now we are six (8/August/18)

we accept so much ugliness in the world, these incompatible deformities and gracelessness, because they coexist with each other and worryingly, with ourselves… we all too easily and quickly become inured, immune, complacent and ultimately mutely and unconditionally accepting, a shock becomes a shrug, a shrug becomes a swipe of the finger onto the next 15 minute/ second buzz…
… there once was a Boris and that once is now who had literary pretensions far exceeding any presumed or genuine literary skills who, underneath a Halloween mask of clumsiness, was either genuinely stupid or genuinely disingenuous feigning ignorance between the act of stimulating a debate anxiety and actually being offensive, a red line in a six year old child one perhaps may forgive for not discerning difference but as a grown-up with all the grown-up responsibilities  and attributes that for better or worse go hand-in-hand one is merely left astounded at such levels of wilful disdain and ignorance… the Boris suffered mostly from not a single original thought, becoming a merry plagiarist of other lives, seeking the vicarious spotlight and attention of those even more deluded than him in which to disturbingly, toplessly bask oblivious that perhaps some men, as is imposed (rightly or wrongly) upon women, should not take their tops off in public… and did so, in copycat-killer of language style, sycophantically steal a method employed by another stain of evolution called a Trump both of whom care not a jot what slicks and debris are left in their wake and again like a six year old child pronounces as outrageous a diatribe of bile and deceit just to see how far he can push it and push it and push it while dancing and flailing with puppety arms and puppety hair…. isn’t it enough to be baffled as to how and why anyone, especially a leader of la-la land gets away with astounding levels of bile, hate and divisive intolerance without having our very own Trump-a-like pretender in a ‘Boris’ on this side of the sea-level rising pond lapping every cowpat he steps in with relish…… this is not to “stifle debate” or “avoid the hard questions”, such overused shorthand itself designed to shut down informed discussion, it’s merely wishing for intelligence over the dance-macabre twitteresque excreted by twits.

© 2018 robert greig

pants of fire (21/July/18)

you’ve got to laugh, otherwise you’d stick your head in a blender…. “liar, liar, pants on fire!”… childish I know but that’s just I feel like shouting, and anyway, petulance seems to have become the default setting, alongside bigotry, racism, hostility, intolerance, anti-anyone who doesn’t look like you, a load of “na na na-na na” moments… but honestly, whenever the American president, I can’t even say that without laughing, says anything at all you can guarantee within 24 hours he’ll say the opposite, BFF’s face-to-face then slag, slag, slag as soon as their backs are turned, beyond a punch in the face reach… honestly, what’s he like!… well, a 10 year old, 12 at best, 6 at worse, although that’s probably disrespectful to those who are actually that age and not actually as childish as he is, or hypocritical, or turning a tantrum into an international incident, or worse… we’ve seen some pretty ropy, dodgy, you name it US presidents  but my oh my this has to be the worse, largely for its implications but also for the unfathomable reality that their equally ropy and dodgy, and outdated, voting process actually elected him…. “it’s democracy Jim, but not as we know it”, or wish it to be… the rise of right wing nationalism is not just the domain nor construct of the religious zealots, fanatics and your stereotype extremist but lives and breathes, pees and poos in the blackening hearts of an increasing number of (so-called) Western leaders doing precisely what they accuse others (i.e. the so-called East) of, becoming  Facebook besties with one after another eschewing those anyone promoting a more liberal, cooperative and less confrontational point of view…. honestly, one could say I’m speechless but as I’m scribbling this I’m clearly not entirely but I am become numb, don’t even know where to start in pointing out the clear and present wrongness of it all and it’s rubbing off on other global leaders, movers and shakers alike… yet another historical/ hysterical turning point?… but then, when are we not… every day another slow-motion car crash…  how low can one go?… as it happens very, exceedingly, lower than the word low can justifiably be used to describe it, too exponential depths ever in this bottomless race to the nadir… it’s said that rules are made to be broken, though I never thought by the people who actually make them…… honestly, he’s having one heck of a midlife crisis, get a sports car or have an affair (oh wait, he’s done the latter hasn’t he?… and the former!), take up pole-dancing (eek! now there’s an image I wish I’d never conjured)…. he’s been pushing so many buttons since usurping the straw throne that soon there’s only going to be one left to push, and therein lies to fear….
health warning: do not, and I repeat, do not, entertain a ‘special relationship’ with this man because it’ll end in tears… yours for certain…

© 2018 robert greig

reasons to be fearful.. (13/July/18)

I don’t know what it is, I’ve been trying and trying and trying to write a piece for today which would reflect on the not-the-State-Visit of a certain ‘world leader’ from a certain home of the brave, land of the (so-called) free and I think I’ve been trying and trying and trying too hard and got buried in thought slurry… too many thoughts scrabbling to be rescued from the pit, save me! no save me! no me! pick me, pick, me, pick me!
and I’m like, what the f…, leave me out of it!
there too much, too much, but I have to write about it, no I don’t, yes I do, no I don’t, yes I do… see, see what I have to live with, I should wear am “I’m with this idiot” teeshirt with the arrow pointing upwards… every time I try I lose myself wandering in a mire of angst and panic and a certain so-called ‘special relationship’ which should come with a Buyer Beware label: special relationships can seriously damage your economy, reputation, health and patience …… oh so many, too many, far, far too many thoughts, fears, worries… be gone! I shout with my inside voice but to no avail… maybe it’s a Friday 13th thing…. I wouldn’t mind if they were a tad more orderly in their presentation instead of the raggle-taggle, rag-bag assemblage resembling a tree strewn in toilet rolls fired from an enormous party-popper the morning after a student graduation party……
surely it’s a BIG thing, Mister I-have-more-laughable-hair-than-you President’s (a lesser-known character of Roger Hargreaves ‘Mr Men’ surely) visit here and I should mention it, shouldn’t I?… but why, when all the world and his dog is already anyway, what use would my contribution be to the shambles, to the hypocrisy, only…. with our septic (sic) Isles already fragmented and eating itself alive over Brexit, financial crashes, stumbling infrastructures, rising right-wing nationalism, crumbling transport systems, homelessness, racial intolerance, religious intolerance, gender intolerance, intolerance, intolerance, intolerance is this just more reasons to be fearful… or business as usual?…….
it’s even got me using the term ‘like’ (re: earlier moment in this blog) in a sentence which is utterly meaningless and a waste of good letters… and anyway, it matters not a jot what I say, as I’ve said many-a time before, no one’s going to read it anyway … I’ve written, rewritten, re-rewritten, re-re-rewritten… I surrender!… I was once told put distance between you and what bothers you, I sat in a chair on the other side of the room… job done…. and it is a comfy chair…… I read about George the Dormouse…………

© 2018 robert greig