GDPR. What’s your tally? I’m on my 67th this week. As I write, another ping, another fucking supercilious, sanctimonious email trying like desperate fuck to be my fucking friend, preying on my weakest moment of distraction to keel over and resubscribe.

Privacy has never been so invasive.

Here’s the truth (come closer you can’t hear from over there) WE ARE NOT FRIENDS. NOT THEN. NOT NOW. NOT EVER.

Why have you left it this late to be funny, profound, apologetic, respectful, irreverent? You’ve dumped your ill-thought landfill on me for years, and now, just as we’re about to call it day, you get down on your scabby knees and beg for me to stay. Yes, I’m an idiot. Dense as double-weave-concrete. Should’ve bailed yonks ago and not turned this week into a communication ultimatum that piles on the guilt like a cultural equivalent of tax deadline day.

Somewhere, in between the javelins of small talk, I’ve shimmied left and right, evading the barbed triple hooks that hide beneath your kiss-and-make-up missive. This shedding of mail is akin to a snake shedding its skin. It should be annual thing. A way for us all to live lighter lives. For correspondence to come and go, as we do with our lives. To accept that routine, like marriage, is slow motion murder.

So,,, delete, drop, dump.

If you suffer intolerable withdrawal symptoms, your body will tell you.

Chances are, it’ll tell your something else, something it hasn’t told you in a while, something you need to hear. That it loves you. That it hates mental digital pollution more than you drinking bleach. That your soul can stop holding its breath. That your whole being can stop going AWOL and muster in the same gelatinous body as the human electricity that has been struggling with power cuts.

Thank fuck you don’t subscribe to thisness.


The world has its binary knickers in a two-legged twist. And it hurts. Real bad. Thanks to a spate of double-dumb questions provoking divisive answers that cleaver families in half, we have become yodellers in our own echo craters, closed to the other view, violently disagreeing with anything that strays off our self-affirming, ever-narrowing sliver of what’s right.

Like global warming, gobstoppers and Arsene Wenger, this one side only syndrome can’t go on forever.

Something has to give.

Versus is curses.

Equals has sequels.

Welcome to bothism, small ‘b’ don’t you know. It’s a 2-way law that states that opposing things are at least 51% identical. It goes on to state that these so-called enemies are interdependent, they govern, nourish, develop and give life to each other. It believes totally in compliment and not at all in compromise, which is, in itself, quite a lot to get your preconceived head around.

It is founded on moments of linguistic nirvana, namely this:

“The test of a first rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” – yes, you know who said that…no, it wasn’t grandad after a few sherries at Xmas…it was…yes, that’s it. FSF.

And this:

“Wit is the sudden marriage of ideas, which, before their union, were not perceived to have any relation.” And that’s by, yes, don’t tell me, it’s coming, nope…it’s gone. MT. Oh, thanks.

This isn’t intended to ever be a manifesto. It’s more of a bridge. Instead of a wall. Not that all walls are bad. Some are great for climbing and dancing on, or leaping off (as any teenage kid on a quay in Cornwall will testify).

So go wrap your arms around the person you least like the look or views of, knowing deep down you overlap way past half way.

Try being both-ist.

And making the moth-ist.


It’s only a word.
But…it’s everywhere.
It’s verbally malignant and it’s killing us.
It’s the most overused, under-thought word of our times.

That word is ‘outcome’.

‘Outcome’ is a vile word. The dumbest word alive. The world’s worst word, possibly only superseded by ‘outcomes’.
Yes, you heard that right.


How can you trust anyone who uses the word ‘outcomes’ without hesitation or acknowledgement that it’s 100% blue-blooded bollocks? This falsely pluralised word signals an all time lingual low. It has no meaning, no propose, no soul. It’s emptier than a void. It is everything an orgasm isn’t. At its best, it’s an emasculation of the word ‘result’, forced through a mangle of new legal language just in case we get sued.

This word strangulates our health service, removing every ounce of compassion from the humans that hold it together.

‘Outcome’ is the nemesis of care. It severs the soul from those who use it freely.

This word pollutes every thread of education from womb to tomb. The system uses it (teachers don’t, children don’t, parents don’t). It’s the staple diet of every regulatory body, a public sector addiction under the same deluded spell as the economy, and football. It’s all-out destination, bypassing the love of what happens if you decide to wander off and go somewhere else. Deviation, the long lost outlaw sister of devolution.

Outcome has to go. It’s beyond room 101 – the abandoned items there are too pure to share the same atmosphere. Even hell might struggle with its presence.

The only way to eradicate it is to run with it and die with it.

Let’s fast forward our time on earth and leave it to species who can’t write, say, think or feel this word.
Let’s start a political party called ‘Outcome’.
Let’s name our children ‘Outcome’.

Let’s just stop there.
Let’s finish with a last line that oozes outcome.
Let’s stop playing because we lost to ourselves.

Which brings us to…

The end game.


Better make this quick.

Get to the point.

Do any FUCKINGLY DESPERADO thing to keep your interest.

Or not.

We are now implausibly impatient creatures. The things that matter – love, work, education, health, news – we want them all now, without effort or delay. Yet, the faster they come, the faster they fall (as Jimmy Cliff once almost sang). Take this morning. I tried to shut a door handle we had replaced after 3 years of it coming away in your hand. Close it slowwwwwwly and it stays shut. Close it in a hurry and it pings back open.  It’s taken 6 months to figure out being gentle and patient works, and being headstrong and aggressive doesn’t. When life suddenly dawns on you, you wake up. Maybe we need to sleep more? During the day? Sedated in some way? Then again, we already are, thanks to technology. In the here and now, technology neuters our presence, dilutes our meaning to those beside us. We could be anyone, anywhere. Except, our soul protests. The soul is our most complex component, it flourishes in the moment. Technology has kidnapped the soul. We await a ransom in vain, yet somehow the waiting alone reorientates the soul. Pops it back on its fidget spinner. And if you stuck with this unforgiving paragraph, you’re now a few % rehumanised.


The following text was originally published by the Nolan Committee under John Major in October 1994. Yes, really. If Lord Nolan was alive today, he may like to see the recent amendments (in brackets) added pathologically by Theresa May just before she went to bed last night after doing the deal with the DUP.

  1. SELFLESSNESS – Holders of public office should act solely in terms of the public interest (note: public means private & we means me). They should not do so in order to gain financial or other material benefits for themselves, their family, or their friends (unless their job is at risk).
  2. INTEGRITY – Holders of public office should not place themselves under any financial or other obligation (over £1,500,000,000) to outside individuals or organisations that might seek to influence them in the performance of their officials duties.
  3. OBJECTIVITY – In carrying out public business, including making public appointments, awarding contracts, or recommending individuals for rewards and benefits (except power to govern) as holders of public should makes choices on merit (or convenience).
  4. ACCOUNTABILITY – Holders of public office are accountable for their decisions and actions to the public and must submit themselves to whatever scrutiny is appropriate to their office (by their recently bought out fellow conspirators).
  5. OPENNESS – Holders of public office should be as open as possible (in private) about all the decisions and actions they take. They should give reasons for their decisions (if hey can be arsed) and restrict information only when the wider public interest clearly demands (ie: never).
  6. HONESTY – Holders of public office have a duty to declare any private interests (bar personal off shore accounts in tax havens) relating to their public duties and to take steps to resolve (with bribes) any conflicts arising in a way that protects the public interest.
  7. LEADERSHIP – Holders of public office should promote and support these principles by (strong and stable) leadership and (conflicting) example.




You maybe have wandered into this feeling tired, disillusioned, angered, lost or just indifferent. Whatever your emotion, I doubt it was top of the upbeat scale. We rarely start to read on a high. We read to change our mood, to lift us into a different state.

The job of the writer is to harpoon the reader without killing him/er. Then to tease, tantalise and trawl that person across an ocean of emotion, avoiding rhyme at all time.

Double sorry there.

This relationship relies on the reader succumbing, submitting to the words as they unveil themselves in an order the reader has never encountered before. They won’t know this. It’s not a cognitive process. They will either read on if it’s new, and stop it it’s not.

Staid stories seize. Fluid fiction flows, so says the poet with a face full of glue. But you, reader, need no stimulant other than the unexpected words themselves. If they are up to their potent best, they will shame any drug on earth or in hell.

There, there, sober-skulled reader, that didn’t hurt now did it?


  1. ADMIT WE’RE WRONG. “Dear EU, we’re sorry. We screwed up and walked out on you and the family. That act of extreme selfishness does none of us any good. It’s not as though we’ve jumped into bed with America or China. Call it naive, call it a mid-lifer, call it harm en masse – we will do all we can legally, morally, intellectually and collectively to assuage the pain we’ve caused you and our European neighbours. So, it is with our lion’s tail between our legs that we ask for forgiveness and once we’ve sorted out our domesticities, we’d love to remain your ally and partner in life, if of course you’ll have us back.”
  2. BE GENEROUS. Give Africa £350m a day for at least a month to show it’s not about the money, money, money…cue Jesse J.
  3. ELECT A B.A.M.E. PM. If we want to prove that the vote was a vote against ‘unelected bureaucracy’ and not a shameful unveiling of suppressed racism, we need to make a statement of intent and make it quick. There are 42 minority-ethinc MPs. Pass a Rooney Rule in politics that guarantees a B.A.M.E. candidate on every political shortlist. No wait, here’s a quicker idea. Assuming Hilary Clinton gets the gig and the US don’t out-dumb us in November and vote in a blond bovine called Donald, we must create history and invite the greatest global statesman of our time to cross the Atlantic and lead our confused country. Prime Minister Obama, on behalf of us all, would you please do the honours and reunited our kingdom?
  4. TAKE IN 100,000 MOST NEEDY REFUGEES. A few facts first. There are 126,000 refugees in the UK, 0.19% of our population. Almost half the world’s refugees are fleeing Syria, 4.2m and rising. If we welcomed 100,000, that’s less than a quarter of Germany’s compassion but it’s still 3 times the amount we considered last year. It’s not the least we can do (that’s where we are right now) but it is a start.
  5. BOOT OUT 1000 MOST GREEDY TAX EVADERS. A few more facts. The ‘tax gap’ in Britain is a paltry £34bn. Yes, 34bn. That’s nine noughts if you’re counting, and not fainting. This is what the HMRC is owed but doesn’t get. It has around 700 people chasing the richest evaders in vain, while it assigns 3600 tax heavies to put the squeeze on benefit fraudsters. For every quid the dad on benefits diddles just to try and feed his family, the evader screws the country 3 times over. Surely, if we evict the rich who won’t pay their pay, everyone who deserves to win, does win.


That isn’t the question.

The question is simple: what are we?

The answer is human beings. We are a social species. It’s in our make-up to share. Since day dot, we’ve shared things, from a animal carcass in a cave to our brightest hopes for the future. This process of exchanging, giving and receiving, is what makes us tick as human beings – it’s what drives us forward. It is the human spirit.

Somewhere along the line, this innate desire to share our food, stories and knowledge of breakthroughs and fuck-ups grew to such a size and scale that man created money. Money distorted our ability to share into ‘shares’, ownership, greed, and the rest is history, no doubt written with bias by the victor wearing a medal.

Oh boy, Britain likes to talk about the past. We are Olympic Champions at Reminiscence. Our imperial roots run deep and explain why we’re often seen as arrogant or miserable or funny by our friends overseas. Yes, we have our moments where we remind the world how we can also be astonishingly humble, optimistic and funny (we must always be funny, it’s also part of the human DNA). Take Tim Peake only this week. ‘I love that smell of Earth. Could do with a beer and pizza.’ Profound + open + funny = human.

In 48 hrs we’ll know if we all said stay, go or don’t know. If you still don’t know, don’t panic. Don’t try and decipher the facts – they’re all fictional guesses about the future, a subject that sustains the meaning of life itself.

Just stare in the mirror.

Ask yourself what you are.

A giver or a taker.

One who quits or perseveres.

A believer in bridges or walls.

Make up your own words, or just ask your gut – it’s where the enteric nervous system lives…our 2nd brain…and it can’t lie.

That’s the truth.


The stage is set for you to steal the moment. Never before has a public felt so polluted, insulted and disorientated. Both sides of the EU Referendum push us aside like a dog trying to remove the last traces of excrement from its arse as it walks away from us despite our calls to ‘heel’. This is the most inhumane of campaigns. They treat statistics the way foxes treat chickens.

Jeremy, arise. Take a stance that we can all ‘get’. A stance that elevates the integrity and intelligence of the common man and woman. We implore you to speak for us, not to us or at us. You are one of us in that you’re not out to dupe anyone. You don’t seek to be liked. You know what this referendum needs. Honesty. Dignity. Humility. Clarity.

We give you a week. By next Sunday, please turn 3 months of backstabbing unintentional self-harm into a salient argument for and against. Out-balance the BBC and John Pienaar. It’s yours for the taking. Don’t shy away. Don’t back down. Deliver us from evil. For better, for wiser.

The People of Britain.

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