A not so big festival

This summer has been really hot, redolent of ’77, so it was great to chill in the garden of a big old country house in Kent. The occasion was an annual gathering of friends and family that’s been happening since 2003, and a jolly, inclusive event it was too.

The day’s creative workshops ended in evening performances where everyone was encouraged to contribute to the entertainment: so the stage and campfire saw songs, skits, poetry and jokes. There’s so much joy to be had in amateur performance; ordinary folk authoring and sharing their creativity and experience. It’s empowering, affirms our common humanity and reminds me of how Indian stories don’t end.

Everyone can perform something – eating crisps whilst playing musical statues is harder than you might think.

We’re all in this together

We’re all in this together:
Cameron’s Big Society diktat
But in Babylon for every one step forward,
Someone’s taking two steps back.

Tighten the public purse strings,
Turn financial crisis into gain,
Wills and Kate are with us – they bought their own champagne.

The Eurocrats and plutocrats,
take unaccountable decisions,
as Goldman Sachs, the vampire squid, consolidates its position.

Boua-zizi lit the fuse,
Facebook wound the Arab Spring,
The Occupy movement found its feet and radicalised camping.

We marched in March to stop the cuts,
And again outside St Paul’s,
We marched to stop the 1% leaving us with sweet fuck all.

You’re not alone in wondering if any truth is known,
as life passes at a low interest rate,
and you fiddle with your phone.

The Sun and Star should follow,
The News of the World’s demise,
And if Jezza keeps the left together,
The NHS might just survive.

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