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.