95k

Keep going!

95k in a day!

And tomorrow!

And what happens when you just need a bit more!

University for the kids. Plus cars plus vacations plus their entire lives!

A business for the kids?

A long-term loan for the kids?

A loan for the kids' spouses?

Summats for the grandchildren?

After all, it's not like he ever worked.

Sew the seeds, my friend. Sew the seeds.

You'll be tracked down.

Unless you act like a fucking man and wake up.

Otherwise, when you've gone, you've fucking gone. The markets are hard, but fair, right?

It's all about what we are worth.

Larkin about

I thought it would last my time -
The sense that, beyond the town,
There would always be fields and farms,
Where the village louts could climb
Such trees as were not cut down;
I knew there'd be false alarms

In the papers about old streets
And split level shopping, but some
Have always been left so far;
And when the old part retreats
As the bleak high-risers come
We can always escape in the car.

Things are tougher than we are, just
As earth will always respond
However we mess it about;
Chuck filth in the sea, if you must:
The tides will be clean beyond.
- But what do I feel now? Doubt?

Or age, simply? The crowd
Is young in the M1 cafe;
Their kids are screaming for more -
More houses, more parking allowed,
More caravan sites, more pay.
On the Business Page, a score

Of spectacled grins approve
Some takeover bid that entails
Five per cent profit (and ten
Per cent more in the estuaries): move
Your works to the unspoilt dales
(Grey area grants)! And when

You try to get near the sea
In summer . . .
It seems, just now,
To be happening so very fast;
Despite all the land left free
For the first time I feel somehow
That it isn't going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole
Boiling will be bricked in
Except for the tourist parts -
First slum of Europe: a role
It won't be hard to win,
With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely; but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.

Turn

Turn-ups and turn-offs
First shags and fist fights
Mates’ burds and barmaids’ smiles
Cleavage, arse-cracks in church aisles
Train lines and suicide
Taxi ranks and rain lashed miles
Lager tops and rollies
Tank tops and rallies
Donkey jackets and toilet bowls
Broken windows and bullet holes
Dreams and nightmares
Tough questions, hard stares
Make up and make over
Saying ‘yes’ buys a baby stroller
Wake up and realize
It’s all shit
And nothing but lies

Pig Brother

AIDS was the start, for me. When I was very young, there was a diet product called Aids. That made sense – it was an aid. AIDS didn’t sound that bad at first. Maybe that was the idea, like asking people to leave a smoke-filling auditorium in a ‘quiet and orderly fashion’. Whatever you do, don’t yell, “Fire!”

At some point, naming things – from consumer products to epidemics – became a bit of a laugh. I won’t bore you with lists that you can well draw up yourselves.

And now we have swine flu.

It is influenza, that much is for sure. But it has never been passed from pig to pig, much less pig to human. It has, clearly, spread from human to human, apparently beginning in Mexico.

For all the sense it makes, it may as well have been called rat flu.

Maybe that’s been reserved for the next one.

Unspeakable

Language is the origin and the end.

We do not think. We use language.

This is where all the problems begin.

They never end.

"If God knows everything then he or she or it must know what I am going to do next, which means I have no free will, which means none of it is my fault, which means it is all God's fault. If he or she or it does not know, then he or she or it is not God."

Language.

Anyone or anything or anybody thinking without language can easily understand the concept of God.

Mathematicians use equations. They write them down. Idiots use language. They write it down.

The Divine is not an equation, much less a poem or an image.

The Divine is simple.

The Divine is absurd.

The Divine is complex.

The Divine is all.

The Divine is patience.

The Divine is waiting.

Joy

Stand up for your self.

Stand up for your beliefs.

Stand up for your dignity.

Stand up for your future.

Stand up for your name.

Stand up for your legacy.

Stand up for your loved ones.

Stand up for love.

Stand up for feeling.

Stand up for the weak.

Stand up for the poor.

Stand up for the needy.

Stand up for what is right.

Stand up.

Flaunt

You’ve got it. This bra helps you flaunt it with revolutionary, light-gel technology you won’t find anywhere else! Sexy, seamless styling accentuates your curves. Decorative straps add a flash of fashion. All for amazing lift and more cleavage than ever before.

That comes from the Wonderbra site.

Now, where's the harm in that?

Here's where. I was in the gym the other day and a girl no older than 15 had decided that flaunting was her thing. It wasn't sexy. It was revolting and she was in no way to blame. Her parents are probably my age and either think she looks cool, or they don't understand the damage done by reducing everything to sexual attraction.

And what damage would that be?

- Reduced ambition in girls

- Lack of self esteem in girls

- A sense in boys that girls perform for them

- A loss of respect for each other

ad infinitum