Bookends…

L   If gale-force Fortune sweeps you off you feet, let it; ride it; and admit defeat.   There's no point in resisting; it's too strong - willy-nilly, you'll get swept along.   Palladas. Tony Harrrison   It was an unseasonably warm October night. The high winds of the midweek had ceased and it was still.... Continue Reading →

Theft and the Tragic Cycle

  The thing about coincidences is that they do tend to happen, if only by coincidence. Take my daughter's bike for example; as somebody did the other day. In the great pantheon of stealing, bike theft comes in at a very low ranking. If Aristotle was to pronounce upon it, he would state that bikes... Continue Reading →

Win At All Costs! Or Not…

Eugene Christophe Tour de France I always associate the Tour de France with colour. Firstly, there are the colourful fields of sunflowers that have come to symbolise this yearly adventure and then there are the team kits. In 1919, just after the slaughter of the Great War, the Tour set about its pilgrimage around the... Continue Reading →

Going nowhere on a tragic cycle…

The problem with tragedy is that it never has a happy ending. Tragedy ends in death. It starts with a bad decision, leads on to disgrace and downfall, scrapes you through a period of suffering that appears never likely to end before there is a realisation, ‘Fuck, that’s what I did wrong’ or, ‘Fuck, I... Continue Reading →

Do you have a Mushy Middle?

I am hoping that the answer to that is no. However, in the last few years I have discovered (along with the rise of the right) there is a less strident and more sloth-like  movement that favours the, well the 'well' person. 'Well' means that you haven't really given it full consideration. You haven't looked... Continue Reading →

Read, read and read again…

'England is sick, and...English literature must save it. The Churches have failed, and social remedies being slow, English literature now has a triple function: still, I suppose, to delight and instruct us, but also, above all, to save our souls and to heal the State.'  George Gordon  Professor of Literature  Oxford University 1922 During the... Continue Reading →

Me, the Viking.

The sixties was a time of discovery in British education. I didn't know that because I was one of the lucky ones to be schooled through it. We had teachers who were new to the profession, teachers who had grown up through the war and grown some more in the fifties and then into sixties.... Continue Reading →

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