........................................................................................ - a weBlog by Snowy and me.

Friday, 14 September 2012

The Arms Race Begins At Home

In the 1950s households thought worthy of description
were described in terms of their consumer durables,
the electronics, the multiples of radios, televisions
and other ready diversions that people found handy
for avoiding listening to one another.

In the Britain of  the 1980s came the mass car culture-
a state wherein children depended on their parents
to get on the road and the roads to escape their parents,
into an ever expanding empire of debt.
In that era I learned thrift through the habit of hitching lifts.

Nowadays when I think about how to measure prosperity
I think of the Muslim Middle East where a households wealth
is measured by the patriarch's ability to take offence
at government reform, distant powers,
and the immediate world around him,
and in his collection of Kalashnikov rifles.


The more the patriarch has the more he is looked up to by other (lesser) men.

  

Thursday, 13 September 2012

Representative Democracy

is what happens when television tells us
that our vote puts us in the drivers seat,
of government, but the media magnate
who is grooming the leading candidate
is the person who is in actual control.

Everyone else is a dummy with a ticket
in a rigged lottery who would not recognise
the prize even when told what real winnings were,
or how they might claim them.

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Abdicating Responsibility

I have often heard the phrase
'Something must be done', about
something that is obviously wrong,
and just as often disbelieved the speaker.
King Edward the VIII said it first,
of the poverty of the miners in South Wales,
on the 17th November 1936, as he toured
his country, meaning they should be supported.

The playboy king, looked so fine in uniform
and had such a good life that 25 days later,
under pressure from The Establishment,
he accepted that he should abdicate.





















Everyone who has used the phrase
since seems to echo his detachment.

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

The More Things Change The More They Remain Unchanged

After the riots in Belfast in September,
and the police chief's call to reason
through the media I found the following
in an old email. It is a timeless
piece of writing, when I first read it
I was acutely reminded of one
of my favourite writers J. G. Ballard...

The Irish Times - Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Heroic Belfast youths engage in rites of noble heritage

NEWTON EMERSON


NEWTON'S OPTIC: THIS WEEKEND’S rioting in Belfast shows the adaptable, innovative and modernising side of the city’s feral underclass.
Think of a sectarian interface in Northern Ireland and you will almost certainly picture inner-city streets of run-down terraced housing, separated by corrugated iron peace walls decorated with naff “community” murals.
But the flashpoint of this weekend’s disturbances was a new roundabout over a six-lane underpass, connecting a retail park and a shopping centre to the M1 and Westlink urban motorways.
It would be hard to imagine a more typical 21st-century landscape, let alone one more forbidding to human interaction.
The roundabout itself is nearly a quarter of a mile wide, surrounded by multi-lane approaches and high-speed on-ramps. Pedestrian access is strictly corralled through crash-proof steel barriers.
Yet the heroic youth of loyalist south Belfast and republican west Belfast crossed this hostile wasteland to engage in the rites of their noble heritage, proving that the ancient traditions of Ulster will not be crushed beneath the tarmac and concrete of materialist car culture.
In so doing they reclaimed a sterile space which the planners had sought to deny them, echoing other progressive urban movements like London’s guerrilla gardeners or Italy’s slow cities campaign.
Ironically, it is suspected that the Westlink was deliberately built to separate South and West Belfast, so rioting on its major overpass subverts its intended function in a joyous celebration of spontaneous urban vitality.
It is only a pity that the 123ft-high aluminium peace sculpture in the centre of the roundabout has not yet been built due to lack of funds, as it could have been dismantled for missiles and weapons in a powerful act of symbolic repossession.
After trashing the roundabout, trouble then spread to the nearby Bog Meadows Nature Reserve. It might seem that rioting in a bog is a backward step, pandering to outdated and possibly racist stereotypes of ignorant muck-splattered savagery.
However, the Bog Meadows Nature Reserve is a Unesco award-winning wildfowl refuge based on the latest thinking in wetland and grassland conservation. Bringing this challenging space into the sphere of rioting venues is a triumph of logistics, lateral thinking and environmental awareness which greatly advances the dynamic of urban conflict situations.
It means, for example, that when a police officer shouts “duck” they might now be referring to an actual duck.
Finally, after trashing the Bog Meadows, both sides attacked the Donegall Road Kentucky Fried Chicken in a postmodern rejection of both shallow consumerism and their own disgusting obesity.
This is the largest Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet in Ireland, while the US state of Kentucky is strongly associated with Ulster-Scots influence, tying in potent themes of cross-community and anti-capitalist tension with the “drive-through” motif of the earlier disturbances at the roundabout.
In many ways, the entire weekend can thus be seen as a triptych of performance art set-pieces, unconstrained by the physical and mental barriers of provincial bourgeois society.
It is often said that Belfast’s shiny peace process makeover is a superficial development which has passed the urban underclass by. This weekend, loyalist and republican rioters proved otherwise.
They are every bit as happy wrecking the new city centre as they were wrecking the old one.

Monday, 10 September 2012

Fifty Shades Of Blandness

Why is it that when I pursue pornography
I feel like a man who wanted to create
and share a meal with a friend, prepared
from scratch, with fresh vegetables
herbs and spices, and the meal be served
with wine at an elegant table with lit candles,
but in the process of my pursuit I end up
reduced to putting hot water into a pot noodle?




Sunday, 9 September 2012

Ars Longa Vita Brevis

Cave painting of a horse.

Cave Painting Lascaux (South West France).

Aboriginal cave painting.
Urulu cave painting.