I thought it
Would all depend on me
And so I tried hard.
But nothing I did,
Or perhaps everything I did,
Could have caused
but it did
And in the twilight
All certainty ceased.
The locusts stopped chirping.
I’m working hard on preparing my novel, ‘Pegasus’, for publication on Amazon. The novel features Lairig Leacach bothy…here’s a photo.
It’s taking longer than I thought it would!
I’m going to post a few bits and pieces about writing and language in general! Should keep me busy.
Without agenda or expectation
I seek that which
Has always been sought.
And I find nothing.
But along the way
I have discovered
not previously suspected.
And now I wonder if
What I was
Supposed to find.
The dominant narrative is a term used in sociology to attempt to describe the existence of a complex understanding of the world, controlled by the representations of the mainstream culture, be that a piece of art or a novel.
With regard to technology the dominant narrative is supplied by fiction, usually in the form of a novel but increasingly in celluloid. And it is clear that this narrative is negative in nature. Ultimately technology is seen as the antithesis of natural man. It is morally Judged as inherently evil, and its high priestess, omnipresent AI (artificial intelligence, as depicted in recent blockbusters such as I, Robot, Ex Machina and Automata) signifies the end of human kind.
Despite dire warnings technology has a back door into reality. Mobile phones, Mp3 players, hi definition televisions, tablets, laptops and personal computers abound. And this is just the sphere of entertainment and leisure. Think of all those labor saving devices, from the Washing Machine through to the high impact drills which control fracking. No danger is sensed from these inventions and that is because they in no way resemble the A.I of technological narrative. But they are the building blocks of such a narrative and should be considered as such, before A.I creeps in through the back door and echoes of ‘who knew’ are heard throughout the land.
Christmas is a contradictory, crazy time of year. There is so much amiss with it that it’s hard to know where to begin. So I’ll just mention the difference between the values it pertains to represent and the reality of the commercial world, where Christmas spirit, as Gareth so aptly puts it ‘is a tenner in a envelope.’
The world is currently a fairly negative place. The dominance of instant communication means immediate coverage of events which are predominantly negative. Even the good news has some kind of spin on it which can make it unpalatable. What then, can a TV programme, on for half an hour a week offer.
The Mckenzie Crook comedy, Detectorists, is largely about nothing, crawls along at a very slow pace but is a welcome oasis of silence in a very noisy world. It’s final episode aired this week and like it’s first two seasons, ends on a joyous, satisfactory moment.
I for one will miss Andy and Lance.
(You’ll have to watch to get the reference.)
The first work Kindle bound is a novel called Pegasus, which I wrote when I was 21. I had always wanted to write and when I began this just poured out of me. It’s a mixture of Buchan and Rider Haggard. The plotting is poor and character development fairly non existent but great fun to write and great fun to read.
What is not great fun is proof reading. I aim to have it up and published by the New Year. I’ll also be relaunching the site, with a new design and a new domain. Let’s hope it all works out but if it seems I’m neglecting the blogging then that’s why.
I stare with intent at the photograph.
In it I am stood against a mighty hill.
A child all alone.
But I cant be
Because the photographer is there.
Except I don’t know them,
I don’t know what happened to them.
And wonder if they know what
Became of me.
I am alone.
Except I am not.
There is a photographer
And there is hope.
I am not a fan of nation states but I understand their history and position in the world. After all it has been some time since we have been without them. There are some aspects of them I have never come to terms with. One of these is particular to England. Many people in the UK (England, Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales) express national pride, except the English. We do not celebrate our nation in case such feelings are construed as xenophobic. I’ve often wondered why this is. After all if one accepts nation states as necessary then surely celebrating membership of them should not be a negative stance. I suspect the hijacking of the Union Jack by the British National Party offers an explanation. Their adoption of the flag was so complete and absolute that even now claiming any relationship with it is interpreted as implicit support for this xenophobic and racist party. The British public do themselves no favors but one is to remember only 52% voted for Brexit and this country has a long and proud history of welcoming strangers.
There has always been a inevitable dualism when any policy of immigration is considered. In order to offer safe haven then that haven must have rules of admittance, otherwise the hunters will arrive with the hunted. Ultimately then it is a balance between law and genuine empathy which has to be addressed and considered in rational and thoughtful light. The media frenzy which is currently blowing a gale is a source of great harm. It might be said they do more for the principles of the BNP than any flag