Sunday, 1 July 2012

Memory of a not-so-free festival

'Is it an interesting list' he asks?
'Na, mate.  I'm just scribbling, it's a pleasing task.'

Impressions of a festival: That is..... just a list.

Of you, me, them, us and...

All of this.

Glorious!  All these expressions:

The middle-aged-somethings, tapping thighs and nodding heads, 

Gettin' dahn wiv da musik - 'Me is kool, geezer!'
Innit, though?

Toddlers with ear mufflers
Asleep on parents' shoulders.

The crazy guy with beer boxes taped to his arms and legs.
"He's made up, mate - he's got it sorted"

And everywhere, the hippies -
With crazy hats, facepaint and tattoos
Wellies daubed with daisies 
and psychadelic walking sticks
Kids with diablos, kites and rebounders

Old and young
Ugly and virile
Cool and crass
Stoned and sober

A phantasmagoria of movement and colour

Hands up in the air.  GET YOUR HANDS UP IN THE AIR!

Friends and foes, fuckers and assholes
Go low, get high
The wastrels and the wankers and the wasters and the bankers
And the bankers trying to pretend that they're wastrels and wankers

....but they're only ever bankers.

Fascinators, fakers
Flabby and floppy
Taut and stroppy
Laid back, flaccid and erect and preppy

Waiting in line to pee in piss-filled portaloos
Dodging dubious puddles
And loo roll stuck to your shoes

And despite it all, puttin on the lippy.

It's the piss and the loo and the list and the queue and the me and the you.

It's all of it.

It's the asking and the no-ing
The hippy and the dude, the him and the her.

Banker and wanker
Watcher and waiter
Doer and sayer and.. 
The singing and the clapping
It's the trip and the fall and I saw it all
The laugh and cry and the wonder why

But nowhere is there a you and me
Just the beat, song, dance and throng
The clap and the awe and the singalong

Boys doing head stands and bikers being head bangers
No heed of age, sex or job
In front of Prince we're not even a squiqqle
All a shimmy, clap, sing and wiggle

Glorious memory of a free-form festival.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Missing God

Someone wrote on facebook a while ago:  "I miss God sometimes."

How poignant.

How utterly does that sum up people's yearning for meaning and hope; redemption and communion?

When it's obvious that there is only this, it's obvious that there's no God - (some might say there is only God, but not I, I shan't say that) - then there's nothing to pray to.  And if there's nothing to pray to, there's no point in praying, which means you have to face up to reality, this, just exactly as it is.  

You can hope.  You can.  But there's no guarantee, no provable method.  No fail-safe incantation.

Oh, and for the word 'God' insert any of the following: The Divine, The Universe, Love, Kharma, Spirit, Fate, Destiny, Consciousness, Being, The Secret, The Afterlife, Heaven, Hell, Gaia, Pan, Fairies, Angels, Zeuss, Thor, Satan, Santa Claus (or insert your own version out of an inexhaustible list).

You may be thinking - but I know there's kharma/god/fate/whatever, and you'll cite what appears to be proof.  For example, "I asked the universe to show me what to do and to guide me on the best path and I was offered that dream job last year."  Or you may even be able to put a positive spin on not getting the job you want, by saying "Well, I wanted the glamorous, high-paid job, but got offered the admin job for a charity, which really was God's way of showing me a much more meaningful way of earning my living."  But just as you may come up with evidence for a 'dream-giver', however it may be justified after the fact, someone else can come up with evidence that the universe/god/fate doesn't deliver what they wanted. And I think that if you ask most people, you'll be given evidence that seems to indicate that they don't get what they want more often than not!

For every person who meets their dream partner, there'll be another who's just gone through a bitter and messy divorce, for every person who's just lost 4 stone, toned up and is the shining picture of health there's another who's been diagnosed with agonizing, untreatable cancer. I'm not saying that there's an exact balance of so-called good versus so-called bad, but yeah, you get the picture, I hope.

It's an interesting story isn't it?

In other words - there are no guarantees.  

None. (oh, except death and taxes, and some people even argue against death... so that leaves taxes... damn.)

So, where does that leave us?

It leaves us with just this.  With not even a guarantee about WHAT it is.  Because just as someone will call something 'green', there will be someone else who swears blind that it's 'blue'.  We don't even agree on the labels.

And of course, THIS, includes all the labels as well. It includes ALL the stories. About God, and heaven and hell, and fairies, and Santa Claus, and manifesting, and hoping for something other than this, and ignoring this, and believing in all the stories, and seeing that if something needs to be believed and can also be unbelieved, then it can't be true. And seeing that there's no such thing as truth. And seeing that this is a story too. That everything we say is a story. Including the story that everything is a story.

Which means (but don't take my word for it) that if it's all stories, then there's no failsafe method for making it anything other than what it is - whatever it is.

What and how do you feel about that?  Is it a relief to be free of belief?  If all the stories are seen AS stories, is it liberating to accept that this is all there is? Or do you sometimes miss being able to wish on a star with a hope that your dreams might come true?

I'd be interested to hear your thoughts, if you've the inclination to share them.

Saturday, 7 January 2012


It's just life pointing out to life that it's just life.

It seems to be a complicated, convuluted, myriad, fantastically intricate woven world.  But it's just always simply this.

And the good news is that you never have to deal with more than this.  "This" may seem to be comprised of something very difficult, and complicated - but it is actually only ever this thought. And that's all that has to be dealt with.  Just this.  How complicated can that be?

Isn't that so very simple and amazing?  All you have to deal with is THIS.  End of.

And the bad news?

There isn't any.  Because however bad it seems to be, or is thought to be, that's all that has to be dealt with.


This isn't a concept or an idea or a theory.

It's reality.





Whatever it is - it includes the ideas about it.

So "This" also includes the labelling and the concepts about what it is.

It's always complete.

It never has anything missing.

It's very obvious.

It can't get any more obvious.

There isn't anything more obvious.

The only obvious thing is THIS.

And for no other good reason than that it seems to be on the I.J (internal jukebox) - THIS is the current musical offering from a rollercoaster ride of a film: