I have loved this land for a thousand years,
You cannot take it from me now
And though it may have changed
My feelings stay the same
You cannot take it from me now
You have soiled this land
You have torn its soul
These people aren't your sheep
They're my brothers
I have loved this land for a thousand years
You cannot take it from me now
Despite the ways of time
This love for it is mine
You cannot take it from me now
You have claimed a throne
But you cannot claim the bones
These people aren't your sheep
They're my brothers
I have loved this land for a thousand years
You cannot take it from me now
Friday, 23 August 2013
Monday, 19 August 2013
The Underground
Edward and the old woman met eyes. Sweat dripped slowly down his forehead as both edged closer to the spare seat from opposite sides. The rest of the tube compartment watched whilst pretending not to; a man in huge spectacles peered over the top of his newspaper, giving himself a paper cut under his nose.
Edward's eyes narrowed. Both parties picked up speed, but Edward was faster. He flung himself down into the seat and defiantly rested his briefcase on his lap, straightening his tie and flashing the old woman a smug smile as she scuttled back to the pole on which she had previously rested. He could feel the heat of judgement from all of those squeezed in around him, but he didn't care. He'd had too long a day to care for such common courtesies.
The tube stopped at the next station. Edward passed the time by reading the billboard on the platform; trying to match the advertisement slogans to the brands. He quickly realized that he was unable to do so for any which were more recent than five years old. Oh dear. He had lost touch with things.
The large woman sat next to him stood up, and Edward finally felt able to exhale and release the final inches of his body mass. His old woman nemesis began her decent upon the seat, but was abruptly halted by a tall, thin and doughy eyed man who almost knocked her down as he fell into the cushioned spot. Finally, thought Edward, somebody ruder than him. He never thought he'd see the day.
Edward watched the man out of the corner of his eye. Of course, the unwritten law of the London Underground forbids direct eye contact, so Edward pretended to sift through the crumpled papers in his case.
After several moments, he felt the uncomfortable sensation that he was no longer the watcher, but the watched. He dared to turn his head to the right, and was met by the man's face so close to his own that they were practically rubbing noses.
'Hello,' said the man. his black hair was pushed back, glued to his pointed scalp. His eyes were dark, almost black, and wide with an unnervingly friendly curiosity. His thin mouth was spread in a wide smile. 'Hello. Hello,' he repeated, in just as high and enthusiastic a voice as he had used previously. Edward rubbed his nose. The man smelt of peppermint.
What was this man doing? This was certainly not permitted by tube etiquette. Direct conversing! He tried to ignore the man, falling deeper into his case. He played with his sandy hair, untied and retied his shoelace. But still the eyes were on him.
'Hello.' The voice cut through him, smacking him in the face like a frozen sausage.
'Yes, hello,' said Edward irritably without looking up. The eyes continued to watch so that eventually he had to turn towards the man, who was still watching.
'Nice to meet you. I'm an alien.'
Edward rolled his eyes. Oh, here we go. An underground nutter. Well, it was a Friday afternoon.
'Brilliant,' he said quickly.
'No, you're brilliant. Lovely man on a lovely train. How are you today?'
'Fine, thank you.'
'No, thank you.'
Edward sighed as obviously as he could muster. 'I'm sorry, did you want something in particular?'
The man's smile did not fade. 'Your world is very nice, but very strange. Please tell me about it. It is not like mine.'
Edward looked at his watch. Well, he supposed, it would be another twenty minutes before he reached his stop. This could be an entertaining way to pass it. He looked around quickly. The women on either side of them were both plugged into the iPods, whilst those on the other side of the carriage either could not hear, or had the common decency to pretend.
'Very well,' said Edward. 'What would you like to know?'
'Everyone in your world is very beautiful. So beautiful. How is it that everyone is so beautiful and healthy?'
Edward thought for a moment, remembering a fat man he had once seen eating a burger off the floor outside McDonald's at four in the morning. Beautiful?
Edward almost didn't answer, but he could not resist the opportunity to impart knowledge. He would play along. 'Well, I suppose it's because we have hospitals, which are buildings where people look after you when you're ill. So if people are ill, then hopefully they're in a hospital. So everyone outside the hospital is healthy.'
'Really? You speak the truth?' The man was amazed.
'To an extent, yes.'
'And who heals in these hospitals? Who are these angels?'
'They're called doctors. Oh, and nurses. Can't forget the nurses, they do all the nitty gritty. It's all thanks to the NHS really, though that's a controversial topic, what with all the recent hullaballoo regarding the welfare state.'
The man stared at him blankly, furrowing his eyebrows. 'Hullababoo? Nitty gritsy? I do not understand.'
Edward blushed. 'Never mind.'
The man smiled again. 'Yes, never mind. Everyone in your world is so clever. Why are you so clever? How do you learn so many things?'
Edward sat up a little straighter. He had always prided himself on his intelligence. 'Well, from books mostly. Libraries and the such. And school.'
'School?'
'Yes. It's a building where you are taught things as a child. A building for learning, if you will.'
The eyes grew wider. 'That sounds magical.'
'It's not really,' said Edward, the memory of having his head flushed down the loo by Roger Fredson rushing back to him.
'And who teaches these things in these places?'
'Teachers, funnily enough. That's what they're called. They're adults who make it their job to teach things that they know to children. Mathematics, literature, historical events, science and so on.'
'Wow. Angels. All angels. What other jobs can angels of your world do?'
Edward mumbled to show his skepticism at the titling of every human being as an angelic force to be reckoned with. It wouldn't be the first word he would use to describe the McDonald's burger man.
He counted off absentmindedly on his fingers. 'Well, there's cleaners and binmen who keep things tidy. Drivers who take people places in cars, buses or trains like this one.' The man looked around as if only just noticing his surroundings. Edward continued. 'Then there's shopkeepers who make sure people can buy what they want to buy. Office workers who make sure useful companies remain intact. Farmers who make sure people have food to eat- '
'And what do you do?'
'Oh. I'm a lawyer.' Out of habit, Edward prepared himself for a dose of scrutiny.
'And what is that?'
'Well, if someone does something bad, then the police capture them and then it's my job to prove that they did in fact do the bad thing, so that they can be punished for it.'
The man screeched with joy. 'But that is a very fantastic thing! What a good good man you are!'
Edward laughed sheepishly. 'Thank you, that's not the whole story but, to an effect, yes, very good.'
'What else, what else?'
'Erm, well there's writers and actors who keep people entertained. And plumbers and builders and electricians who make sure everyone's houses are working properly. And the Prime Minister of course. And- '
'The what?'
'The Prime Minister.'
'And what does this person do?'
Edward searched for a suitable answer. 'Well, everything really.'
The man looked astounded. He sat back in his chair as if physically knocked by the statement. 'Everything? So this person heals and tidies and teaches and shopkeeps and captures and entertains and builds?'
'Well, no. He just makes sure everything is being done.'
'But what does he do?'
Edward paused. 'I don't understand.'
'If nurses and doctors heal and teachers teach and police capture and so on and so on then what does the Prime Minister add to this?'
'Well, erm, he- ' Edward fumbled, tripping over his words. 'He just watches and- '
'Only watches?! Only watches while others work?'
'Well, he has responsibilities that we do not understand. He is in charge.'
'This man is in charge?' The man grabbed his head and shook it as if trying to force the information to make sense. 'The man who does nothing is in charge!'
Before Edward had a chance to respond, he was rescued by the halting of the train.
The man stood up. 'I shall get off here now, good man. Thank you so much for your informative ways.'
'Oh, very well then.' Edward said the next sentence without thinking, voicing his own disappointed tone. 'Same time on Monday?'
The man shook his head slowly. 'I'm afraid I will not see Monday, good man. I cannot survive long in this beautiful place. But I wanted to see it. I could not live without seeing the legendary Earth.'
The man stretched out his hand and Edward shook it sadly. It was ice cold.
'Goodbye,' said Edward. The man simply smiled his wide smile and exited the train, leaving Edward to face the journey home alone.
Edward's eyes narrowed. Both parties picked up speed, but Edward was faster. He flung himself down into the seat and defiantly rested his briefcase on his lap, straightening his tie and flashing the old woman a smug smile as she scuttled back to the pole on which she had previously rested. He could feel the heat of judgement from all of those squeezed in around him, but he didn't care. He'd had too long a day to care for such common courtesies.
The tube stopped at the next station. Edward passed the time by reading the billboard on the platform; trying to match the advertisement slogans to the brands. He quickly realized that he was unable to do so for any which were more recent than five years old. Oh dear. He had lost touch with things.
The large woman sat next to him stood up, and Edward finally felt able to exhale and release the final inches of his body mass. His old woman nemesis began her decent upon the seat, but was abruptly halted by a tall, thin and doughy eyed man who almost knocked her down as he fell into the cushioned spot. Finally, thought Edward, somebody ruder than him. He never thought he'd see the day.
Edward watched the man out of the corner of his eye. Of course, the unwritten law of the London Underground forbids direct eye contact, so Edward pretended to sift through the crumpled papers in his case.
After several moments, he felt the uncomfortable sensation that he was no longer the watcher, but the watched. He dared to turn his head to the right, and was met by the man's face so close to his own that they were practically rubbing noses.
'Hello,' said the man. his black hair was pushed back, glued to his pointed scalp. His eyes were dark, almost black, and wide with an unnervingly friendly curiosity. His thin mouth was spread in a wide smile. 'Hello. Hello,' he repeated, in just as high and enthusiastic a voice as he had used previously. Edward rubbed his nose. The man smelt of peppermint.
What was this man doing? This was certainly not permitted by tube etiquette. Direct conversing! He tried to ignore the man, falling deeper into his case. He played with his sandy hair, untied and retied his shoelace. But still the eyes were on him.
'Hello.' The voice cut through him, smacking him in the face like a frozen sausage.
'Yes, hello,' said Edward irritably without looking up. The eyes continued to watch so that eventually he had to turn towards the man, who was still watching.
'Nice to meet you. I'm an alien.'
Edward rolled his eyes. Oh, here we go. An underground nutter. Well, it was a Friday afternoon.
'Brilliant,' he said quickly.
'No, you're brilliant. Lovely man on a lovely train. How are you today?'
'Fine, thank you.'
'No, thank you.'
Edward sighed as obviously as he could muster. 'I'm sorry, did you want something in particular?'
The man's smile did not fade. 'Your world is very nice, but very strange. Please tell me about it. It is not like mine.'
Edward looked at his watch. Well, he supposed, it would be another twenty minutes before he reached his stop. This could be an entertaining way to pass it. He looked around quickly. The women on either side of them were both plugged into the iPods, whilst those on the other side of the carriage either could not hear, or had the common decency to pretend.
'Very well,' said Edward. 'What would you like to know?'
'Everyone in your world is very beautiful. So beautiful. How is it that everyone is so beautiful and healthy?'
Edward thought for a moment, remembering a fat man he had once seen eating a burger off the floor outside McDonald's at four in the morning. Beautiful?
Edward almost didn't answer, but he could not resist the opportunity to impart knowledge. He would play along. 'Well, I suppose it's because we have hospitals, which are buildings where people look after you when you're ill. So if people are ill, then hopefully they're in a hospital. So everyone outside the hospital is healthy.'
'Really? You speak the truth?' The man was amazed.
'To an extent, yes.'
'And who heals in these hospitals? Who are these angels?'
'They're called doctors. Oh, and nurses. Can't forget the nurses, they do all the nitty gritty. It's all thanks to the NHS really, though that's a controversial topic, what with all the recent hullaballoo regarding the welfare state.'
The man stared at him blankly, furrowing his eyebrows. 'Hullababoo? Nitty gritsy? I do not understand.'
Edward blushed. 'Never mind.'
The man smiled again. 'Yes, never mind. Everyone in your world is so clever. Why are you so clever? How do you learn so many things?'
Edward sat up a little straighter. He had always prided himself on his intelligence. 'Well, from books mostly. Libraries and the such. And school.'
'School?'
'Yes. It's a building where you are taught things as a child. A building for learning, if you will.'
The eyes grew wider. 'That sounds magical.'
'It's not really,' said Edward, the memory of having his head flushed down the loo by Roger Fredson rushing back to him.
'And who teaches these things in these places?'
'Teachers, funnily enough. That's what they're called. They're adults who make it their job to teach things that they know to children. Mathematics, literature, historical events, science and so on.'
'Wow. Angels. All angels. What other jobs can angels of your world do?'
Edward mumbled to show his skepticism at the titling of every human being as an angelic force to be reckoned with. It wouldn't be the first word he would use to describe the McDonald's burger man.
He counted off absentmindedly on his fingers. 'Well, there's cleaners and binmen who keep things tidy. Drivers who take people places in cars, buses or trains like this one.' The man looked around as if only just noticing his surroundings. Edward continued. 'Then there's shopkeepers who make sure people can buy what they want to buy. Office workers who make sure useful companies remain intact. Farmers who make sure people have food to eat- '
'And what do you do?'
'Oh. I'm a lawyer.' Out of habit, Edward prepared himself for a dose of scrutiny.
'And what is that?'
'Well, if someone does something bad, then the police capture them and then it's my job to prove that they did in fact do the bad thing, so that they can be punished for it.'
The man screeched with joy. 'But that is a very fantastic thing! What a good good man you are!'
Edward laughed sheepishly. 'Thank you, that's not the whole story but, to an effect, yes, very good.'
'What else, what else?'
'Erm, well there's writers and actors who keep people entertained. And plumbers and builders and electricians who make sure everyone's houses are working properly. And the Prime Minister of course. And- '
'The what?'
'The Prime Minister.'
'And what does this person do?'
Edward searched for a suitable answer. 'Well, everything really.'
The man looked astounded. He sat back in his chair as if physically knocked by the statement. 'Everything? So this person heals and tidies and teaches and shopkeeps and captures and entertains and builds?'
'Well, no. He just makes sure everything is being done.'
'But what does he do?'
Edward paused. 'I don't understand.'
'If nurses and doctors heal and teachers teach and police capture and so on and so on then what does the Prime Minister add to this?'
'Well, erm, he- ' Edward fumbled, tripping over his words. 'He just watches and- '
'Only watches?! Only watches while others work?'
'Well, he has responsibilities that we do not understand. He is in charge.'
'This man is in charge?' The man grabbed his head and shook it as if trying to force the information to make sense. 'The man who does nothing is in charge!'
Before Edward had a chance to respond, he was rescued by the halting of the train.
The man stood up. 'I shall get off here now, good man. Thank you so much for your informative ways.'
'Oh, very well then.' Edward said the next sentence without thinking, voicing his own disappointed tone. 'Same time on Monday?'
The man shook his head slowly. 'I'm afraid I will not see Monday, good man. I cannot survive long in this beautiful place. But I wanted to see it. I could not live without seeing the legendary Earth.'
The man stretched out his hand and Edward shook it sadly. It was ice cold.
'Goodbye,' said Edward. The man simply smiled his wide smile and exited the train, leaving Edward to face the journey home alone.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Life, Death, and giving a fuck
A moment of silence
An intake of breath
An appreciation for life goes hand in hand
With a fear of death
Fuck it. Fuck the end
Who knows where it goes?
It's cold and dark and miserable
Let's look where I know
So fuck death, fuck life
And fuck an impending inevitability that everything and nothing means
Everything and nothing
I'd rather live than wait
I'd rather die than drain
The meaning of our every action in the eyes of something unknown
Is not a thought that plagues my brain
I'd rather be a sinner
Who rolls down in life's muck
And if a saintly glow smites me down
Seriously, who gives a fuck?
An intake of breath
An appreciation for life goes hand in hand
With a fear of death
Fuck it. Fuck the end
Who knows where it goes?
It's cold and dark and miserable
Let's look where I know
So fuck death, fuck life
And fuck an impending inevitability that everything and nothing means
Everything and nothing
I'd rather live than wait
I'd rather die than drain
The meaning of our every action in the eyes of something unknown
Is not a thought that plagues my brain
I'd rather be a sinner
Who rolls down in life's muck
And if a saintly glow smites me down
Seriously, who gives a fuck?
Thursday, 18 July 2013
The Unknown Half
'Quite astounding really, wouldn't you say?'
'Yes, quite. Much larger in person.'
'And louder.'
The pair laughed, clinking their tiny tea cups together. The tinkling of fine china was drowned under the screeching roar from behind the bars which they faced.
'Now now,' said the old woman, laughing. 'Manners. Tut, tut, tut.'
'They really should know better by now, wouldn't you think?'
'Quite. More tea, Curiosity?'
They smiled to each other through pursed lips. The woman nodded. 'Thank you.'
The cries grew louder now, shaking cries and woeful shouts, all overlapping each other in a harmony of despair.
The man stopped smiling. He withdrew a long metal stick from his cloak and smacked the bars fiercely. 'Silence!' The figures inside fell back into the shadows.
'Well, that's no good,' said Curiosity. 'No point having them if they are not visible. How will we know what they're doing?'
The man was flustered, his eyes bulging out of his thin face. 'Honestly, they spend their whole lives in front of the camera. You'd think they'd learn some decorum.'
'Well, we must remember that these creatures are not like you or I, my friend. Though I do wish you would tell me your name. We make a great pair you and I.'
The man shook his head. 'It is unknown.'
Curiosity looked disappointed for a moment, but then breathed it out, raising her head to the bars. 'Do you think one day the cage will break?'
The man chortled quietly. He leaned over and kissed the elderly woman softly on her wrinkled cheek. 'Not if you or I remain together, my dear. As you say, we make quite the pair.'
'Yes, quite. Much larger in person.'
'And louder.'
The pair laughed, clinking their tiny tea cups together. The tinkling of fine china was drowned under the screeching roar from behind the bars which they faced.
'Now now,' said the old woman, laughing. 'Manners. Tut, tut, tut.'
'They really should know better by now, wouldn't you think?'
'Quite. More tea, Curiosity?'
They smiled to each other through pursed lips. The woman nodded. 'Thank you.'
The cries grew louder now, shaking cries and woeful shouts, all overlapping each other in a harmony of despair.
The man stopped smiling. He withdrew a long metal stick from his cloak and smacked the bars fiercely. 'Silence!' The figures inside fell back into the shadows.
'Well, that's no good,' said Curiosity. 'No point having them if they are not visible. How will we know what they're doing?'
The man was flustered, his eyes bulging out of his thin face. 'Honestly, they spend their whole lives in front of the camera. You'd think they'd learn some decorum.'
'Well, we must remember that these creatures are not like you or I, my friend. Though I do wish you would tell me your name. We make a great pair you and I.'
The man shook his head. 'It is unknown.'
Curiosity looked disappointed for a moment, but then breathed it out, raising her head to the bars. 'Do you think one day the cage will break?'
The man chortled quietly. He leaned over and kissed the elderly woman softly on her wrinkled cheek. 'Not if you or I remain together, my dear. As you say, we make quite the pair.'
Friday, 28 June 2013
In celebration of America's move in the right direction, some quotes on equality
"Women's rights is not
only an abstraction, a cause; it is also a personal affair. It is not only
about us; it is also about me and you. Just the two of us." – Toni Morrison
"Here are the values that
I stand for: honesty, equality, kindness, compassion, treating people the way
you want to be treated and helping those in need. To me, those are traditional
values." – Ellen DeGeneres
"I'm not going to give up
campaigning for equality until I get equality." – Louis de Bernieres
“I do not think, sir, you
have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you
have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on
the use you have made of your time and experience.” - Jane
Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
“Equality is not a concept.
It's not something we should be striving for. It's a necessity. Equality is
like gravity. We need it to stand on this earth” – Joss Whedon
“If you prick us, do we not
bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and
if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” – The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare
“Love is love” –
Britney Spears
Sunday, 23 June 2013
The Field Over the Road
The sun fell down upon him in heavy thuds, like a rain of stones. He held a flattened hand over his brow, futilely attempting to protect himself from the heat. Removing his jacket and swinging it over his shoulder, he let out a shaky but calming sigh.
The building behind him rose from the ground like a grave. He dared not turn back to see it. He'd had enough of hospitals now. Instead, he watched the field on the other side of the road. A young couple lay together on an old picnic blanket, the girl clutching her lover's forearm and nuzzling her face in his chest. Their smiles were brighter than the sunlight.
It was then that he remembered the doctor's words; her damning statistics, and he laughed quietly. A small boy ran squealing down the field towards the screeching road; his mother jogging after him shouting for him to stop. She grabbed his arm and pointed a finger to his face, no doubt warning him of the dangers that life can bring.
But there were no dangers now. No threats or warnings. There were no dark, mysterious possibilities of death.
A weight had been lifted. He was lighter than air. Empty.
The lovers laughed, for they were full of life.
The building behind him rose from the ground like a grave. He dared not turn back to see it. He'd had enough of hospitals now. Instead, he watched the field on the other side of the road. A young couple lay together on an old picnic blanket, the girl clutching her lover's forearm and nuzzling her face in his chest. Their smiles were brighter than the sunlight.
It was then that he remembered the doctor's words; her damning statistics, and he laughed quietly. A small boy ran squealing down the field towards the screeching road; his mother jogging after him shouting for him to stop. She grabbed his arm and pointed a finger to his face, no doubt warning him of the dangers that life can bring.
But there were no dangers now. No threats or warnings. There were no dark, mysterious possibilities of death.
A weight had been lifted. He was lighter than air. Empty.
The lovers laughed, for they were full of life.
Wide Eyed
The moment the sun rises
We rip off our disguises
And what we realize is something utterly unexpected
When the eyes finally open
And words are not spoken
You'll see you are not broken but infected
It will take time
To open eyes
To the notion of other lives
We rip off our disguises
And what we realize is something utterly unexpected
When the eyes finally open
And words are not spoken
You'll see you are not broken but infected
It will take time
To open eyes
To the notion of other lives
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)