bedscape (26/August/18)

I’m making mountains in my duvet… bedscapes in which to escape… time away from the rotting decay… out there, there, beyond the folds, this quiet space, this quiet time, this pretence of safety and sanity, where a dabble of delusion never hurts before the daily flood begins anew, the streaming bile of stagnancy, absurdity, stupidity… it’s there, always there… roll up, roll up as ignorance does somersaults headlong into the finest cup of scorn shaken and then stirred with some over-processed  spite and a shot or two of over-cooked contempt… to a feast of pain and people blind to everything but that which directly concerns them… usually no further than their doormat, or their noses, or their ability to remember anything beyond yesterday or the latest tabloid feckless headline or the last but one Tweet they spied before a million more brought another avalanche of trivial banality, distracting pettifoggery, puerile mentality… welcome to the trashy, tawdry, tokenistic and the testimony of many a-writer of one-time fantasy or sci-fi now bearing real fruit but not the kind you’d want to even touch their poison skin or eat their toxic seed… perhaps I could boil them within an inch of their integrity in smotherings of vinegar then seal them in jars to store on a shelf in the darkest recesses of a rarely-opened kitchen cupboard  behind last years and the years before and the decades before that chutneys and preserves long forgotten, and don’t forget to label them in ink that surely fades before you ever find them again…… I’ll have to get up soon, it’s raining… perhaps that’s really all there is to say and all else is moot, wouldn’t have saved a lot of words, and time, so here is my alternative blog of the day…

…… it’s raining… the end.

© 2018 robert greig

leave to remain (17/July/18)

I don’t think one should be labelled a ‘rebel’ merely by disagreeing with someone or something or even the loudest opinion or dominating viewpoint, which is exactly what those who are branded ‘remainers’ are called, and derogatorily so… it’s become and now used as an insult, even a threat, and is irresponsible, if not a little puerile, as it can have and has had the result of inflaming and inciting acts of belittling, bullying, violence and even murder and yet not only are newspapers and other media, in particular the right-wing press and tabloids, but also so-called responsible politicians and others holding high positions of influence and authority… such is the language of the sinking ship Brexit and the whole debacle surrounding it that the ripple effects are becoming ever-evident and increasingly felt by the day, even by the Tweet…… it’s feeding a negative politic and bellicose discourse dominated by knee-jerk reactionaries to the degree as to make confrontation the norm, making aggression a default setting…… alternative and even directly oppositional views are essential to any discussion and debate in avoiding disintegrating into extremism, echo-chambers  and the right-wing agendas which are under Brexit becoming the only gig in town suffocating  the issue doing little more than compounding and promoting one misunderstanding after another and further misleading the already misinformed further into ignorance rather than out of it…… inevitably this may be the intention of those who have self-styled themselves as ‘leavers’… alongside this a new polarity has evolved in the rhetoric in seeing rebels as ‘idealists’ and leavers and ‘realists’ which again leans heavily upon propaganda over facts, hyperbole over considered debate… remainers have been further coined ‘re-moaners’ and accused of going against “the will of the people” which again serves the interests of those whose only interest is almost divide and conquer, cleave a rift between the two sides ever wider and unbridgeable with increased (un)helpings of antagonistic wordplay… it also plays into the hands of the simplistic scenario of good vs evil and by being at the wrong end of a pointy finger stands you accused of “going against the will [so-called] of the people” placing you firmly on the side equated to that of a traitor, another term found carelessly-strewn through speeches and headlines …… it fails to consider another crucial factor, whether or not these long two years after the referendum, during which time it’s more has been exposed of the smoke and mirrors, lies, lies and damn lies that was involved in influencing a ‘leave’ vote with what worryingly passed as ‘campaigning’ during the few short months prior to the vote, whether or not it still genuinely reflected aspirations, especially those which were even at the time starkly and closely split down the middle and that it still hasn’t been enacted… another misconception is that the debate is simplistically split between two opposing camps, both of which have overlaps and in-fighting along with which are a number of other opinions and approaches to Brexit, including those who were more in favour of amending the European Union relationship and not entirely abandoning it outright…… it is not a simple black and white, good and evil, right and wrong, as those too lazy to engage their brains want to believe and those with something to hide would prefer, not a ‘divorce’ nor “reclaiming sovereignty over our borders”, yet another ill-judged, ill-advised, jingoistic catchphrase, it’s essentially a mess, a mass of contradictions, a mass distraction, misleading delusion, a sleight of hand.

© 2018 robert greig

indelible (10/May/18)

one of those days, a cauldron of exhaustion and incendiary, flammable, dangerous, overwhelmed and at the same time don’t care, resigned but about to shatter in a most dramatic, or melodramatic way… an unseemly, unsightly tension…… I should stick to writing haiku, constrained by syllables and convention… not in the way that twitter constrains, or strangles and suffocates in a forum for the frivolous to casually peddle knee-jerk prejudice and scattershot ephemera… see that jigsaw, the one on the floor in pieces, that’s my head…. angry, edgy, jumpy, impatient… what am I doing… here… making friends out of pixels, pixies, tiny little bits of fun with their peek-a-boo nature… attention-deficit junkies…… am I reading too much news, hearing too much news, knowing too much, can you know too much, isn’t knowledge a good thing, knowledge is power they say and yet so many in power seem to know so little and be running on tiny emotions and small-minded dogmatism… what am I doing wrong?…… perhaps nasty is the new black, be outrageous and suddenly you everyone’s bff…… I am my own worst enemy, said so casually… am I?… they do say “keep you friends close and your enemies closer still” but did they mean quite this intimately…… feels like atrophy…. rushed, pushed, squashed, tiny spaces, hung, drawn and quartered, hung out to dry, hanging on a nail… what of my entrails, what do they tell you, divine me something divine, anything even a lie as long as I believe it… but I won’t, cynical you see, not sure if I’m made that way or become so, nature/ nurture blah-blah-blah, don’t believe anything much, always one eye on the punch-line, waiting for it to stab me with its pencil in the eye… daren’t say anything as I know it’ll be the wrong thing, taken the wrong way, in the wrong tone, wrong-headed, wrong-minded… is there a difference?… when there’s nowhere to go where do you go?… inertia… motionlessly motion-sick … kick the air, punch the wall, shout at the moon (what does the moon care), turn my back only then I’d see what’s behind me, dogging my tracks, compelling me propelling me forward til there’s no more forward left… I can’t believe it’s spring already, another one, that’s how many now?… quite a few… do I want to know how many more there’ll be?… probably not… it’s better to burn out that to fade away…… tap, tap, tap the key make so much more noise than a pen, but the pen holds truths the keyboard can only dream of, or is terrified of, where it can delete, delete at a whim as it likes but the pen, the pen leaves every whisper in its wake, indelible…. how many will still be here by the end of this excuse for a blog, will no doubt find out soon enough I suppose…… draining, waning, flailing… they all rhyme, rhyming’s good, fun, seeing what rubbish is masquerading as clutter  today, see, I’m being mindful, with a mind full of nonsense… just because something makes no sense doesn’t make it nonsense…… it’s only worse when I close my eyes, relatively, it’s all relative, that’s the theory, I’m relative to you and you’re relative to me while at the same time not being related at all… unless it’s by six degrees, or however many tangents in a rhomboid… I see what you see but you see it differently…… I’m running out of…

© 2018 robert greig