Independence, and the super-rich…

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What ever your views on Scottish Independence, one of the most compelling arguments that I have been grappling with is the one that deals with social justice. Independent Scotland, it is said, will be a more just society, free from the Tory party, controlled as it is by the super rich clustered in the golden South East, and in London in particular. We can go it alone, responsible for our own fate, and become a more compassionate caring place…

In truth the decision most of us make next Thursday has little to do with economic arguments, little to do with whether or not Alex will keep the pound or stay in the EU- for most it is an instinctive feeling around which facts are bent. It is about national passion, deep identity and a sense that after all these years we can thumb our noses at the big oppressive cousins down south. Forget the nuances, we have a set of goggles to simplify all those years of shared history and broken dreams… Raise up the Saltire, conjure up Bannockburn and Bonnie Prince Charlie. Damn the English and may their football team continue to fail.

Because of this, I feel an unreality in the air which deeply troubles many of us. I can not feel the same sense of identity in an idea of nationhood- it is simply not possible given my mongrel origins (English/Irish, living in Scotland.) Therefore the actual arguments often seem entirely hollow. As an outsider to national pride, I fear it’s dark side, and struggle to find much that is positive in it. Relationship to place, to culture, to our deep roots in the soil- I envy this, but this is not what is being conjured up in much of the nationalist debate. Rather it seems to paint a version of Scotland defined AGAINST our nearest neighbours. I hate this kind of in/out thinking. So what in all this might I focus on?

What is left for me is to try to wonder how an independent Scotland changes things not just for the poor in Easterhouse, but also the poor in Bangkok and Birmingham. How does an independent Scotland (whose economic future is dependent on oil production above all else) turn us from our addiction to fossil fuels? How does an independent Scotland break our addiction to consumption or distraction by facile entertainment?

Yes campaigners promise me that it can do all these things.

I hope this might be true- but I fear also that the power wielded by international capital and the dominant ideology of so-called free market capitalism will simply not notice the border. It has hardly been impeded by those put up elsewhere. And this kind of focus on the poor/the environment/change to the way we consume has hardly been the centre of the political debate. Where are the genuinely new ideas? Rather the Yes campaign treads that familiar difficult middle ground- things will be the same, but better.

I fear distraction. Divide and rule. The natural opposition to the forces of capital have been on the back foot for many years in this country. Blair’s government broke our hearts and now in Scotland, hot bed of left wing ideas in the past, we have a splintering of the radicals because of the simplistic polarity of yes/no.

Meanwhile, here are a few interesting facts about we Scots.

Research repeatedly shows that the English, Welsh and Scots have very similar attitudes to most things – welfare, Europe, immigration, liberty versus authority and the rest.

 

The point is different from political divergences. We all know old party allegiances are fracturing for a lot of reasons, but not the kind the yes camp promotes. Put it another way, a Ukip MEP was elected in Scotland this year.

 

Also, as Ferguson puts it, the Daily Mail sells more copies in Scotland than its loftier Scottish rivals.

The issues remain for me though- social justice. Weak people being used as pawns in other peoples power games. Change that might change the window display, whilst in everything else it is business as usual. And the rich will still get richer…

Which bring me back to the point of the piece. I read this article today and found myself seething with anger. Here are some of the main points;

If the national minimum wage had kept pace with FTSE 100 CEO salaries since 1999, it would now be £18.89 per hour instead of £6.50. However, for some reason broadcasters rarely ask CEOs about the gulf between their pay and that of the poorest staff in their organisations. The unstated implication is that the lowest-paid staff are lucky to have any job at all, and only have what they have thanks to the benevolence of the 1%, with their superior leadership skills.

 

If the top 1% actually created more jobs as they became wealthier, then ordinary people would be surrounded by employment opportunities in both the US and the UK. Instead, it is in Germany, where the wealthiest 1% receives in pay and bonuses half as much as their counterparts in the US, that unemployment is at a 20-year low. In countries that keep their top 1% in check, the highest earners work more effectively for the good of all, or at the very least create a little less misery.

 

The article goes on to say what we mostly already know- that the tax regime that allows the rich to get richer contributes to a de-humanisation of poor people, and allows us to ignore them as undeserving, feckless and responsible for their own fate.

The change to this requires some kind of tipping point. Marx used to call it ‘class consciousness’. He thought sooner or later we would see it all for what it was and say ‘enough!’

Can this happen in isolation north of the border?

Or do we just break down the problem into smaller and smaller segments so that the one truly international force in our midst (international capital) can just carry on more or less the same?

There is one thing that gives me some continued hope- here in Scotland, things are changing. People are engaged in something, for good or ill. I just wish I could believe that it is the former…

Either way, after Thursday we have to live together. We have to find ways to solve the problems affecting our nation, our communities, our broken. Perhaps we will no longer be able to blame the English- and this will be a good thing!

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September song…

Tree, symetrical

Autumn is close. You can feel it in the evening as the cold tickles the hairs in your nose. Or perhaps it is the wood smoke. The fact of sunny days just makes the end of the summer that much more poignant.

flower, early autumn

Something is coming to an end. But it was glorious.

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Nothing lives for ever but perhaps every change of season leaves behind a record of its passing, left like a tree ring on our souls; a record of our living- some good years, others lean and hard.

Life is beautiful both in the coming in, and the going out…

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Watching those who watch…

beach, crowd, b and w

I finished my contract working in Inverness, and am back home catching up on all sorts of jobs. I have just been reviewed some photos I took up there. I went out to Chanonry point to sneek a peek at the dolphins that the Scottish Tourist Board pay to entertain tourists…

Of course, I was NOT a tourist. I stood back from the mob, aloof, alone and superior. Or at least that is how I like to see it. A dog was laughing at me though which was rather unsettling.

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The performing dolphins did not disappoint. Shrieks of excitement in twenty different accents competed with the sound of the sea and the cry of seagulls.

I suspect one of them was mine.

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Poetry workshop…

Love words?

How about spending some time in a lovely place immersing yourself in words?

There are still places left on the poetry workshop at courtesy of Old Castle Lachlan next Sunday. A tenner for a day of poetry plus lunch from the wonderful Inver Cottage Restaurant.

Details below;

creative workshops poster

Colours…

rainbow, barbed wire

 

Blue hangs like a limp flag above him

Stirred only by half-a-breeze

Always waiting for tomorrow

 

Light falling through these trees

As if through ten green bottles

Hanging on for the fall

 

In a crush of commuting greys she wore bright orange

Less to draw attention to herself, more in blazing protest

Against complicity, against the curse of ordinary compliance

 

Yellow says hello

As the summer strips the grass to straw

And flowers forget their gazing upwards

 

Red bowl of the sun in a darkening sky

Curtaining so fast that I reach out

Grasping as to cup it, to keep it close

 

Pink flesh unfolds like a flower

This fragile child, as if fearing the late frost

Now wrapped up safe in mother

 

The night is purple, not-quite-dark

Wide open like the mouth of a whale

Or the space between stars

 

Black like before-life, like un-pregnancy

Like before the big bang roared outwards into us

Before love made anything possible

 

Grey like the day she came to say “The time has come for leaving”

The sun itself was choked by cloud

The very sea was weeping

 

Water falling down on these old rocks

Gilding them with liquid silver

This normal place, anointed

 

Age has turned your hair pure white

Like the soul that dances in you

You are cathedral and I, your evensong

 

Sunlight makes alchemy from mountains

Now gold in the evening mist

Far beyond the wealth of kings

 

Brown like the ground where we lay down

The earth is pillow-soft

And waiting

 

Yorkshire sculpture park…

william does sculpture

We pulled off the M1 to spend some time at the wonderful Yorkshire Sculpture Park on our way back up north recently. If you get the chance to go- take it. Even if you do not ‘get’ big blocks of stone/bronze with cheese holes. There will be plenty more that will intrigue you…

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I am addicted to words as my primary means of creative expression. Sure, I like to shape things from wood, but these efforts are not ‘art’. If anything they are therapy, with the wood shaping me as much as the other way round. The  language of sculpture is one that intrigues me, but mostly excludes me. All the more reason to take some time in the midst of the sculpture park. We did not have enough time really- you need days, and we only had a couple of hours. We will return!

ai wei wei iron tree

The Chinese dissident artist (are all artists not dissidents?) Ai Weiwei was given a space in and around the old estate chapel. His pieces included a room full of chairs and a giant tree cast in iron and loosely bolted together. They told a powerful story, even to a philistine like me, of a culture whose emphasis on the collective to the exclusion of individualism might have become a terrible heresy. The great famines and purges in which hundreds of millions of Chinese people have died or been imprisoned hangs over the art like a cloud.

Some photos;

Greenbelt 2014, reflections…

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We are just unpacking from our road trip down to Greenbelt (topped off with a visit to family and a few hours spent at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park.)

Greenbelt was great- new site was lovely, if a challenging place to get camping gear on and off (they must improve this for next year.) It has much more space and landscape interest than the old one.

Absolute highlight for me was meeting up with so many of the poets from the new Learning to Love book. The readings, even at 9AM in the morning,  went really well- in fact they felt very worshipful, particularly with Harry Baker and Chris Read’s contributions- their new EP ‘But in Silence‘ is an essential download.

I saw/heard very little this year- I spent far more time in conversation- including laughing a lot in the Jesus Arms with David and Mary-Lee, seeing our lovely old friends and former neighbours the McGoos and generally catching up with many people who Greenbelt gives me the pleasure of connection with.

Musical highlight for me would be Lau- who were simply brilliant, weaving folk magic from the mainstage.

I did not hear any of the main speakers- could not get into their venues, so need to download talks.

Main communion event made me weep. I think one’s bladder moves closer to the eyes as we get older. A field full of people singing gently, passing communion…

Here are a few photos, randomly selected;

Greenbelt here we come…

We are off to Greenbelt Festival again this year…

Looking forward to seeing old friends, and immersing myself in some new ideas and new music. I have been too busy to decide exactly what new ideas/music, and will probably default to my usual method of wandering around and seeing what I encounter.

Oh, and I will be doing some of this;

Proost began as a vehicle to make more widely available materials being developed by creative people whose work would otherwise go unnoticed. It has developed into a kind of collaboration between all sorts of artists, writers, poets, film makers and musicians.

Proost has been searching for a different kind of Christian poetry that does not shrink from pain, from ugliness, from doubt. Poetry that questions, holds us account for our actions and is skewed towards the weak and broken. Poetry that is shaped from love. Out of this search came a collection of new poems, some of which will be heard for the first time at Greenbelt 2014.

Among the Proost Poets is Harry Baker who has collaborated together with musician Chris Read on a new collection, But In Silence, of contemplative poems/chants/prayers backed by some members of Emily and The Woods.

 

 

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Vicky Beeching comes out…

At first, I thought “So what?” It is no big deal any more surely?

Then I thought, it IS still a big deal for some- and it certainly must be for her, whose courage I salute.

I hope that people on all sides of this question will listen to what she has to say and hope for the very best for her. I hope to that some more people will be set free to live life in all it’s fullness.

I cried when she spoke her last sentence “God loves you exactly the way you are.” I cried because most of the people who say that do not mean everybody, and certainly not Gay people…