Full Pelt

After the fiasco of goatskingate, I came across this and it struck me as a rather amusing reflection of Theresa May’s journey into leadership.

***

She means as she means
Ripping through time in kid gloves
Around her brass neck
The chains of state
Fashioning delicacies

crappy cake

Brexits want to eat their cake
And also keep it on the plate
Though no one knows what’s in it
Since it’s constantly half-baked
But they say they know the choice they made
Because they are awake
And insist we must unite
Behind a farce because of
One mad vote
On one mad day
Like it’s our happy, rightful fate

They moan they want their country back
Because they want control
But then extol the wilful ruin of the State
And they wail they want more sovereignty
But not the duty it creates
And cry for more democracy
Then shun the constant effort that it takes

Oh they really want that crappy cake
See them queuing with their plates
To feed a country they forsake
A diet of perverse and irreversible mistakes.

Labour is, at least, a doorway to better alternatives

Jeremy Corbyn is having a pretty good campaign. Of course, this is the bit he does best so I imagine that, for all that I have criticised Jeremy Corbyn, I shall continue to do so. Still, he and his party have much reason to be pleased with this interactive media performance and the national resonance with his general narrative. Away from his truly dreadful social media fan base, his campaign has been warm, sporting, humorous, relevant and refreshing. It’s good to see some unapologetic confidence without the arrogance of the Tory disposition.

I haven’t changed my mind about what I like and don’t like about him and his team but I still hope for a Labour government. I’m really angry about his lacklustre EU referendum campaign effort and his blind alignment with the government. I worry about his ‘pacifist’ record: I wonder who he would confront and how far he would appease in international matters. I really dislike his us and them-framed punishment populism. I have a natural suspicion of all utopianists. I think there are some massive flaws in some his socio-economic intentions. I’d be anxious about his dithering managerial style and some of the people and advice with which he surrounds himself. But. But, but, but

I could live with Corbyn as the PM (for little while, anyway) because, 1) this binary choice is relative, isn’t it? And Theresa May is having a laugh: she makes Jeremy Corbyn look almost statesmanlike, let alone competent. And 2) as him winning would take a miracle in the first place, I am reassured that his administration would be tempered by the parliamentary make-up of other parties’ numbers.

What Conservatives like to describe as a “coalition of chaos” looks, to me, like several parties who, potentially, have much more in common than divides them. I’d much rather a potentially malleable Labour minority government, bolstered by a load of softBrexit/remainer parties than Theresa May’s Cons.

And if this miracle does not come to pass? I would hope for a hung parliament in which every party but Conservative/UKIP held the weight. Failing that, then May being returned with the smallest possible majority and facing a mighty, multiparty opposition.

As regular readers know, I hate Brexit and I can’t stand this tory government. They also know that, contrary to what’s being framed as popular opinion, I think that having a second referendum reflects my personal sovereignty and is a democratic right. Things I thought Brexit said it wanted more of.

I’m in the south-west and I shall be voting Liberal Democrat – even though I dislike the candidate – because I’m a remainer, wanting a second referendum and it is the best, probably only way that I can do my bit to rid a marginal seat of a Con man, whom I like, even less. If I lived in a different marginal, I’d vote for any party except UKIP that stood the best chance of defeating the Conservatives.

All domestic agendas are hopium until the shape of Brexit is known and in effect. Tories and right-wing press pretending otherwise is insulting and irresponsible and, for all the infuriating muddle-headedness of Labour, at least, even if Corbyn is indifferent, his Brexit team does seem to get the complexity and the potential for harm in a Toryfied deal/no deal.

Anyway, we can’t achieve or sustain a strong economy with an insecure, impoverished, paranoid and divided population and May would continue to inflict damage on the country whether Brexit was happening or not. She and her party have to go. Labour is, now, at least a doorway to better alternatives.

 

Ergot ergo…

Greased slopes
Long rope
Peak poise: ergot
And enough is enough, right?
Vote human, not bot.

 

Trick of the Light

Light isn’t all soft love and fluff.
It also pierces, sears and blinds,
To better find the darkest stuff,
The sharper to define.

When fear and hope and wrong and right
Turn inside out, it brokers bright
And what is stirred is why it fights
To air that which it brings to Light.

It shines with omnifarious gaze
That doesn’t favour where it bides
And draws reflection to its rays
From what begins inside.

Light isn’t only safe and kind.
Its ruthless microscopic eye
Is fixed to game the heart and mind
Of what it seeks to purify.

Shadow-shaker, mischief-maker:
Structured play, its grey delight.
Teaser, tempter, teacher, faker:
Doubt and faith give way to sight.

Silver linings; golden threads;
Black light; white night, sharp and hazy.
Tricksy slick to honest wed:
It’s madness but it isn’t crazy.

When is enough?

When is enough enough?
When will it give?
When ornamental plans
And the dead hand of hubris
Berate the precipice?
When is too much?
When the State is who hates?
When fake is the real news
And theocracy an economic startup?
When the individual and collective
Are mutually exclusive?
When is enough enough?
When Overton is the squeaky wheel
And emotion is its grease?
When it takes police with guns
to protect Democracy? And Gina
To remind us who and what it is for?
When the greater mass has barest weight
Yet bears it all
And snake-oil is imposed as fate?
When the coiled springs
Of claustrophobic souls take leap?
Too late.