South Bound

The great seaside town of the south beckons. and I'm off in search of one of the most neglected authors of the 20th century, Patrick Hamilton. Brighton figured more than once in Hamilton's books, hardly surprising really as he lived there at various times in his life. His masterpiece was undoubtedly 'Hangover Square', a grim yet brilliant account of obsession fuelled mostly by alcoholic drinking binges, set in a time of the rise of fascism, just before the outbreak of World War 2. However on this trip, I will be on the trail of one of his 'Gorse Trilogy' books, 'The West Pier'. The Pier itself, is now a disheveled wreak that is slowly but surely falling into the waves of the English Channel (see earlier blog), but through Hamilton's rich, dark, descriptive prose, I hope to make the pages come alive, and the characters likewise. Watch this space.

Visionary Tales

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I may be wrong, but it seems to me that the great eastern town of Norwich have far more respect for their heritage than my hometown of Leicester. One prime example is the beautiful, mystical St. Julian's, which is located in St Julian's Alley, between King Street and Rouen Road in a rather plain district of Norwich. It was here that Julian of Norwich ( as she became known) lived the life of a recluse for the last forty years of her life. Julian was an Anchorite nun, and it was in a period of desperate illness, that she received the visions for which she became well known. It was on Sunday, March 8, 1373 when the 'divine revelations' began that were to change her life forever. There were sixteen in total which shown God in a more benevolent light, a God of love which was quite unusual at that time in history. The chapel itself is set near a car park, but manages to retain a sense of wonder and is well worth a visit whether you are a person of faith or not. And credit must be given to the City of Norwich, for maintaining this gemstone of history.

The Past Uncovered

Last week, I was fortunate enough to be close up and personal with a microcosm of Medieval Leicester, recently uncovered, and seen through the scruffy glass of of an empty shop door in the Silver Arcade.

A kind passer-by told me I could get better shots by just moving a couple of metres and entering through another door, loosely held in place by two silver screws. I entered, closed the door behind me, and carefully avoiding the pigeon droppings and grime, walked backwards in time to the centre of a medieval courtyard.

Looking up at the leaded windows of this long forgotten timber framed building, I began to wonder how many people had looked down onto a world without medicine, running water, widespread communication, in a society that was rife with crime, plague sometimes famine where you were lucky to reach the age of 40.

The question is what is going to happen to this magnificent structure?. I truly quake with fear, when I look at recent events. is this like the Bow String Bridge, The Pump and Tap, Thomas Cooke building, to be evaporated in the name of progress. be aware Leicester City Council, the eyes of those who have a sense of history will be upon you.

In the meantime, I've included a couple of images from a trip to Wales last week. It's the grave marker for a daughter of a Roman Governer. or so I'm told. It now stands in the safety of a beautiful 19th century church, away from the erosive elements.

Sweeping Away The Past

Pinned up at the side of my Apple Mac is a letter from the Planning Department of Leicester City Council. It's was a response to my objection to the impending destruction of of the Thomas Cook building in Granby Street.
It was as cold and soulless as I expected it to be, but the real downer is the fact that Leicester City Council, has no respect for the city's heritage, or the opinions of it's citizens. They trample over the city's historic landscape, like a giant bulldozer, out of control leaving giant gaps and empty spaces which they say are for 'major projects'.

It's nothing less than historical genocide, and they should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves. I applaud the Civic Society who have done everything in their power to raise awareness of this despicable act, and those that have been out on tyhe streets in protest. But the horror show is not to end in Granby Street, so I'm told. The next victim is to be the All Saints Brewery in High Cross Street, leaving yet another crater deep in the heart of a city rich with veins of history that dates back to the Roman occupation and beyond.

And if that goes, why not dig up the Abbey Ruins in Abbey Park, and sell the ancient stones, to a local mason, remove cardinal Wolsey's grave and build another bloody office black, or car park. That's the kind of thought process that everybody who cares about history is up against. Short sighted, treacherous, vandalism. Where will it all end?.

Dress Codes - Who Decides?

Maybe my wife would disagree, but I'm usually quite a calm person, not given to quickness of temper, able to keep a cool head under pressure. However, I read something in the national press this week, echoed both on press and radio that France is to go ahead with the banning of the burqua in public places.

Firstly I'm disgusted by the fact that a European power would consider what is to me a breach of human rights. Secondly, that a particular garment worn by people of faith is seen as such a threat because I'm told, it doesn't 'fit in' with French society, whatever that means.

So, where does this end?, Shall we band Nuns and monks from wearing habits?, shall I remove both my crucifix and fish pendent from around my neck, becuase it doesn't fit in with our secular society?. If you can do one, you can do the other and in the blink of an eye we could end up living in a state akin to Orwell's 1984 nightmare. And what I find most appaling of all, is that the decision in France, was I would guess, decided by men.

This is 2010, and people should be allowed to wear what they like, where they like. Beware, they'll be coming for you next.

Stupid, Just Stupid

All of this year, I've been listening to Radio 4's excellent series A History Of The World in 100 Objects. It's a joint venture between the BBC and The British Museum, and for me, is one of the greatest programmes ever to be broadcast over the airwaves.

Recently, I paid a visit to the Museum, and managed to see 45 of the 100 images, and had the most enjoyable day. That's why my blood boiled with anger this week when I read of the attack by so mindless yobs who doused the Easter Island head with oil in protest at BP's sponsorship of the project. Like most people I was horrified at the oil spillage of the Louisiana coast, but pathetic vandalism is not the way to vent your feelings.

Lobby your MP, write to BP, stand outside their office and protest peacefully. but don't slip into the sewer mentality by defacing a works of art or historical objects just to gain cheap publicity, and that's what this was..cheap, nasty and utterly pointless.

The Party's Over

A couple of weeks ago, while I was 'offline from blogging' I cut into eight tiny pieces, my membership card to the Liberal Democrats. From the moment of inception, the new coalition government has done nothing but compromise their principles for possibly the most addictive drug known to humankind......POWER.

For me personally this is a step too far, and I'm disgusted at the Lib Dems (quite rightly called 'Con-Dems' in the MORNING STAR newspaper) for selling out, values to which they once held dear, or so they told us. It all leaves a very bad taste in my mouth, and I truly wonder what will happen to the party, come the next election. Having said all that, on a local level, I will without question support my local councilor, Lib Dem Peter Coley, who is and has been for many years, an outstanding and hard working member of our community. The same can be said for Roger Blackmore, who is to retire his council post next year.

Still on the political front, I wrote to the Morning Star this week, arguing that Bob Crow should not walk out of the coming TUC conference when the PM David Cameron is due to appear there, by invitation. Mr Crow was quick to respond, which has made me a very happy man. If you are interested to see both his and my letters, just follow the link from this blog site.