The age of 'right' -right?

When the internet first started to really connect the whole world, some of us -me included -thought that this would be the great 'coming together' of humankind. I thought that from this easily accessible international 'link-up' there would flow more understanding, solidarity and hope. Now, all these years later (not that many), those hopes seem more and more naive.
  When we post stuff on sites(twitter and FB for example), do we ever ask ourselves why? Why is it so important for us to air and vent our gut instincts and knee jerk reactions to events and news items? Most of it is just a emotional reaction to things, I call them 'first instinct' reactions, with that I mean it's mostly what we think ,before we have all the facts or background. We read a headline and immediately we form an opinion, mostly before reading up on the details, because we want to be first with a point of view, the online forums are about speed, about being the first with an opinion about news item 'X' .
So we rant and we rage, unhindered by lack of knowledge or expert opinion, back in the day when news was a bit less speed and a bit more balanced, we used to weigh up the alternative points of view, and check them with our experiences and thoughts on the subject before we took a stand. Back then our thoughts on the subjects were only vented when in family circles or with friends or colleagues, that was 'live' so we had to be informed to counter any "ifs" or "buts" thrown up by 'live' people around us. But now in this 'social network' reality we live in, we don't really need argument, we just post our knee jerk reactions, there isn't the need to defend them with facts, because there is no debate, it's just us -basically talking to ourselves in a world wide forum. Anybody with a counter point of view is easily 'blocked' and we end up with just (unknown) friends that agree with our emotional rants. So we get almost no negative feed back, we can exclude ourselves from different points of view. Self criticism goes out the window, and we harden in our (hardly) thought out opinions.
When was the last time you changed your point of view after listening to rational argument? When was the last time you took the time to get and check all the facts before forming an opinion? I noticed this gradual change in myself, there is so much going on -non stop - on line that we don't give ourselves the time anymore for self criticism.
So, it's time to slow down, and also to admit that I (we) sometimes just have no opinions on things that are beyond our control anyway. What I do know is that with more and more so called information on-line it's getting more and more difficult to see the difference between truth and lies,  between fact and fiction and real knowledge and 'made up science'.
We seem to be living in an age where 'everybody's point of view is equal' well here's the news ….. it's not. We are not all experts, we can have ways of looking at things, but not all thoughts on the subject matter at hand are equal, that's why some people are called experts.
So you might see my posts and tweets slowing down. When I want to react to something I will try to get some real information first, I will read up on the subject check my knee jerk reaction with reality before being a dick on line. Although by the time I've reached a balanced opinion,it will obviously be few days later, and the 'post' or 'tweet' will be no longer relevant, the shelf life for reactions is about 2 days after that it's old hat and we move on to the next topic or news item.
But it is a good exercise, just to stop and think sometimes about why you want to post about something, why you feel the need to vent  these opinions? and maybe think about the content.
Why waste valuable 'life time' on stuff you don't know enough about, when you could be outside, in the real world.

The Future is Bright…….

Well, I for one didn't see that Trump victory coming. To be honest I felt sorry for the U.S. citizens having to choose between the two candidates on offer -ok, I know there were independent  candidates but in the US they don't have a chance. As someone said on Twitter 'in 8 years we've gone from hope, to a president that was endorsed by the KKK'.
It seems to me that we are witnessing a worldwide distrust of politics, (that we then go on to give our trust to corrupt business leaders is another question) the political establishment has lost all of it's credibility. The sentiment of the people that voted Trump is in some ways also that of people who supported Bernie Sanders, or in the UK Jeremy Corbyn and even the Brexit voters. It seems a contradiction but it's really not. A lot of people are feeling disenfranchised by the political elite and turn to other alternatives, I guess a lot of Trump voters saw their vote being a vote against 'politics as usual'.
It is an understandable sentiment but is also dangerous.
In most countries politicians are the slaves to big business , so it is ironic that in the U.S. a representative of 'wild capitalism' has been elected president when it's big business that got us in this universal economic mess in the first place.
We have to wait and see if Trumps bite is as bad as his bark, but it's not looking good for progressive forces in the U.S. But there again, I ask myself what progress the world would have made with Hillary Clinton as president? We will never know. One thing is certain, with this rise of populism world wide, a lot of European leaders will be dreading the following elections in their own countries -starting in France and Germany. Exciting times, and to be honest (and speaking as a comedian)……the future is bright with Trump although the 'brightness' might be caused by global warming.

Illusion

It's the first of November and we all know what that means, we are now entering the 'dark months' . Months of grey miserable skies and not much daylight to compensate. I always find Autumn and Winter a time for contemplation, a time to look in the mirror and take stock. Spring and summer are the times to be playful, zestful and even maybe irresponsible. But Autumn and Winter bring out the amateur philosopher in me. So please excuse me while I indulge.
In these days of 'social' networks and twitter fame, a lot of people (me included) get drawn into the constant stream of bickering, adulation, shit throwing and narcissism these networks offer. We count 'likes' 'retweets' and 'followers' like it actually means anything, as if  it will make us happier or more contented -spoiler alert, it doesn't. If anything, it makes us more resentful toward those with a different argument, more success better photos etc etc etc. It's as if we are now all screaming to be heard, we ignore the people around us and use our time to impress people we will never see, meet or have any sort of relationship with, we now have the (illusional) power of creating a new 'us', we can play 'pretend' on line in real time. Try to show people the 'real ' us, who we would like to be, we learn how to pose for photos that will show how hip and trendy we are, what a great cook we are, what great parents we are, how fantastic our children are, how fantastic our life is , and so it goes on and on and on. We sacrifice the real enjoyment of life as it is, for what we want others to think it is.
We forget to enjoy the moment we are actually in because we have to pose for photos or post statements on what we are doing ,so as to impress others, others we don't even know.
The way we are becoming seems to be a shift in our evolution, I'm curious where it will lead us, but I won't live long enough to see the real change. future generations will have only known this as being reality.
I ,along with most of us on this planet ,have no power over how we act and react to things, I can tweet,post, and comment as much as I want on-line but it won't change the outcome of the problems we as a species are facing. What I can do, is be aware and live in the real world I live in, be critical and honest to myself about myself, be aware of the real people around me, not the ones that only exist in the 'on-line' world. Change what can be changed, take responsibility for personal failings or situations and live life.
The 'allotted' time we have on this planet is short, when looking back. One day we will all just be memories, photos, or gravestones. We should be aware, every day of the clock ticking away the seconds toward our end.
Today is the 1st of November, all saints day in the Catholic calendar , a day when a lot of people visit their deceased relatives, or friends, put flowers on graves, walk through fallen leaves in the graveyards and where not one headstone gathers likes or followers.

You are free to do as we tell you.

There is an agreement in Belgium to sign the CETA deal with Canada, we can all go back to sleep now, the power of global economics has beaten local worries and questions about sovereignty yet again. The whole debate made it clear to me that 'europe' is not and can not -ever- be for the people it claims to represent. We call it the E.U. 'European Union' we used to call it the EEC, which was a little bit more honest, because that included the extra 'E' for economic. It's all about trade and economy and that takes first place above local and cultural concerns, or working practices.
Multinationals rule the world, for them it's easy , more and more produce is being concentrated in less and less hands, hands that don't have to reckon with 'democratic' elections -all the CEO's and corporate magnates have to do is make sure the shareholders keep increasing their dividends and they are in the clear. Politicians have to get elected every few years so they have to -at least have to pretend to be representing the people that elect them. That is a difficult job.

Multinationals and global concerns have one goal -profit- end of story. OK they might -here and there- give in to local or international concerns about ecology or human rights , working conditions etc, but only if that still leaves enough room for building profit -otherwise they are off to other places with their investments and production.

Poor old politicians have to placate local communities and suck corporate dick at the same time to attract these 'wealth makers' to their area for jobs, it's an equation that is bound to fail and lead to less and less democratic demands on the multinational concerns so as not to scare them away.

All this bullshit comes from the fact that 'money' and the ability to 'produce' -is concentrated in too few hands with too narrow interests, and regional politics has surrendered a lot of it's powers to global companies. We are all prisoner in this system ,and nobody knows how to get us out of it.

As a comedian it's fun to watch politics, once you realize how the relationship politics and world economy is like trying to get a round pin in a square hole.

The defiance from the Walloon regional government against the CETA arrangement might have been principled, I hope it was- but why don't we see such principled defiance in other agreements, like for instance weapons to Saudi Arabia, it's probably coincidence that FN -the biggest weapon producer in Belgium is in the Walloon region , coincidence I tell you! stop smiling.

Also the role of the E.U. toward member states is hilarious , "every member state has the right to vote against agreements as long as they ratify it when we tell them too". It's like 'you are free to do as we tell you'
as Bill Hicks once described 'democracy' as we know it.

All good fun, more people should get interested in politics, but there again that might start putting us comedians out of work.

War on want.

This morning I spent an hour in the cafetaria of our local hospital, to be honest it’s more like a bar. I was at the hospital after giving a friend a lift (he was in for a check-up - finger up the bum- man stuff). 

The cafe at the hospital is typical Belgian, a guy in dressing gown a few tables down - obviously an inmate - ordered a dark brown Belgian special monks beer -it was 10:00 am. With the beer came the little bowl of nuts which had probably been given to a few customers before him, nuts that had been fondled and touched by all sorts of disease ridden patients I fantasized. 

You’d think that a hospital café/bar would only serve healthy snacks and drinks, but it was quite the opposite, cakes with lush cream toppings, beer, toasted sandwiches with artery clogging cheese fillings, all on sale. It’s as if the hospital had created the perfect business model - curing people while creating the next generation of patients/customers. 

It’s the times we live in, every open space needs to be filled with shops and coffee bars where we can spend the few coins that remain in our possession after paying for the necessities of survival. Airports ,Hospitals and shopping malls all filled with retail outlets of clothes we don’t need and food that poisons us. We’re hooked, addicted, constantly being ‘byte-blinded’ by billboards, on line ads and unwanted spam telling us of the products we need and must have to be part of the herd. 

I remember a time that we only went shopping when we needed something, now a shopping trip is a cultural pass time, look at any shopping mall, hundreds of semi conscious credit card junkies slouching from one store to the other looking for the next shiny thing that will ‘still the need’ until the next time. Clothes that will soon become ‘so last year’, electronics that will need updating by the time you get home and by next year will be obsolete and incompatible with your other gadgets. 

We are hooked, addicts, there is no escaping. Consumerism is a drug like any other, and like all drugs it starts innocently but can easily lead to heavier stuff. It starts with a credit card and ends with the banks repossession of your home. But you never hear of a ‘war on consumerism’, like we always hear of the ‘war on drugs’ . Even though the same can be said for both - and if anything consumerism is worse. Both can destroy lives and livelihoods , but consumerism is also destroying the planet, but that’s not our problem as we heave our shopping bags full of child labor into our car. 

Outside the hospital somebody was making a collection for WWF or some other NGO, I admire the few of us that still believe we can ‘save the world’ , but it’s not ‘the world’ that needs to be saved, it’s us that need to be reigned in. The world is a perfect balance, it can look after itself. It’s us that is the problem, we are the only living things on this planet that have the power to destroy it - totally. We are from nature but not necessarily part of it anymore. 

Leaving the Hospital I remembered a line from one of my favourite comedians -Bill hicks - he said of humans ‘we’re a virus with shoes’ , that is spot-on and a very ironic thing to think , outside the hospital doors.

Presidential election - November 8th.

Independant

what’s real? 

what’s true? 

Who’s who? 

Who’s you? 

Used to trust a smile used to trust a friend ,

but now it seems just a means to an end.

Living the dream, being a theme

now just a part of someone elses scheme.

Need to stay free, not be theirs ,just be me.

Talking my talk not thinking of a fee. 

In the end what’s real what’s true? 

The only thing that matters is what makes me me,and not you. 

Business Class

He's a grey suited mouse that travels Business Class,
His boss pays the tickets, his boss owns his ass.

Wears the clothes of the herd, grey suits the normality,
Being conform is his reality.

Meeting to meeting, plan to plan,
Believing he's 'made it' serving the man.

Then boredom becoming he envies the free,
But credit card debts mean he cannot flee.

His wife needs more money she's bought a new cup,
even more plastic to fill his void up.

Sugar and Spice and all things nice.

I spent last weekend in the UK , a city trip, a luxury , two and a half days of walking the streets of my favourite districts of London. As always my partner and I stayed at a Hotel in Shepherds bush, easy access to the Central line of the underground and walking distance to the hip and trendy shops, boutiques and coffee bars of Portobello Road. Not that we buy a lot, it’s just fun to see what the ‘trends’ are in the selling of shit we don’t need.

How many different ways can you sell coffee for example? now it seems with pumpkin flavour- ffs! who thinks all this commercial bullshit up? 

How many Banksy rip-off postcards and wall art can you put up in your home,office or den?  

Whether you buy the shit you don’t need in Notting Hill or in ‘street wise’ Camden, it’s still just part of a global lifestyle market, the stalls, shops and traders all selling stuff made in some child sweatshop. 

The biggest ‘shit you don’t need’ market segment is -of course- food. Food is everywhere, trendy and hip ‘Cafés’ with retro furniture selling overpriced ‘new food’ which usually is blended bullshit. Then there are the small stores selling more food, the expensive restaurants, the ‘food traders’ on the markets selling stuff that is so indefinable that they just give it an oriental sounding name . Food food food, everywhere you go. Once we were hunters, we went days tracking down mammoths and any other edible animal, so when we finally killed a few we just ate and ate because we never knew when we might find food again. This evolutionary programming is becoming our downfall, with all this food everywhere all day and all night we just eat ,sometimes out of boredom ,sometimes because we are ‘peckish’ but never (in the west) because we are hungry, we don’t even know or remember what real hunger is. 

From being a necessary element of survival, food has become a ‘commodity’ profitable and a very marketable consumergood. Food glorious food. 

You can’t get away from it, commercials on TV ,hell the most TV programmes are about food, how to cook it, eat it,where to eat it in fact I’m surprised nobody has made a programme about how to shit it out. 

The results of this food fundementalism is also to be seen everywhere, like the guy sat near to us in a snackbar, he probably weighed in at 200 + kilos, he had tits the size of Kim Kardashians ass. His breathing was troublesome (read; Darth Vader) his ass was visible because the elastic in his sweatpants had just given up the fight, it took the guy about 10 minutes to get into position to be able to get up, it took another ten to get to the door, outside he leant against the wall to catch his breath. I imagine he’ll die lonely somewhere in a bedsit when his heart realises it’s the only way out. 

In the west we are slowly but surely eating ourselves to death, obesity is a bigger threat to us than ISIS, we should be putting armed soldiers in front of restaurants with scales to weigh the people going in. 

A lot has been said and written over ‘body shaming’ ,the PC brigade -and fat people - don’t want us to use the word ‘fat’ anymore to describe someone who’s ....well, fat. We should call a spade a spade, if someone is fat they’re fat, end of, for whatever reason. If the reason is overeating, calling them fat might be the wake up call that sends them on a diet and saves their life. 

Getting home from the UK it was interesting to watch the BBC news, the main item wasn’t Syria, Trump/Clinton , ISIS , Refugees, or the economy, none of all that trivia, it was in fact the news that the television programme ‘The Great British Bake Off’ a programme about baking cakes, wouldn’t be on the BBC next year but on a commercial station Channel 4. 

You don't always get what you want,but maybe what you deserve.

Calling ‘Ms’ Clinton a feminist is like saying Michael Jackson was black; If she’s such a feminist why would she get her cheating husband in at the convention to endorse her candidacy. Shouldn’t she have spoken out against men that cheat on their women? While Bill was in the oral office getting his dick polished, where was her feminist rage? 

She uses all the glass ceiling and feminist bullshit to get votes, and it’ll probably work. Have black lives ‘mattered’ more now that Obama has been president? if they have then it hasn’t trickled down to the police yet. 

‘Ms’ Clinton is an establishment figure, a corrupt politician, an acceptable candidate for the establishment, Bernie Sanders was a threat to their supremacy that’s why he didn’t get the running mate status he deserved, there again this is the States, he’s lucky not to have been shot with all his ravings about a ‘fair society’ Bernie is a communist as far as rednecks are concerned, so he got off easy. 

Thus it’ll all come down to an election contest betwen a corrupt establishment politician and a ego maniac psychopathic bussinessman, way to go America! 

Some people say that the choice of candidates is dissapointing in the ‘land of the free’, but there again maybe Hillary and Donald are the perfect reflection of American society. 

The unsociable ape.

It’s not a case of being uninspired,it’s just that I have nothing more to say. Nothing, I don’t know how to solve muslim terror, just as I do not know how to stop corporate greed from making the planet unihabitable. I just do not have the answers to anything, and why should I ? I don’t run for any political office, I try to get likes on my facebook and twitter accounts that’s all, and to get likes you don’t need answers you just need random comments, knowledge of the given subject isn't necessary, and the less politically correct the better. 

I should stay away from social media, it makes me unsociable, but I can’t. I tell myself it’s part of my job, to be ‘out there’ and ‘in the mix’, but it’s not - I’m a comedian and it’s that what I am known for, not for my political stance or solutions -those I do not have. 

That’s why I write this blog, silly as it is, it’s just one more way of being ‘out there’ and ‘in the mix’ being part of the modern world and showing that I have something to say. Yeah baby. 

On holiday, in a remote part of Wales and walking 4 or 5 hours a day in the untouched beauty of nature puts all the ranting and raving on social media in the insanity bin where it belongs. Just to think that it goes on all day and night millions and millions of people, ranting and raving on line. Politics, menus, holiday photos, pictures of their cats-children and self, jokes,comments and news that is total nonsense to anybody but themselves, millions and millions of people screaming for attention. Just the thought that it is neverending and constant, a tickertape of where our evolution has taken us, it’s mindblowing and sad at the same time. 

We all seem to have become internet crack whores, addicted to being on line, we want to share our experiences with everyone as soon as we experience them, in fact we have no time to get the full experience bacause we are busy sharing it with others who are also sharing theirs, we’re not interested in theirs , they aren’t interested in ours but we share, it’s like a cry of “I might be on holiday, or out of town at the moment but I’m still alive, please don’t forget me”. This we send to people we don’t know or have never met. 

Sooner or later this will have an evolutionary effect on us, we will become a new sort of homo sapien, what? let’s wait and see - I’ll just stick to the old version,I don’t need an update. So remember when you read my posts, it’s just random thoughts, I have no solutions or answers all I have is a laptop and a connection and some hours to kill. 

I think, anyway.

 I sit here every morning and write three pages of ‘thought flow’ before breakfast, or coffee or even before any talk with my partner, it’s what I call ‘clearing the head’ . This is not that by the way, what I write in the mornings is strictly personal and will never be seen by anyone other than myself, it’s a privacy pact I have with myself,  knowing that it will never be read by anyone else makes it easier to be totally honest with the thoughts that rush through my brain. 

We humans, poor us, we have the ability to think, to form opinions and random thoughts, to be able to be abstract in our mind - it’s the base of our creativity , also the source of our turmoil and pain. 

I sit here in my little room that I pompously call ‘my office’ and stare out the window, every now and then my eye is caught by somebody walking , driving or cycling by. To me they are just people, others, unknown - they each have their own stories to tell. Our experience is always only our experience, we never really know what goes on around us, even when others tell us about their pain or joy, failures or successes we can only imagine how they must feel, we can only relate in terms of similar things that have happened to us on this journey called life. 

We empathize, and mean it, but we can never know the real turmoil behind the mask called face of the other. 

When watching other people go by I often wonder what they think at that moment. Millions upon millions of thoughts going on all around us and we know nothing about them. If we did it would maybe explain that one person who was rude to us at the bus stop. It might make us realize that the guy who was aggressive in traffic earlier, wasn’t so much aggressive as panicked by a situation at home. 

We can’t know what goes on in other peoples minds, that’s good, it keeps life surprising, though bewildering, it leaves us lonely with our thoughts- not knowing if we are alone in thinking what we think. People can agree with us, but do they? or do they agree with what they think we are saying, do they just agree with their own interpretation of what we say we are thinking. All interesting stuff. 

In the end we are alone, and that’s how we die, after which we become somebody else’s interpretation of who and what we really were. 

Grampy Williams

I only ever got to know one of my Grandparents, 'Grampy Williams' my fathers father, he lived on his 'small holding' with Aunty Peggy and Uncle Frank. I don't know how he got the small farm, must of been an inheritance, because Grampy Williams couldn't have worked for it, with his two 'clubbed feet'. He was well known and well liked in Oldbury on Severn, he used to be the local postman, when I arrived on the scene he had already been retired for some time.
Grampy Williams occupied one bedroom and the main living room downstairs, Peggy,Frank and the occasional guest -me for instance- shared the rest.
In the summer if it wasn't raining Grampy would sit outside watching us work in his garden always with his dog by his side, he never spoke a lot, just watched us working.
Grampy, never clean shaven, always wearing his flat cap and waistcoat, he smoked a pipe and would now and then inhale snuff, his snuff box always in the pocket of his waistcoat, stained from the brown powder.
In the winter Grampy stayed mostly in his living room ,seat pulled up near the log fire, it's there that he taught me to play crib and dominos I was his partner playing most Sunday afternoons, Aunty Peggy would sometimes join us (with cake and tea- of course),Frank never would, Sundays were his hangover days. 
Grampy Williams had a soft spot for me, he never said it but I knew, he was the only member of my family to show any interest when I passed my 11 plus exam- a feat that gave me entrance to grammar school. I remember him saying "Well, at least one of you buggers has brains" which coming from him was more or less a 'congratulations', he winked and gave me Ten Shillings -a lot of money then.
Grampy ate porridge every morning without fail, he liked it boiled on the stove with water, then drowned in evaporated milk and a layer of sugar over the top. Aunty Peggy taught me how to make it, and to her surprise Grampy let me make it for him. 
I used to long for bad weather on Sundays so I could sit inside with him, he would silently listen to world news on his radio, now and again he would spit in the fire, his way of voicing an opinion I guess. We would sometimes listen to the radio ,'Billy Cottons Bandshow', 'Around the Horn' and my favourite 'The Goon Show' it was hilarious although it never made Grampy laugh, but it stopped him spitting in the fire for a while. 
His dog -I forget its name -was ever present beside his chair, it was a sheep dog that had been impossible to train as a sheep dog according to the farmer he bought it from and it should have been shot, but Grampy bought him and saved its life. Grampy also taught the dog to go to the pub off licence in the village and get his tobacco, the dog wore a pouch around its neck with Grampys money and a note for theLandlord, it would scratch at the off licence door until the landlord opened it . 
Grampy loved to bet on the horses, but never on the greyhounds, as he said "never bet on the dogs, they can't be trusted". 
One Friday evening I arrived for the weekend, and Grampy didn't want to see me, Aunty Peggy told me that the dog had been killed, "some stupid bugger in a car run it over and left it to die". The next day it was me walking into the village for the tobacco.
The weeks that followed saw Grampy change, even more silent than before, and he looked ill. Sometimes he would drink a glass or two of port, never the cider that was brewed on his property. Two glasses of port would get him melancholic, he would sing very quietly "if you ever go across the sea to Ireland" a song I can't hear now without thinking of him. 
A year or so after the dogs passing, Grampy devolped a form of cancer, he had an open wound around the temple area of his face, it got bigger by the day, it was as if he was slowly being eaten away. A nurse would come daily to dress the wound, I watched when I was there, it looked painful, but he never flinched, just stared out in front of him. Spitting in the fire when she finished. 
Sometimes he would be staring into the fire and I heard him say as if to himself "bloody stupid animal". 
When I asked him about the wound on his face, he would wink and say "it's a painful bugger that one is" that's as close as he got to complaining. 
I remember coming home from school one day when I was about 14, Terry my sister Maureens husband, was at our house which was unusual on a week day. Dad was very quiet and mum was trying to act sober. Terry told me that Grampy had died, I cried for two solid days. From then on the trips to help Aunty Peggy and Uncle Frank stopped too, my escape route from our house to the sanity of the countryside was lost, I wanted so badly to be there at the weekend to get away from the overcrowded house, the drunken arguments my mum would have with my dad, and the endless streets of our council estate. 
For a few brief years when I was a "whipper snapper" (grampys words) Grampy Williams taught me that silence sometimes says more than a thousand words, through him I learnt to enjoy quiet times. I never once heard him complain about his lot- his handicap ,the loss of his wife or the cancer and his approaching end. 
I think Grampy Williams was the closest I have ever been to anybody in my family , and the nearest I have ever been to a 'real man'.
Here's to you Grampy! you old bugger, and just to finish your song,  once I actually 'went across the sea to Ireland' and I 'watched the sun go down in Galway Bay', you were with me in my thoughts. 

Frank and Peggy.

I'm always amazed when I hear people recalling their youth, in detail. I wonder how much is fact and how much is optimistic fiction. I try sometimes really hard to envisage how it was back then, before about age sixteen when everything seems just a blur, some moments stand out, but there are never any real details, just fleeting visions,my mind as it is now, interpreting the few memories I still have.
Sometimes the memory gets jogged, it can be a certain smell, a song, a random moment when I get thrown back to some distant past .
So it was this afternoon,I was gardening, a pastime I really love, even more so now in the age of constant deadlines and things not to miss, hypes, social media updates and two hundred mile an hour lifestyles. A garden, however small, is a retreat a place where we can regain some sense of being human, nature will not be rushed. So there I was, doing some weeding, a bit of trimming and replanting some plants that didn't seem 'happy' in the place I'd given them, it's not work but  therapy, there is no timetable or stopwatch saying when the work has to be done- I find it relaxing.
Out of nowhere I suddenly got some really clear memories of My Uncle Frank and his wife Aunty Peggy, both long gone, but a very important part of my young life. 
Aunty Peggy was my Fathers sister, one of his sisters, the other one being Aunty Freda, we hardly ever saw her, she had 'married money' and was living the other side of England in Leigh on Sea near Southend. Aunty Peggy and Uncle Frank lived in Oldbury -on Severn, near Thornbury, South Gloucester. They lived on the small farm that my Granddad had, my Fathers Father. It was paradise for me, Oldbury was a small village on the banks of the river Severn. Granddads place wasn't a real farm, but to me it was, I'd never seen his wife-my Grandmother- she'd died young. Aunty Peggy and Uncle Frank lived in with Granddad to take care of him, Granddad was well known and well liked in the village- for years he had been the postman there, delivering the mail on his bicycle rain ,snow or high water, even more remarkable because of his 'club feet' he could hardly walk  and needed two sticks,but he got around ok on his bicycle. On his 'small holding' granddad had a few hundred chickens, some geese , ducks, turkeys and an orchard where cider apples grew, and he had a huge garden. 
Keeping the place up and running was hard work, Uncle Frank had a daytime job in the local Power Station at Berkley, he was a cleaner, but would never admit it and always wore the safety boots that builders would wear. Uncle Frank was a brute, probably over compensating for the fact that he didn't get called up and enlisted in the army for the war, I seem to recall people saying it was because he had flat feet, but I can't confirm that.
Not being a war veteran and now being a cleaner, Frank had lost his pride and manhood and was determined to be 'the man of the house',  Aunty Peggy would cower in fear when he sat at the table for his evening meal, if he didn't like it he would shout abuse at her and use it as an excuse to storm off to the pub for a 'belly full of Cider', returning only long after Aunty Peggy was asleep.
I spent a lot of time between about age 8 and 14 at Granddads place, weekends and summer holidays. there were two reasons for me to be sent there, one was the fact that our house on the council estate in Patchway was too small for us all- there was a lot of us- more about that later, the second reason was that Aunty Peggy and Uncle Frank needed a helping hand looking after the garden, the orchards and the poultry, and everybody seemed to agree that "it would do Nigel good to learn what it was like to work for a living". Me? I loved it, getting away from the council estate was pure luxury, work or no work. When the work was done I could walk around the village, or go for long walks along the country lanes, I'd found an old Trilby hat of Granddads, so I used to wear that and always have a stick with me, walking around pretending I was a farmer, or a soldier guarding the village against an invisible enemy who were trying to take it over. Great times, I'd go fishing with the local farmers kids, catching eels. We used to hang around on the village green on the sunday afternoon when most of the grown ups were at one of the two local pubs. On the village green was a signpost it being a crossroads, people from nearby towns would slow their cars down to look at the sign for directions to the river Severn. By constantly pushing and pulling at the sign we had managed to loosen it, so we could turn it and send the cars the wrong way, a few times we had to run when irate drivers would return and chase us. Great times!
The work I had to do was sometimes backbreaking, I was usually on wheelbarrow duty , wheeling barrow loads of potatoes or apples to the store rooms, or cleaning up the chicken mess from the outhouse they were kept in. Sometimes I had to help catch and bag chickens, it meant locking ourselves in the outhouse with sacks, chasing the chickens and putting them in the sacks until we had the right amount the local butcher had ordered. Uncle Frank would then take the chickens one by one out of the sack, tie their legs up ,hang them on a sort of washing line and then one for one cut their throats and let them bleed to death, according to him this led to better meat. The chickens would flap around ,blood flying everywhere, when they were finally dead me and Aunty Peggy had to cut them down and pluck them. They tried to teach me how to gut them, but I wasn't up to it, they laughed at me because of it. 
The work in the garden was really hard at times, I remember how my back used to ache and that I was really thirsty, but the work had to be done before dark and uncle Frank was a slave driver. Sometimes he would sit in a chair at the side of the garden and tell me what to do, although he taught me a lot about gardening I used to hate him for it, a few times I had wished him dead. He would sit in his chair criticizing my work, while rolling a cigarette and drinking from his flagon of homemade cider, scrumpy as we call it. Aunty Peggy would stick up for me, but she wasn't allowed to help me, Frank said she was 'too soft' on me and that I had to be 'hardened up'. It was during those years at Oldbury that I learnt how to work and also how to hate, the way Frank treated Aunty Peggy was horrendous and I hated him for it, I sometimes took revenge by hiding his tobacco pouch or cigarette papers after he returned drunk from the pub. But I did learn how to work, and work on despite pain or humiliation. Later in life, a (few years ago now) it helped me get through my operations having prosthetic hip and knee, it helped me when I was working the conveyor belt in factories, it even helped me doing comedy, never (or hardly ever) canceling a gig due to illness or personal stress. Every time I have a weak moment there is Frank,in my minds eye, sitting on his chair in that garden, drinking ,smoking and telling me to 'put some back into it' and 'get on with it' and I would otherwise he would scowl and take it out on Aunty Peggy, and now as then I grin and bear it, whistle and laugh (which used to annoy him more) and pretend I was loving every minute of it. So here's to you Frank Olive, you drunken fart, cleaner and flat footed reject! Thanks for giving me that edge, thanks for giving me grit and stamina and a healthy loathing for Cider. 
I lost contact with Peggy and Frank when I stopped visiting after granddad died at age 92, I started work when I was 16, and never heard much more of them. When I was 18 I heard that Frank had died from 'liver problems' surprise sur-friggin' -prise. aunty Peggy I only ever saw a few times just before my Father died, I'd visit her when I returned to the UK to see my Dad, I'd go to her bungalow and there she was, same as ever, baking cakes and making tea, she was old, I offered to tidy up her garden for her, she said no, and gave me that look "you just sit down and have a cup of tea, you've done enough gardening" and she'd wink. Here's to you too Aunty Peggy, stalwart, champion cake and tea maker, thanks for the sense of humor and the 'grin and bear it' spirit. 

Getting the 'likes'.

It has come to the stage that a politician can do (almost) whatever they want, whatever policy or decision that effects us and is detrimental to the planet and all our lives, as long as they post a photo on social media with them lovingly holding a kitten ,or eating the newest food trend, or saying how much they love Adele's new album they will probably be elected. 
Politics has become the (less) popular arm of the entertainment industry, and we watch and dope ourselves up on a constant stream of other shit that hits us on all sorts of media and 'smart-phone' 'content' and in the end we can't tell reality from fiction and good from bad, it just all becomes a tickertape of nonsense,useful only as a means to get some 'likes' or 'followers' or an emoticon posted on our page by someone calling themselves 'friend' when we haven't even met them.
Welcome to our little 'Brave New World' now take the pill and shut the f*** up!

The psychopaths career opportunity.

So within the next couple of weeks the UK will be run by a woman (again) no problem with that most politicians are all sexless zombies- dick or no dick, gender doesn't come into it, it's all about policies.
It's just been such a helter-skelter couple of weeks, it's a good job there was football on TV to keep us calm and sedated while this non-violent political coup was taking place. We get what we deserve, more people watch football than they do news or politics, so don't come running and crying when the shit starts flying around.
Europe is deteriorating fast, but it's summer. In the summer we get back to more or less normality, the essence of being human, enjoyment and laziness! and  we don't give a shit about what politicians are doing.We just want to get away, lie on a beach, go for walks, paint the kitchen, tidy up the garage, bbq ourselves to early death ,anything but be involved.
That's us ,that's humans, we pay politicians to take care of everything-  we take no  responsibility ,but the politicians better do the job right or we'll de-select them at the next election. Who would ever want to be a politician? - psychopaths that's who!
Just look at politicians, even the fresh faced ones, after one term in office they look like shit, or have to have work done to look presentable,but they are psychopaths, they are the type of people that just hunger for power, adoration and being important. We get mad leaders because nobody in their right mind would do the job.
Trying to sort the mess out that generation upon generation have created, are you kidding me??? Why do they lie to us? because if they told the truth they wouldn't get elected ,that's why. If a politician said "I might need some help here, the situation is really fucked people, I can't handle it, it's too complicated, you might all need to listen up and help solve the problem" would he/she/it be elected? no they wouldn't and why? because we are lazy, we are Sapiens- still longing just to be left alone with enough food ,sex and entertainment, lie under our tree and lick our balls.
So go ahead, blame politicians, I'll be first to do that, because they do screw up, but remember they are the only ones who want to do the job, and because of that we should know that they are not right in their mind. So don't be surprised, just think, "this psychopath is past it's sell by date, we should elect the next one, they're usually 'ok' for the first couple of years, we'll get another one"

Did I miss something?

Did I miss something? Ok, the weather has been bad, we're all feeling a bit sorry for ourselves because the sun isn't doing the dance that we want it to do, there's a huge deflated feeling about our football teams- here in Belgium and England- I get all that .
But what has just happened ?
In England politics has suddenly become the new reality soap, with behaviour that would make a banana republic blush, it seems like the 'in -out' referendum had not a lot to do with EU membership after all and has just been 'used' as an excuse to start a bar-brawl in all the mainstream political parties. It's like a husband-wife scrap in a bar and everybody else just starts joining in.
Scotland thought that the EU would welcome them with open arms but they forgot that the Spanish (and lesser) France has independence issues of their own to deal with in Basque areas and Catalonia, so Scotland gets support in the form of "oh hi there, welcome you know where the fridge is ,we're just off out" - like an unwelcome relative.
Boris Johnson is like the spoilt kid who has just upturned all the furniture, messed up the house and refuses to help get it back together. Nigel Farage is -well- Nigel Farage which is worse. David Cameron has left the building and nobody knows anymore who is dong what, who wants what and if anybody is interested in running the country, in a week time England has had a national mental breakdown and the local Chemist has run out of anti depressants.
In the Labour party, there is the real threat that the party will split, so there would be two inefficient parties claiming to support the 'masses' who in turn don't believe in either of them so it seems.
So as the saying goes 'it's all gone tits up', and summer is yet to begin.
I can't help but have the feeling that we are witnessing history- no I don't mean Wales's historic win against Belgium- it's like Europe has had it's chance, had it's day at the races, and now is teetering on the edge of slipping into disorder and chaos, and we -the people- are watching,like it's a final episode of a really tacky soap, if Angela Merkel addresses the EU and starts playing a fiddle -run!
But there again, it might be ok, but not today, 'cos it's raining.

  

Race of the races at the races.

The good thing about football is the way it shows us how shallow some political 'beliefs' are.
Take nationality for example, in a lot of European countries there is political friction about migrants - yet every european football team has at least one or two players that are children of -or first generation- migrants, they can kick a ball so they are the good ones.
I was watching a game I think it was Turkey against Czech Republic, one of Turkey's best players was a young 18 year old 'Turk' who was born and raised in Denmark, Dad was a Turk, Mum was Danish.
The lad spent his whole youth in Denmark, was football trained in Denmark, school in Denmark, but he plays for Turkey, no problem but where is the logic?
In the German national team ,one of their best players -is -so say- Turkish, his Mum and Dad are Turkish ,yet he plays for Germany.
All very interesting, and I love it, getting to choose which nationality you want to be should be extended even further, I'd like to be Swedish and very logical. If I were a footballer ,I'd play for England, or look into my DNA history and try to get a place in the Welsh team, or Irish, I'm sure there are some genes in there somewhere.
Racists must have difficult times when they support their national team.
Speaking of which- in Belgium, some Flemish nationalists (and I suppose Walloon Nationalists) will not watch the Belgian national team because they are seen as .... well Belgian and not Flemish. A Flemish person from African roots isn't a problem, it's just these pesky Walloons or Brusselsians(or whatever). Football is fast becoming the great bringer together of peoples.
So how does that work with hooligans? Russian hooligans will attack only white English hooligans ?

or do Hooligans recognise all colours and creeds as 'brothers' -brothers that should be kicked beaten and stabbed, but none the less Brothers.
Strange times we live in.
PS Give Ronaldo a British passport, he looks pretty 'Essex' to me.

shine!

That time of year. 

I’m writing this blog entry sitting outside in the garden, my favorite hideaway, a place -although small - that reminds me that we humans - we ‘sapi-apes’ -are just one small part of life on this planet.

The sun is shining and, at the beginning of the summer, that puts us off guard, the sun shines and we think ‘good times’! “lazy days and crazy nights” (unless you’re of my generation then you think “did I remember to get mosquito repellant?”).

The harder the sun shines, the less news and political showmanship interests us. Politicians posturing on television seems all too tiresome when you could be outside sipping your favorite cocktail.

The summer is also the time when my ‘core business’ -stand-up Comedy - takes a hit, people don’t need us to have fun, they have pools and drinks and music and friends, laughs are there for the taking, nobody needs a person with a microphone and sharp wit telling them what’s funny.

Still love it though! So bring on the summer. 

Rituals

Every day I get up and write three pages of whatever comes into my head, sound difficult? well it is, sometimes it’s gibberish sometimes it’s deep, sometimes it’s lists of stuff I have to do ,just whatever is on my mind. It helps, it clears my mind, it sets me up for the day, it’s relaxing and it’s addictive. I just write, I try to think as little as possible about what I’m writing I just try to let it all flow out. It’s like opening the windows and letting fresh air blow through the house. 

This may sound a waste of time for some people, but it works for me, I know it’s not for everyone but it’s my little ritual to kick off the day. 

We all have rituals, they’ve always been important to humans, religions were quick to pick up on this and incorporate them big time in their little clubs of ‘followers’, whether it be fasting, praying,meditating, pilgrimages, coming of age ceremonies ,they are all just rituals, giving people something to cling on to when life becomes a bit overwhelming, it’s just ritual and so long it isn’t used to enslave or endanger others, go for it, starve yourself, chastise yourself, get on your knees and speak to the invisible, do what ever it takes to get by- but just remember it should be a personal experience, a thing that helps you. If you’re just doing it because it’s ‘expected’ of you by communities or by others, then it’s probably not right. Find your own personal ritual and get to know yourself, it’s fun, and hey! you exist.

Passing the 'But' buck.

I feel sorry for 'But' often misused, a parachute for the hypocrites.
"I don't agree with Terrorists but…….."
"I'm not a racist but…….."
'But' is the buck of excuses being passed.
Poor But, but still, but otherwise is ok.

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The Caliphate, the Caliphate,
a disneyland of blood and hate.

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'Ex Pats' - Transgender Irish?

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If god exists he/she is sleeping on the job.

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The world definitely needs a pause button, let's take 5 and chill out, we've started taking ourselves too serious.

Passing The Time.

I went to a funeral yesterday, my neighbors mother , I'd never met her or even seen her but as a mark of solidarity in grief and support for my neighbor ,I went.
A funeral is always a moment to reflect, it made me think of my own funeral whenever that will take place, I wonder how many people will be there, how many will have fond memories and how many will be there out of sympathy for the family? Not that it will influence me, I'll be dead.
Death, the only thing that money,influence and importance cannot change- we all die, some of us can delay it, but in the end it happens to all of us, as someone once put it 'Death is the great equalizer'.

So if it is going to happen to us all it's pointless dwelling on it, it'll be there fast enough, when? we don't know, so let's just carry on with life and try as hard as we can to enjoy these precious moments before death, life.

We don't ask to be born, but it happens, then we are who we are, where we are, we are given an allotted place and an allotted time, neither of which are within our power. We are created ,if we are lucky, we are given support and an education and then we have to pass the time until our own death.
That 'passing the time' is what real life is about, I'm one of the lucky ones, I was created in a wealthy part of the world, I have more freedoms than most others on this planet could only dream of. So here we are, and we have to pass the time we have been given. We work, we play, we entertain, we love, we hate, we take our turn to create, we get older (if we're lucky) and we 'get on', each in our own way.

The end comes, how that feels ? we don't really know,the dead have a secret and they don't share it with the living so we don't really know what 'the end' feels like, all we can hope is that when it comes it's quick and painless.
Meanwhile we live, we are the living, we should not waste time, it's all we really have. So thanks for reading this, it probably took you about 3-4 minutes, time you will never get back, hopefully you don't regret your decision, after all it's your time and you do with it what you will.

Quiet Time.

Seeing as I’m on stage a few times per week it may sound strange that I would consider myself an introvert, and yet that is how I would describe myself.

I have never felt at ease in a group, even when I played football I never felt ‘part’ of the team. In a group of people I have always felt as if I was on the outside looking in never knowing how to act or what to say, and usually over compensating and being a complete idiot or bore. 

Now I have resigned myself to my ‘introvert me’ and I must say it feels good. This doesn’t mean I’m a ‘loner’ or not up for meeting or working with others, it just means that I enjoy wholeheartedly the time I spend on my own and don’t feel bad about it. I try to avoid situations where I’ll we with large groups of people (except at football matches, but there is no ‘small talk’ in a buzzing stadium).

There will always be (of course) the feeling of not fitting in, seeing as we live in a more and more extrovert society, where everybody is judged on their ability to work as a team, to be a ‘people person’ and to be very outgoing and outspoken. 

Being an introvert I get loads of ‘me time’ also known to me as ‘quiet time’ , time on my own where I get to think things through, contemplate my ideas, read, write, work in the garden or just laying around daydreaming. I still post stuff on the so called ‘social network sites’ because as a performer I guess that is what is expected of me, but I don’t let it take control.

I often wonder how people formulate ideas and find rest and peace in their minds in this world where we are always switched on, on line, connected and hardly ever alone with our thoughts. It seems to me that more and more opinions are formed with less and less information. In the quest to be the first on-line with a critical voice or a funny comment on any news item we often just go by the headlines and forget to read the details.

Is this the spark that lights the ‘burn-outs‘ ? The physical and mental exhaustion that comes with always being switched on, even when we are relaxing we are constantly letting everybody know through our on-line postings and tweets that we are relaxing and taking it easy, even if that does mean getting nervous because there is no internet or wi-fi connection where we are ‘relaxing’. The internet has not so much become an addiction but more a dictator, it’s as if we fear what might happen if we stop posting photos, experiences, opinions or the way we feel. In that way internet and social media have become the ‘big brother’ television screens at everyones home in the book and film 1984 (G.Orwell) . 

Anyway, being an introvert I’ll be spared the burn-outs, and the urge to always be on-line, which doesn’t mean I won’t use the internet of course I will ,but I will use it as just one more entertainment source and a way to promote whatever it is I’m doing on the stand-up scene. 

Further I’ll be enjoying my own company without guilt, the ‘quiet time’ .

Write! Right?

So I'd better not mention Erdogans name on this blog or it might spoil my holiday in Turkey.
Erdogan is the embodiment of political leaders we thought were long gone, ok Putin comes pretty close, and the Korean with the funny haircut is a blast but Erdogan is dangerous, why? because the leaders here in the west are sucking his dick and bending over for him because they want him to help with the refugees and the conflict in Syria.
Suddenly I'm really glad to be living in 'the west', not because of our politics and our international meddling and fucking up of other countries, but simply for the fact that I can insult and swear at any leader I want without having to fear death or imprisonment. Ok some local lord mayor or politician might -back stabbingly- try to get a show cancelled in a village hall ,but that's it, nobody dies.

So better choose another holiday destination then.
Allies, that's a funny name for the musical chairs I've witnessed in my life, but that's what it is, todays allies can be tomorrows enemies and it has all nothing to do with human rights, being nice or 'jolly good people' it's all just to do with geo-politics and that's another name for "what's in our best (economic) interests?". The hypocrisy is so blatant I don't even have to explain it.
Israel shooting Palestinians like rabbits is not such a problem for us as a Palestinian stabbing and killing even one Israeli, not saying I excuse the Palestinian terrorist, but just look at the 'scoresheet' and you'll see what I mean. It's probably the fact that we trust Jews more than Moslims, that's a Seventy year change around of perspective there for ya.


Who would have thought 70 years ago that Germany would be political leaders in europe? and even more so protectors of migrants and refugees, wow! change happens. It just goes to show, that nothing ,but nothing in international politics is written in stone, who knows, maybe within the next 70 years the Taliban will be sitting on the U.N. committee of human rights (Saudi Arabia does now so hey!) and maybe IS will be organising the olympic games, who knows- as long as the rich and the powerful on this rock in the universe get to earn a buck more- who knows who they'll tell us are the good guys.

'Cos that's what happens right? they tell us through (their) media outlets who the good and the bad are, and mainly we follow their lead. That's what media and propaganda is all about, I think it was Ho Chi Minh who said "propaganda is like throwing shit at a wall, do it enough and some of it will stick". That's why you hear politicians repeating the same shit on TV because that want that shit to stick. And hey it does, how else can we explain the fact that we continually vote and elect the dickheads that rip us off, we vote for them even when we know they will rip us off, politics is the biggest con trick ever, run by psychopaths for psychopaths and we -the sheeple- are too tired and too busy to see what's happening.

I was just thinking......

The retirement age is increasing ,every time I watch the news it seems the age gets higher and higher. At retirement age people used to be given a clock or a watch as a gift by the employers, now you are so old when you retire -you don't have that much time left so you get a stopwatch- "happy retirement your time starts now!"


I'm not total vegetarian, I'd say about roughly two third vegetarian you know, 'meat and two veg' sort of person.

Being white and anti racist it's hard- we have to listen to all the shit racists don't dare say to migrants.

I go to the Ardennes on holiday there is hardly any network coverage for my cell phone! then I see migrants getting off boats when they arrive in Europe and they're phoning home!!!!! We might not need their culture but we do need their network providers.


One heart failure death and ten reanimations at this years ten miles event in Antwerp - Start to run isn't a health programme it's more a cull.

There's a worldwide crisis, war, famine, earthquakes, terrorism- if you are a politician and you are posting on twitter you're not doing your job -you shouldn't have that much time.

Sun!

It's easy to see why ancient people worshipped the sun, it makes us feel alive, it creates life and makes us friggin' happy. What do we get from other gods? Madness - and the hope of of better afterlife -maybe.

I love traffic updates on the radio - "just letting you know why you're stuck watching your life drain away on the motorway today"

They say crime is going down in Antwerp, three weeks after they arrested four cops for extortion and violence, …………..

But the sun is out and that makes everything better, except now we have the 'what to wear' crisis!!! Too early for shorts, sunglasses a must, and trying to hold the gut in- quicker than a diet and good for the stomach muscles.


The sun is only great when you live in a country where it's mostly 'grey and rain', then the sun can be welcomed like a liberation army. In hot countries the sun is like a dictator that gives people a shit life and skin cancer.

A few more months and we can all rush to the edge of our respective countries where there is water, and sit half naked and watch other uglies try and get brown, 'cos we like 'voluntary brown' -not so much if it's your natural tone. Racism is more about jealousy than a superiority feeling.

White people never look as cool as black people, never- we try -and sometimes we look good, but never 'cool' , at best in the summer we look like tourists.

A friend of mine- Andy Valvur - says 'white people like to talk of minorities when in the world we whites are the minority'. Right there Andy.

We desperately want the world to love us and our way of doing things and if a smile doesn't work we have the weapons :) Smart bombs! drones and sometimes just us with guns.

Human behavior has made me rethink the name calling like "Animals!!" "Barbarians" "Our Values" and 'freedom' :)

but the sun is shining and the garden is the best place, it's where nature tells us to "shut the fuck up and look around- you're just part of this, nothing special, part of the other living shit on this rock, get over yourself"

So enjoy the sun today folks, it'll probably rain tomorrow, but we have the clothes to deal with it.

Thoughts of the day. 18th of April.

When I was young- now and again I’d see white dog shit on the street, you never see that anymore,has dog shit become more PC? 

When they want to be elected Politicians are our best friends and they tell us about all the nice things they want to do for us, so we vote for them and elect them and they become our worst enemies, and do lots of shit that harms us and future generations, who are these psychopaths? and how can we tell them apart from other babies at birth? or even before birth and abort them. 

Everyday we pass hundreds of people, at work,in cars ,on foot ,on the bus ,while cycling and in line at supermarkets, who are they? Let’s just hope that most of them have had a good day and are not contemplating a messy suicide anywhere near us. 

The internet has become a room where millions of people gather to attract attention to themselves, byte size friendships for byte size egos. 

So, what do I do to relax? I take a ‘giving a fuck’ time-out.

Every morning I eat porridge, every friggin’ morning - does it help? I don’t know, I’d have to change my diet to find out.  

I can’t remember having to ‘re-hydrate’ when I was young, we were out playing football most of the free time, running around sweating not one of us rehydrating, is that why we are now old? 

The saddest thing I’ve seen is a teenager having to drink energy drinks to get to school in the morning, I never thought opening daddies car door could be so tiring.

Who chooses the news? Every night ‘The News’ is the same length, how can that be? Is there a set amount of things that are allowed to happen each

day?

I wonder if anyones’ last words have been , “I wish I’d tweeted more” . 

When we die , people talk about who they thought we were, we become a myth, that is our fate. 

Right, righter, righteous

Language is considered the greatest gift of us homo sapi-apes, because of it we teach, exchange truths (and lies) make relationships, exchange experiences and can use it to avoid violence.
But if language is so important, which nobody will deny , then listening and the ability to hear what people are trying to say instead of the actual words coming from their mouths must also be on a par. But do we listen? or do we just hear what we want to hear? After all it's tiring to have to adjust your point of view because the counter argument is made with 'truths' you hear for the first time. Most of us form views about everything from terrorism to tennis, politics to pop music and we make a personal 'view' on the argument at hand and that becomes our 'thoughts' on the subject, although never written in stone once these 'thoughts' are formed we, generally speaking, look for evidence that we are right. Is it not so that this is how we listen to others? Try to remember the last time a 'debate' on a heated subject ever changed your mind, how many times have you ever said to yourself (and others) "I used to think 'X' but I listened to this speaker on the subject and I have had to conclude that I was wrong all these years, I now think 'Y'."
These thoughts have been troubling me lately, 'what if I'm wrong?' what if my whole life has been based on the wrong decisions because I haven't looked at my 'points of view' under a critical light?
I comfort myself by the thought that 'at least I think about these things, at least I'm critical of my opinions, even if it hardly ever leads to change'.
How can people be so damn sure, I ask myself, how can people be so sure that they and only they know 'truth' , I constantly hear and see people who never question their own personal thoughts on a subject. Take a look at the so called 'social' (what's in a name) network sites, the ranting and raving going on there is horrendous, millions of people everyday shouting and raging at each other trying to prove each other wrong. Actually they don't 'prove' they usually just state their point of view without evidence, and if evidence is used it's 'evidence' that is carefully selected to prove the own opinion.

I used to like watching political debates on television, politicians hardly ever debate to get to the truth, they always debate just to be proved right, the party line is X so they argue that X is right and all the rest is wrong, that's not a debate to get to the truth, it's an exchange of opinions to prove the other side wrong. I've always said that I would most certainly vote for the politician that had the guts and the nerve to  admit that his or her point of view had been changed by the arguments brought to the table by the 'other side', this would be a great leader, a great politician, because they would not only have the ability to speak and argue a point non violently but also the ability to listen, evaluate and make changes.
what a shame that in our society we don't have the culture of admitting that we are sometimes

wrong, people who dare change their opinions are made out for 'turncoats' or 'wishy washy' or even losers, when they might just have found a way of listening and self criticism.

Bricks in the Wall

Education, tailored for kids of the rich.
Get 'em together, teach 'em how to snitch.
The feeling of privilege taking the reins
No blue or red just black in the veins.
Let 'em have it boredom is their thing.
Kick down their doors ,don't knock or ring.

For a Few Dollars More.

It never ends-terrorist attacks, panama papers, war, corruption...... We sometimes forget that there is also good news, good news -all that stuff that never gets reported because it doesn't sell newspapers or get TV ratings up up and away.
Even when the bombs hit Brussels two weeks ago there was -during those horrific attacks - good news going on, all the people who spontaneously helped in whatever way they could - the soldiers/medics/police and ordinary people who rushed to the help of fellow humans in need. These people get less press than the psychopathic lunatics that launched the attack, but they are just as important if not more.
Humans would have never have made it this far in history without the help we give each other in times of need, we weren't the strongest of all living things, if we wanted to survive we had to learn to work together, singularly we were the weakest, collectively the strongest, and that is what awakens in our instinct when it comes to survival.
 It's good to know that not all people will just 'walk past' when you are in need, it's the solidarity we need to survive, we humans survive together on this planet or we disappear together.
Solidarity with other humans , togetherness, not so trendy in this brave new world where endless wealth and gluttony seem to have taken over.
I feel sorry for the super rich, people so rich they and their grandchildren will never spend all the riches they accumulate, and yet a lot of them still only want more and more and more, what a sad way to spend that one life any of us are sure of on this rock in space. Avoiding tax to get a few golden nuggets more be it through a bank in Panama or other tax havens, may be legal but its morally wrong. Unwillingness to pay a fair share of  tax in your country of residence means you have lost the feeling of 'belonging', community and solidarity, they are the few that will never have enough. It must be a lonely superficial world they live in, not to be envied. As all of us they too will die one day, I wonder what their dying thoughts will be?