Monthly Archives: November 2014

I am humanist and I want to be loved, just like AC Grayling does

I am sitting in a dressing room with tea and chocolate, mulling over possible humanism for an interview. this is where I have got to so far…. Why are you a humanist? am I a humanist? I suppose it is probably the -ist tag … Continue reading

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“It’s Your Money I’m After, Baby”, laughed the buck-toothed space oligarch

I wrote this to release the homunculus in my skull which was trying to stop me breathing. Oh, Coventry Station, you have failed on intelligence, ingenuity, imagination. And Virgin…well, here we go again. Another hopeless night on the railways. I … Continue reading

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“O Captain, My Captain” – My Day Back at School

This evening, I have to make a speech to some school leavers. I am rummaging around my head, working out what I want to say to the young and hopeful that may be of any importance whatsoever. I am not … Continue reading

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The Socialist Search for the Lilliputian Yorkshire Pudding…and the pheromones of Farage

When the mainstream media left asks what has become of the Labour Party, it fails to notice that it has also lost its stomach for a fight and chosen to hang around gallery openings, waving at Grayson Perry while eating … Continue reading

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The Poltergeist that was Mince and Onion… haunting mince and onion

Last night, I was kept wake by the smell of mince. The smell of mince had first come into my day as I approached lunch at the BBC cafeteria. It smelt liked mince cooked in an armpit. Once it was … Continue reading

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Waiting for the Confirmation of Derision

We all have different thicknesses of carapace. With performers, some have carapaces of tensile steel, they possess a certainty which means that even the ugly gig or awry performance can be shrugged off. I have seen some who have almost … Continue reading

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My Baby JG Ballard Days – stand ups and horror and why the two meet.

When it came to toys, I was the luckiest child. I didn’t have a Six Million Dollar Man doll or an Action Man tank, there was no Stretch Armstrong or Mousetrap, but I did have a real sheep’s skull, with … Continue reading

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