i told her straight ...

... that if she really loved me ...

... and if there had been an ounce of initiative in her, then in her spare time she could have dug a secret tunnel beneath the thames and up through the primeval clay in to the gilded glory of the chocolates vault at fortnum and mason

and then, perhaps, instead of frittering away more of my beer money on marriage guidance ...

outside the office of the marriage guidance counsellor

the classical origins of bart simpson's dance technique

what if the christmas ghost had been twins ?

you don't see lads like this in the king's road any more

the brazen hussy !

well, bless my soul ! if it ain't joe and eddy grundy ...

i was just trying to imagine myself in a roman slave market ... but would she be any good with a feather duster ?

don't fold your arms at me like that !

the countryside brought in to the town

that must be a lucky seven

saint george's parish church in bloomsbury

http://arts.guardian.co.uk/features/story/0,,1880284,00.html

ho ho ho corporate greed in america

corporate money says tasers don't kill

no wonder that youth despises law

http://www.azcentral.com/business/articles/2008/05/02/20080502taser0503.html

water water

a couple of times, briefly, i had the privilege of travelling through the beautiful land where the navajo live

their wonderful art and their philosophy come out of their religion, but for most their path to spirituality and happiness is blocked by the most bruising and insulting form of poverty

america's toxic abuse of democracy and basic human rights in it's own back yard doesn't help

click the link and read on ...

http://www.navajotimes.com/news/041708water.php

radio, radio

i drive a little german truck with a really clear stereo radio that sometimes lets me hear musical details i'd never noticed in over forty years

but it has an annoying habit of jumping stations whenever a stronger local signal tempts it

on may day morning at six o clock i was just trundling into the dreary industrial estates on the south side of gatwick airport and the first golden sunbeams came flooding across the street to bring up every texture and colour in the few lovely trees

as i swung through a little roundabout, the radio jumped stations again and suddenly the young bob dylan was singing mr tambourine man as if he stood next to me

these things can pick your heart up and hurl it head over heels into the golden past

tears came in to my eyes

fight ! fight !

this afternoon, i was reading a book about greek art outside the resuscitation room in saint george's hospital ... as you do !

suddenly i became aware that, out of the corner of my eye, in the extremely vague periphery of my vision, two shadows on the frosted glass windows of the swing doors fought in a violent and startling struggle

... then i realized in the next second that it was the shadow of the ward cleaner and his big duster

superstition

i took this picture from the back of the truck at six this morning whilst i was sorting out my deliveries

afterwards, when i pointed out the rainbow to the driver in the van, he told me that you should never point your finger at a rainbow ... saying, "that's what i were told when i were a lad"

let the sun shine in ...

hurrah for the national health service and hurrah for science and technology

after two miserable nights with a wisdom tooth that had gone off, worried that i might be overdoing the medication, i betook myself to the new charing cross hospital in hammersmith

i am still stunned, amazed, and overjoyed ... having found myself back on the street and free from pain in less than two hours

the national health service and all the people i have encountered there have been brilliant