knows who she is, and why she is here, and why she will move forward. Because there are those she cannot leave behind.

There are people who need her. They may not know it, and they may not know why, but there is something they need that only she can give them.

And there are those who will see her as an exemplar, as a designer of routes, up and out from under.

And the rest of us? We still marvel. We still cheer. We still hold tight to the threads, and double their strength, and double again.

We will never let go, I will never let go.

Not until she has reached her goal, wherever that may be. And even then we will keep hold, because the power she brings to herself, she brings to us all.