under another sun

Up late, having got up at 4:45 my head buzzing with stuff on the poem and having to go to my desk and write it down for half an hour or so. Then back to bed, and didn't get up again nine. Lorraine seeing assorted pals and her personal trainer, so I had a day to myself. This mainly meant writing, and then the gym. As I did so I listened to various politics podcasts, all fixated on Trump. The idea that they would re-elect a fascist who has already inspired a lunatic insurrection beggars belief. These events are like those in 1930s Germany, that people after the war looked back on in bafflement.  I watched a documentary on iPlayer called Total Trust: Surveillance State  about state surveillance and digital social control in China. Completely Orwellian, and terrifying. It reminded me of a Black Mirror episode, where you literally score points for conforming and lose points for thought crimes.   Spoke to Toby this evening, finally having returned his car to Canada where crossi...

Lorraine and I up early today, as the gas pipe from the main in the road was being replaced by the gas company. I had thought they were going to be hammering on the door early. At least it meant Lorraine and I got up early, and got on with things. Lorraine made a fabric basket, and I had a good morning's writing. Chris arrived with a thermal camera, to look at a part of our wall that has damp. It's a fun toy, and he took a picture of my head with it, as well as the wall, and when he put his hand on the wall, the warmth lingered for a while later. Lorraine then off to take Pat and Maureen to Eastbourne. I had a recording with Robin at two, which was fine, except the gas people rang the bell almost as soon as we began talking. However they had done their business outside the house without having even to employ pneumatic drills etc. Win.  Recording was fine, and nice to chat to Robin. After this, I ook myself off for a brisk walk by the sea. Lovely subdued colours. Then another ha...

Up early, and got to work with Keith at 8:30. A bit of a slog for this early in the year. Tired by the end of the day. A couple of very brief walks in rubbish weather. In the late afternoon I had time to phone mum for a chat. In the evening, after Keith's Virgin had crashed again and I had faced the prospect of presenting alone to the Americans, all went fairly well. It makes me feel odd talking to Americans. A year on from last year's insurrection the BBC's Americast podcast was saying the majority of people who voted Republican last time, still believe that Trump won. Democracy in the US has been hanging by a thread. In fact sanity itself has been hanging by a thread. With QAnon and other conspiracies raging in the US, even down to our own Prime Minister telling  outright lies every time he opens his mouth, a sense of truth is hard to find. But for sentient Americans this must be an alarming time. Done with the Americas at eight, I flew downhill to the Shahi to join the c...

Wide awake at five today, and as soon as L was getting up, keenly checking the news from Washington. Astonishing to hear unrepentant Trumpists without shame or regrets. This morning, Biden's victory has been rubber stamped by the senate, although there were still shameful Republicans calling the result into question. Meanwhile the orange devil has belatedly been silenced by social media platforms at least for a short while.  This led to a couple of podcast shenanigans, with Robin understandably wanting to remove a tiny bit when we were laughing about Trump's will-he won't-he business. Otherwise the episode is listenable here . Mario is a profound guy these days and his interview is genuinely interesting.  Feeling edgy this morning. Not helped by news about covid surging, democracy teetering, I took myself off for an early walk which helped. Lorraine battling off to school again first thing.  When you do a similar walk often, it is amazing how everything looks different ev...

 I got up in the night for a couple of hours, thinking about Charlotte's book had released a few ideas of my own which were spinning around in my head so much I just got up to write them down so I could get back to sleep again.  A peaceful day. Lorraine is finding that Saturdays are recovery days for her. We had a nice walk around Blakers park and into Preston Park. A warm and sunny day. I read a little this afternoon, and Lorraine and I watched coverage on rolling BBC news about Biden and Harris victory, and the hilarious events around the press briefing in Philadelphia, where instead of booking the Four Seasons hotel, for the Giuliani's idiotic defence of Trump, and casting unproved aspersions on the voting process, the found themselves in the carpark of Four Seasons Total Landscaping, after a booking cockup. Hilarious. More hilarious was the fact the Landscaping outlet was next door to an adult bookshop selling dildos etc. and opposite a crematorium. You couldn't make it...

Just as we were going to sleep last night we remembered that our kaput clothes drying machine was being collected. Up very early today, then, and Lorraine and I had to drag the blinking thing out of the dungeon onto the street. My plan was to meet Innis for a stroll on the beach, but had to biff this, having to wait to pay the collection people who turned up after 11: two young lads on a lorry, one of whom tripped over on the path and swore volubly as if it were my fault.  This done I set off for a walk, but ten minutes in had to turn back for home again, as a delivery had been left outside. I popped the box in and turned back, but walked through the woods to ascend to the hill by a different route. Meanwhile I was listening to a series of lectures in the Great Lectures audiobook series, on CBT, and found this rather interesting. By the time I had reached the Hillfort, and stood in the sun, looking at the sun sparkling on the wrinkles of the distant sea, and the high downs either s...

Lorraine working at home this morning, although of course everyone else being told to run for the bunkers does not apply to teachers so back to work as normal come 11:30. So the first day of what they are calling the second lockdown (a watery seeming lockdown to me) was a writerly day for me. I thanked David the editor of Supernatural Tales for the acceptance of   The Grieving  and resent a version with fewer typos. Also finished another edit of my latest story, called Doctor Spotlight . In the afternoon uploaded the second Planet Poetry episode, and did a bit of social media trumpeting. The bit I like most is seeing it slide into the podcast on my iPhone just like the ones I listen to.  My walk transformed by the fact that the golf course now has no golfers again, so all the glorious space up there is free to saunter around in and absent of eighteen hole troublers -- and there were lots of people doing so. Gorgeous. Made the mistake of walking near two schools at chuck ...

 Beth popped in for coffee this morning, and in the Evening, Lorraine collected Sam from Brighton station and drove him to Chichester where Gary was having a belated sixtieth party. Gave Lorraine a good chance to talk to him. Otherwise we lay fairly low today. The weather fairly hideous, although we took a turn around Blakers Park in between the rain. Spoke to Mum. Read some fiction by Matthew Rees and an excellent poem Sarah Barnsley sent me for an opinion on whether it should have an epigraph or not. I thought it should and she said others had said that too. While Lorraine was out early this evening, I watched the third of the documentaries about Trump on BBC. It is chilling. Trump is not over yet, and despite him supposedly lagging way behind in the polls, I think the reality is very much tighter. Terrifying what another infliction of Trump will do the US, let alone the rest of the world. Infection figures are rocketing in the UK, projections are saying the impact of the second ...

Have been pencilled in for more work next week, working at home for an agency up in town that I worked in with Keith for a few months a few years ago. If all goes through, I will be working with Keith again. Otherwise all the usual things. Wrote some PK stuff, edited episode 2 of the podcast and went for another walk up and around the hill, pausing to look at the engine parts in the woods. Listening to a highly intelligent podcast by The Good Friends of Jackson Elias, a podcast about horror and gaming.  They had  two podcasts about current conspiracy theories, and I learned all about the madness that is QAnon , the far right conspiracy that is every kind of blended madness: democrats and celebrities, particularly the Clintons, are running a global Satanic pedophile ring, the Trump is fighting a battle against the deep state, children are being farmed for blood products, time travellers are going back and forth in time to speak to tell presidents when they are children that the...

A terrible night's sleep again, a chain of nightmares about getting lost in dark versions of London, that led me to start awake feeling horrible.  Felt a little sluggish today as a result. An absolute scorcher of a day, however. I took a couple of walks to get up to 10k. The Golf Course now recaptured by golfers, which in a way is better as there are fewer of them, and if you stick to the paths you can still thread around the place. Lorraine off to work again, in fresh clothes and a positive attitude. Heard from Val today, and all mes amis in Paris have been okay. She wrote 'I must say your Prime Minister remains a mystery to me.... the way the UK has managed the crisis is clearly not at the level of this country.' (She meant France.)  Her sister was running a C-19 ward in Quebec, but came through it without getting the disease. There was also a smidge of work from them too, which I did this afternoon. I wrote to Ben with an idea for a stained glass window. Had a Face...

A calm start with a short meditation from my Plum Village App.  Recommended to Lorraine by Sian, and is the best one of its kind I've encountered, free and full of lovely meditations that I've only just started working through. The morning spent completing the first draft of a website about parasites. At lunchtime I sent it to  mes amis and made off to the gym. Learning about Resucsi Anne and L'Inconnue , which was mentioned in a horror podcast. Fascinating. Apparently the face used in resuscitation mannequins is that of an unknown girl fished out of the Seine in the 19th Century. Although the BBC article I have linked to, questions just how preserved the face looks. Home again, and I did some admin, wrote a review of Keyhole  (a collection of short stories I'd highly recommend), arranged to meet Helen to discuss the Centaur, and spoke to Mum who had been out in London. Watched part one of a BBC documentary series about Thatcher. Funny to see times you clearly ...

Up early and to tell the plumbers we don't want plastic. The stuff should be here on Monday, and the installation can resume, I hope, now into its third week. As yesterday, trying to work with little avail, while waiting for plumbers to get back to me and so on. A nice chat with Sonia, and I went for a walk for an hour and three quarters, and felt a good deal better for that. Listening to The Painted Veil   by W. Somerset Maugham. For some reason I have never read Maugham before. Orwell admired him, and I can see why. There is a coldness and clarity about his writing. Nice to be out and about, but still very hot. Thunder here and there in Southern England, not not a spot of rain here. It is now clearly a drought. Meanwhile Trump is in England. Felt bad I did not go to the protests in London, in some ways. But keyboard warrior that I am I put something on facebook and twitter. The ignorant narcissistic Trump was a disgrace, contradicting himself, in his usual modus operandi, ...

A day of working happily on my Skelton Yawngrave MS today. In a triumph of optimism over experience, I feel that at long last the real book is emerging. Worked from home doing this, and having some freelance related conversations, and Edinburgh related conversations by phone with Beth. After lunch I walked through the park and eventually settled in Starbucks where I did a good few hours work there drinking tea and a large Americano.  The novel  seemed quite far fetched when I started it several years ago. I imagined as a backdrop to the story a scary political movement attempting to take over the UK, creating a climate of fear and suspicion. Now it seems almost tame. A young guy I was sitting next to suddenly said, "You're writing a story! What are you writing?" as I was bashing away on Scrivener. I fell into conversation with a young Spanish Chilean guy, who was a budding writer of fantasy and science fiction, (it's always 'budding'). He was a great admir...

Hatches thoroughly battened down this afternoon, with a good deal of icy rain turning to sleet and a bit of snow by the time Lorraine got home. She'd sent everyone home on time from school. I spent the lovely day at my desk fiddling with poems and working on the novel MS, apart from a quick toddle to the bread shop, and a quick chat with mum. Watching Trump's press conference, it occurred to me that the Americans have actually elected the Devil. It is extraordinary that such a nakedly evil presence has gained such power in this world. A glimpse out of the kitchen window in the evening. Didn't fancy it, and the cats when forced to go out for reasons of personal hygiene, soon bolted back in looking affronted. Listening to music off and on today. Working to Reflection by Brian Eno, one of his better ambient pieces, which is praise indeed, and Bowie's Blackstar album, his final one, which is a quite jazzy in places. The song   Blackstar itself is becoming a favourit...

Got up and wrote a blog about Trump this morning for my other site. I am beginning to feel that this is no time for fence sitting. Signed off the flyer for the show,  and went into town to get a haircut, as the hair was all wrong. Sat there feeling a bit wan and tired, and told the barber I'd had a chest infection, and he asked me did I get it shortly after a flu jab, which I had. He said he'd spoken to other people who'd had evil chests after their jabs. It's probably coincidence, but I enjoy a good conspiracy theory as much as anyone. Did some Beth based birthday shopping too, then bussed home feeling tired. Very windy today. Cooked for Lorraine, and we had a nice quiet night in together as the weather got worse.

Went for a couple of walks, and worked quietly on freelance stuff about homelessness for much of the day. Still coughing and snuffling as I have been the whole week. Greatly oppressed by the Trump victory. Conversations with cousin Wendy via Facebook, she is worried about her friends of colour in the US. The world is on a knife edge. But hey ho. Life goes on for the time being. Lorraine out this evening, Beth back home tonight, and volunteered to cook us a risotto. I'm reading Postmoderism, A very short introduction , by Christopher Butler, whose evident skepticism about the whole movement is quite refreshing. A view at sunset down towards the sea from the north of Brighton from the top of Surrenden Road on my walk this afternoon.

Just before I woke up this morning, I had a very clear and detailed dream about how Hillary Clinton had won the US Presidential election by 26 points. Sadly this good news was in a parallel universe. In this reality,  there was the grim reality of a Trump victory. It wasn't a surprise to me, as I had a gut feeling he would win. Not least because like the Brexit campaign, it he had a much better slogan. I can't remember a year when I have felt so personally dismayed by politics, and the world's wilful blunder into danger. Otherwise a day of working on homelessness, from the safety of my office. Still feeling ragged and underpowered with this chest infection. Decided to let my pals in Chiswick know that I would not be coming to their Christmas party tomorrow. A four hour return journey, only to hack on friends and colleagues didn't appeal. Beth, also snuffling and coughing, off to a meeting this lunchtime where she has secured some new part time work. Pulled my horn...

Working on French stuff today. My brain sluggish and coldy still. Keep feeling enticed by books, anything in fact other than what I am working on. I wanting only to read books and think about books and poems. Went for a few walks today, to oxygenate my brain. Particularly nice walking along through a thin strip of woods with the golden crisp leaves underfoot. A feeling of intense happiness pervading me, that only such an Autumnal walk can provide. When I was in my teens and very early twenties I wrote poems about the autumn. But now I mainly think of lovely Autumn poems, such as Keats' Ode To Autumn, and A Leaf Treader by Robert Frost. I have been treading on leaves all day until I am Autumn-tired. I'm finding such interludes very precious. Working from home means I have the news for company when I am snacking at lunch. And the news is uniformly nauseating, and now Trump suddenly looks like he might be elected. Two political catastrophes in one year.  All the vileness that ...