Your basket is currently empty!
I have had computer problems despite supposedly being well protected. Everything ground to a halt a few days ago and the last escapee from its innards was the latest update of the book I am writing called Azimuth. The fact that it has taken me 8 years and is 600 pages long, added to the… Know More
When is it amoral to have an affair, no matter whether it be a one night stand or something a little meatier? The other day I caught a story in which a rather crestfallen man discovered, by chance and DNA testing, that all four of his children had been fathered by other men! His wife,… Know More
So, the UK election fracas has begun in earnest. Being 3000 miles away gives me a certain dispassionate objectivity these days where once I would have been spitting tacks and feeling that if the Tories get in it would mean the end of life as we know it, Captain. Like all manner of experiences, the… Know More
Imagine a grand palace where officials wear gold and purple, where the decor is splendid beyond even the capacity of a billionaire to reproduce, where there is a hushed silence everywhere and where the central figure, a man among men, is treated as though the Divine emanates from his every molecule. Meanwhile imagine a grim… Know More
I have reported occasionally on notices in the back windows of taxis and tro-tros because they contain enigmas, ironies or plain challenges to my own imagination. Two that I have seen during the past week are symbolic of key forces that are shaping Ghanaian society. If you have read previous blogs you would know that… Know More
A while back now I was in Tashkent in Uzbekistan and developed a bad back. Someone arranged for a physiotherapeutic massage. I turned up at what seemed to be a night club in the basement of a high rise block of unsympathetic concrete. The tale could be a long one. Suffice it to say that… Know More
Of course, when I was a boy there was no such thing as sats – standardised tests of children at ceratin stages of their school careers. But there was the eleven plus examination which weeded out snotty grammar school children from grubby secondary modern children. When they dropped this divisive and discriminatory examination in all… Know More
Being a beatnik; donkey jacketed, side-burned, quiffed, d.a.d, Aldermaston-marching late teenager in the early sixties, I had the utmost respect for Michael Foot and am sorry he has passed to that other place where idealism conquers cynicism and humility snuffs out ambition. I hope his soap box is a golden winged chariot so he can… Know More
There was a time when I was a lad, running wild through the fields of Durham, building dams and shooting at birds – with no success – that my father was paid cash in a small brown envelope with holes in it, each week. I don’t know at what point it happened, probably in the… Know More