A Song For Ukraine
My father was a Cockney, who had a way with poetry.
Sadly, I have none of it to keep me amused in these dark times.
But here’s my simple reworking of the Dad’s Army song.
Who Do You Think You Are Kidding Mr Putin
If You Think We’re On The Run?
We Are The Boys Who Will Stop Your Little Game
We Are The Boys Who Will Make You Think Again
‘Cause Who Do You Think You Are Kidding Mr Putin
If You Think Ukraine’s Done?
Mr Brown Goes Off To Town
On The Eight Twenty-One
But He Comes Home Each Evening
And He’s Ready With His Gun
So Watch Out Mr Putin
You Have Met Your Match In Us
If You Think You Can Crush Us
We’re Afraid You’ve Missed The Bus
‘Cause Who Do You Think You Are Kidding Mr Putin
If You Think Ukraine’s Done?
Others out there can do much better.
Poetry In Walthamstow Bus Station
I was greeted by these poems and words on the shelters in Walthamstow bus station.
They are simple and different and even the supervisor was enthusiastic.
Transport for London now need to get the closely related Walthamstow Central station up to a similar standard.
Rocks and Climate Change: How We Can Stop Pulling the Carbon Trigger
Today, I went to another lecture at the Geological Society of London, the title of which is the title of this post.
The entertaining lecture was given by Bryan Lovell, who is Senior Research Fellow in Earth Sciences at Cambridge University. He talked about how 55 million years ago a rapid global warming effect called the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum changed the world forever and led to the creation of the first apes. Some of the proof of this is believed to be the unusual puddingstone found in places like Hertfordshire, which was created at the time. As he said the rocks tell us what happens if you don’t control global warming and that the earth can cope with it, but animals can’t.
One point he then said was that the oil industry can store safely underground the carbon dioxide captured from a coal-fired power station at a reasonable price.
He then said that although the scientific case has been established beyond doubt and even Shell accepts there is man made global warning, but we haven’t convinced ourselves of the need to act. He said that now is the time to tell the story written in the rocks – in verse, in film and in song. He was at Harvard in the 1960s and no-one got anywhere about convincing the Americans about the wrongness of the Vietnam War, until Joan Baez got involved. We need another Joan. And unfortunately someone, who could have written and performed something eloquent; Dory Previn, died on Tuesday.
Byron Hamburgers
I ate in Byron Hamburgers at Islington Green tonight. It was good and it made a nice change for me to have a real gluten-free hamburger and chips.
I also got to thinking about the similarities between my father and Lord Byron.
For a start they were both poets, although my father’s output wasn’t very large and was much less famous and was meant to be spoken with a Cockney accent. But then my father was probably a better printer than the noble Lord.
They both married women with the surname of Millbank, although Byron’s wife had a spelling of Milbanke.
And then just like I am a computer programmer, so was Lord Byron’s daughter; Ada, Countess of Lovelace.
But that’s as far as the links go.
Would John Betjeman Be Amused?
John Betjeman didn’t like Slough. So what would he made of this workboat on the Regent’s Canal?
Pride of Slough
He’d have probably giggled at it. But then he did write.
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
The complete poem is here. Slough has probably improved since he wrote the poem.
A Sweet Act of Kindness
Someone who used to work with me has just sent a card from the Lake District with an ode by Wordsworth on the front.
Intimations of Immortality
There was a time when meadow, grove and stream,
The earth and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore ;-
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
I like getting cards like that. It was a nice touch.
Saudi Arabia’s Got Talent
This headline in The Times caught my eye. The first paragraph describes a hit show on TV throughout the Arab world.
Much of the Middle East will grind to a halt tonight as an audience of more than 20 million gathers round television sets across the Arab world for the final of the hit show Million’s Poet.
But the surprise is that one of the five finalists is a housewife with four children from Saudi Arabia, who appears fully vielled in black.
Three weeks ago, she stormed into the penultimate round with a blistering attack on extremist Muslim clerics. Her poem, The Chaos of Fatwas, denounced those who issue hardline religious decrees, comparing them to suicide bombers as “monsters wearing belts”. She attacked the segregation of the sexes maintained by preachers who “prey like a wolf” on those who seek progress and peace.
Her performance won an ovation from the audience and the highest mark of the round from the judges, who praised her courage and honesty. As the scores were announced, she punched the air.
She has received death threats for what she has said, but it would appear that she has certain backing from the King.
The West may blanch at Saudi Arabia’s human rights record but Hilal is full of praise for King Abdullah’s efforts to drag the country forward in the face of the same opposition and bile that she has endured in recent weeks.
Radical clerics were outraged when the kingdom opened its first mixed-gender university last year. Fatwas have been issued calling for those who promote equality of the sexes in education and the workplace to be put to death. Through it all, the elderly king continues to force the pace of change.
I wish Hilal all the luck in the world in the final of the contest.
The Anonymous Widower 