Some history of a bad day in history

I thought I'd write this now before I feel even worse, but it's 
something I need to write down.  In just over a weeks' time, it is the 
anniversary of a day which has influenced my entire life.  31 years ago, 
on the day that my mother found out she was pregnant with me, thanks to 
a drunk motorcycle rider, my dad died on his way home from work early to 
be with my mum on that special day for them both. I know this day as 
Daddy Dead day, to try and get my head in a coping place with it. This 
has influenced my entire life, as obviously I never knew him, but 
apparently, my dad would have been so proud of what I do/have done...
 
My Dad is the reason why I am so pro trade union, even if they are cunts 
at times.  My Dad was a member of a Union, called the EETPU (with a cunt 
of a general secretary called Eric Hammond in the years after my dad 
died.)  The EEPTU is known in trade union circles as a Scab Union, the 
Union who helped Murdoch to defeat the printers during the battle of 
Wapping and were later kicked out of the TUC.  They have this bad 
history, but that doesn't matter because what they did proved to me the 
strength of working class people working together...
 
The EEPTU paid for a barrister to represent our family at my dad's 
inquest and even though it was not work related, they set up a trust 
fund each for me and my sister which we were able to access when we 
turned 18 (I bought my first ever computer with this money). They also 
paid off my mum and my dads mortgage, so that my mum didn't have any 
worries about this at all.  One of my first memories is of my mum 
telling me during the miners strike, to ignore what the news was saying 
about the unions, that they had done everything possible for our family 
and made it so we were secure...
 
My dad was completely self taught, he dropped out of school at 12 
because he and his family couldn't afford not to and all his brothers 
and sisters had to do the same. He worked up through the ranks working 
as a concrete layer on the Trent Valley power stations - building the 
cooling towers for them all, and became a "maths genius" - his twins 
words not mine.  He became a union convener in his workplace and led a 
few strikes on health & safety grounds, all the while doing night school 
classes to try and improve himself academically, spending a lot of time 
in libraries to build up his general knowledge.
 
After he died, my immediate family lost contact with most of my dad's 
side of the family, apart from his twin David and his four kids.  The 
first time I met most of them was 7 years ago, when we were told about 
the funeral of my dad's older sister. Me and my sister turned up, and 
when we walked in hundreds of faces looked at us, and whispers ran round 
the crematorium "that's ******s kids, it has to be, look at the nose".
 
After twenty minutes or so of this, luckily 2 of the cousins we actually 
knew, came and sort of rescued us by introducing us fully.  Every single 
one of them asked what we were doing with ourselves, if we'd gone to 
uni, etc etc, and when I told them what degree I'd done, and the fact 
that I was a very active trade union rep (was 5 months before I got my 
current job), tears were flowing and "if your dad could see you now, 
he'd be so fucking proud of you." I have kept in touch with this side of 
the family since then, and have learned things about my dad's youth that 
I had never heard before, and there are just so many scary similarities 
between us.
 
I don't know if there is a heaven or hell, or what happens after we die, 
but, no matter what, I just hope that what the family say is true, that 
my dad is proud of me.  This is one of the few things that keeps me 
going through my darkest days, this thought, to know that I may have 
lived up to unmentioned expectations that he had in the few hours that 
he knew he was going to have a son. This is the reason that this time of 
year means so fucking much to me, and the reason why, no matter what, I 
still think that trade unions are one of the best things to ever happen 
in this country and we need to support them however we can (within 
reason...)

People who will be first against the wall come the revolution...

I am trying to build up an as near enough complete list as possible of those who will be first against the wall come the revolution. Please help me add to these via the comments, coz my brain isn't fully working...

in no particular order

Morris Dancers
Bagpipers
the entire cabinet
tony blair
the millibands
f\ascist scum
the queen
norman tebbit
thatcher, will need at least 20 bullets to  ensure she dies

i know there are a lot more, but my head doesn't work at this time of day. please help me fill it up via commen ts...

Why I am proud to be called hippy…And i'm not a twat (most of the time)

I’ll start off with a couple of definitions of the word hippy, the first from the Free Online Dictionary, the second from the concise OED.

hippy¹, hippie [ˈhɪpɪ]

n pl -pies

a.  (esp during the 1960s) a person whose behaviour, dress, use of drugs, etc., implied a rejection of conventional values

b.  (as modifier) hippy language

hippy¹ (also hippie)

▶noun (pl. hippies) (especially in the 1960s) a young person associated with a subculture which rejected traditional social values, advocated peace and free love, and favoured long hair and unconventional dress.

The one thing that these both have in common is “Rejection” – rejection of Conventional Values, rejection of Traditional Social Values, and both imply a certain level of behaviour.

Why does this matter to me then? (and yet again, I’m coming out with the bloody rhetorical questions…I need to stop this, but how??)

Over the last few months, I’ve been having a regular friendly argument with one of my friends here in the lovely market town that I live in…Psycho chef calls me “bloody hippy who should be set on fire like all fucking hippies” I call him “psycho soulless ginger freak” – as you can see, it’s quite calm and sedate, also, I have noticed how on twitter, and multiple other interwebby places, hippy is used as a term of abuse for people.

At School I was called a hippy for various reasons, which I’ll explain in a bit, but it was used as a form of attempted bullying, like everything else that was used against me (see previous posts for a bit about the bullying I received at school.)

Anybody who ever says Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, without a trace of irony, is a lying bar steward,  but hippy was one word that didn’t affect me in the slightest because I was proud of being a hippy!

As I have said previously, I was bought up in the deep dark depths of the Fens, and lived on what could be called a smallholding (where my family still live to this day).

The Constituency where the house is is deepest dark blue, until the 2010 elections, our MP was the tory grandee (and moat botherer) Douglas Hogg.

Until 1995 (my 2^nd year of secondary school) we were not on mains electric, we had a generator,  so, didn’t have tv etc etc coz it would have used far too much oil. We grew all our own fruit and vegetables, and had pigs and chickens – very very much like the good life in fact. Added to that, my incredibly bad fashion sense (ie none existence) and my overwhelming preference for longer hair, I got called a hippy because of all this.

It was so bad, that the only person from secondary school who I am still in regular contact with (and is the dad of my beautiful god daughter) is the only other lad in my year who got bullied coz his upbringing was roughly the same!

After I went to uni, and got kicked out, I grew my hair longer and longer, until it was long enough to sit on, started growing my own smokable products in the garden (it wasn’t very strong stuff, but homegrown always tastes better) and, started to wear what some people choose to call “hippy bead crap” but I prefer to call memories, on my wrists and neck.

In 2005, I spent the whole of the summer living in a tent on a beach on the south cornwall coast, no money, no work, food and alcohol gained through in raiding, but also many many scars on the wrists and neck.. Yes, I was a cutter, ended up in hospital on numerous occasions with life threatening bleeding. My wrists, my neck, and my upper legs were my cutting areas of choice. Upper legs can be covered easily,  writs and neck not so easily,  so I started wearing beads to cover them up. My cutting wasn’t for anybody else to see, no other bastard needed to know, it was purely a way of concentrating my head, and making me realise I was actually living.

The beads still exist, and still serve the same purpose.

I also believe in alternative therapy/medication, and meditation.  When I say alternative therapy/medication I do not mean Homeopathy…Homeopathy is one of the biggest rip offs of modern times, almost as bad as scientology in my view,  what I mean is traditional medicines, and therapies which help to connect your mind and body together again, again, helping to show that I am alive.

I use mediation, when I am able to, to try and empty my head of the weird, scary and downright fucked up thoughts that I regularly have, to try and make me feel more “normal” whatever that means!

I still feel at my absolute happiest when I am out with nature, with none of the modern world intruding onto what I do, and, if I could, I would be living in a smallholding, with no modern junk (apart from a computer and broadband, because I am not that prehistoric), growing my own food, and living off nature as humankind has done for the vast majority of its history. As long as I could also have shedloads of tea, alcohol and possibly smokeables.

To me, Hippy means somebody who lives with nature, and doesn’t fight against it. Somebody who isn’t completely wrapped up in the modern world to the exclusion of everything else. That is why I am actually proud to be a hippy. This is what I would know as rejecting “traditional” social values, as traditional is just a modern construct, as way to distance ourselves from the more “primitive” humans across the world, and to show that the “tradition” of  Western people is supposedly more advanced than those people who do still live with nature.

What hippy does not mean to me, is people like these http://t.co/I0v8soV ,other wannabe “New age” types and believers in Homeopathy.They are what I would know as absolute fucking Twats, and they deserve to be burnt alive.

From now on, if I see people, who I get on with, using hippy as a term of abuse, I am going to bite back, even if it is just directing them to here.

Phew, that’s got that one of my chest.  Now for a cuppa :D

My Politics

It appears at the moment that all over twitter people are calling each other out over their political views,  even when it's people who i get on with, i'm getting very pissed off with some of the attacks being made (Retaliation attacks don't bother me, it's the initial attack...) so, i thought i'd set out my views, and why i'm not going to back ken, didn't back galloway, and am not interested in TUSC at all.

I Would call myself a socialist, i'm definitely on the left wing of the spectrum, however, i have never, and will never join a political party of any persuasion whatever, and the more you go on about how X is the only party that can sort things out,  the more i'm going to get pissed off, and do everything i possibly can to derail them.

I will not join a political party for personal reasons, which none of you need to know about, but i will work with them, as long as it doesn't get all party political, and, sorry, i have to say this, especially as i have got a lot of good friends who are members of both, the worst for this are the Socialist Party, and the socialist workers Party.

Over the past few months, i have been reading the writings of @AKBlackandred , who i had heard of through various people i know in PCS, and around liverpool, and, he has been the one person who seems to come over as a voice of rationality at the moment. When he writes, it seems to get straight to the point of whatever is happening at the moment, without falling into the sectarianism that i think we are all aware of, and, i have seen him trying to be calm and collected, when he, and other people are being outright attacked by supposed comrades...

The above paragrpah wasn't really planned, but it fits, so i'll leave it. but, what i will sum up with is, Look, i know that a lot of the people who i follow, and who follow me, are very politically active, etc etc, but if i say anything that is against your party line, IT'S NOT A FUCKING ATTACK ON YOU, IT'S ME GETTING PISSED OFF WITH YOUR PARTY/GROUPINGS, AND, NO I AM MOST DEFINITELY NOT PAYING TO JOIN, OR BUYING A FUCKING PAPER!

International Womens Day

As you all hopefully know, today is international womens day (originally international working womens day) a  day to recognise the massive role that women have had in creating the modern world, mostly without recognition.

I've only been awake a few minutes, but have already seen on twitter people saying "well, when's international mens day"  (it's the 19th November if you even bothered to try and do a bit of research),  and "why do women need their own day".  I'm happy to admit that i have done this at times, but only in a purposeful attempt to troll people who i get on with, and who know what my real views are!

I support International Womens Day absolutely and utterly. I was bought up in a purely female household (barring myself of course),  Me, My older Sister, My Mum (my Nana a lot of the time, and my 2 aunties).  While i was growing up my mum worked in a variety of part time jobs to support me and my sister, my nana also did the same, and told me stories of when she worked at MetroVickers in Manchester during the second world war, and how, virtually the entire armaments this country produced were by women. I was bought up with talesof the suffragettes, and what they'd done, with tales of mary seacole and others,  yet, every year it seems to be that people try to belittle the role that women have had through the years and bring out the whole "we're all equal now" argument.

BOLLOCKS are we. I know that as a White Heterosexual Cisgendered Male, i am priviledged in every single way (apart from class).  In this day and age, being female should not be a reason for being a second class citizen, but unfortunately in so many peoples minds, it is!

I don't think i've managed to write what my head actually wanted to write here, but, i hope it makes sense!

Ups & Downs

Well, since the amazing weekend i've had, it's been a bit of a downer since,  i went out on sunday night after i got back from liverpool to the small town where i live, using the last bit of my money, met up with a few people and had a good laugh, many drinks were bought for me, then it was home and to sleep. between about midnight on sunday, and 2 on tuesday afternoon, i had maybe 2 hours awake, and am still feeling absolutely exhausted. Am waiting for all the paperwork from Payplan to come through, but am scared shitless to look in my postbox coz i'm afraid of whats going to be there...I will have a look later, because i know that today is Private Eye day, the one day every 2 weeks where i can read aabout all the  shit thats going on in the country!

I am just feeling absolutely exhausted, whether this is because of the new prescription, or because i'm mentally and physically drained, i don't know,  but i'm not eating - i do have some food, but am just not hungry at all. I have no money, so i can''t even jump on a train somewhere and wander. It's at times like this that i wished i lived in aa big city again, whhere there are museums, art galleries and things like that that are free, where there's new places to continually discover, but market towns don't have that!  I need to get out and ensure that i talk to people. but can't do that at pubs, coz i have no money, so i'm just staying in bed.... I may put my earphones on in a bit, and have a walk, see if i see anyone, but i doubt it.

A weekend of friends, activism, friends and comedy

So, just heading home after a lovely relaxing weekend in liverpool, shame I have to leave so soon. If i'd known that I would be signed off work on friday, I would have made my advance tickets for tomorrow or tuesday, not this time in the morning today!
So, I arrived into liverpool at about 4 on friday afternoon, and was welcomed by my twin, the magnificent man known as Mr David Ellis, one of the finest.human beings you can ever meet, he took me straight to the pub next door to lime street, and started plying me with alcohol, before too long, the rest of the family Mac had turned up, Jackie Mac (or mother to give her her real name), Becky & Dan - the best little siblings (none related) that any human being could ever ask for, then in short order, the lovely suz, and the godlike keith turned up as well. This wonderful group of people are guaranteed to put my head into a good place, coz they are all what could be called amazing!
Then, it was home time (or for me, daves home which is my second home) ready to prepare for a day of activism and comedy!
Having a couple of hours to waste before I met up with Dave &Suz again, me and leila decided to go for a pint or two. After wondering around, trying to find a pub that wasn't packed, and wasn't playing loud loud music, we finally went into one called Slaters, we finally sat down for a nice relaxing pint, and settled into swapping anecdotes, and taking the piss out of each other (Leila is now officially to be known as "the nicest one in the world, not just the flat")  when we were disturbed by a chant of "E E E DL" coming from a group of skinheads who just walked in. To put it mildly, we were worried, both of us involved in anti fascist work in different ways, but with leila being involved locally, it was time to try and finish our pints extremely quickly and get out without a scene being caused. We managed this thank god, and moved on, and found a lovely pub, which looks like a spit and saw dust pub from the outside, but which was a proper cask ale pub on the inside! After a pint there, we left, and I said bye to Leila, but with a promise i'd see her next time i'm up in liverpool (I think that I actually said i'd let her know when I was up, just as i'm leaving ;) )
Now, it was onto the main point of the weekend, the reason why I actually made the trip, Mr Stewart Lee, the greatest living comedian...If you don't know Stewart Lee, he isn't a gag master, he is somebody who deconstructs Comedy routines, and turns them round on themselves, linking disparate elements into one solid 2hrs routine.
I haven't laughed as hard as I did last night for absolutely yonks, and would recommend you all go and watch him if you can, he is that overused word, genius, but in his case, it is aposite!
Once that was over, back down to the swan, and a few pints, some good laughs and then it was back to bootle, and get some sleep, before having to get the half ten train from there into town, and onwards.
I'm currently sat on a train from lime street to leeds, and am hoping to meet an old friend, mr chisman for a quick pint there, but, even if I don't, I can safely say that this is one of the best weekends I have had for a long time, friends old and new, activism, comedy, advice on the money shit, and help with the depression side!
I can't wait to come back to liverpool again, no idea when it will be however tho :(