This made me smile- I hope it does you too. I loved the combination of folk music, space monsters and animation.The music is by a collection of folk superstars that make up ‘The Imagined Village‘- vocal on this track by Eliza Carthy…
I was saddened today to hear of the death of Michael Foot, journalist, writer and former leader of the Labour Party whilst in opposition from 1980 to 1983.
Foot was the leader of the Labour party at the time I discovered politics. It was a time that we can barely remember let alone understand- when great ideologies confronted each other across the dispatch box. On the one side, Thatcherism– in all its free market elitism and on the other, a Labour ideal of the rise of moral egalitarianism, and the battle for a fairer and more equal society.
It was a time before sound bites, and when media manipulation was not the primary skill required by a political leader. Rather, the ability to debate with passion and integrity, and to move people by the power of your voice- these things were still of value.
And Foot was part of this long tradition- a Labour man from a very non working class background, who nevertheless will forever be associated with ‘Old Labour’, whose core principles still have a hold over me.
Foot also presided over a party whose radical policies of nuclear disarmament and opposition to war in the Falkland islands were formed in a time of chaotic social change. It was a time when the left wing of the party, under the strong influence of supporters of Tony Benn.
And yet Labour suffered their heaviest ever defeat in the General Election in 1983.
Foot, aged 67, frail and always scruffy in his Donkey Jackets, crumpled suits and wild hair, resigned soon afterwards.
Principled, passionate, intelligent and perhaps a little eccentric. How I miss politicians like Foot. I suspect we will not see his like again…
By way of a tribute- here are some clips. Each one a little time capsule from a different time. From the dark years of mass unemployment, the decimation of Britain’s industrial base, and before the euphoria (then betrayal) many of us felt under Tony Blair…
(Posted from the Ferry using my dongle thingy. Oh the joy of technology… )
So, my friend and co-conspirator Nick has taken up blogging! Nick has a website in connection to his life coaching and outdoor instructing- check it out…
In his last post, I got a mention- but the main thrust was the small matter of risk taking- which has been a theme here too of course. Nick quotes a few lines from a poem which I rather like. I can not find an author attributed- so if you know who wrote it, please let me know.
I think the poem deals rather well with the wider issues of risk- not just the white knuckle outdoor stuff, but also the issue of social risk- the danger of opening ourselves up to others around us. Another vitally important theme I think…
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool;
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental;
To reach out for another is to risk involvement
To expose feeling is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and your dreams
before the crowd is to risk their loss
To love is to risk not being loved in return
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair
To try is to risk failure.
But risk must be taken,
because the greatest hazard in life
is to risk nothing
The person who risks nothing, does nothing,
has nothing and is nothing;
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they simply cannot learn,
feel change, grow, love, Live
Chained by their certitude, they are a slave,
they have forfeited freedom;
Only the person who risks is free.
this fragile tent 