Its been a long time

This is a piece of writing I put together for a writing class I am currently attending at The Hub in my local area of Lochend. It’s a bit rough, but is something that I didn’t think was too shoddy.

He stood at the other side of the hedge, looking into the field and the flames as they slowly consumed the brightly coloured framework of the caravan. He moved his feet impatiently but couldn’t get any closer to the crowd of people gathered around the rapidly burning wood. Their attention was caught up with the dancing, flickering tongues of orange and red, and for the first time in his life he felt alone and abandoned.

The sounds of voices murmuring condolences mixed with others that held humour as they reminisced about old times travelled on the smoky air. Coupled with the sound of someone playing a plaintive air on a violin, accompanied by the regular beating of a bodhran . Old Jimmy would have loved it, if he could have heard it. He liked to think that even now that he was dead the music would take him to his rest.

Jimmy’s caravan started to fold in on itself as the heat spiralled upwards, forcing the crowd to step back a little. One or two braved the furious billows of smoke, and threw keepsakes into the now fierce inferno.

He looked longingly across the field now, his own memories stirring, and he tried to get through the thicket ahead of him with no success. He wanted to stop it all now, to quench the flames and to bring the old man back to life. To hear his laugh, to hear his songs once more. He stopped his struggle against the hedge and was quieted.

Holding his head steady he could hear in the distance the sound of sirens getting closer. He saw it in a moment, the red of the fire truck making its way along the nearby road. Soon it was making its way through the farm gateway and on towards the fire now beginning to wane.

A heavy uniformed figure ran towards the crowd, whilst a group of others readied the hose. As he moved quickly the newcomer shouted out.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at. You know you can’t do this”.

A slim tired looking woman stood in his way, a fierce determination held in her emerald eyes as she looked back at the burning caravan. The tears flowed gently down her cheeks as she turned angrily on the fireman in front of her.

“It was his wish. It was his life and his tradition” she said in her sing song voice. “There is nothing you can do to him now. He is gone, and all he ever owned has gone with him”

“But you know you can’t do this. You can’t go around setting fire to things all over the place. It’s just not done.”

She sighed heavily and putting a hand on his arm, lead him closer towards the fire. His team were now busy making their preparations to extinguish the flames.

“No, she shouted. Not til it is done. He must be taken by the flames so that he can be returned to those who love him.”

The lead fireman glared at her, anger in his face as he tried to push past, to help his colleagues.

“You mean to say he’s in there. In the bloody caravan…right now”

“No…only his shell, and he has no use for that as he no longer has use for the blessed vehicle he has lived in all these years.”

There was little they could do now that the fire had done its work, and I pawed the ground beneath me, turning and pulling at the cord around my neck. I tugged harder and the rope started to tighten, til suddenly the small wooden post I had been anchored with gave way. I ran across the field I was in, and with a gallop turned and approached the hedge.

With a mighty effort I soared across the greenery, feeling the air brushing against my black coat. Landing with little effort I ran to her, and nuzzled myself up against her. I felt her fingers run through my mane and was comforted as she patted me gently.

“There there Blackie. He has finally gone home”

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The world and the curry crisis


Nothing could imperil our common future more than our opposition gaining advanced curry technology. To understand what a world would be like with a sauce enhanced enemy just imagine the world under a regime utilising poppadoms and other favoured snacks. It makes little difference if these lethal foods are in the hands of your local take away or a more upmarket operation. They are both cooked in the same kinds of ovens, fired by the same desires for spices.


Ladies and gentlemen I have spoken about this issue for many years, ever since convenience food became popular. I spoke about it with the introduction of lasagna and pizza. I spoke about it when it was fashionable and I spoke about it when it wasn’t fashionable. I even held out against chicken in a basket and scampi delivered in the same way.


Think about it now because the hour is getting late very late, and there is the possibility that someone will actually arm themselves with a kebab. The devestation that could be caused by such a choice is unthinkable.


At this point I would have liked to show you a diagram which had been drawn by my six year old grandson, but he decided to draw a lovely house and garden. I have it here, it’s fabulous isn’t it. It may lack in perspective, but no more really than what I have to say does.


Instead I refer you to this empty carton used for the purposes of the deployment of the object of our concern.


Currently the production of the lethal substance is at what I would call the seventy percent mark. This is shown by the development of the Korma. The next stage and I believe it is close is for these Rouge-gan Josh states to create and deploy a large amount of balti or worse case scenario biryani.


We all know that the ultimate destination for these people is to create the vindaloo, the most feared of all curries.


There is only one way to prevent this situation from escalating, and that is to place a clear line of mayonnaise around the curry creation programme. People ask me why I am concerned about this issue, and I say to them.


“Armeggedin there.”


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Securing your world

You will have seen in the past day or so that Theresa May has had to rely on the Army to supply more guards for the Olympics this Summer. There will be 3,500 on top of the already projected and agreed 13,500. This at a time when the Coalition is set to downsize the Army by 20,000.

So with a couple or so  weeks to go before this prestigious even takes place, why or why has this measure been necessary? It would seem that G4S the company brought in to undertake the job has admitted they can not provide the 10,000 guards that they have been paid a substantial amount of cash for.

The thing is that if you look back (a quick google search will do it) this is not really a big surprise. Though G4S may have changed somewhat over the years they do not have the best track record.

1993 – Group Four take on the job of the private company transferring prisoners from place to place. They manage in the first three weeks to lose seven prisoners. In the words of Paul Daniels “Now that’s magic”.

1993 – A detention centre run by the company was involved in controversy. Campsfield House saw prisoners rioting and a hunger strike, with prisoners escaping from the facility.

1998 – Campsfield again appears in the press. This time it is proven that inmates have been accused of rioting and disorder. The accused were aquitted after it was shown that staff at the centre had lied.

And so on and so on. It’s a litany of mistakes and incompetence, which you can read more about here in an article by Rebecca Allison:

Group 4: A history of blunders

It make for interesting reading I think, and remember this is only up until 2003. So do you feel this is the company that should have been selected for “Securing your world” or in this case the Olympics?

Perhaps the reason for getting the 16,500 troops together to man the posts is so that Theresa May can deliver their redundancies in a much more efficient and expedient way! “Thank you for really securing our world, now get on your bike” would probably be the message.


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Sometimes its best to let someone else say it

One of the great things about blogging is that on many occasions someone will be thinking the same things as yourself. The even greater thing is when you can not quite put it into the right form of words to express yourself clearly, and you find someone else has. I have found such a subject of discussion in the matter of copyright theft and the small indie writer.

I read a post today by Stella Duffy on this very matter. It is concise, succinct and puts across how I personally feel about the whole issue. It’s worth a read for sure, so why not click on the link below and have a look. Thanks Stella:)

Stella Duffy on Copyright Theft

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Falkirk’s finest

The Falkirk wheel, powered with the same energy as a handful or so of kettles being boiled.

The Falkirk Head Butter powered by the energy of alcohol.

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Treat your own work with respect

Over the years I have written one or two things. I even still have copies of some of it, though I have lost a lot as well. Some people don’t hang on to things because they move around a lot. That has never been the case with me as I have managed to cart a whole houseful of stuff around with me.

The sad thing is that I have on occasion been somewhat cavalier with some of the work that I have done. There is for example a play I wrote when I was 21 that I no longer have a copy of. A friend does, but he is not quite sure where it is. Not surprising as its about twenty odd years old. I have been thinking about rewriting it recently, though I did have the lazy dreamy thought that the original would turn up and I could improve it.

Anyway I guess what I would like to say in this post is never treat your own writing badly. Cherish it even if you don’t think it is that good. Look at the stuff you did five or ten years ago. You never know when you will find a wonderful gem that you can use in a newer piece of writing.

It’s like having a wayward and perhaps slightly stupid child. You wouldn’t throw that child out would you? Then why not be proud of your wayward and slightly stupid writing:) Love it, embrace it and then use it:)

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Keep An Eye On This One

Tomas Suski

There are times when you meet someone who is perhaps slightly talented, but it is rarer to meet someone who is exceptionally so. I met one such person some years ago in Edinburgh. By birth he is Polish and he is what I would describe as a film polymath. Who is this wunderking: Tomas Suski aka Wotan (hey don’t ask me why).

I had the pleasure of appearing in one of his films for a fleeting twenty seconds, and I believe but could be wrong about this that it was his first full length feature.  Called “All Secrets” this film is both moving and entertaining in equal measures. Tomas has managed to gather a fantastic team, and then put together something that is a holy grail for film makers: a movie with heart.

You can see more of his work here:

If he doesn’t make it big I will eat my hat, and I don’t like the taste of hat Tomas so don’t let me down eh!

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