dog dream - Patti Smith

have you seen
dylan's dog
it got wings
it can fly
if you speak
of it to him
its the only
time dylan
can't look you in the eye

have you held
dylan's snake
it rattles like a toy
it sleeps in the grass
it coils in his hand
it hums and it strikes out
when dylan cries out
when dylan cries out

have you pressed
to your face
dylan's bird
dylan's bird
it lies on dylan's hip
it lies on dylan's hip
trembles inside of him
it drops upon the ground
it rolls with dylan round
it's the only one
who comes
when dylan comes

have you seen
dylan's dog
it got wings
it can fly
when it lands
like a clown
he's the only
thing allowed
to look dylan in the eye

FROM:-
Early Work 1970-1978
Patti Smith
W.W. Norton, New York 1995.

So happy 70th Birthday Bob Dylan
I doubt we ever get to the end of the story,
to believe in it, is often enough.
Don't ask me what it means I have no idea,
sometimes we learn , sometimes we don't,
the spirit of songs touched, through  the ages.
he never really gave an answer on China,
did he? Still as elusive as ever,
 practiced hard his techniques,
hey don't we all copy, imitate
I like it when he goes walking with raw poetry.
sometimes I can listen for hours, sometimes!
Long may his nasal twang call,
in the middle of nowhere,
rolling around like tumbleweeds,
solitary, sceptical, wise?
leading us
somewhere outside of our selves?

" May you have a strong foundation
when the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young."

ATOS ORIGIN THREATENS DISABLED GROUP WITH LEGAL ACTION.

In the manner of the school bully threatening to crush the smallest most vulnerable kid in the class, ATOS origin yesterday wrote to the webmaster and domain owner of www.afteratos.org/
a website run by a lone disabled woman who suffers from PTSP threatening legal action against them regarding libel and infringement of ATOS's copyright and rrademark on http://www.afteratos.org/

So the world did not end, we continue, and carry on regardless, and if we can pick on someone more weaker than us we will.

More Information

below

htpp://www.indymedia.org.uk/en/2011/05/479784.html

http://afteratos.org/

They say this isn't a poem - Kenneth Rextroth (22/12/05 - 6/6/82)

1.

All that is a harmony,
Otherwise it would not endure.
Harmony of the parts with the whole
Is the definition of goodness.
Therefore all that is good.
Man is part of all that is, so
He is part of its harmony.
Therefore he is by nature good.
Insofar as he knows what is,
He knows it because he is
Within himself a harmony
Of parts in a whole, of the same
Kind as all that is. Therefore,
The harmony of all that is
Without man can unite with
The harmony of all that is
Within a man as knowable
Good, an inner moral good.
But if this good is known within
By one party, man, it must
Also be known by the other
Part, All That is hence he who
Is in perfect accord with All
That is can act upon it
Without effect, with a kind
Of reprocity, like acts
Of the mutual love of friends.
How beautiful and specious
And how stinking with the blood
Of wars and crucifixions.

II

The order of the universe
Is only a reflection
Of the human will and reason.
All being is contingent,
No being is self-subsistent.
All objects are moved by others.
No object moves itself.
All beings are caused by others.
No being being is its own cause.
There is no perfect being
Being has no economy.
Entitieis are multiplied
Without necessity. They
Have no sufficient reason.
The only order of nature
Is the orderly relation
Of one person to another.
Non-personal relations
Are by nature chaotic.
Personal relations are
The pattern through which we see
Nature as systematic.
Homer, and all sensible
Men since, have told us again
And again, the universe-
The great principles and forces
That move the world - have order
Only as reflection
Of the courage, loyalty,
Love, and honesty of men.
By themselves they are cruel
And utterly frivolous.
The man who yields to them goes mad,
Kills his child, his wife or friend
And dies in the bloody dust,
Having destoyed the treasured
Labor of other men's hands.
He who outwits them survives
To grow old in his own home.

1956.

It's the End of the World as We Know It but I feel fine

According to an 89 year old man called Harold Camping,the  world is about to come to an end. Well tomorrow actually.
He's done this lark before though back in 1994, but now, according to him ,May the 21st is the actual day of judgement.
I quote hime here " It is the day that ends all gospel Salvation activity. It is the most important day by a billion times than any other day the world has ever known".
Hey we can all change our minds when we want to I suppose.Especially certain nutty religious fundamentalists.Some of them believe that tomorrow after raging storms and fires and earthquakes 207 million people will get decimated., but even then the world will not officially end until October 2011, oh dear, some people like to drag these things out.
Somehow the sounding of trumpets and eternal bliss and raptured cries I think I'll give a miss, hey ho, and  when the moment passes without anything happening their will still be those who cry , hey its gonna happen someday.Delusions are what make some people tick, I suppose.
Tomorrow here in West Wales I think the forecast is a bit of light rain. So I'm going to get some weed in and smoke myself into a bit of oblivion, and will be back here soon, in all probabilities.
I prefer a satisfaction that guarantees, but good prophesies I have been told often recquire unknown dates and imperfect signs.
So have a nice day, and I'll catch you sometime in the future, follow truth and freedom , remember to read between the lines.
heddwch/peace.

PATIENCE AGRABI (b.1965) - WHO'S WHO?

1.Beloved: Toni Harrison or Toni Morrison?
2. Famous Irish poet: Yeats or Keats?
3. Puppy Love: Donny Osmond or Ozzy Osbourne?
4. Blockbuster: Sweet  or the Beat?
5. Psycho : Anthony Perkins or Anthony Hopkins?
6. Passive resistance: Mahatma Gandhi or Muhammed Ali?
7. Playschool : Fenella Fielding or Floella Benjamin?
8. Space Shit : Chris Offili or Salvador Dali?
9. Some Llike it Hot : Marlon Brando or Marilyn Monroe?
10. She's Gotta have it : Mike Leigh or Spike Lee?
11. Pop art: Andy Warhol or Adam Chodzko?
12. Water Lilies : Monet or Manet?
13. Scary Spice: Mel B or Mel C?
14.Bohemian Rhapsody : Cream or Queen?
15. Split britches: PJ Harvey or PJ Proby?
16. Rowan Atkinson: Mr Benn or Mr Bean?
17. The Flea : Thom Gunn or John Donne?
18. Frankenstein : Mary Kenney or Mary Shelley?
19. Del Boy : James Mason or David Jason?
20. School Days : Nick Berry or Chuck Berry?
21. Rock dinosaur: Cliff Richard or Keith Richards?
22: Zorba the Greek : Anthony Quinn or Anthony Quayle?
23. Misunderstanding : Genesis or Oasis?
24.He's a Rebel : The Crystals or Crystal Gayle?
25. Rebel of the Underground: Tupak Shakur or Kula Shaker?
26. The Artist : CK Williams or William Carlos Williams? .
27. Other Lovers : Jackie Kay or Kathy Acker?
28. Prime Suspect : Helen Mirren or Karen Millen?
29. GBH: Robert Lindsay or Albert Finney?
30. Best of my Love : The Beatles or The Eagles?
31. Myra : Marcus Garvey or Marcus Harvey?
32. Composer: Engelbert Humperdinck or Engels?
33. To Celia : Ben Johnson or Dr Johnson?
34. How Deep is your Love? The Three Degrees or the Bee Gees?
35. Death Wish: Charles Bronson or Charles Manson?
36. Bring the Noize : Public Image or Public Enemy?
37. Call up the Groups : The Barron Knights or Barry White?
38. Red Light Spells Danger? Phil Oakley or Billy Ocean?
39. It's in his Kiss?: Cher or Shere Hite?
40. Poet Laureate : Andrew Marr or Andrew Motion?

FROM
TRANSFORMATRIX by Patience Agbabi
Payback Press 2000

TRUE POLITICS IS INCAPABLE OF REPETITION .

The old territories are shut off
tears are authentic, all politics is fiction.
Time and Space died yesterday
true politics is incapable of repetition
true politics is incapable of repetition
life and breath, effectively co-exist
true politics is incapable of repetition.
Total additions made, to clear space
the difference between nations
absence of logic, knowledge stolen
once recoveredusually reeling
the size and shape of an egg
can be divided by syncopated rythym
noises at dawn, will bring freedom.
" we are unidentified."
No value judgements here
" beyond the shadow of the night."
Madness makes storytellers of us all
when some prisoners escape
they head straight home.
Where will it end?this grinning circle
at the time this addition was made
true politics is incapable of repetition.
There are statements on the origins of nationality
that surreal enough often employ
elements for further discussion.
The State still has powers of Stalinist proportion
some things exploited for unique possibillity
the rich get richer, the poor get poorer.
True politics is incapable of repetition
true politics is incapable of repetition.

63 Years of Nakba / Day of the Catastrophe.

In  human terms, 1948 saw the mass deportation of a million Palestinians from their cities and villages, massacres of civilians, and the razing to the ground of hundreds of Palestinian villages.
Today some of us remember this.They still belong to this land, they were there for hundreds and thousands of years despite what some today are trying to change. They still remain, in their hearts and spirits, still holding and caring for the keys of their houses for the people who left, who managed to escape their occupiers crimes. Time drifts, but for many memory is never erased, still belonging to lands of ancestors, where hearts and minds can never leave.

Today, meanwhile almost 9,000 Palestinians are being held in Israel, in violation of International humanitarian law. In hundreds of cases, Israel forbids adult relatives to visit, so it is left to children under 16 to maintain the family contact.

Intifada means Revolution.
But Revolution does not mean violence.
Revolution means change.
A Jasmine Revolution is coming to Palestine
as it did in Tunisia and Egypt.
This Palestinian Revolution is near.
It is inevitable under oppression.

Lets not forget
in the meantime
free Palestine.

Atos: They simply don't care

A National  Protest Against Benefit Cuts is taking place throughout the week, with noisy protests expected up and down the country. Whether we see any reports of these events we will see.
Many protests are expected to take place both announced and unnanounced outside the offices and testing centres operated by Atos Origin.
Atos Origin have recently been granted, and have starrted a £300 million contract by the Con-dem Government to carry out 'work capability assessments' on all people currently on Incapacity Benefit.
It has been claimed that assessments will be used to test what people can do rather than what they can't. I feel the real purpose will be to strip vulnerable people from their benefits to pay for the bankers greed.
The testing system has already led to people with terminal illnesses and severe medical conditions being declared fit for work and having benefits cut. Our G.Ps are simply ignored in favour of decisions made by Atos's own accessors. I know of people with severe illnesses whose benefits have been stopped, pending an appeal, and many others who are scared witless.
Where  conditions have been stabilising over years and their have been intermittent periods of survival,  Atos is currently undertaking a process that robs people of their  dignity and have in many cases , made people more anxious than ever before. A lot of the examinations I have heard about seem to be based on simple trickery,the examinator  does not hold open the door for you or seek to help you in any way and simply ignores any signs of invisible illnesses, the internal unseen forces that cannot be detected by mere physical tests.
 It has been said in other parts that it is simply an excercise in robbing people of any dignity that remains. To date  however about 50% of appeals have been successful ,this proves that the means of testing cannot possibly be correct, yet this does not stop the worry or the fear. A lot of innocent people are clearly , but not plainly for the rest of the country to see, being treated unfairly.
Their have also been plans for the scrapping of Disability Living Allowance , and soon perhaps will be extended to everyone on some form of disability or health related benefit.

Meanwhile David Cameron is seen daily on the television and in the newspapers looking jolly and upbeat, ignoring the misery that he has inflicted on a few. A millionaire with no sense of what it it is to face invisible fears, and apprehensions, in a lot of cases, this is daily living, and the living is definitely not easy. He pays no heed  to people whoes experiences of life are mostly heart rendering. He parades his standards for all to see, and his friends the bankers, and those with corporate power idly get rewarded, as he divides the country into us and them. Poverty pimps is to nice a word.
Next after stealing peoples lifes , Cameron will turn to slice and carve up the N.H.S and other essential services.
It is always the same, I suppose , the rich get richer and those below the radar, are beaten down. The mainstream press collude with this and blame people on benefits, neighbours are turned against one another, the blame game spreads, whilst the real parasites grow stronger and stronger.
I confess I have personal bias,  personal experience, guess you know which side of the fence I'm on. Anyway this is not about me.
This is about the experiences of many other people up and down the country, who are being blamed for capitalisms worst excesses, who deserve respect and certainly some dignity.
Finally , when the legendary underground Edinburgh poet  Paul Reekie killed himself on June 10th, two letters were found on his table at the time - one informing him  his Incapacity Benefit  had been stopped, and the other that his Housing Benefit had been stopped.
I will let you judge for yourself. Atos abrilliant acronym by the way, simply don't care.
Show solidarity.
Fight the cuts.

 For more information see

  http://benefitclaimantsfightback.wordpress.com/

WE

ARE

NOT

WORTHLESS

WE

ARE FIGHTING

BACK

Hsu Ts'eshu ( chinaman, circa C16th) - Proper moments for drinking Tea.

When one's heart and hands are idle
Tired after reading poetry.
When ones thoughts are disturbed.
Listening to songs and ditties.
When a song is completed.
Shut up at one's home on a holiday.
Playing the ch'in and looking over paintings.
Rngaged in conversation deep at night.
Before a bright window and a clean desk.
With charming friends and slender concubines.
Returning from a visit with friends.
When the day is clear and the breeze is mild.
On a day of light showers.
In a painted boat near a small wooden bridge.
In a forest with tall baboons.
In a pavillion overloooking lotus flowers on a summer day.
Having lighted incense in a small studio.
After a feast is over and the guests are gone.
When children are at school.
In a quiet secluded temple.
Near famous springs and quaint rocks.

Terence McKenna (16/11/46 - 3/4/00) - On societies refusal to allow us to be idle.

" I  think the reason we don't organise society in that way can be summed up in the aphorism, ' idle hands are the devil's tool. In other words, institutions fear idle populations because an idler is a thinker and thinkers are not a welcome addition to most social situations. Thinkers become malcontents, that's almost a substitute word for idle, ' malcontent'. Essentially, we are all kept very busy... under no cicumstances are you to quietl inspect the contents of your own mind. Freud called introspection ' morbid' - unhealthy, introverted, anti-social, possibly neurotic, potentially pathological."

as transcribed to Tom Hodgkinson 1993.

as I've said before all life is work, in states of freedom we are released from the illusions of slavery.
Alternatively what was it that the great socialist William Morris say.

" A man at work, making something which he feels will exist because he is working at it and wills it, is excercising the energies of his mind and soul as well as his body. Memory and imagination help him as he works."

Ah, the dualities of life, for some a struggle every day. Some of us refuse to obey or conform, we can look at a meadow of beauty for hours without moving. For some however this could be hard work. But everyone of us twined together in our fragility, lifes rich differences, the shared humanity of us all.
It is our ideologies that actually divide,the  reality is the toiler or the idle share  exactly the same breath.
All of us skirting around the playgrounds of chance, perhaps.
Anyway,I for one in deep thought at moment, wondering how the dickens the tories have not been decimated, but that  is another tale, one I'd rather forget. The thought of them, makes me very tired.

"I didn't go to work today, I don't think I'll go tomorrow. Lets take control of our lives and live for pleasure not pain."

BUT WATCH OUT ATOS ARE ABOUT.

The Experiment - Broomtoad Coldsnap

a petri dish,
aireal view of Buckingham palace
the crowds, the host,
the virus, them.
ah again the experiment

Here's the Historical - moment.
The kiss -
the host is behaving, responding,
perfectly, roaring in priapic extasy.
( a spectral light swooning) ?

in majestic serenity
the transaction is completed
Heavy velvet curtains
billow a little, in a soiled wind
from the stained streets.

the fairy tale - told
was a success!
crosseyed subjects
moved gently away by police
wearing white gloves.

mandrake. twitches
incantation
a Tea leaf reading

Undecided. But don't call me apathetic.

Whose right, whose wrong, does voting make any difference?
Not much difference between any of them anymore, but the tories no, no, and no again....  the liberals have broken to many promises and colluded just for power's sake.
Do we want the same bloody system adinfinitum? I certainly don't.
Remember all the major paries would have cut, the tories I suppose  are finishing what New Labour started. The tories though a bloody lot worse, ideological driven, an enemy to progress, just wan't to go back in time, back to the 1920s.  Incapacity Benefit and Disability Living Allowance claimants were already in New Labours sites. Plaid around here am afraid have let us down with their proposed badger cull, cosied up to Labour.
The Greens, retain integrity though and have a ear for social justice , a radical edge, that has unfotunately been diluted by the rest of them.
Certain parties on the left stand once again , against one another, not united yet.

Perhaps you will choose freedom and vote for none, on the AV vote this could though be the last chance to any electoral change for years, and a yes vote would give the tories a good beating.
 However, stay safe on the streets when you find yourself in battle,  the freedom to demonstrate,at the moment, getting perilous, the police have decided they too can be political, with pre-emptive arrests recently, people are being presumed guilty before actually doing anything.
Yes this is democracy.
Will voting tomorrow change this?

Times are getting grimmer .....  but resistance is not futile

Do not most of us, lose all the time. Consensus government, as a friend said and numerical majorities do not a democracy make.
We will see, but don't call me fucking apathetic.
The least we can do is get angry.
The Welsh Assembly Elections are takin place tomorrow ,in case you wondered what I was blathering on about, and up in Scotland, and local elections up and down the country.

Oh and here's a quote from Emma Goldman

" The State is the altar of political freedom, and, like the religious altar, it is maintained for human sacrifice." 

Fuck Bin Laden R.I.P Ira Cohen (3/2/35 - 25/4/11)

So Osama Bin Laden. Dead or alive.  Has he not already been killed once, back in 2001.No chance of him inconveniently turning up alive. I don't know whether to believe this story.even less believable than the London Met. But if he really is dead why has NATO decided to retain 140,000 troops in Afghanistan. Perhaps they  know that a global terrorist network is looking for a new manager.
It's still indiscriminate hypocricy though. Many thousands more are killed and silenced by cluster bombs and bullets, buried under warped truth. History repeats itself like a curse. Do we seek  to stoke the flames of reactionary forces and division.Terrorists kill, Governments kill, what is the difference? Civilisation, oh look at us,  aren't we clever, still playing the old blame game, finding bullshit redemption.Undercover of the night, bodies lost at sea. Evil bogeyman killed, people rejoice and the killing carries on regardless.
Anyway here's a quote

" I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not recognise in the death of one. Not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. "

- Martin Luther King

Anyway,
I'm not going to surrender to hate,  I believe in a future one day soon where love will overtake. Another word is ours for the taking.
Even sadder news with the death of Mr Ira Cohen, freed from the fetters of hope. A poet and universal visionary , filmaker, bookmaker, friend to many,disciple of eclectism, shaman of insight, R.I.P.
and the dust so fine
these are suggestions
wave on wave
reach out
each ring
will be upon the wind
some of us forever invisible
carried on honeyed breeze
far in to oceanic jungle
staring out
as mountains erupt
volcanic storms
sway forever, forever , forever

Link to wiki entry on Ira Cohen.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ira_Cohen

 Ira Cohen in conversation.

Song to Nothing -Ira Cohen

And surely we will die without memory
coming to cold in the shadow of space
& if it isn't too late
for the star to love you
spraying the sky with whispers
attuned to galaxies hungry for flame
And if the togue of night sings
of Albino winos
till the morning light shafts
the doorway
then surely we will die tonight
faceless at the White Gate
sharing the smoke
with ancient shapes in future garb
and you stand somewhere there
on the other side
feeding on the painof dreamlessness
Where from the misty morning of
white shadows
& the unresisting need to destroy?

Samuel, Samuel, I beg it may be forgiven
that they may be driven
out of the black into the white
Only let the dazzle remain
for gamblers to surprise
the stragecic diamond, the throne
of compressed bone
in the unshored dark
where only light can forgive
& your mind is singed
Embers of echoes in the vastness
disguise the yearning to burn blind eyes
in arrogant displays of feeling?
Running wild these beasts will feast
on the newborn kind
for surely we will die tonight
unless we learn to ignore
what the others live for
on the other side of morning
& the skin of Nothing left by the same summer
masks the faceless wanderer

O let it happen
this wierd to discover
the shape of Beauty in everything extreme

for surely we will die tonight
whether we will or whether we
dream
O Samuel, forgive the dreamer
forgive the dream
The Song of Nothing is your lullabye.

Songs for the People - Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (24/9/1825 - 22/2/11)

Let me make the songs for the people,
Songs for the old and young;
Songs to stir like a battle-cry
Wherever they are sung.

Not for the clashing of sabres,
For carnage nor for strife;
But songs to thrill the hearts of men
With more abundant life.

Let me make songs for the weary,
Amid life's fever and fret,
Till hearts shall relax their tension,
And cakeworm brows forget.

Let me sing for little children,
Before the footsteps stray,
Sweet anthems of love and duty,
To float o'er life's highway.

I would sing for the poor and aged,
When shadows dim their sight;
Of the bright and restful mansions,
Where there shall be no night.

Our world, so worn and weary
Needs  music, pure and strong,
To hush the jangle and discords
Of sorrow, pain, and wrong.

Music to soothe all its sorow,
Till war and crime shall cease;
And the hearts of men grow tender
Girdle the world with peace.

HAPPY MAY DAY/ BELTANE

The government wants to move this day, to celebrate St George in April, or the battle of Trafalgar in October....... is this  because it's  the people day with all it's madness's and idiosyncracies. A time to remember rebellion, independent spirit, dissent. Clarion calling down through the centuries. Humankind's common unity. The celebrations and traditions of ordinary people.
Cameron does not like ordinary people,  does not respect them, then you'd expect that from a tory wouldn't you.
May your day be full of wonder, mischief and merriment...........
heddwch/peace

Pantomine's Pageantry - Not for me folks.

O.K perhaps we sometimes need a bit of magic to lift us up, in dark days, but does a fancy dress show of exteme extravegance and wealth, really do the trick. Have you not been amazed by the disgraceful fawning by the majority of the British media, every day ad infinitum,  it really is very difficult to ignore ,and makes me reach out for a  sick back everytime .Do they really have the popularity  that is accorded to them. Its really difficult to find any balance at the moment. What with the daily bombardment.
Hey I like it when people find love, love is wonderful, the world needs it, it's there for everyone, but the cost of this wedding is going to be about £20 million, and this anti democratic family are paying how much? Um  £100,000, that might seem a lot, but when you think that the Queen alone gets about £40million  a year, it really is loose change .In a time of recession, are there not other  things this government should be spending ourr money on, er, hospitals, schools , welfare for the poor amongst other things.
This wedding a mere distraction perhaps while this government of ours carry out the most destructive policies in living memory.
The Royal families kingdom is based purely on ancient and lets face it pretty rotten foundations, for me they are an overpaid and pretty phenomenally wealthy, and incredibly outdated obscenity.
Hey if they want to get married let it be, a simple registry affair, meet a few mates down the pub before hand , buy a round..., and no roads will be blocked, traffic paralysed, offensive slogans chanted and banners brandished.



But no whoopee they've given us a national holiday, but a lot of us ,the silent minority as the media are sarcastically calling us,are in mood for celebrating, and if I never see Nicholas Whitchurch ever again I will be extremely grateful, the B.B.C an organisation that I have long admired keep telling me stuff like William's just one of the lads and that Kate's a commoner, well if thats the case I really am on planet Zog. Kate  will now enters a world where she never does a proper days work again in her life and still get paid. Unbelieavable, as people on benefits are being called scroungers, and getting much needed support scrapped, here we our dishing out more money to a family who simply do not deserve it.
If the royal wedding never ended and the guests never left, how many dictatorships would achieve regime change? There seem to be that many despots attending. Perhaps  it should be made mandatory that the Church doors are blocked after the ceremony and let no one out.
Don't want to put a dampener on this fancy parade but I hear it might rain. As you are probably aware by now I for one will not be dancing , even though it's also international dance day, and save the frog day,  incidentally.The world apparently will be watching this circus. I simply don't believe it, and the hype is so disproportionate. If we do not see any dissent it's because the powers that be have simply censored it, in this twisted version  of reality.
I think I'll turn the T.V ,switch of the internet, its goin to be non-stop , a stuff of  nightmares. Anyway I will try my best to simply ignore it. Hope I've convinced some to do the same.
Have a nice day.

Viva Republic. Spread real love.........

http://www.republic.org.uk/

Time's Exhaust

'

picture by Rod Scneider

Weekend gone, sat in garden
in distant city, people distracted 
misplaced priorities, in search of profit,
consumerism running riot, everything out of control
safety and caution bypassed to save some pennies,
a broken  process caught up in its own denial.
watch as corruption simply grows and grows
meanwhile at home, sun out, minding it's own business
neighbour shouted across the wall,
"lovely weather, mate, especially if your not working"
" Yeah " I sighed, turned my trowel in rich earth,
turning wilderness into something
deeper still, tearing down walls,
finding immediacy, even when lost
embracing rocks and stones, nurturing moss,
underneath a thousand currents
rested in  the shadows of  infinite,
where future's nourishment
knows another notion,
in former days of work slavery
obstacles galore fed on emptiness,
digging now for survival
belief in nature's power is definite,
Every word , a seed of tomorrow's breath
time exhausts,  air is full of living dust,
the careless  delay of language
echoes across the centuries,
when all the clocks stop
we will see history that we will all remember,
reality traded for paradise
beyond the ruination of now.

Poly Styrene (1957 - 25/4/11 ) CANCER KILLS IDENTITY, CANCER IS A BITCH.

She had her ups, she had her downs, but she was a true fighter, an iconclast.
" Some people think little girls should be seen and not heard"

Mark Ryden - The Pumpkin President.

The Madness of Language - Anahita Alikhani

English is the most widely spoken language in the world, and is taught in every country.But  spoken and colloquial English is very different from the polite language which is taught in schools. For somebody like myself, encountering the everyday language when we arrive in Britain can be very perplexing. For example, I've discovered there is one word which can be used to express a huge range of feelings as varied as anger, disgust, happinness, joy, astonishement, drunkeness and so on.
An imaginary meeting between a foreign newcomer and a native of Britain can go smething like this:
- Where are you from?
- Persia
-Where  the ****ing hell is Persia?
- In Asia.
- Oh! ****ing long way from home!
- Oh yes!
- Hows the weather there ?
- Warm and nice.
- Oh ! ****ing brilliant! What the **** are you doing here?
- I'm a refugee.
- Oh, ****ing asylum seekers! Pain in the ****!
- Excuse me, do you have a problem? Do you have piles?
- **** ***!!!
-Excuse me, does this word mean yes or no?
- It means move your ****ing **** and go to hell!
I can imagine that in a hundred years or so, as the language evolves, this word might be used even more widely, for example on the news:
" This morning Her ****ing Majesty the ****ing Queen opened her ****ing Jubilee Celebrations..."

Saesneg yw'r iaith a siaredir fwyaf yn y byd i gyd, ac fe gaiff ei dysgu ymhob gwlad. Ond mae Saesneg Llafar, taodiethol, yn wahanol iawn i'r iaith lednais a ddysgir mewn ysgolion. I rywun fel fi, yn dod ar draws yr iaith bob-dydd wrth gyrraed Prydain, mae'n gallu bod yn ddryslyd iawn. Er enghraifft, rwyf wedi darganfod bod un gair y gellir ei ddefnyddio i fynegi ystod enfawr o deimladau amrywiol: dicter; ffiend-dra; hapursrwydd; gorfoledd; syndod; meddwdod, ac yn y blaen.
Gall cyfarfod dychmygol rhwng newydd-ddyfodiad o dramor a brodor o Brydain fynd rhywbeth fel hyn:
- O ble ti'n dod ?
- Persia
-
- Ble'r **** mae Persia?
- Yn Asia.
- O! **** o ffordd bell oddi cartre!
- O, ie!
- Sut mae'r tywydd acw?
- Twym a braf.
- O! ****** brilliant! Be'r **** wyt t'in wneud yma?
- Ffoadur ydw i.
- O ****** ceiswyr lloches! Poen yn y pen ol!
- Mae'n ddrwg gen i, oes gennych chi broblem? Oes clwyf y
marchogion gyda chi?
- ***** ***!!!
- Mae'n ddrwg gen i, ydy'r gair hwn yn golygu ie neu nage?
- Mae'n golygu symud dy ****** hun a dos o 'ma!
Gallaf ddychmygu, ymhen rhyw ganrif, fel y mae'r iaith yn esblygu, y caiff y gair hwn ei ddenyddio hyd yn oed yn fyw cang. Ar y newyddion, er enghraifft: " Y bore 'ma, fe agorrodd Ei ******
Mawrhydi y ****** Frenhines ei ****** dathliadau Jiwbili ..."

FROM : Gwyl y Blaidd/ The Festival of the Wolf.
Parthian 2006
in conjunction with hafan books, which provides outlet in Wales for the creativity of refugees, asylum, seekers and their supporters and to raise awareness.
SWANSEA BAY ASYLUM SEEKERS SUPPORT GROUP
is primary bebeficiary and can be contacted below.
http://www.hafan.org/

Have a happy Easter if your into that type of thing,
and remember remove all borders.

John Cooper Clarke ( b 5/1/49)- Apart from the Revolution, (some musings after Performance in April in Laugharne.)

Was lucky to see Mr Clarke, Sunday gone at the Millenium Centre down in Laugharne, as part of this villages very own Literature festival. On top form, their he stood before us, half stand up, half free verserfier, their was a full moon  & the tide was high, as so were most of the audience or so it seemed to me.
He entertained with his full dexterious verbiosity, Their he was ramshackle& gangly to the core, looking the same to me , as the last time I'd seen hiim way back in 1988 or thereabouts.
" Call me Johhny Clarke " he said " the man behind the hairstyle ".
Here was a master at work, patois working, motormouthing away to us grateful hoards , in the nicest possible way. 60 years young, lank like a beanpole his dark shades blitzing us whilst his acerbic rays unleashed. Valid social commentary shining bright, a poet on top, blazing ,alive.
Seeing the Bard Of Salford again was akin to a religious experience, so long have I worshipped this dark but bright light from afar.
When they called time on him, about 10 to 11, he seemed to have so much more to deliver.He wondered where he could get a bite to eat, " everything shut " cried a local. " Oh well he said", I think he said he'd see us soon, as he headed off into the night.
Me and my partner were hungry too by then, for more words, and yeah I suppose a bag of chips or something. Ah a wonderful evening, afterwards we took a stroll down to the bay to gaze at the moon, pay our respects, to Laugharnes's ghosts. We  wondered what Dylan Thomas might have thought. I think he would have acknowledged a mercurial greatness.

Laugharne Castle.

Anyweay hope it's not another 20 years before I see Mr Clarke again.

Apart from the Revolution.

Each drop of blood a rose shall be
all sorrow shall be dust
blown by breezes to the sea
whose fingers thrust
into the corners of restless night
where the creatures of the deep
avoid the flashing harbour lights
in search of endless sleep
there were executions
somebody had to pay
apart from the revolution
it's another working day

a million angels sing
peasants eating cake
wedding bells are ringing
the room begins to shake
the children free from measles all
have healthy teeth and gums
they live in the cathedrals
and worship in the slums
poverty and pollution
have all swept away
apart from the revolution
it's another working day.

Oh He ended on version of his classic Beardsley Street updated for now.
The following is not from the performance I saw.
Nice post over at rocket remnant's blog about the previous nights performance at Dylan Thomas's boathouse over on the right in the links.

Sod calm and get angry

Had so much to say today, but the computers are not working in the library. So I'm of in to the real world with a pissed of snarl. Hey the sun is shining at least.
Why do everyone I meet this morning seem so bloody happy,  is their a tory virus on the loose.
Their is a government .at the moment going round dismantling essential sevices, food prices are soaring, the cost of living is rocketing sky high, and theirs a man outside whistling away.
Am I simply on another planet , sometimes it seems I might possibly   be ,adrift  in my own space, oh hang on theirs a man in a badger suit outside haraunging  a local politician, ah thats more like it.  There about to be culled round here, ah their are people on this planet that care. Who stand up in this age and say no, loudly, thank goodness for that. Even if it means dressing up for the occassion.
Right I'm off, think I'll join the  living livid . Laters
Am  not a violent man but if I see a Tory I think I might whack one.
Oh and another thing
" The comforts of the rich depends on an abundance of the poor."
Voltaire.

Jean-Claude Charbonel & John Welson, Surrealism: The Celtic Eye

16th April - 2 July 2011

 

  Jean-Claud Charbonel - Le Chainon Manquant, 1998.

Looking forward to this exhibition, of two exciting vibrant painters, one Breton and the other Welsh. A true meeting of Celtic inspiration and imagination.

John Welson (b. 1953) has participated in over 200 exhibitions in both private and public galleries around the world since the early 1970's. From the late 1960's to the early 1990's he painted Figurative Surrealist Paintings, exhibiting with artists as diverse as Salvador Dali, Man Ray, Rene Magritte, Max Ernst, Lucian Freud and Damian Hirst. Since the mid 1990's he has produced Lyrical Abstracted Paintings inspired by the landscape of his native Wales,

Surrealist painter and sculptor and teacher Jean Claude  Charbonel'S (b. 1953)'s work explores the  mythical and legendary charge of Brittany, He has participated in numerous international exhibitions organized by the surrealist  movement. 

The exhibition is not too far away for me up at the National Library of Wales in Aberyswyth.Have rather fond  memories of  living there when I was a student back in the 1980's, and working there afterwards for, There's  a very decent record shop up there too, called Andy's Record's. so a journey beckons. More info below.

http://www.llgc.org.uk/index.php?id=1511&date=2&tx t

R.S. Thomas ( 29/4/13 - 26/09/00) - The Bright Field

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
the treasure in it. I realise now
that I must give all that I have
to possesss it. Life is not hurrying

On to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

Fernando Pessoa (13/6/ 1888 - 30/11/35) - Extract from The Book of Disqiet.

William Blake - The Ancient Of Days.

 Today, I do not hide behind or abandon myself to clinical labels, Today that is. I sit behind a keyboard that has enabled me to move beyond habitual wounds. This week is depression awareness week, for some everyday is depression awareness day.
Two years ago I never thought I'd be writing anything again. Today I still battle against the invisible currents circling around. Personally I have found through depression the ability to take a long and hard look at the world and take it apart at the seams, to once again critically engage in what were once disorientated moments of strangeness and  and fear and follow freedom's breath whenever it comes near.
I have been luck to discover true friends who have journeyed with me and my obstacles, making them closer still.
Everyone struggles, some of us unfortunately have to challenge every living moment.Statistics if you like that type of thing say that 1 in 5 of the World's population will succumb to depression at some point in their lifes, some of it will be short bouts, others will find themselves in its grasp for long periods of time.
At the moment the Government and the D.W.P ( Department of Work and Pensions) want to drown any confidence recently gained with their attacks on people on D.L.A ( Disability Living Alllowance) and Incapacity Benefit. People suddenly are facing the most stringent  evaluations of their mental health at a time when already full of indecision, their paths still unwinding. The most vulnerable of societies members being attacked  because of capitalism's greed.
I have found their is no magic formulae for the riddance of depression. Psychiatry I'm afraid often hinders and mountains overnight do not simply dissapeear.Medication often just masks problems and can make some people even more insecure.
Remember we live in a very hostile world, where people like to stigmatise and label. Yet despite this illness can be a liberating force, where specks of light set sail through black holes. Doing this blog has been just one aspect that keeps me surviving. Dance on we have nothing to lose but our chains.
The following extract to me paints a picture of depression in all its totality.
heddwch/peace.

From The Book of Disquiet.

It is one of those days when the monotony of everything oppresses me like being thrown into jail. The monotomy of everything is merely the monotony of myself, however. Each face, even if seen just yesterday, is different today, because today isn't yesterday. Each day is the day it is, and there was never another one like it in the world. Only our soul makes the identification - a genuinely felt but erroneous identification - by which everything becomes similar and simplified. The world is a set of disquiet things with varied edges, but if we're near-sighted, it's a continual and indecipherable fog.
I feel like fleeing. Like fleeing from what I know, fleeing from what's mine, fleeing from what I love. I want to depart, not for impossible Indias or for the great islands south of everything, but for any place at all - villages or wilderness - that isn't this place.  I want to stop seeing these unchanging faces, this routine, these days. I want to rest sleep come to me as life, not as rest. A cabin  on the seashore or even a cave in a rocky mountainside could give me this, but my will, unfortunately, cannot.
Slavery is the law of life, and it is the only law, for it must be observed: there is no revolt possible, no way to escape it. Some are born slaves, others become slaves, and still others are forced to accept alavery. Our faint-hearted love of freedom - which, if we had it, we would all reject, unable to get used to it - is proof  of how imagined our slavery is. I myself, having just said that I'd like a cabin or a cave where I could be free from the monotomy of everything, which is the monotomy of me - would I dare set out for this cabin or cave, knowing from experience that the monotomy, since it stems from me, will always be with me? I myself, suffocating from where I am because I am - where would I bretahe easier, if the sickness is in my lungs rather than in the things that surround me? I myself, who long for pure sunlight and open country, for the ocean in plain view and the unbroken horizon -  could I get used to my new bed, the food, not having to descend eight flights of stairs in the street, not entering the tobacco shop on the corner, not saying good-morning to the barber standing outside his shop?
Everything that surrounds us becomes part of us, infiltrating our physical sensations and our feelings of life, and like spittle of the great Spider it subtlty binds us to whatever is close, tucking us into a soft bed of slow death which is rocked by the wind. Everything is us, and we are everythuing, but what good is this, if everything is nothing? A ray of sunlight, a cloud whose shadow tell us it is passing, a breeze that rises, the silence that follows when it ceases, one or another face, a few voices, the incidental laughter of the girls who are talking, and then night with the meaningless, fractured hieroglyphs of the stars.

FROM:-
The Book of Disquiet,
Translated from the Portugese by Richard Zenith
( Allen Lane/Penguin Books, 20001).

Some useful Links.

http://www.survivorspoetry.com/

http://www.depressionalliance.org/

http://madpride.org.uk/index.php

THE FURIES - Joshua Sylvester (1598- 28/9/1618)

Orestes Pursued by the Furies -

John Singer Sargent.

War is the mistress of enormity,
Mother of mischief, monster of deformity;
Laws, manners, arts she breaks, she mars, she chases,
Blood, tears, bowers, towers, she spills, smites, burns, and
razes.
Her brazen teeth shake all the earth a asunder:
Her mouth a firebrand, and her voice a thunder,
Her looks are lightning, every glance a flash,
Her fingers guns that all to powder smash;
Fear and despair, flight and disorder, post
With hasty march before her murderous host.
As burning, waste, rape, wrong, impiety,
Rage, ruin, siscord, horror, cruelty,
Sack, sacrilege, impunity and pride are srill stern consorts by
her barbarious side;
And poverty, sorrow, and desolation
Follow her armies' bloody transmigration.


NO TO WAR
http://demilitarize.org/

John Giorna (b.1936) - Life is a killer

John Giorna was the star of the Andy Warhol movie Sleep (1963). He  has became known as a leader in the development of poetry as a performance and entertainment medium.He has done through his own performances and also with his Giorna Poetry Systems, which have bought him international audiences. Giorno poetry Systems is now a widely distributed spoken word record label, and subsequently Dial-A-Poem which he created in 1968 extends poetry into the medium of mass communication.
When composing his poetry, Giorno  imagines an audience in front of him. "Spoken word " he wrote. " using breath and heat, pitch and volume, and the melodies inherent in the language, risking technology and music, and a deep connection with the audience, is te fulfillment of a poem. It's the entertainment industry ( you got to sweeten the deal) - transmitting an awareness of ordinary mind. As someone said to me after a performance, 'I hate poetry. But I love poets who sweat.' For me performing poetry is sustained sexual activity in a golden age of promiscuity, You can never be too generous."
His books include The American book of the Dead (1964),Balling Bhudda (1970), Cancer in My Left Ball (1973), and You Got to Burn to Shine: Selected Poetry and Prose  (1993).
His record albums and CDs include Biting off the Tongueof a Corpse (1975) and ( A Diamond Hidden in the Mouth of a Corpse ( 1985). He performs solo and with the John Giorno Band.
A pervading macabre sense of humour underlies his work and a strong outsider Queer sensibility.A collaborator with Mr William Burroughs himself, his confontational work and his energy has been an influence on other  performance poets since and rock bands have been quenched and influenced by his ideas. He has also been a long time practitioner of the Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Bhuddism. In the last 20 years or so he has been active in the AIDS Treatment project, which gives cash grants to poets and artists with the disease, He lives in New York City.Recenty he has collaborated with the Spanish rock singer Jarvier Colis.

Life is a Killer

Everyone says
What they do
is right
and money is
a good
thing
it can be
wonderful.

Road
drinking
driving
around
drinking beer,
they need me
more than
I need them,
where are you guys from,
stumbling off
into the night
thinking
about it
stiumbling off into the night
thinking about it.

When I was
15 years old
I knew everything
there was
to know,
and now that I'm old,
it was true.

I got dragged
along on
this one
by my foot,
if I wasn't so
tired
I would have
a good
time
If I Wasn't so tired
I'd have a good time
If I wasn't so tired I'd have
a good time.

Tossing
and turning,
cause there's
a nest
of wasps
coursing
through your
bloodstream
cause there's a nest of wasps
coursing through your bloodsream.

If you think
about it
how could
it have come
to this
if you think about it
how could it have come to this,
it's coming
down the road
the red
lights,
and it's
there
and it's there
and it's there
and it's there.

Try your
best
and think
you're good,
that's what
I want
being inside you
that's what i want
being inside you
that's what I want being besides you,
endless
thresholds,
and you hope
you're doing
it right.

How are you
feeling good
how are you
feeling
good
how are
you feeling
good
how are you feeling
good
how are you feeling good,
you need
national
attention.

Cause essentially
all you
ever accomplshed
was snort
some smack
and sit
on a zafu
watching
your breath.

How the hell
did I end
up doing
this
how the hell did
I end up doing this
for a job?

I can't say
I don't need
anybody
cause I need
the Bhuddas,
and there's nothing
I can say
about them.

Everyone is at
a complete
disadvantage,
you're being taken
to dinner
at La Coter Basque
and youre eating
9 lives
liver,
and drinking
wine,
the women
they are taking
prisoners.
I'm not going
nowhere, I rippefd up
my suitcases
I ripped up my suitcases.

Crank me
up
and keep me
open
crank me up
and keep me open
and keep me open
crank me up and keep me open,
nothing
recedes
like success.

Whatever
happens
it will seem
the way
it seems
now,
it doesn't matter
what you
feel,
how perfectly
correct
or amazing
the clarity,
everything
you think
is deluded
eveything you think
is deluded
eveything you think is deluded,
life
is a killer.

1982

Quotes from ' You Got to Burn to Shine: Selected Poetry and Prose,
New York, 1993.

HEDGEHOGS OF THE WORLD UNITE!

Hedgehogs again active after winter hibernation.

' The hedgehog's meat is apple, worms and grapes: when he findeth them upon the earth, he rolleth on them until he hath fylled up all his prickles, and then carrieth them home to his den...and so forth he goeth, making a noise like a cart wheel. The prickly thorns on their backs will not suffer them to have copulation like Dogs or Swine, and for this cause they are a very little while in copulatiion, because they cannot stand long belly to belly upon their hind legs. With the same skin flayed off, and the prickles, brushes are made for garments, so that they complain ill which affirm that there is no good nor profit from this beast.'

Edward Topsell History of Four-footed Beasts 1607

' For a lunatic, Take a hedge-hog and make broth of him, and let the patient eat of the broth and flesh.'

Fairfax Household Brook. 17th/18th century.

That's allright then, but be careful how you go, remember do not trust the tories or their partners in crime. Let us not forget, we are still led, if not by a loser, then by a politician who has no trophy to show, no winners badge to wear, no mandate of the kind that gave Margaret Thatcher, Tony Blair and  even John Major an immediate bond with the electorate. Then again none of that lot were much good either. Oh dear, what matters to me in this moment in time is the fact that the tories are liars, as a hedgehog pointed out to me earlier it was their friends the bankers whose greed for bonuses eventually bought the whole current edifice down about our ears. The hedgehogs are not going to take this lying down and neither should we. United we must fight the cuts and kick out the Tories now.

PROJECTIVE EQUILIBRATIONS.... a kind of manifesto

Resist the order
celebrate diversity
shake rattle and roll
and all that jazz.
Tremble
through the night
toss the closed heart
through smashed windows.
Make rythyms
from recycled howls
join the dots
that until now have been
closed.
Follow whimper
the bark of the moon
disentangle
from the straight path
leave reason alone,
it will find you
if it must.
Swallow oblivion
inhale poison,
run wild
catch fire.
Slip from the sky
false gods,
false starts
become your own paradise
strangle power.
Abandon all positions
echoe the resonance,
liberate every enemy
renounce war.
Let every light be
for all,
applaud tolerance
messages filled with hope
decrie the battles
against mankind.
Nurse the spirit
that does not divide
speak and listen
to those who have the time.
Tear poems into pieces
recreant confusion,
drift into world's dimension
enjoy the breeze.
Plant away
shadows
for others to seek
do not by silence confess
your guilt.
Hold on
stretch beyond
conformity,
every direction shifts.
May illusion
shift through language,
through space
through time,
become profane, imperceivable
look for a sign
then rearrange,
infiltrate disingeuous links
never stop learning.
Consume integrity
dance with desire,
do not rekindle regret
pass it on.

Robert Desnos. (4/7/00 - 8/6/45) - Some Poems.

AWAKENINGS


It's strange how you wake sometimes in the middle of the night in the
middle of sleep someone has knocked on a door and in the extraordinary
city of midnight of half- waking
and half-memory heavy gates clang from street to street

Who is this nocturnal visitor with an unknown face
what does he seek what does he spy
Is he a poor man demanding bread and shelter
Is he a thief is he a bird
Is he a reflection of ourselves in the mirror
Back from a transparent abyss
Trying to re-enter us

Then he realizes that we've changed
that the key no longer turns in the lock
Of the mysterious door of bodies
Even if he's only left us for a few minutes
at the troublesome moment when we put out the light

What does he become then
Where does he wander? Does he suffer?
Is this the origin of ghosts?
the origin of dreams?
the birth of regrets?

No longer knock at my door visitor
There's no room on my hearth or in my heart
For the old images of myself
Perhaps you recognise me
I'll never know how do you recognise yourself.




GOOD DAY GOOD EVENING

Its night be the flame
And the red that colours the clouds
Good day sir Good evening madam
You don't look your age

What does it matter if your embraces
Make the twin stars bleed
What does it matter if your face is painted
if hoarsfrost glitters on the branches

Of granite or marble
Your age will show
And the shade of the great trees
will walk on your graves.



PARABOLA (2)



Parabola my nurse...
A parabola was bored in its cage
A parabbola wanted to land on the branch
The branch is too low
The sun too high
I watch the flight of birds
They fall then climb again
The branch is too low
The sun too high
There are some strange birds
Their nest is somewhere
Quite far from the earth
The branch is too low
The sun too high.



MY SIREN


My siren is blue as the veins where she swims
For the moment she sleeps on mother-of-pearl
And on the ocean I create for her
She can visit the magic grottoes of preposterous isles
There some very foolih birds
converse with crocodiles who never finish up
And the very foolish birds fly above the blue siren
The crocodiles return to their drink
And the island doesn't come back
doesn't come back from where it's placed
where my siren and I have forgotten it
My siren has some very beautiful stars in her sky
Blonde stars with black eyes
Red haired stars with sparkling teeth
and dark stars with beautiful breasts
Each night three by three
altenating the color of their hair
These stars visit my siren
This makes for lots of comings and goings in the sky
But my siren has seven boats on her ocean
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Saturday and Sunday
Some with steam and others with sails
Some rapid the others slow
But all beautiful all charming
with sailors who know their craft.

My siren has soaps in all shapes and colors
To wash her lovely skin
My siren has many soaps
One for her hands
Another for her feet
One for yesterday
One for tomorrow
One for each eye
And that one for her scaly tail
And this other one for her tail
And this other one for her hair
And another one for her belly
And another one for her back.

My siren sings for no one but me
I tell my friends to listen to her in vain
No one ever hears her
Except one, only one
But though his air is sincere
I mistrust him, he might be a liar.

TRANSLATED BY AMY LEVIN
FROM :-
EAT IT ALIVE, published by the University of Colorado
Boulder Creative Writing programme,
Volume 3, Issue 5,
December 1981

Paris born surrealist, founder of the Literary Surrealist movement, died at the age of 45 from typhoid, after the Red Army liberated Terezin, a concentration camp in Czechoslovakia.

.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Desnos 

 Last known photo of Robert Desnos, Theresienstadt concentration camp, 1945

Beer will change the World

Pause 11 Aberporth UAV event cancelled / An expensive Folly!

http://www.bepj.org.uk/

 The Aberporth UAV event planned for July 2011 has been cancelled. The Pause 11 website states.

West Wales Airport Ltd regrets to announce that due to circumstances beyond their control the PUSE 11 exhibition and UAS demonstation planned for 6 and 7 of July will no longer be taking place.

Every effort will be made to convene an annual unmanned systems event at West Wales Airport from 2012 when it is hoped the UAS market will be better placed to both participate and gain benefit.

The organisers extend their sincere thanks and apologies to all who have expressed interest thus far and hope they will look forward to participating in next year's event.

Judging by previous events held in Europe, Pause 11 was expected to be dominated by the military and was already gaining the attention of peace and anti-militaisation groups from Wales and the Uk. Protests and events by these groups seemed likely.

With one of the empty office units at Parc Aberporth already being put on the open market for rent the dream of a UAV "centre of excellence" seems to have turned into an expensive nightmare.

The Welsh Assemby Government reveals £17 million pounds has already been spent on the project, not including money spent by Ceredigion County Council on the roundabout at the entrance to Parc Aberporth, and the realignment of the B4333 road.

There are currently 37 people employed in the units at Parc Aberporth, but the WAG cannot provide information on whether they are full or part-time jobs or whether the jobs are taken by people  with local addresses.

Thanks again to Bro Emlyn Peace and Justice Group for the above information.Link to their site at top of article.

http://wales.gov.uk/publications/accessinfo/disclosurelogs/dlbus2010/2011/dl86/?lang=en

Right I'm off for a little drinky to celebrate.