Mario, Get Yer Guns

What are the odds I will go off subject in this post? Still, I will try.  After reading yet another article calling yet another videogame a "burglary sim", I had to put pen to blog.  Why? Because its lazy journalism, sloppy and winds me up. Hell, the same could be thrown at television but for some peculiar reason we don't do that.
I don't watch television but from the clips I've seen on the interwebz and things I hear on forums, nothings changed from when I did used to watch it. Scheming, plots, adultery, revenge, murder, and bloodshed. Its all there, played out by glamorous women and guys with chiselled physiques. Gotta look your best when you're knee deep in sin right?
And so it goes that videogames have followed that same path. Those age restrictions on the box aren't there to make the case look pretty, videogames have matured and its illegal for soft parents to give in ("for ten minutes peace") and buy wee Jimmy a shooter with a bloody big red 18 stamped on the box. Is that ten minutes peace really worth a hefty fine? Dont think it doesn't happen because it does (more often than you'd care to think).
So we have a burglary sim now do we? What about Grand Theft Auto? Armed robbery sim? Dishonored? A murder sim?
These are games fer Crissakes, but the way some journalists describe them make them sound like guides on how to raise hell for real. One of my current favourite videogames is Thief, a game where, yep you guessed it, you skulk around an 18th century London inspired city, pilfering gold watches and clubbing hapless city guards over the noggin. But I don't play the game to train as a cat burglar, anymore than a fan of 24 watches the show in hope of becoming a CIA agent (or whatever the heck Kiefer Sutherland is meant to be).
And what frustrates me more is that I read this on a gaming website not the Daily Mail  (where one expects such petty sniping). Honestly, videogames have become a massive business in these last few years and deal with mature subjects. Can't we be at least as responsible when writing about them?

Second Chance Saloon

So footballer Ched Evans is freed from prison after serving half of a five year sentence for rape. You read that right: rape. And due to the nonsense from his teams fans, his victim has had to get a new identity and move away. Now I like to think I'm a fair man, people screw up and they deserve a second chance. But there exists a group of crimes so heinous and vile, that allowing for a second chance is is something not easily given.
And sexual offences are among the. Evans hasn't even acknowledged his crime and carries on as if nothing happened. He'll just go back to his thousands of pounds a week job while the victim has had to change her life completely. Football, indeed most sport, are funny old things. If you bang in the goals and bring home those trophies, you can get away with anything. And this isn't jealousy over his mega wage, the guy is now a convicted rapist and if I was a supporter of his club, I wouldn't want him playing again. But then I wouldn't put anything past knuckle dragging supporters, success is all, despite having a rapist in the team.
How Evans can even show his face again is beyond me. If it were me, I'd lock myself in my home and never show my face again. The thought of appearing in front of a stadium filled with thousands of people wouldn't cross my mind. But then people like murderers and rapists aren't like us. There's not a shred of remorse or decency in their bones.
Supporters who are standing by him ought to be ashamed of themselves.

Auld Hamish Went Away

Prime Minister makes heartfelt speech

Its all been said before. Politicians, singers, actors, bloggers, even the shy walking-the-dog types who do little more than gaze out at the seas, minds content in a happier place. So Dai Jakes will cast his shilling into the cap as well. This week Scotland votes yes/no to Independence which will herald a new 'dawn' for Great Britain. We will all be affected: Wales, England, Northern Ireland, not just the Scots (and by the way, it is Scots and not "Scotch" as some (usually foreigner) have written. Scotch is a drink).
Now as a proud Welshman, and 100% Celt, one would think I'd be up for this Independence lark. Who knows? If it worked out for Scotland, then us Welsh could try it too and in my heart it all sounds grand. Its perfect in fact, I can feel my Welsh soul dance with the music it was born with.
But alas my head thinks opposite. My mind is filled with doubts and what ifs? and is weighed down by the simple fact that should Scotland choose to break from the union, hundreds of years of history will be shattered. Not forgotten, or cast away like some moth eaten rug but definitely shattered.
We have defended this great island for over a thousand years as one, and during two world wars our fathers and grandfathers fought not as Scos or Welsh but as British. We were, we are Great Britain, stronger and better together. There is too much risk in splitting such a wonderful nation who lets not forget has given the world so much.
As Stephen Glover writes today in the Mail Online:

"I know I will grieve on Friday morning if my country, Britain, has been voted out of existence. Millions of people will feel likewise. The end of the nation that has done more than any other to shape the modern age, and saved the free world as recently as 1940, is really too big an idea to get one’s mind around."

I 100% agree with Mr Glover in this. Our tabloids speak of a 'Broken Britain'? Come the end of this week, and should Scotland go its own way, then we shall know of a broken Britain. And I for one will mourn for it.

Fishing for Holllywood

Stranger things happen of course, afterall we inhabit a planet filled with miracles and disaster, so it wouldn't surprise me to learn that some sharp suited movie Joe with a fondness for the marching powder buzzed by this old blog of mine from time to time. Hell if nothing else, the hunger of their egos would make this a nailed on certainty. More nailed than a whale God with rare jewels for eyeballs, and bones crafted the calcified souls of super architects but let us get back to earth. Im straying too far from this post.
Can I just say, nay plead with the remains of a quickly greying youth to not be tricked into believing that a reboot/remake of American Ninja, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, They Live and Commando would be good idea. They won't, and you can take that to your overstuffed Century City banks (which if not careful will be remembered for the dosh they made rather than its art). Which would be a shame because while financial reward is itself very nice nothing will dim the glow of producing great work, be it movies, books or music.
Remakes might sound like goof idea, we all remember the glory glory years of the 1980s where it seemed most films were touched by gold but while we know a remake of something like Jaws would be awesome if we were able to capture that creative spark of 1975, we know (with a good del of sadness) that we never will. The most world's most famous shark is born, and attempting a reboot of such an iconic movie would be like mining for gold in a sugar field. Impossible.
Come on, we've seen enough remakes by now to realise that making them is disaster waiting to happen. Move on Hollywood, studios will be making remakes of remakes next (something that would surprise me not in the slightest). Mark my words: movie remakes only serve to dilute the magic of the original.

Here are some personal favourites of mine that ought be left well alone:

American Ninja
They Live
Killer Klowns from Outer Space
Cobra
Point Break
Commando

Mess with these 80s cult classics at thy peril! In fact, better yet, don't mess with them at all. Ever. Lest the ghost of the late Steve James Cpl. Curis Jackson return to karate the movie directors.

Joan Rivers

As is customary these dys, the death of American comedienne Joan Rivers at the age of 81 was announced on Twitter like the mad, new town cryer that social meia has become. Chances are, if there's a story to be told, good and bad, then you'll rread it on Tweetville before BBC or CNN. Its the pulse of a new generation. Joan used it herself, she was one of the only few celebrities I follow on that site (gossip and bickering between two famous clowns isn't my idea of fun).
I will actually miss her Tweets partly because, much like myself, she spoke her mind, offend or please and I greatly admire that. Don't stab folk in the back, give them both barrels in the chest but im in danger of losing my thread of thought here so back to Joan. If you visit her Twitter page now, it lies eerily quiet, like that of late director Michael Winner (another famous Twitter user).
Words at end, reminding us about our oh so fragile mortality. Enjoy every passing minute, life is for the living.
I sent Ms Rivers a mesage via Twitter once. It was on her last birthday, and being a fan of older ladies, I remarked to her of how great she still looked despite being in her eigheieth year. Of course being a global star, having to deal with hundreds of people every day, I wasn't sad I didn't get a reply. Indeed looking back, if she did read it (and these people have egos the size of war ships), she probably thought I was 'trolling' and having a dig at her age.
Well Joanie, if you are able to read blogs from wherever it is you have departed to, know this: I wasn't kidding around, I genuinely thought you beautiful and a rare instance of plastic surgery actually working for a change. It turns most into melted gargoyles more fitting to sit on a cathedral tower than appear on a red carpet but Joan Rivers was different. God knows this planet needs more people unafraid to speak their mind.

Rest in peace Joan, I shall miss ya gorgeous x

Cinderella's Shady Trail

As a gamer now for over three decades...hold on, let me say that again, gamer for over three decades gulp! *reaches for the Botox* It is fair to say that I have played more than my fair share of videogames. Ever since rescuing Xenon princess Roz in Zorgon's Revenge on the Oric 1 inbetween my half hearted attempts at homework, I was addicted (and despite what Daily Mail scribes would have you believe, videogames have never done me any harm).
During that time, I must have spent a gazillion hours shooting zombies, raiding toms and solving bizarre puzzles (cheers Silent Hill). And so its natural that from spending so much time with your pixelated hero/villain, a bond is forged. A bond which makes turning a successful game into an equally successful movie very difficult, and rarely is a director enough of an alchemist to pull it off. Indeed from all the game to film releases, it is only the Resident Evil movies that have held my interest (and even this is because I find them entertaining in their own right and not because they are equal to the cool of the videogames).
So when I heard about The Last of Us movie that is evidently in the works, my little 'ol heart, that heart which has shared many a nervous jump with Joel and Ellie, was not exactly thrilled. And who can blame me? I still shudder when anyone mentions Street Fighter and Kylie Minogue in the same sentence. And less said of Uwe Boll the better.
All the best men know. Even the genius that is Hideo Kojima, who is a major movie fan, will admit deep down to being a tad wary of turning his beloved Metal Gear Solid into a motion picture because he knows like the rest of us know, 9/10 films of games are garbage. Just drop the aforementioned Mr Boll's name into a conversation with Kojima san, you'll get the picture (or not if you happen to be Uwe Boll). Why do you think a MGS movie has not been made yet? Despite being offered multi million deals? Hideo understands man.
Like I said, we gamers forge a special bond with characters over many hours of play, and seeing those "magic moments" reduced to a 2 hour romp ruins it. Take games like Skyrim and Fallout 3 for example. How many hours do we spend in the company of our newly created badass? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say 200+ hours. You go through many different challenges together, notching up a heroes portion of triumph (and deaths), and all personal to you the gamer. Were someone to come along and turn Skyrim into a fantasy film it would fail, and fail hard because none of your private victories would feature. All those little things you see/hear/feel as you clutch your controller and add up to make a unique overall experience is gone, replaced with a directors vision which so often feels like huge disappointment. No more hero than a bit part player relegated to the side lines, and to be blunt, it f**king SUCKS! Its almost like the movie is invading "our" space. (Similar to books but games go even deeper as they put YOU in the action).
So forgive my failure to get all hard and excited (ooer!) over another game-to-film cash grab, but history shows we videgame fans are always better off sticking with the game. We have too much time invested to see it be reduced a film extra.

Young Heels

Here come the girls. Girls, girls. Girl power! This is the face of the Prime Ministers cabinet reshuffle, and if he thinks its going to win him more votes, and another crack at running the country after the next General Election, he needs his bumps felt. Preferably with a mallet. Its a PR stunt and its as transparent as the lacy negligee I'd like to see Est
Well yes...ahem, nearly got carried away there but you get the picture. This reshuffle is simply a wheeze by the Conservatives, a paper attempt to make them look like hip young Dons of equality.
Trouble is, after reading comments under the news articles and hearing radio callers all morning, this political caper is dead in its feet. Its newly high heeled feet. When will Cameron and his type realise that for the most part we Brits DON'T CARE about gender, as long as the person in the job is capable? You can tick all the 'populist' boxes you want but truth is, skill and experience are a winning combination and should always be put before something trivial as gender. And replacing a warhorse with a pretty, young filly to appeal to voters is pure folly, and will be sussed out in a flash. A half baked stunt which is doomed to failure.
We don't need this. Good lord, the Conservative party is the first party to give Britain its first ever female Prime Minister in Margaret Thatcher. A woman who as history knows as the Iron Lady, was respected (and feared) by all. One of our greatest leaders (of course being politics, this will be debated ad ininitum). And we still remember Boudicca too. She might have kicked ass hundreds of years ago but time's keen wand cannot fade the names of great and fearsome leaders.
We Brits KNOW about girl power. Proper girl power and we shouldnt be conned by the governments latest trick.

Cheer Up, England

So England have limped from the 2014 World Cup in Brazil with more whimper than bang but cheer up! At least England's fans have the new Premiership season to look forward to, where they can enjoy watching overseas players parading the skills and "banging in" those all important goals. Fans will also have the pleasure of seeing less deserving but equally overpaid English players plod around the pitch, desperately trying to emulate Johnny Foreigner (usually without much success). Cool huh?

Oh and Wayne Rooney apologises to fans? Yes well, I can understand that. Its like me apologising for losing a round of golf to Tiger Woods.

Cold Break before Disney

"Kittens' skulls cracked open and electrodes inserted into their brains in shocking series of experiments at 9 UK universities including Cambridge"

Its certainly not headline to win friends, and positively horrifies a wildlife lover like me (as a boy growing up in a wild, green corner of Wales, I adored animals and even attempted to save newts when winter froze our ponds over). I am not exactly thrilled with animal experiments and would, like most caring human beings, prefer living in a world where such barbarism is not necessary but the cold fact is we don't.
Strip away the Disney blinkers and fluffy hearts and the world reveals its naked colour: life is hard, often cruel and extremely unforgiving. This isn't a place of abundant mercy or good deeds. Sure kindness exists but by and large in order to survive a lifetime on planet Earth, you need to be hard or risk being crushed like a toy soldier. (Im really selling this planet to any alien that might read blogs huh?)
Oh we try our damndest to dull the pain, using reality television, videogames, movies and social media in a vain attempt to ignore the raw knocks but it remains in place no matter what. Life is hard, nobody ever said it would be fair. Bogeymen exist at every turn in the form of cancer, dementia, etc and if experiments on animals lead to a breakthrough cure then I'll roll with it regardless of the genuine pity I feel. I dont wish to sound "combatative" here but I take it those against experiments wouldn't accept breakthrough treatment?
Its so easy using mere words, and ive heard some folks claim that they would prefer to suffer before an innocent creature, which is all very admirable but im afraid I cannot believe it. Like I said, words are easy with no threat of danger but if faced with a very real and very lethal terminal illness I wonder if opinions would change? I'd wager good money on it being so.
Death has ruined many a brave souls intention when faced with the final chapter of their lives because you know...death is DEATH and nobody in receipt of a clean bill of health wants to die. I don't care how many dogs or animal charities they help. And take it from someone who has come close to breathing their last: its frightening (to say the least) and most folks would give a barrel load of kittens in order to extend their mortality. Even by just a day.
Add in the fact that 21st century morals are pretty screwed when you consider how much meat most people eat while they condemn things like hunting, and things look even more grim for those purty looking cats. Nobody likes the idea of scientists sticking needles into animals in the name of medicine but if the endgame is triumph over cancer then its worth it no? I realise this subject is like a cold, hard slap in the chops that sobers us up from our coffee laced, fluffy fairytale and the hangover is one we would rather not face but still it remains.

A Tribute to Victims

With the shocking killing of Leeds teacher Ann Maguire, who was stabbed to death in her classroom and reports of another botched execution in America (step forward Oklahoma), this is a week which proves (as if needed) that murder is never far away. Naturally it rekindles the age old debate about what society should do with its murderers.
Regular readers of the Dai Jakes blog will know that in the past I have favoured capital punishment and in my heart I can see reason why I do, but alas my head is slowly turning toward the belief that a life sentence is more appropriate ('life' in bold because I mean a full life tariff as opposed to free in fifteen to twenty years). And while some suggest a memorial for Drummer Lee Rigby, I cannot imagine a more fitting tribute than making life in jail mandatory for all murderers. Nothing against stone memorials to honour victims, I just feel that tough and fair Justice is more useful and benefits society whole. A force to help crush the bloody hand of murder, making everyone safer.
Indeed the more I think about it, the better idea it sounds. In Britain we only have around 50 or 60 murderers serving life without parole, which is a very poor show. Murder is a most heinous, wicked crime, destroying not just victims but loved ones also and to have the majority of killers walk free after serving fifteen years, sticks in my throat a tad. More than a tad if I'm honest, it fairly makes my blood boil.
Capital punishment, whilst delivering justice to one particular thug, doesn't 'treat' the rest of them. And not everyone agrees with the death penalty. A mandatory life sentence for all however would (and while there are those who disagree with even full tariffs, their reasoning behind those beliefs are weak and anyway those types don't exist in particularly high numbers). Of course we could simply send the entire rotten bunch to the gallows but im afraid that in these 'enlightened' times of 21st century (and I am still searching for evidence of this enlightenment), that won't fly. Reality won't allow for mass executions, it takes a different kind of world for that to happen and however much people say they would hang all killers, I suspect the truth when it came to it would be different.
I think life without parole for all murderers is a wonderful idea, I absolutely believe in it 100% and think it a perfect tribute for murder victims and families. And like I say, would benefit society in general too. Marble memorials and flowery displays are all well and good but were I Jakes I, King of Great Britain (and I can dream hehe) I would create a more lasting tribute to victims of violent crime and set in law that if you commit murder in this country then the remainder of your 'mortal liberty' is forfeit. Down you shall go for life. Justice for the slain, and protection for the rest of us.

We deserve at least this, and victims certainly do.

Sharing Nirvana

There have been a lot of tributes and eulogies written for Kurt Cobain on this, the 20th anniversary of his death, some very honest in the grim reality of suicide, others relying on sensationalist bullsh!t (to 'click~bait' their cheap articles). Me? I was (shotgun)bang in the thick of it: a 23 year old metalhead who after witnessing Gun n' Roses go from L.A. dive bar to Wembley Stadium thanks to the stunning Appetite for Destruction, was now seeing Nirvana throw a sonic nailbomb into the Platinum party. (And even for a fan of bands like Motley Crue and Poison, it was comical watching glam rockers cut their girly hair and attempt a shot at grunge music).
Grunge music was a venomous shot in the 90s arm after the bourbon soaked gems of 80s hard rock, and the awesome thunder of bands like Metallica and Slayer. To a creative twenty something, seeing the almost anarchic madness unfold before my eyes was was very exciting. Up until then, mainstream radio was reluctant to play what was labelled 'heavy metal' and most imagined fans to be long haired, shabby morons headbanging to a tuneless racket (no matter how much I tried 'educating' them with Motorhead's 'Ace of Spades').
The fact I am a poet/writer who, like Kurt, was also using alcohol and drugs whilst shrugging off the norm, made me understand him even more. Hell alive, take away the magazine covers and arena tours, we could have been the same lost kid, looking for a voice. Neither of us afraid to write about misery and death, me with my poetry, Cobain with his beautiful music (and it is beautiful. Afterall, agony has a unique glamour all of its own.
Nirvan were a great band, 'Nevermind' a permanent rainbow's arch.
I was thrilled (at first) when Nevermind shot them into the wider universe in 1991. It was the new Back In Black, Master Of Puppets, the fresh faced De Niro, eager to show a previously ignorant world just how pretty and hard (or pretty hard?) we liked it. This melodious slab of screeching guitars and orchestrated catastrophe topped with singed vocals was King. A shabby Elvis come to show that angry music could indeed win over the doubters. Heavy metal, punk, grunge, call it whatever, it suddenly became accepted, cool even (insert shocked smiley here). Nobody groaned when Nirvana came on the radio, or pub jukebox.
Here was a band lifted straight from the pages of Metal Hammer, suddenly appearing in 'serious' music magazines and even the 'Art/Culture' sections of broadsheet newspapers (where is that shocked smiley again)? It didn't stop there either (of course music fans know grunge didn't start with Nirvana but we won't go into that here), and soon Pearl Jam, Soundgarden et al were sharing the limelight.
A shame it was so short lived but then, and without being too overly dramatic, life's highs (both natural and chemical) and butterflies always find the quickest path to the morgue. Savour the good times for they are fleeting and seldom hang around to see an encore. So it was with Kurt and his boys (although the boys/songs remain). I was drinking in a pub in my hometown in west Wales when I heard news of Cobains suicide in 1994, and it soured my drink some. I always knew Kurt was a reluctant rockstar, you didn't have to be a genius to know that reading some interviews but suicide? By shotgun? It seemed so vulgar, especially after that gentle accoustic performance on MTV Unplugged.
Some would say it was a fitting end . After Kurt's suicide, the banshee guitars and murderous drum solos could retire back into denim covens where Lemmy was God, and trendy pop lovers could breathe a sigh of relief again as dance floors reverted to monotonous digital, pulse~like tunes. Poetry in music was gone, its chief bard, a shabby Shakespeare dead by his own hand.
And you want to know something? The young Dai Jakes was glad (though not by the frontman's passing obviously). Glad because I wasn't really happy sharing 'my' music for long. Initially I was proud to have the worlds ear cocking its head to grunge and heavy metal, it proved we were more than Jack Daniels soaked ruffians but it also felt like an invasion of privacy. I had something good, something cool and while it was nice sharing, it did feel good to have it back again.

Now we plum haired, coffee eyed darlings of the leather nights can go back to making magic between ourselves.

Toodle pip for now!

Joe Moral the Rat

"I'm going queer in the morning, ding dong the boys are gonna smile.


Apologies to Alan Jay Lerner for my taking liberties with his lyrics (huge fan of My Fair Lady by the way) but strange as it sounds, these were the lines which popped into my head earlier while perusing the tabloid headlines announcing the first wave of gay weddings.
Yes indeedy do! Today is the day! And before this blog goes up in a holy fireball, allow Mr Jakes to spell it out: gay couples in England and Wales can now legally get married. Indeed eager to celebrate this, one of the first homosexual marriages took place at midnight in Brighton and I wish them much happiness. Now for the most part, straight folk are not too bothered and woke up this morning like they do every Saturday; thinking about this afternoons shopping or football before getting themselves airbrushed for a night on the WDK (or whatever 'chic' sugary water is the current tipple for trendy weekend warriors). Its no big deal and my guess is, they (like me) will wish gay couples all the best before getting on with life (there's a Premiership to be won afterall).
It is 2014. Equality is king, and while there are a good many who oppose gay marriage, someone ought to tell them the 'fight' is over and little is to be gained by voicing their opinions (which might sound ironic coming from a blogger Laughs Out Loud). Remember, it is not so long ago that women were fighting for equal rights, and people were sold in chains. Wake up! Those dark days are behind us now, belonging to a time best left in chains of its own, to fester in its ignorance.
Of course taking this post 'solo', readers might come to the conclusion that Dai Jakes is a raving liberal, yet in the past ive been called such gems as "the bastard son of Peter Hitchens and Rush Limbaugh" (now that would be an interesting date *guffaws*) so I am hardly of liberal stock. I just cannot see, or be bothered with, the hate. Its not interfering with my life, and its not like gay marriage is compulsory, so live and let live. When all is said and done, gay marriage doesn't hinder a heterosexuals life but could improve the happiness of a loving gay couple so hush and let them be happily married.
I for one can't abide intolerance. And neither am I fond of irrational outbursts. Examples? Go online to one of the newspaper sites carrying this story (so pretty much every British one) and in the Comments section underneath we can read outraged loons spout things like, "its against God! We will burn in hell!" Or, "disgraceful! Our morals are dead!"
Forgetting that, last time I checked, 74% Brits do not bother going to church so weird how suddenly God makes an appearance. As for our newly discovered moral guardians? Yeah sure, they convince me...until obeying this recently acquired morality iconveniences them in some way.
Listen, the esteemed Mr Jakes isn't perfect and doesn't have the answers to everything but I do know a couple of things: gay marriage is not a plague upon our land, and humanity won't implode in a ball of goodly fire if we allow it. So my advice to naysayers would be ~ lead your own life, cause no bother to others and if you can't be nice toward others, be silent. To the new surge of bible thumpers? Well, hope to see you guys down at the pews tomorrow. It is a Sunday remember!

Toodle pip for now!

Welshman and the Great Escape

Brave: Great Escape

We have all seen the movie, The Great Escape, and cheered on Steve McQueen's character Hilts as he attempts to sail over barbed wire on a motorbike at the end (though that bit was Hollywood fiction). Certainly I was not alone in feeling a wave of claustrophobia wash over me during the tunnel scenes, as these courageous prisoners of war tunnelled their way to freedom? And who could forget the Gestapo gunning down 50 of the escapees after being told to get out of the truck to "stretch their legs" while on their way back to camp (or so they thought)?
The Great Escape has many memorable scenes and though not all based on fact, helped make it a classic. (It is easily one of Mr Jakes' favourite films). Of course the main story IS very much true and took place 70 years ago on this very day. Of those who broke out, only three reached safety, 73 were recaptured, and 50 shot. Such heroic souls! No finer example of fire in the human spirit, and may they all rest in peace.
In the photograph above, the reader can see Cyncoed~born Brian Evans (left) a Welshman who was part of this historic escape. Sadly Mr Evans was one of those men murdered by Gestapo but it fills me with pride that one of my countrymen is a figure in this glorious tapestry.

Nationalities of the 50 executed prisoners

21 British
6 Canadian
6 Polish
5 Australian
3 South African
2 New Zealanders
2 Norwegian
1 Belgian
1 Czechoslovak
1 Frenchman
1 Greek
1 Lithuanian

Last Of The Dark

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living ~ Cicero

Death has never been a solemn subject to me, it is has never been taboo. It is fact that I have attended more funerals than weddings but not once have I shed a single tear (and these were close family members). Now before I am accused of being "unfeeling", allow me to explain. I have such a strong belief of a sweet Afterlife, I believe we ALL go there, good or bad, that whenever I find myself standing graveside I am so convinced the departed have "ascended to a better place" (to be glib about it) that no sadness will emerge. Not even by force. No amount of pleasant memories, or clenching fists or straining veins will tempt sorrow from its den.
At times I have wondered if I was simply cold or indifferent toward death but as the years turn into sheaths of grey, I realise my emotions are in check, their pulse alive and screaming. I believe. That is as simple as it gets.
Indeed if I was stood before a Judge about to sentence me to death, or a doctor about to deliver my cancer act in deadly script, I would more than likely grin in reply. (Of course I don't know 100% for sure of that smirking reply but I could lay my heart on it being 95% certain). Naturally I am wary of DYING but the actual DEATH part? Im no more afraid of it than razor steel is to flesh. Or a crocodile to butterfly (but I am being blown off course now).
For me, death has no end and therefore no sorrow. My bones might miss the company and mortal flashes of the deceased but I know, nay feel, that as the coffin is being lowered into its earthly haven or obliterated by flame, that the soul of Man is rising like a stunned eagle into realms where even the finest pearls would look as lowly as paupers rags. Shrugging off mortality and disease as it lifts unto the sanctity of unknown. And these brief shards of endless joy penetrate my mind so deeply, embedding themselves like euphoric clots, that sadness is obliterated, unable to bring me to my knees.
I have my humanity, feelings, and good many things will reduce me to tears but weeping for the dead is beyond my hearts grasp. I think too much, believe I even know too much and doubt can never get over the threshold of my imagination/beliefs to even begin to try and shatter these ideas. Of course every man will have weak moments, and being a man prone to sometimes rampant, wild emotion there are often times when all I am able to imagine after my pulse is done is a wall of black, blinding in its finality.

Not often I am happy to report. Often a good dose of Welsh coastal air or the sight of a buzzard hunting for its supper will remedy that.

White Dee: Assassin of DWP

We have a programme here in Britain called "Benefits Street", a cheap and tawdry show (though ive never watched it myself) about the every day lives of lazy good for nothings sucking the country dry by claiming benefits while drinking, thieving and generally dossing around being nothing. There are genuine claimants but these are not them. All they seem to do is hang around a street doing zilch (besides boozing and smoking). Like ive said, I don't watch it but ive read enough in the media to get a general idea of what these people are about: scrounging.
And now would you believe, we seem to have made a celebrity out of one of the morons in it, someone who goes by the name of 'White Dee'. Dear God it sounds like a monicker for an assassin! "Beware the White Dee! Shadowy hitman of the department of work and pensions!"
The odious looking woman is everywhere: radio, papers, television, magazines. Have we gone stark raving mad? Turning a bone idle slob into a celebrity, it boggles the mind it truly does. I realise this world has become obsessed with celebrity but to make one out of some benefit scrounger is lunacy of the highest order. And nothing short of obscene. Is this the way we are heading? Just pluck any old toe rag off the street and make them a star, depressing to think we have sunk this far.
The honest work hunters and genuine disabled ought to be very angry with this oaf, she is exactly the type of person that is giving all the ammunition for welfare cuts because as far as the government is concerned every person on benefits are like her so make no mistake, all of you claimants will suffer.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, should be applauding the awful White Dee. She is a pox on us all.

Have a good day all!

Benefits Street

LBC radio have made me mad this morning (and im usually a fan of the 6am show). They were discussing some ew television programme called 'Benefits Street', but I couldn't take it seriously because the amount of bile spouted forth was ridiculous. And let me first say, I don't claim any benefits so this nonsensical rubbish aimed at benefits claimants by pompous radio presenters shouldn't bother me, but even I can see that not everyone on the dole or on sickness benefit are useless scroungers like the one that sounds like are in Benefits Street. I wouldn't watch such garbage so im only going on what callers to the station said about the show.
I have friends on Twitter (I refuse to call them 'followers') who are genuinely disabled, and shame on anyone who would dare called them feckless scroungers. Dear God, I can feel my blood pressure rising with every word I type. Haven't these journalists heard about the tragic stories of disabled folk who have committed suicide because of these government clamp downs on sickness benefits? They ought to have, they've written the stories. Or do they think so little of them that the tales are forgotten as soon as they are in the paper?
Of course the lead swingers and scroungers exist. One only has to see the scruffy urchins swigging lager at 11am outside Weatherspoons on a week day to have proof of this (and these are not workers having a swift pint). Wherever you turn in life, from top to bottom, you will find chancers and the dishonest. Sadly its human nature. But my friends, its not all, how could it be? I don't know the figures of how many are claiming benefits, but are we seriously suggesting they are all cheating the system? Certain presenters on LBC radio seem to be doing so. Methinks their former tabloid urge to shock has completely taken over the rational part of their brains.
Its not as easy as benefits = cheats and the stories are easy to Google: tragic tales of folk with terminal cancer being forced to work due to ATOS passing them fit, disabled soldiers coming home from Afghanistan being denied Welfare assistance, and even working single mothers having housing benefit stopped because they earn £2 over some limit or other. The list is near endless. Are these feckless scroungers? No! Because not everyone is swinging the lead!
I never once imagined I would be speaking out on this subject, or feel so annoyed by certain attitudes toward it, because as I have pointed out, I do not claim benefits and am not in that 'world' but LBC radio have forced my hand. I cannot stay silent while ignorant bullies in mainstream media trample all over these poor people (the honest claimants not the lager louts). Social media has shown me that there IS an honest side to 'Benefits Street' and we, especially government and journalists, wold be unwise to ignore it. Or worse, label everyone as idle layabouts.