A BrightHouse casts a dark shadow

The poor may be always with us but, that's no justification for exploiting them.

Church-based campaign pickets retail chain for exploiting poor - news from ekklesia

Quandary

Just switched on the TV and, it’s Davina McCall’s new chat show on BBC1; I know that I’ve only seen the first few minutes but, rarely have I felt so embarrassed for a presenter, it feels almost as if her body doesn’t belong to her and she absolutely doesn’t know what to do with her arms. I’ve just realized, she doesn’t know what to do with her legs either. Perhaps this reaction goes some way to explaining why I’ve always preferred spoof chat shows, at least the embarassment is intended. Anyway, I’m no TV critic so enough said!

The big question is, should I just switch the machine off or endure it (as background distraction) until K T Tunstall appears?

A la recherche ...

The ‘Afternoon Play’ on Radio 4 proved quite intriguing, with a man pursuing the reasons that his uncle, some 60 years earlier, was buried amongst the fascists in a Spanish village when he had gone out there as an idealistic communist. Eventually, it transpired that he had resisted the brutal bludgeoning to death of villagers by a group of republicans, hence his being considered an agent for the fascists, for which he was summarily executed and buried in the wrong camp. His nephew pleaded that the local priest should avoid any Christian ritual over the re-interment of his remains, in keeping with his uncle’s ideological atheism.

In my younger days, I was privileged to meet with former International Brigaders, many of whom felt that they had been betrayed by their Stalinist comrades and yet, still maintained a strong belief in the ideals that had taken them out there.

Although I was at this time much drawn to a pacifist creed and, something of a utopian socialist, I found it impossible to dismiss these peoples humanitarian idealism. Perhaps it was these people’s faith that freed me to take up a class war stance and, enter into an engagement with Marxist (specifically Trotskyist) politics. Over the years, however, I seemed to spend far too much time bitching over ‘theological’ differences with other left wingers, attempting to find a ‘true’ fundamentalist understanding of the beloved Karl; it almost seemed as if the real enemy was to be found in the ‘socialist’ camp and, the real struggle was forgotten, apart from a ‘token’ presence on picket lines and demos.

My socialist ideals remain pretty well intact but, I’m afraid I underestimated capitalisms ability to re-invent itself and pander to the baser instincts of an apparently wider grouping of people.

A Question of Taste

One of the great mysteries of life is how our taste buds can be cultivated to appreciate distinctive flavours, sharpness, sweet, sour etcetera. When I think of all the years of bold experimentation I underwent, in the quest to further my appreciation of the finer qualities of wine, real ale and, single malts, little considering the cost or benefits to my health, I feel quite proud of my powers of persistence for a noble cause.

Recently, I’ve even managed to cultivate a taste (from necessity) for water, not the pretentious bottled variety but that liquid, so easily taken for granted, that flows from our taps. Whilst taking anti-viral tablets, I have deliberately and advisedly increased my consumption but, I have to admit that its attraction is now on the wane. The taste of my first couple of glasses of the day seems far more appalling than the worst mass-produced keg bitter; in the beer stakes a little effort soon enabled one to swallow copious quantities of the stuff, good, bad or indifferent just to be sociable but, water is an altogether different beast. The more I consume, the more it seems to take on what must be the foul taste of my own mouth. Perhaps, persistence will wash away that self-same taste and, I will gradually rediscover the joys of H2O’s refreshment.

With the increased difficulty of taking Adam’s Ale neat, or “on the rocks”, the only option seems to be an increase in the infusions of green tea, jasmine tea and Earl Grey, to be consumed.

By way of variety, in the flavour stakes, the odd glass or two of wine will be more than welcome, slowly re-introduced to the system, within the limits of my reduced tolerance of course! It seems such a shame to have a reasonably stocked cellar if it’s never to be disturbed.

Thankyou BBC

I’ve just been listening to “Afternoon Play: Pips” (BBC Radio 4), a wonderfully perceptive gentle comedy set in a dentist’s waiting room. The action was carried through a series of internal monologues, occasionally interspersed with dialogue; Glyn Houston as the Professor really captured the vulnerability of a recently widowed burnt-out academic and, his sense of frailty and mortality was beautifully balanced by the revelling in her own fecundity of Dr Powell, a former colleague. Although the play was set at a dental surgery, the only thing that set my teeth on edge was the top and tailing song, as James Blunt nasally whined “ … yow-er bew-ooo-ti-ful”!

This play, along with Monday’s “The Fortunestown Kid” and Wednesday’s “The Discourse of Two Once-Young Women” have once more served to remind me just what an excellent service the BBC provides.

Whither Normality?

This afternoon bore witness to my first “collapse” for a few days but, it leaves a big question. Am I wrung out by the ache and discomfort of the facial shingles or, is it simply a reflection of the norm?

I really am starting to question what it means to be ‘normal’ (perish the thought); for all the painful irritations associated with shingles I cannot honestly say that I’m feeling much different to what has become my ‘normality’, except perhaps the headache is slightly more persistent.

What has really been brought home to me is the fact that I have been ‘unwell’ for so long; the abnormal becomes the norm!

Keeping an eye on things

Well, I decided to take the plunge and see my GP this morning. The bruise-like spots around the bridge of my nose and my eyebrow seemed to be causing a constant headache and slightly blurring my vision. Diagnosis shingles so, now, on top of my other medications I have to take antiviral tablets five times per day and, a corresponding application of anti-viral eye ointment. Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with the ophthalmologist at the District Hospital.

All of a sudden my life becomes a hectic social whirl, pure sensory overload! As Heterocon commented yesterday, “Life may get tedious at times but, never boring”.

Bloggers Block

Having spent the last forty minutes or so sat on my hands, to ease an ache in my wrists and elbows, I’ve now permitted their release to knock out a little blog posting.

Unfortunately, a fog in my mind has taken over from the discomfort in the wrist; although the flesh may be willing the mind’s too numb to supply the appropriate words.

Saving for a rainy day

Just like bananas, they come in bunches. Tonight, this seems to be the case with terrestrial TV here in the UK; the programmes we’d like to watch this evening are on at 9.10pm ‘Sea of Souls’[BBC1], 9.10pm ‘The Talented Mr Ripley’[BBC2], 9.30pm ‘Rosemary & Thyme’[ITV1] and, 9.10pm ‘CSI:NY’[Five]. Also showing at 9.10pm on Channel 4 is ‘Sleepy Hollow’ but, fortunately we already have that on DVD. So, choices must be made so, I think we’ll watch the first, record the second to DVD, record the third to VCR and give the fourth a miss. It really is quite exhausting working out such action plans.

We’ll also be recording ‘The Pianist’ [10.45pm ITV1]; it’s a bit like saving up for a rainy day.

It’s certainly not that often we feel so spoilt for choice. Just because we don’t follow any of the “soaps”, I often get the feeling that we don’t watch much TV but, I must admit that it’s an enjoyable pastime when my emotional stamina is up to it.

Keeping the Faith

Today, my alter-ego Heterocon decided to rejoice and be glad. So, I rejoice in my stiff neck, clogged sinuses and rheumy eyes, in order to keep the faith. I give thanks that I felt incapable of emerging from the duvet lair until long after my beloved had ventured out, for her first appointment of the morning but, the thanks are even more heartfelt that she is now back home.

Concentration is rather low-level today and, although I switched on the Afternoon Play felt incapable of following plot, characters, or anything else. Still, I did manage to do a posting on Heterocon as well as this one and, for that I am grateful.