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A melange of raw rage, political clarity, some hope and much good humour

I WAKE up in the middle of the night a lot now: a mixture of age and anger, I guess. And when I do, I often write poetry. Here’s the latest.
 
4 AM
 
Awake again
A buzzing brain
So angry at our race
Our planet blue
Will barbecue
‘Cos we have wrecked the place
So many wars
To great applause
And EVERY leader’s wrong
Each raging cell
Screams ‘go to hell’
In poem and in song
 
And on top of the endless misery abroad and at home we have the news that Tata Steel is going to close its operations in Port Talbot — thousands out of work at the whim of a multinational, devastating an already impoverished area of the country to safeguard the profits of a company which is far too rich already and could easily afford to sustain the workforce while the entirely necessary transition to greener production is made.

This is just the latest example of why we need a completely new definition of the word “democracy.”

Because economic democracy is just as important as political democracy: perhaps even more so, for if you are denied the right to have what you need going into your mouth, you are going to lack the human capacity to exercise the right to have what you want coming out of it.

Such decisions by capitalist bosses of all kinds, ruining thousands of people’s lives so a select few can wallow in wealth, are as fundamentally undemocratic as closing down elections or breaking up street demonstrations.

To be defined as “a democracy” a state should provide everyone with a sustainable living as a human being — enough food, shelter, education, healthcare, a guaranteed income — alongside political representation and freedom of speech. The two are inseparable.  

The GDR I toured four times before the wall came down in the 1980s did a far better job of providing the basic necessities of life to all its citizens than does Britain in 2023, but its attitude to political democracy was ridiculous and unnecessary.  

A mixed economy with proper state support can guarantee both, as it does in many countries in western Europe.

It’s only in this basket case of a nation that it is impossible — as a direct political choice by a government driven by a brutal right-wing economic ideology, facilitated by a supine media populated by spineless sycophants.

While communities lose the industries which sustain them, a child starves to death after his dad has a heart attack, people freeze on the streets or in homes they can’t afford to heat, while bankers’ bonus caps are removed and our cities are fantasy football playgrounds for an oligarch kleptocracy, the main slogan proffered by government and parroted by their hapless, servile dupes is: drumroll…

“Stop the boats.”

To hell in a handcart. What a hapless, hopeless mess. But we’re not beaten. Far from it!

Time for a book review. Black Country singer-songwriter Ian Passey, aka The Humdrum Express, much loved by BBC6 Music, is a social surrealist commentator on the minutiae of life very much in the Half Man Half Biscuit vein.

Up until now he has only released music albums (Forward Defensive, Denim in the Dugout, Ultracrepidarian Soup) but now he has committed his lyrics to the page as well, and if you are a fan of wry observations about the music industry, football, ancient TV adverts and similar topics then A New Cure for Insomnia will really be up your street.

For obvious reasons my favourite is The Gig Chatterer (“I’m socialising, why the hell should I be apologising? I’ve paid my way in”) and Message Board Hooligan will be familiar to anyone who ventures onto an online football forum. Great stuff — and available from thehumdrumexpress.com.
 
Today, Saturday 27, I’ll be at Quay Arts in the Isle of Wight, celebrating my role as Pooet in Residence at the National Poo Museum, the island’s Number Two tourist attraction.

But I’ve said enough about that in previous columns, so I’ll stop there. Cheers everyone.

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