Sick humour.

As I am now kept alive by a cocktail of drugs should I want to end it all I would simply underdose.


Boom boom.

Stronger than the wood... Grenfell glue. Bravery and Post Traumatic Stress.

WARNING: Throughout the history of this blog I have endeavoured to speak my mind and as a result have alienated people. What follows is the contents of my mind right now. It will offend but it is not designed to offend. It is the contents of my mind.

I was informed today that I am displaying signs of post traumatic stress. I had already worked that out when I found myself walking in the middle of Ladbroke Grove defying the traffic to hit me.

I then thought of that definition of bravery: 'Grace under fire'.  

Hemingway used that definition.

Was that what he was thinking when he put the twelve bore to his head?

Grace under fire...

NO. He was thinking: 'I cannot cope'.


So I wrote this, but not to offend:


As a schoolboy in woodwork
melting unwanted bovine body parts in a crucible
to make glue
glue that bonded my shoddy magazine rack formed from raped-forest mahogany

Stronger than the wood that glue

In the crucible that was Grenfell
unwanted human body parts melted
to make glue
glue that now bonds a community

Stronger than the wood that glue.

What to do with Grenfell Tower now.

SATIRE ALERT



OPTION 1. Keep it standing, a blackened rotting tooth in this denticured gob called London... Once the horrendous task facing the counters has finished leave exactly as it is, leave the detritus, the ashes, the echoes of screams and the silhouettes of ghosts burned into the walls.

Keep it as it is save two things. Two entrances:

One marked 'The rich door' leading to an express lift to a viewing platform planted with wild flowers in memory of the dead on the roof, from where the whole of this 'fair city' and its injustices may be viewed save the tower itself. No one who is wealthy, greedy, bigoted or all three should be allowed access to this door.

The other, marked 'the poor door' leading to the single blackened stairwell that provided the only means of escape from the inferno and then into each flat, one by one and then finally to a vacant window hole on the 24th floor where there is one choice: either throw yourself from the window or throw your entire wealth save that you realistically need to live on to the good of the people. Only the wealthy, greedy and the bigoted will be granted access to this door and it will be compulsory to all.


Option 2. I lied about two options.

Justice for Grenfell. Official website.

I have cut and pasted this from Ishmahil Blagrove's Facebook post.

Thank you Mohammad Hamza for designing the Justice 4 Grenfell logo. A couple of other websites have appeared, however, the official website for the campaign is: justice4grenfell.org please share and circulate this information so that people are aware of the official site: justice4grenfell.org

Schrodinger's Nightmare. A post Grenfell Tower dream.

I don't sleep much these days... Haunted by a recurring dream:



I am standing beside a concrete structure, it is black and featureless, there are no doors or windows.  There are two tubes sprouting from it, one has a label 'IN' and the other 'OUT', a rubber bung hangs from a chain between them.

From this structure come the terrified screams of people in total distress,  I know who they are. It is unbearable to listen to but I am somehow rooted to the spot.

I have a choice, two options:

1. I can bung up the out tube in order to mute the screams from within. Condemning the occupants to eternal suffering in silence.

2: I can bung up the in tube in order to cut off the air supply. It will most certainly mean death to the occupants but it will put an end to their screams, their suffering, My suffering.

Thus far I have woken before a decision is made.

Awake now, 4.00 am, it occurs to me that I should toss a coin to determine my actions when next confronted by this nightmare and stick with that.

After all. I know that it is not real, no one will suffer. It is merely a subconscious philosophical exercise.

My inner child is shouting: 'Toss the coin'... His name is Kurtz and he is presently playing dominoes with Freud.

Scientology and Tragedy and other Grenfell Tower stories.

There was an extraordinary event yesterday under the Westway. I'll write about it later.

What I want to write about now is this:

As I walked to the event I spotted a bright yellow, high viz van parked adjacent to the flyover. The van informed me that it was the Church of Scientology.


Later as I sat in the garden of the Maxilla centre I noticed that same high viz yellow, this time on T shirts dotted among the crowds adorning those apparently part of the organisation.



The organisers of the event were wearing tags around their necks, one such man was also wearing a high viz yellow cap. I approached him, inspected his tag and asked if he was an organiser of the event. He replied to the positive. I then asked who was behind it all. He pointed to his companion's T shirt, you guessed it, high viz yellow emblazoned with the words: 'Scientology Volunteer Minister'.

I asked him to confirm that. He did.

I went back to my seat and my companion who was carrying a  professional video camera. We then sat and watched as the entire Scientology presence evaporated within seconds. They vanished.

I find this highly disturbing. The Church of Scientology is the last presence one needs in such a situation. They prey on victims, they prey on the marginalised, they prey on the weak, they prey on the confused and all they offer is the impossible. The implausibly sick impossible.

Why were they allowed anywhere near here?

To be continued

A white black man on Ladbroke Grove.

This evening, hungry, I walked to Ladbroke Grove. I milked my card at Sainsbury's machine then bought beer at a local store. I walked on to the chippie for dinner.

A saxophonist my age and most certainly more colourful, busking by Ladbroke Grove station said, as I passed: You look like Gil Scott Heron.

I stopped for a moment and we did some reverential shit about Gil.

On my way back with cod and chips, extra salt I saw him again as he was packing up his stuff. I stopped and asked if he was doing this for money. He said no he was doing what he loved but if people wanted to give him something he wasn't going to stop them.

I offered him the contents of my pockets. He said: 'Shit, that is too much man'.. I said: 'No it is exactly the right amount.'We parted, each agreeing we would meet again, both sure but uncertain.

His last words to me were: ' I knew you were a poet'.

The first time I have smiled for days.

The Masque of Anarchy in full. Percy Bysshe Shelly. Rise like Lions.

The poem quoted by Jeremy Corbyn today at Glastonbury is not a call to arms or violence. 

"Stand ye calm and resolute,

Like a forest close and mute,

With folded arms and looks which are

Weapons of unvanquished war.

And if then the tyrants dare,

Let them ride among you there;

Slash, and stab, and maim and hew;

What they like, that let them do.

With folded arms and steady eyes,

And little fear, and less surprise,

Look upon them as they slay,

Till their rage has died away:

Then they will return with shame,

To the place from which they came,

And the blood thus shed will speak

In hot blushes on their cheek:

Rise, like lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number!

Shake your chains to earth like dew

Which in sleep had fallen on you:

Ye are many—they are few!"^[3

Sarong and sable.

Theresa May's new defining soundbite.

Cocaine for Grenfell. An intentionally sensational headline.

A few years ago I had the temerity to suggest that the well heeled of Notting Hill, instead of buying that next gram of coke, give the money to orphaned children in eastern Europe. I was pilloried and shut down. I was shut down by Facebook who did not even read my post. I use satire frequently, I hope that readers will look beyond my headlines. They don't.

Once again, will the well heeled, the faux well heeled,  the wannabe's, the addicts in denial I meet every day on the streets of Notting Hill in the Cow, in E&O, in the Electric, the closet Tories claiming to have voted otherwise, those coming to Grenfell for 'a look', Please just give the cost of that next gram to the legitimate appeal fund and help. Perhaps Cameron and his cronies will do the same.

What most of you are buying is not cocaine anyway, it is synthesised snake oil. It will not get you anywhere other than denial and if you want to get high I suggest you climb to the top of Grenfell because the only place you are not going to feel guilt from is there. The only place Grenfell is not visible from is Grenfell itself.



The intention of my sensational headline is to get this read by the people who need to read it.

The money spent in Notting Hill  on cocaine in a few months would buy homes for all the victims.

So shoot me.

Inflammatory. Theresa May.

Theresa May Clinging on to power with the tenacity of the Grenfell Tower cladding and equally as flammable. Or do I mean Inflammatory.

Grenfell Tower. The latest post from Grenfell Action Group.

Please follow the link below and read. Grenfell Action Group to my mind is one of the few reliable sources of truth right now. They are the people who have been trying to warn RBKC that the tragedy would happen. they have been vilified and suppressed and threatened with legal action should they continue their actions.

They are not loony radicals, not trouble makers, just the voice of a community desperate to make themselves and their serious concerns heard and understood.


https://grenfellactiongroup.wordpress.com/2017/06/22/grenfell-tower-fire-the-forgotten-forgotten-victims/

Grenfell Tower. Those who need to keep away.

This is far from a comprehensive list but these are examples of what this community does not need:

• The tabloid press.
• Tory politicians blaming the victims.
• The disaster tourists.

Never miss a selfie opportunity.

• The scientologists and all the other fake Shamen, emotional snake oil salesmen and spiritual con merchants.

 s

Church of Scientology tent set up under the west way.

• The Anarchists and activists attempting to hijack the disaster for the furtherment of their own agenda.
• The conspiracy theorists
• The leaders of RBKC until they hand themselves in to the police.
• The well heeled beneficiaries of the 'Gentrification' of the area who wander down to take a look.
• The 'young Lions' demanding a riot.
• Anyone who is not directly affected by this tragedy but feels it is all about themselves.
• The Just giving web site making a fortune out of misfortune. Boycott them now.
• Those people attempting to turn this into some kind of ghoulish Carnival.
• The fake 'documentary' makers.