Buck vs. Cash

Tomorrow is the British General Election. It's still too close to call, but many polls are suggesting a small Tory majority. In my seat, Westminster North, the Labour candidate Karen Buck is up against the Tory candidate (a so-called Cameron Cutie) Joanne Cash; so, Buck vs. Cash. The Lib Dem is one Mark Blackburn. This seat is considered the 61th easiest for the Conservatives to swing their way (they need a little more than a 3% swing to take it from Buck). So, I, like many other voters, am faced with a choice - to vote for my preferred party, the Lib Dems, or vote tactically, to help keep Cash out. This is a tough call, because while I don't want there to be a Tory government, I also am loathe to support the morally-bankrupt and exhausted Labour party; New Labour was ugly to behold. However, I admire the way Brown has been (finally) expressing his truer convictions. If only he'd found his soul sooner.

Brown and the Bigot: A Susan Boyle Moment In Reverse

Poor Gordon Brown - he has been caught on microphone, calling a 65-year-old woman he had met on a meet-and-greet, a "bigot".  The media has played it up, and Brown has apologised on BBC radio (filmed doing so, head in hands), and also has called her to apologise in person - and then emailed his party to apologise too.  The BBC is calling it the worst moment for the Labour party so far in the election - an election that already sees them likely to come third behind the Tories and Lib-Dems.  However, this may garner sympathy.  If the woman did want to restrict immigration to keep out Eastern Europeans, she is, by definition, a bit of a bigot.  Brown actually does seem to care, and actually does have integrity.  His fault seems to be that he called it like it is.  Perhaps he was too quick to say he was sorry.  Still, the BBC news is emphasising the Janus-faced nature of the comments - that Brown would speak to a Labour supporter one way in person, and then fulminate against them immediately after in private.  Bad luck seems to hang over Brown like a fug. Tonight, this seems to be playing on and on, and snowballing.  The most famous Duffy in the UK may now be Gillian, not Carol Ann, Duffy.  This is Brown's Susan Boyle moment, in reverse.

Tied Tongues

Last night's leader's debate - aired on the dastardly Sky News channel - yielded no clear winner.  Indeed, the earlier Cleggmania has faded somewhat, as the new dog with the new tricks became old hat.  He used names looked into the camera, and basically made the same claims about being different.  Ho hum.  But Clegg did have clear and different policies on Europe, Trident, and immigration - all left-field and quite brave.  Brown was better than I have ever seen him: angry, principled, and informative; he seemed to have a fire in his belly at last.  He claimed Nick was anti-American and bad for security, and David anti-Europe and bad for the economy.  Cameron - to my mind - was the weakest - though his calm upper-crust "Gap Yah" delivery was at least less shaky than first time out, and he seemed to score points about the campaign literature scare tactics that Brown may or may not have authorised.  Eyewear is now on the fence, between Labour and the Lib Dems.  I wait to see the last debate next week.

Clegg Up

It seems to be universally held that Nick Clegg, beforehand something of the Invisible Man of British politics (in league with his henchman, Vince Cable, the self-styled Elephant Man, so an extraordinary leage of gents, then) has won, hands down, the first-ever leaders debate in a modern British election.  Televised (that barbarous word!) and radio'd out to a vast audience of over ten million, it was almost as if three new Dr Whos were being rolled out.  Gordon Brown started very badly, and never stopped being stiff and grimace-wracked, often smiling oddly - but his level tones, and fact-filled answers impressed; he knows the names of the helicopters everyone else wants more of.  David Cameron (perhaps rattled by meeeting me) forgot to mention his Big Society - as if his manifesto had evaporated in the bright lights of the studio.  Instead, he appeared normal enough, but not exactly over-impressive.  Clegg, though, was positively Clintonian - using questioner's names, and playing the same record over and over - he is different.  In fact, the three parties can be summed as follows.  Clegg: Give Difference A Chance.  Cameron: Hope Over Fear (wasn't that the pedo slogan from Donnie Darko?); and Brown: Ringfence the Police, Schools and NHS.  It'd be great if the debates cascaded into real life and made a voting impact.

Animation Free For All!

The Labour party in Britain has just unleashed a series of free animated manifestos from the land of chalk drawings.  They're awfully cute, and even rather funny.  Will they tip the swing voters back?  Meanwhile, Gordon Brown now claims to be a fan of Lady Gaga.  I am trying to square that one with his circle, or rather, circle that with his squareness.  On another bat channel, Cameron and Co. are offering a government we can all join (without the smell of the sedan leather, as one BBC pundit put it this morning) - which means WE get to set up the schools, run the fire departments, clean the wards, and fire bad cops - making Britain the first fully-functioning Fisher-Price kingdom.  Very juvenile all this.  What is Clegg offering - free candy-flavoured unmentionables?

Posh Boy Sighting

A curious incident this morning: as Eyewear came home from Heathrow by cab, around 7 am, I spotted a handsome youngish man in a dark designer suit bicycling alone in North Kensington.  It was the Leader of the Opposition and likely future PM Mr David Cameron.  Not wasting a moment, I asked the driver to stop, stepped out and briefly chatted with the somewhat startled cyclist.  I wished him a sporting good luck, and he thanked me, and sped off.  Oddly, and impressively, he seemed genuinely unattended by ostentatious security of any kind.  Sometimes the UK is impressive for its eccentric and open ways - suggestive that Britain is not all that broken.  Note, thought, he was not wearing a helmet!  And, on top of Sam Cam's lack of a seat belt the other day, that's a security risk too far.  Safety first, lady and gentleman, please!

Man, Oman

I am just back from a very fine week in the Sultanate of Oman, trekking in the mountains, desert, and spending time by the sea reading. Oman is an exceptionally interesting country, a small nation on the Arabian peninsula connected by its historical, cultural, religious, and sea-faring ties, as much to Africa, Asia, as to the Middle East. A predominantly (moderate) Islamic country, it is not as oil rich as its neighbours, so it has had to diversify its economy. For the past 40 years it has been ruled, benevolently and intelligently, by Sultan Qaboos, who has won international awards for his far-seeing commitment to environmentalism. Oman is also a leader, in the region, in education, health, and eco-tourism. Oman is mainly a gravel desert, and mountainous, country, very hot and humid most of the year (it is bisected by the Tropic of Cancer), with some monsoons in the summer in the south, and a cooler breeze along its long coast (the Arabian Sea and the Gulf of Oman).

Politically, it is diplomatic, and has had ties with Britain, but also has worked with Iran, among others. The country has been stable for the past 40 years. The people of Oman, based on those I met, are universally friendly, welcoming, and pleased to show tourists around. They are proud of what their Sultan has achieved, and how clean and beautiful their country is; and of its history of forts and dhows. It's geography is stunning and unique. It is specially known for its "Wadis" - mountain-fed streams that form rock pools in narrow, palm-lined gorges (fjords) that rise thousands of metres on either side, and snake deep into the mountains, that lie off the coastline, inland a few hours from the sea. It also has a part of the legendary Empty Quarter, and has sand deserts, as well, where Bedouin still live. It also has several of the world's finest luxury resorts, including the Chedi in Muscat.

As my 43rd year was the worst of my life, I wanted to turn 44 in a different place, and to explore a different culture. I had always had an interest in Arabia, but had never been there. So it is, my wife and I travelled to Muscat, via Bahrain, and spent a week touring, with Passion-Trek (recommended). Abdul, our young, handsome and athletic guide, was a lot of fun, and also thoughtful. We swam in hidden caves and remote Wadis (the best swimming of my life), as well as sinkholes, and the sea. One night, we camped in the desert. I had strong black coffee with the Bedouin (my first coffee in 8 months, as I have to be careful with my digestive disease), and avoided camel spiders and scorpions. We ended our vacation with two nights at the Chedi, the most beautiful hotel I have ever seen.

As it was my birthday the night we arrived, they upgraded us to a suite, and sent me a surprise cake - very sweet! The service was impeccable, and the giant fountains and palm tree garden outside our balcony were exotic and mesmerising. Every day was hot - none less than 34 Celsius, and night time the air remained a warm 30 Celsius. It was always sunny, or just slightly overcast. The food was mostly rice and spicy lamb, or chicken, or prawns, with an Indian or Asian bent. Oman offers the traveller unlimited opportunity for adventurous trekking, or pampered beach reading, or both, and the safe sense of the nation and its placid people was most assuring. I hope to return some day, and stay longer, exploring more of the mountains, and the south.

Blond Ambition

Eyewear is currently reading Blond's Red Tory, this new book that may or may not be Cameron's Third Way. In the meanwhile, let me say it is a pity the author doesn't seem to acknowledge he has not coined the phrase Red Tory at all - such progressive conservatism was de rigeur in Canada, for the PC party, for decades, and many great Canadian politicians have been called red Tories in their time. Blond does make a compelling case, as Eyewear often does, for a new space for values in British society, and calls the current State-Market nexus flattening - in the sense it leaves no community space for what used to be social good (as in Church groups, caring neighbours, genuine virtue, etc.). Blond is also good on the Broken Britain of young sex, young knives, and young drinking, where youth is bought and sold and marketed, cheapening everything.

The Lesser of Three Evils

The British election campaign has begun, more or less - and the voting is likely to held on May 6. Eyewear declares its support, without much fanfare, for The Liberal Democrats, led by Nick Clegg. Labour under Gordon Brown was faltering, indecisive, weak when not surly or arrogant, and, on Iraq, the Gurkhas, and MPs for hire, unimpressive. Eyewear does not support the cuts in taxation advocated by Osborne and the Tories, and suspects that beneath the Morrissey-loving exterior facade of father-to-be normalcy, David Cameron is still a bit of a retrograde toff, a Thatcher-Lite. If enough voters support the Lib Dems - who opposed the Iraq War, and, with Vince Cable, foresaw the banking crisis - then Britain might finally get what it so badly needs - a viable third party. A hung parliament would be good for these people, and for uz.

British Summer Time!

What a week. Champagne at the Ritz for Britain's top poets. Now the daffodils are out, the sun is beaming, and the clocks spring forward. It is officially British Summer Time! Break out the barbecues! Don the wetsuits, swim the ice-cold seas, and prepare for Andy Murray to lose in the finals of Wimbledon, after Gordon Brown loses in May. Better still, who can wait to line their hamster cages with all those Summer Reading Lists, compiled by the friends-of-writers? Of course, it isn't all grim - with all the rain will come rainbows. And the grass will grow greenly, pleasantly. And the sand castles will be knocked down only to be rebuilt. Soon, back to school, leaves falling, and snow on the line, grinding Christmas shoppers to a halt. 2011, and a new Eliot winner. The cycle of life!

New Gold Dream

President Obama has achieved the near-impossible - bringing sensible (and humane) health care to most Americans. A knife-edge and teeth-chattering down-to-the-wire House vote saw the Democrats just managing to do the right thing. Like in a wrestling match, the Republicans wore the ludicrous villain's mask and threw their bluster around like cheap seats. November may either see the good or bad guys thrown out like bums. For now, Obama has secured his place in history for a second time, and redeemed his first term. It's been 50 years coming, but this was worth the wait.

Goldberg Variations

Arguably the most visually-complex and witty real-time pop music video of all time, "This Too Shall Pass" by OK Go is must-watch YouTube viewing. Meanwhile, Americans and friends of America, must surely hope that Obama's health care package shall pass, today, too. If not, a lot more than paint will be spillled. There will be blood and tears, for decades, as well.

Brown Is Wrong

Gordon Brown has today confirmed that he believes the Iraq war was "right". Eyewear is of the opinion that Mr. Brown is wrong, and that said war was illegal, under international law, and an act of aggression; at the very least, it was deeply problematic and complex. The certainty that Blair and Brown brought and bring to this subject is troubling. Mr. Brown should be voted out of office at the coming election, if for no other reason than his position with regards to the 2003 invasion.

Foot Soldier

Sad news. The death of Old Labour seems confirmed with the death of the great Michael Foot, an idealist and Labour leader whose "longest suicide note in history" was none other than a long list of ethically valid and visionary demands. Foot falls into the category of those "peace mongers" and gadflys who sometimes get into positions of genuine power (one thinks of Jimmy Carter, perhaps Obama) and are then accused of weakness when their integrity and goodwill is thwarted by wicked and small-minded men and women, who argue that what is actually needed is electability and pragmatism. Stuff and nonsense. AH was electable, so was Bush. A lot of very evil people have been practical - see Arendt. In fact, what the world has always needed are idealists, dreamers, and far-seers - and those are the ones that too often get defeated, by the likes of Thatcher and co. Sadly, too, Tony Blair came along and sleeked and slicked the Foot vision, in the process getting elected to a vacuous platform in which, it now appears, only the interests of the rich and powerful were truly served (including arms companies, war mongers, and high financiers). Labour became comfortable with the filty rich, and less comfortable with the dirty poor. Foot's death reminds us of roads not taken. Brown could have been a Foot soldier, but has fought different battles. David Cameron is Thatcher Lite. What a world.

Obituaries: Fritz On Poole and Rety

Phil Poole and John Rety
by Leah Fritz

Phil Poole and John Rety, both people of significance to contemporary poetry, died within days of each other - on the 1st and 3rd of February, respectively.

John Rety was a founder of the Torriano Meeting House and managed the events there with his partner, Susan Johns, for 23 years. He and Susan also ran Hearing Eye press which published pamphlets and books by both well-known and ought-to-be-well-known poets. John was particularly proud of the anthologies, In the Company of Poets and Well Versed, which he edited, but he took great pride in all the publications of Hearing Eye, whether or not they sold. Among Hearing Eye's publications are pamphlets of John's own work in both poetry and prose, sadly unheralded as the original and substantial works they are.

Politically John was an anarcho-pacifist. His daughter, the artist Emily Johns, following in his footsteps, is co-editor of Peace News. His political beliefs were his own, though. By definition, a true anarchist makes up his or her own mind about everything. An atheist, John abided religiously by his own strong sense of right and wrong.

Born in 1930 in Hungary, John's childhood and adolescence were dominated by the murderous antisemitism of the Nazi holocaust. Separated from his Jewish parents at an early age, he learned to survive by his wits. Although he sometimes took issue with the government's policies, John passionately loved the United Kingdom, in which he found freedom, his adored small family, friendship and the world of poetry.

He also became a grandmaster in chess!

Last year, Phil Poole edited Torriano Nights, a festschrift for John Rety, which was published by Acumen and Phil's own Woodpecker Press. In it I wrote, 'John Rety and I have a lot in common: We both have roots in Eastern Europe, we are about the same age and we spent the sixties and seventies of the (sigh!) last century opposing the Vietnam War, albeit in different countries. So it's no wonder that I sometimes feel we are related by blood, and who knows - perhaps we are.' That's how close I have felt to him and Susan and Emily during the almost two decades I've known them.

Phil Poole and I, on the other hand, were on the periphery of each other's lives until recently.
Born in Birmingham in 1944, Phil moved to London in the 1960s and married Urja Burkhardt, a German artist, in 1988. They maintained residences in both Munich and London. A master woodcarver, Phil restored the woodwork surrounding the clocks designed by Pugin in the Houses of Parliament. He also produced some delightful, often amusing, sculptures, parts of which moved in surprising ways. One of these sculptures is on permanent display at the Torriano Meeting House, where Phil, as a poet, was an habituée. There he often read works-in-progress and occasionally performed as the invited poet.

Gradually Phil became more closely tied to the Torriano Meeting House. When Camden Council discontinued its grant in 2005, he wrote a spirited defence for the Camden New Journal. In his quiet, unassuming way, Phil organised a committee to save the Meeting House despite the council's intransigence, and the poets who frequented it came through in many ways to raise the rent money demanded.

A few months ago, Phil performed at the Meeting House and read some new poems inspired by the tests and treatments anent the cancer he had been diagnosed with. As one who had also gone through some of those the rites, I was especially intrigued by his humorous take on the awful processes.

The content of those poems caught my attention, but his skill as a poet held me. I sent him an e-mail to tell him how fine I thought his work was, and he promptly began e-mailing me more and more poems on various subjects: love, travel, history, politics and, of course, woodworking. I became convinced that a book should come out of this and suggested that he or Urja contact John Rety about publishing one through Hearing Eye. Phil was perhaps too self-effacing about them to do so, and Urja said she didn't know John very well - so I got in touch with him, and he and Susan agreed immediately. By that time we knew that Phil didn't have long to live, and so the race was on to get one out as quickly as possible.

Phil died the day after the decision was made, but Urja at least had time to tell him about it. I sent Susan the poems I had collected and she began editing the book. She and John asked me to write an introduction. John, Susan and I discussed my draft on the phone, and talked about how to organise the text of the book.

The next day John Rety died suddenly of a heart attack.

Emily Johns came to London to take her mother back with her to Hastings where she could mourn and convalesce from the terrible shock. Susan and John had been together constantly for most of their adult lives.

The typescript of Phil's poems had already been given to Martin Parker to print, and Susan asked me to put them in some sort of order. Somewhere within her Susan found the courage to go on with this project. She approved of everything before it went to press.

The book, Phil Poole's Poetry: A Collection, will be presented at his funeral on Friday, the 19th of February, at 3.30 pm, at Golder's Green Crematorium. From 5pm there will be a reception and poetry event at the Torriano Meeting House, 99 Torriano Avenue, Kentish Town.

The Limits of Power

Obama, as we know, could not stop the earthquake in Haiti (and even God didn't); humans can only do their best to help in the painful aftermath. In Britain, the DEC are doing a great job, and Oxfam is a part of that. Meanwhile, Obama is plunging in the polls - unable to answer the prayers of the left-leaning and the radical who raised him up merely a year ago. Never has the real in real politik seemed so disappointing. There are calls for more radicalism, or more centrism. Obama claims he would rather be a one-term wonder than a mediocre longer-lasting Prez. Yet that remains to be seen. A one term presidency that bequeathed the world Palin or Brown or both would be a disaster. But Obama is not to blame, alone. The American voters are more fickle than ice cream in the Alabama sun. The shameless desertion in the Kennedy backyard was bad. The general willingness to disregard the perils of global warming, and become petrified of universal health care, is far worse - the average American is ill-informed, perhaps self-interested to an extreme the rest of the world can no longer afford. Obama will only be great if he does great things. He has less than three years to do so.

End of the world or fantastic day?

Last night I was happy for the first time in four months; for a few hours I forgot I have to take six pills a day and am often in pain or discomfort. Friends took me to Cadogan Hall to see Nick Heyward reunite with Haircut 100. This band had only one album, Pelican West, which went to 2 in the UK charts in March 1982 before Heyward quit the next year to make his masterpiece, North of a Miracle, the great upbeat pop album of the early 80s. The show was only slightly marred by Heyward's Mike Myersesque eccentric tween-song ramblings. Actually the band was tight and hearing Love Plus One again and Fantastic Day - as well as A Blue Hat for a Blue Day - was a pure retreat to when we were all teenagers. This was my Buddy Holly - sweet clever love songs and fun clean tunes.

The audience was almost all late 40s and facebook fans. After the show which was too brief Heyward mingled in the bar with several hundred fans, smiling and genuinely bemused by the adoration. I hope for a Pelican East soon. However while last night reminded me of the power of pop and ska in the early 80s to instill hope and offer change - good songs for good young people - the failure of Copenhagen today and the rise of a Simon Cowell world of corporate pap music makes me wonder if the past may be a kinder ghost of promise than the future.

America can go to heck

The way many Americans have treated Obama lately - calling him a national socialist, a socialist, or a non-citizen - well, it is just too much to accept. Americans, who somehow briefly contrived to appear brilliant and brave when they elected the radical man, now appear dim-writted and reactionary at their reluctance to support him. Kick the yes-we-can hard as you want, Obama is still great.

Scottish Independence?

Those watching the events of the last few days, in which a principled, upright and devout lawyer stood up to his community to do the right thing, might think they were watching a Scottish version of To Kill A Mockingbird, or even, a play by Ibsen. More Ibsen than Lee, methinks, if only because such moral decisions always have deeper roots and more ambiguous, even tragic results, than intended. It is not enough to be moral, you might say - you must also be wise. A few refreshing things have emerged from this incident of the convicted mass murderer's release - a chance to see Scotland act as a government on the world stage, and a chance to hear Christianity openly discussed as a tool for making decisions. These good things have been offset, though, by the damage done.

As others have already observed, mercy needn't be excessive to be true, and there is nothing in the Bible, or Sermon on the Mount, about releasing murderers from jail (other than Barabbas). Indeed, the early (and very first) Christians often went to their deaths as martyrs, happily, and did not expect or even want early release. Since Marcus Aurelius, that emperor and Stoic himself may have martyred Christians, and often wrote of bearing up to terrible punishment, we can see a long classical history of not, in fact, releasing people as they are dying. Ethically and religiously, it may have been smarter and kinder to keep the man under guard, but also of course in good care and close to his family. Still, the decision was taken to snub Obama and do it anyway.

The bird has flown, the horse out of the stables, etc. What now? Brown's government looks like hypocrites, snarling at Libya and Scotland, but unable to articulate a coherent position, since they want to deal with the North African nation, and also want to punish the SNP, so can't appear too clear in their views. I had hoped for Scottish independence, personally, at some stage, soon. I'm two quarters Scots, by birth (my grandfather was a Hume, my grandmother a Fraser). Scotland has the history, philosophy, geography and the literature to rival Ireland as one of the great nations of these isles, and could go it alone, within the EU. Its chances - the SNP's chances - have been delivered a bad blow, I think, in the short term. They have looked amateurish and small on the world stage, or rather, idealistic but naive. They don't appear to be a government able to handle the nuanced diplomacy such moments require. On the other hand, the SNP has - at least - not retreated into the sort of deadly equivocation we too often get from the Brown brigade.

Blair Overreach Project

The news that Tony Blair is the UK candidate for the position of EU president is a revolting development. Blair single-handedly made Labour both electable and unacceptable, spinning a rotten coalition of Guardian and Telegraph readers, that tried to fuse a social justice agenda with Tory takes on war, justice, banking, and privatisation of various sectors of society - in the process making Labour the most draconian, war-mongering, and pro-business government the UK has seen since, or before, Thatcher. Blair's cringe-worthy lies on weapons of mass destruction and dalliance with Bush-Cheney (themselves now staring at a smoking gun back at Langley that makes the Bourne movies plausibly undeniable) make him the least-likely convert to Catholicism since Symons. He is a dreadful politician and a duplicitous weirdo who grimaces artifice. He must not be allowed to run and ruin the EU.