Nigerian author China Achube was the author of 'Things Fall Apart' which was published in 1958. The book chronicled the life of thr Okonkwo and the complications that arise when white missionaries arrive in his village. The clash between colonialisation and traditional culture still makes the book relevent in today's globalised world. He was also a poet, professor, critic, humanist and friend of Palestine. He described himself as a storyteller. R.I.P
Interview on CNN African Voices
'The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceful with his religion, but we were amused by his foolishness and allowed him to satay. Now he has one our brother and our clan can no longer act like one. He had put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.'
- China Achebe ( from his book, ' Things fall apart.')
Today to mark World Poetry Day day an extract from Shelley's celebrated essay written in 1821 but published posththumously in 1870, from Essays, letters from Abroad, Translated and fragments.
' Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds. We are aware of evanescent visitations of thought and feeling sometimes associated with place or person, sometimes regarding our own mind alone, and always arising unforseen and departing unbidden, but elevating and delightful beyond expression: so that even in the desire and regret they leave, therte cannot but be pleasure, participating as it does in the nature of its object. It is as it were the interpenetration of a diviner nature through our own; but its footsteps are like those of a wind over the sea, which the coming calm erases, and whose traces remain only, as on the wrinkled sand which paves it. These and corresponding conditions of being are experienced principally by those of the most delicate sensibility and the most enlarged imagination; and the state of mind produced by them is at war with every base desire. The enthusiasm of virtue, love, patriotism, and friendship, is essentially linked with such emotions; and whilst they last, self appears as what it is, an atom to a universe. Poets are not only subject to these experiences as spirits of the most refined organisation, but they can colour all they combine with the evanescent hues of this eternal world; a world, a trait in the representation of a scene or a passion, will touch the enchanted chord, and reanimate, in those who have ever experienced these emotions, the sleeping, the cold, the buried image of the past. Poetry thus makes immortal all that is best and most beautiful in the world; it arrests the vanishing apparitions which haunt the interlunations of life, and veiling them, or in language or in form, sends them forth among mankind, bearing sweet news of kindred joy to those with whom their sisters abide - abide, because there is no portal of expression from the caverns of the spirit which they inhabit into the universe of the things. Poetry redeems from decay the visitations of the divinity in man. Poetry turns all things to loveliness, ; it exalts the beauty of that which is most beautiful, and it adds beauty to that which is most deformed; it marries exultation and horror, grief and pleasure, eternity and change; it subdues to union under its light yoke all irreconcilable things. It transmutes all that it touches, and every form moving within the radiance of its presence is changed by wondrous sympathy to an incarnation of the spirit which it breathes: its secret alchemy turns to potable gold the poisonous waters which flow from death through life; it strips the veil of familaiarity from the world, and lays bare the naked and sleeping beauty, which is the spirit of its forms. All things exist as they are percieved; at least in relation to the precipient. ' The mind is its own place, and of itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' But poetry defeats the curse which blinds us to be subjected to the accident of surrounding impressions. And whether it spreads its own figured curtains, or withdraws life's dark veil from before the scene of things, it equally createss for us a being within our being. It makes us the inhabitants of a world to which the familiar world is a chaos. It reproduces the common universe of which we are portions and percipients, and it purges from our inward sight the film of familiarity which obscures from us the wonder of our being. It compels us to feel that which we percieve, and to imagine, that which we know. It creates anew the universe, after it has been annihilated in our minds by the recurrence of impressions blunted by reitiration. It justifies the bold and true words of Tasso: Non merita noms di creatore, se non Iddio ed il Poeta.'
Today, George Osborne is expected to unveil a further £2.5 bn in cuts but their programme of austerity is simply not working. It will be undoubtedly the same root, he will tell us their is no alternative, to his slash and burn approach to economics, but to all who can see, the Tory's austerity measures are not working, and the bankers are still sitting pretty and laughing. Where was the opposition yesterday, when they abandoned support for the poorest by allowing Ian Duncan Smith's retrospect workare legislation to pass into law virtually unimpeded. The mind boggles!!
Writer and activist Arundhati Roy, interviewed on Democracy Now on the tenth anniversary of the Iraq invasion, 19 March 2013. She also says Barak Obama is no different from Bush or Blair. Fresh evidence has been revealed about how M.I.6 and the C.I.A were told through secret channels by Saddam Husseins foreign minister and his head of intelligence that Iraq had not active weapons of mass destruction. http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/mar/18/panorama-iraq-fresh-wmd-claims despite this Bush and Blair led us into nothing more than organised mass murder.Their support for this unjust invasion has long been seen as morally indefensible. They are nothing more than war criminals. Long since the removal of Saddam Hussein, the Iraqi people have experienced violence and political disputes. All they long for now is peace and security.
We are living in a world Where imagination is disenfranchised power takes its daily throne dictates to those down below With barrage of pictures words invading Poetry can at least mend, be a healer. Last night, went looking for reason Because nothing made sense anymore, How far are they gonna take us Before the push becomes too great, When we wake up in the morning And all are ideas are extinquished, Everything worth looking at Currently erased and vaporised pasturised and modified Sugar coating has its place but while world in division this poem has no room for it. As they try to forget your voice follow the trail of glistening strands, Where ink never dries all divisions cancelled out, takes refuge in language the politics of bardic dream. Refuse to be compromised easily controlled or manipulated keep your mind free, efferuvesent unleash all your buried treasure with free will, do not compromise release sincerity and passion.
Today I remember and pay tribute to Rachel Corrie, Peace activist and humanitarian. Her courage and determination and resistance on behalf of the Palestinian people will never be forgotten. R.I.P Rachel, she has inspired many of us and her spirit lives on.
Brutally murdered by the illegal occupation she was crushed to death by an Israeli armoured bulldozer in Rafah, Southern part of the Gaza strip, on March 16th, 2003. Justice has never been served for her, along with many others who have been killed under the Israeli regime. In 2005 Corrie's parents filed a civil lawsuit against the state of Israel. The lawsuit charged Israel with not conducting a full and credible investigation into the case and with responsibility for her death. They sued for a symbolic one U.S dollar in damages to make the point that that the case was about justice for heir daughter and the Palestinian cause, she had been defending. In August 2012, an Israeli court rejected their suit.
The struggle continues against demolition and occupation of Palestinian homes and lands.
Looking forward to seeing this new documentary by one of my favourite film makers Ken Loach. Which is in cinemas from today.
On all accounts an impassioned documentary about the spirit of unity which buoyed Britain during the war years. Carried through to create a vision of a fairer, united society.
'1945 was a pivotal year in British history. The unity that carried Britain through the war allied to the bitter memories of the inter-war years led to a vision of a better society. The spirit of the age was to be our brother's and our sister's keeper. Ken Loach has used film from Britain's regional and national archives, alongside sound recordings and contemporary interviews to create a rich political and social narrative. The Spirit of'45 hopes to illuminate and celebrate a period of unprecedented community spirit in the UK, the impact of which endured for many years and which may yet be rediscovered today. 1945 was a pivotal year in British history. The Unity that carried Britain through the war allied to the bitter memories of inter-war years led to a vision of a better society. The impact of this unprecedented community spirit in the UK, has endured for many years and which may be rediscovered today.'
Loach wants to follow up the general release, with Q &;A sessions to debate the feasibility of a new left party.
In the end Unity is strength, and I welcome Mr Loach's contribution,and support too, all those that fight back, but I do not look anymore to Parliament for rescue. Right now , in this age of austerity, our beloved Welare State is being torn apart, by a wrecking crew long past caring. We need a new spirit , a coalition of resistance, as the failure of capitalism implodes all around.
Meanwhile on the screens tonight, this evil spirit of nauseousness and nastiness, the smell of sulphur fills the air.
This should be watched with consideration to all other media accounts of rioting:
'The Battle of Trafalgar: An account of the anti-poll tax demonstration 31st March 1990, one that is radically different from that presented by TV news. Eye witness tell their stories against a backdrop of footage showing the days events as they unfolded. Demonstrators' testiomonies raise some uncomfortable questions. Questions about public order policing, the independence and accountability of the media and the right to demonstrate.'
Next month sees the introduction of the Bedroom Tax, a policy that seems to be in total chaos at the moment. We must not forget that the Poll Tax was eventually overturned because resistance was so high. When the bedroom tax hits us, again the people will not take it quietly. When people get the taste of bitterness and venom there will be implications, and it will not be pretty.
Bad poems I sometimes cut into pieces Don't like to throw them away, This one hangs by a thread Perhaps if I add a word like rescue It might just about save her Or a random phrase,a statement of intent, And if I now reveal, there is no spring Only the waiting and anticipation, Outside, knitted together, pencilled with menace. There is uncertainty in every thought These words could disappear in a moment, Tomorrow, could reappear in another arrangement Perhaps you will hear nothing, only emptiness Maybe this will be enough ,for this one to survive.
