Merry Christmas and Happy 2017!

Merry Christmas, all, and may you have a wonderful holiday of food, family and festivities! And also too – have a wonderful 2017.  Read books, be kind to strangers, fight for causes good and varied, make more cake, and generally let’s both hope for, and work for, a better world tomorrow! Until then….

Five Years Later….

“So… attack!” said the teacher. “Um… ok,” said the students.  “Which of us is attacking?” “Both!” “But um… who’s defending?” “Both!  Attack!” Nervous eyes flew round the room.  Did he mean… did he mean actually fight?  Like… attack each other… and try to win? “Keep it slow, keep it controlled, think about your feet, look after each other… and attack!” re-iterated the teacher as wide-eyed glances flicked between the assembled students. “Ok…” The three of us exchanged another round of ‘oh hell’ eyes.  Two of us probably had to do something.  No one really wanted to be first.  Eventually partners …

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The Price of My Time

If you are a busy professional in the working day who wishes to tell me that I am wonderful, the average cost for you is £5 per hour. If you wish to abuse me because of your fearful, fearful state of mind, I charge approximately £4.70. None of this involves writing books.  That is a different economic calculation.  But the maths looks something like this…. Every so often – with increasing regularity in fact – I am invited to meet people who have read my books and will tell me that I’m awesome.  This is a very lovely thing and …

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Your Body Is Worth Everything!!!

Is anyone else really enjoying the commercialisation of individual value at the moment?  It’s beautiful.  It’s awesome.  It’s… … a wee bit insidious, in it’s way.  In it’s affable sorta way. Take, for example, the recent trends in ads by companies like Boots the Pharmacy, Dove (soaps and shampoos) and various fashion outlets including Selfridges and M&S, those bastions of women-who-wear-navy-blue-with-style.  After years of trying to sell anorexia to women; after years of explaining that sexual satisfaction only came with a certain kind of face cream and by wearing magic knickers that transformed your backside into a carved bit of …

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So 2016

I’ve been thinking about grief. On the morning the UK voted to leave Brexit, I woke up, checked the news, and started swearing.  For three days, I lost time, felt distracted, unable to concentrate or work, emotional and drained. On the night of the US Presidential Election, I went to bed nervous, woke at 2 a.m., and couldn’t stop myself.  I had to know how it was going.  I turned on the news, and there was the beginning of the end, in full swing, as state after state turned red, and the US elected the single most corrupt, bigoted, misogynist, …

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