Living is killing me.

A guest blog by Jan Nieupjur.

I think this might be ironic:

I was in the pub this evening along with the usual bar flies when I was approached by a stranger. A stranger with a beligerent glint in his eye.

He said: 'What do you do for a living'?

And I said that I guess you could say I die for a living and he said what do you mean and I said: 'I assume by 'living' you mean income and the only income I get is in the form of sickness benefits and I get the sickness benefits because I am dying and if I weren't dying I wouldn't get benefits so yes I'm earning a living from dying.

Oh. He said.

The prospects are not good I said. No chance of promotion and no woman is going to take a chance with a man without prospects certain to die on the job.

He said; 'You could write Country & Western songs about it, earn big bucks, buy some fancy clothes and a Porsche, get a girl no problem and your job wouldn't be killing you anymore. You never know, you might only be dying in order to earn a living.

You know I stopped and thought about that for a moment or two.

You mean living is killing me I said.

He said: ; There we go, your first song title'.

Trump to lead US troops into Iran.

A guest blog by Nurse Luz Morales.

I can reveal that Donald Trump has been attending fittings for a new military uniform. I should know I am his executive nurse and travel everywhere with him.

From what I have seen the uniform is based on that of Napoleon with a large turkey feather on the hat.

Donny told me, during his daily therapy,  that, once they find an uninhabited bit of desert and as soon as the coast is clear he is determined to be seen entering Iran on a white horse at the head of his armies whereupon he will shoot at dummies provided by the Presidential spin corps.

Donny says it will take peoples minds off impeachment and show him as a national hero along the lines of Rambo (his hero).

Luz Morales.

Rogue drone missing in Notting Hill.

Oops.

I have been modifying a drone in order that it can perform certain specific functions. I've modified the software to include wireless charging from BT hotspots to give me a infinite flight duration. the BT link also allows it to access AI programmes.  It can fetch and carry medication or beer, post mail, attend gigs for me and send back video.

It has gone rogue on me, overridden any control I had and is now somewhere in the neighbourhood doing who knows what.

I receive the occasional image, I presume to let me know that it is still operating but due to its stealth capabilities it is impossible to locate.

I last had control on a flight from Oxford Gardens to All Saints Road yesterday. If you sight it please let me know. do not attempt to capture it as it has self defence capabilities in the form of Origami ZX timefold software.

A bloody good New Year resolution.

 From the Yorkshire Post:


"As we start this new year and new decade, our country feels more fragmented than any of us would like. Too often we hear that our divisions – by class or geography, by politics, age, race or by faith – have come to define us.
If we are not happy with the state of our society, it falls to us all to do something about it. New Year is the time for resolutions and on this first day of the 2020s, we urge others to join us in making a resolution for the new decade.
Our resolution is to reconnect. To reach out to just one person we don’t know, or from whom we have drifted apart. To start rebuilding connections between neighbours and fellow citizens.

While our politics and media have become more polarised we, as people, have not. There is much that we share with each other: sit any two people down together and they will find some common ground.
So the power of reconnection will depend on how many of us, as citizens, step up together. Every institution, too – not just government but education, business, sport, civic society and faith – should play its part in helping bridge social divides.
Today is about a small first step that we can all take – to leave behind a decade of division and begin our decade of reconnection.
Yours,
Amanda Watkin, General Secretary, Rotary Club International Great Britain and Ireland;
Angela Salt OBE, Chief Executive, Girlguiding;
Dame Carolyn Fairbairn, Director, CBI;
Emily Eavis, Organiser, Glastonbury Festival;
Sir Hugh Robertson, Chair, British Olympic Association;
Jacqui Smith, Chair, Jo Cox Foundation;
James Mitchinson, Editor, Yorkshire Post;
Jasvir Singh OBE, Chair, City Sikhs
John E McGrath, Artistic Director, Manchester International Festival.
Karl Wilding, Chief Executive, NCVO;
Kwame Kwei-Armah OBE, Artistic Director, Young Vic;
Lynne Stubbings, Chair of the National Federation of Women’s Institutes;
Matt Hyde, Chief Executive, Scouts Association;
Matthew Elliot, former Chief Executive, Vote Leave;
Maurice Ostro OBE, Vice Chair, Council of Christians and Jews
Mike Sharrock, Chief Executive, British Paralympic Association;
Mustafa Field OBE, Director, Faiths Forum for London
Rt Revd Nick Baines, Bishop of Leeds;
Rabbi Nicky Liss, Chair, Rabbinic Council of the United Synagogue and Rabbi of Highgate United Synagogue;
Paul Reddish, Chief Executive, Volunteering Matters;
Imam Qari Asim MBE, Chair, Mosques & Imams National Advisory Board;
Sabir Zazai, Chief Executive, Scottish Refugee Council;
Sanjay Jagatia, Chair, Hindu Think Tank UK
Sunder Katwala, Director, British Future;
Professor Ted Cantle CBE, Chair, Belong – the Cohesion and Integration Network;
Tim Roache, General Secretary, GMB;
Dr Victoria Winckler, Director, The Bevan Foundation;
Will Straw CBE, former Executive Director, Britain Stronger in Europe"

22

Christmas kindness, homelessness and a full joy cupboard.

 

I have only known my neighbour a few weeks. I do know that she is a single mum with a 3 year old. She is in temporary accomodation with RBKC and facing imminent eviction through no fault of her own. Her Christmas has been very scary. she did however find the time and the kindness to leave this at my door. MY joy cupboard is full.

My faith in the local authority is zero.

Homeless tales from RBKC. No:1. MARK.

This is Mark.

He was outside Tesco a short while ago. As I went in I asked if I could get him anything. He politely said: 'Thank you. No'. Once back out of the shop I sat and had a chat about his circumstances which are miserable.
He is seemingly neither a boozer or drug user and was happy to talk.

The only thing I could do was give him the money for an hotel room and the fare to get him there. As my only source of income is my sickness benefit this is no small amount. I am meeting him tomorrow to see how we can get him into some kind of home.

I am sick and tired of doing the things that RBKC are supposedly here for. Happy Xmas.

Some good news for me is that I have been reembursed by a local initiative that I am part of which asks tourists and instagrammers to make a donation to help local homeless. RBKC are happy to endorse this initiative in their recently made video:

You can also read about this on the RBKC website HERE

In essence RBKC are promoting an initiative which exists purely to perform a service that the local authority is failing in.  Is this irony?

I shall try to add to this on a regular basis.

RBKC giving the gift of enlightenment this Christmas.

RBKC are giving their temporary housing tennants the gift of enlightenment this year.

Political correspondent Jan Nieupjur reports that Housing officers in the borough feel that occupants of temporary housing do not know how lucky they are. To that end they are evicting them and thus giving the gift of homelessness in order that they may understand better how much worse it can get.

Once homeless they can be given the additional gift of removal from the borough allowing the place to become a much nicer place for the social elite and Russian money launderers who often complain about poor people in their line of sight.

Editors note: This is satire and should not be confused with fake news.

RBKC social cleansing at Christmas.

How about this for a shitty Christmas tale: I had a Christmas morning chat with my neighbour, a delightful young woman with a young daughter. She informed me that Their Christmas has been somewhat dampened by the fact that the local authority had served an eviction notice two days earlier because as she is in temporary accomodation, and has been for years, and refused to move to Essex as demanded by them she has made themselves intentionally homeless and must go. She also told me that she cannot have family visit her from overseas at Christmas because one of the conditions of this boroughs temporary housing agreements is that she is not allowed visitors, even close family, to stay overnight. God bless you RBKC, the richest borough in the land, at this time of peace and good will to all.

there is much much more to this sordid tale which I will add in due course.

The fraudulent muse at christmas.

Christmas is a wonderful time
for the fraudulent muxe

She has got away with it again
for another year

She thinks.

Her tree decorated with sparkling lies,
dull looks, paranoia, debt, delusions of granduer,
mind snails, decay, theft, smells and
obsessive fears of honesty.

Christmas is a wonderful time
for the fraudulent muse

And as usual and again
for another year

She demands love but inspires nothing

But pity.

And no one needs a pityful muse.

Love measures itself.

Eternity is a curious concept. It ends with the death of the person measuring it.

You know...  Whatever you say will last forever will last until you die and no longer.

Unless it is love which lasts until you change your mind because you didn't really know what love was and when you said I will love you forever you realy meant I will love you until something better comes along, something that explains love and explains why love will last as long as it does and then die.

Because love measures itself.

And in some shape or form lasts forever.

Unlke eternity.

Duncan, Blue, smoothies. Guilty as charged.

 

Innocent smoothies shooting an ad today... some bloke called Duncan from Blue. Nice people and a very cold but lovely actress.

Happy to post this as Innocent smoothies are a fundamental ingredient, along with vodka,  of my 'lost weekend smoothie'. 

A slogan for which could be: All your 5 a day and drunk before breakfast. Back to bed!

Wrong about the muse. Dora Maar.

A couple of nights ago, having dinner with an artist friend, we got to talk about the muse. I made a couple of crass statements about the gender of the muse based on my automatic assumptions as a male of the species.

Had my friend been less polite she would have pointed out that I was talking utter bollocks. As it was she left me to realise, as  later, I thought about that evening, that I was as far from right as is possible.

I've often written about the muse but to date always with the assumption that the muse was female. I guess I can try to justify that by saying that I am a man and like most men am driven by women and assume that only a woman could assume the role of the muse. Also there is the homophobic thing.

Often the muse turns out to be the more talented one who has been bullied.

There is an exhibition of work by Dora Maar (Picasso's muse) at Tate Modern. I sense that she will convince me of that. I'll go and see then report back.

https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/dora-maar

The cooker hood as muse.

After a pint at the Cow
and a pleasant unexpected meeting
I took my self home
to lay out some rugs
lent by a friend and
to concentrate a chicken stock

The extractor fan on the hood
was not working
I took apart the cooker hood
grease greeted me like an unwelcome friend asking for money

I removed the filter
remeniscent of the airfilter
on the Lancia Fulvia rally sprint
That I bought in the 80's

I remembered how good
the front wheel drive
worked so well
in the snow and ice
in north oxfordshire
and I remembered Julia
who sat beside me then
and Victoria who in her first year
lay in the carrycot on the back seat

I remembered how well I loved
unconditionally
back then before it fell apart
and we all moved on.

It took a cooker hood
to remind me
to cherish memories
and not dwell on bitterness.