No woman in a burqa (or a hijab or a burkini) has ever done me any harm. But Men in suits missold me pensions and endowments, costing me thousands of pounds. A Man in a suit led us on a disastrous and illegal war. Men in suits led the banks and crashed the world economy. Other men in suits then increased the misery to millions through austerity. If we are to tell people what to wear, maybe we should ban suits.
The next time you disregard my feelings,
Be certain you don’t need me in the future.
I’ve burned my bridges
And I am free at last
All my chains
Are in the past
The day is wide open
The sky is blue
The world is a miracle
And so are you
The New Life starts here
Racists, bigots and stalkers
Banging at my door
I’m not fighting with them
Friends, Family and Pretenders
How do you do?
I can make it
With or without you
Citizens of the world
Child, woman and man
The keys to the kingdom
Are in your own hands
The New Life starts here.
An intellectual superstar of impeccable integrity and rigour.
A contemporary of Sartre and de Beauvoir, Lanzmann was a dashing figure whose films about the Holocaust remain exemplars of honesty and good faith.
Elvis was conscripted and quiff-cut by the same powers of deep self-loathing that energise Trump, Republicans, bonkers White Evangelicals, the cowards of the NRA and their Fox-brainwashed followers. May Elvis pish on them all from the broad plains of Heaven.
When a party goes from Lincoln, to Reagan, to Bush, to Palin, to Trump, it’s no mystery why Republicans don’t believe in evolution.
I gather by my side a gang of misfits, crooks and dorks
They make me feel intelligent, the king of all the Orcs
I get my information from the liars at Fox cable
Of all geniuses who lived I am the greatest, and most stable
Who gives a damn if a tramp dies?
It’s not enough that we succeed, we still need others to fail.
So every time the curtain falls on some forgotten life
It is we all stood by silent and indifferent.
I’d like to buy a good
Used paper back bible
Too much time to kill
Too much wasted air
Too much everything
No need to think
Here above the clouds
I am free of all the crowds
I float above the surf
And I feel the rush of love
And I have always thought
That hand guns were made for shooting people
Rather than for sport
Guess I’d like to sell
A good used paper back bible.
There’s no way out of here, when you come in you’re in for good
Great God I don’t believe in you
Pale God I had a dream of you
How you respond when your ego’s bruised, your fantasy exposed
Oh how you will make them pay with Vest and hired Van
Whining God who the fuck are you?
Come here, come and hear my heart
Cos when the world breaks you will feel the blast
The World is exhausted. Wreckage all around.
There are no answers here, when you look out you don’t see in.
The very Heartbeat of Britian.