I will be posting another Halloween short story this year on this blog on October 31st as usual.
This year I am also working on another piece which should be on the blog around December 1st.
Here is the picture for the Halloween story... sorry, no trailer this year due to lack of time...
Saturday, 29 September 2018
Wednesday, 18 July 2018
A revival in drug use: 2018, UK
This is not the kind of revival I wanted to report. A little while ago I saw two more syringes on my work break
on the streets of Birmingham. What had previously been a fairly rare experience
– seeing a syringe left on the ground - has now turned into a regular sight. I
was not looking for them. It feels as if drug-use is everywhere now.
I saw a man on spice standing in the street in the middle of
the sunny day as children passed by. He looked like a stereotypical zombie from
a George A. Romero film. It was the first time I had seen it away from the
news. People walked by, even the police, and no-one seemed to bat an eyelid.
That was, perhaps the worst part of it all – that we are used to it now. It
would be heart-breaking if we were not so desensitised to it.
I’m not talking about cannabis use – the smell of which
fills most towns and villages. I’m persuaded that Britain, as the main exporter
of medical cannabis should also make it available for those suffering and for
palliative care. I’m almost persuaded that cannabis should be made legal, but
not quite and that is not my fight – I would not support or oppose a move like
that, but I know that I can never smoke again because it would simply give me
flashbacks.
I once went back to my high school to give a talk to the
teenagers about the dangers of drug use. It was the one and only time I have
done this. The main question I was asked was ‘Why did you take drugs?’ (even if
I had limited myself to ecstasy, LSD, cannabis and amphetamines). For me the
reasons were mixed – I wanted to feel better when I felt bad and I wanted to
feel even better when I felt fine. So there was hedonism, there was a bit of
peer pressure, escapism – and maybe mixed in with all that there was a search
for some kind of spiritual meaning which I thought could be found through the
use of LSD. But not much of that – mostly I wanted to feel great – to have instant
mountain-top experiences, to experience life to the
full. My experiment spectacularly failed, but that's another story.
And back in 1992 it all seemed a lot simpler. All of the
drugs were weaker. But over the years they were rebranded and strengthened. The
pictures on the acid tabs always had an anodyne strawberry or a picture of Bart
Simpson – and they were designed to make you buy. These days the drugs trade is
even more sophisticated and the 90's rave scene now sounds... twee.
So why did I stop taking drugs? A drug-induced psychosis may
have helped, but so did a radical change in my lifestyle. I had an epiphany –
to put it simply I became a Christian. Got religion – someone told me that God
loved me and I believed them. Whenever I spoke about this after that time I
would always say that the best way to stop taking drugs was to have a radical
change in circumstances. Have a baby, get married, move somewhere new, find
God. I never devoted myself to that anti-drugs task – because I don’t want it
to define everything I ever do – I wrote
a few letters to papers, visited my old school and made sure that whenever
anyone offered me drugs I didn’t take them. Maybe I was simply salving my
conscience. But when you see the same things happening again to others, it is
hard to keep shtum.
But with harder drugs, things are worse now, making the 80’s and 90’s rave
scene seem, as I say... twee. And when our blood-stained streets are littered with
syringes then you know that something has to change.
Tuesday, 29 May 2018
The Story of Ziggy
We adopted Ziggy from a cat rescue centre and he was a
beautiful kitten. They called him ‘Beanie’ because he was as long as a runner
bean. All we knew was that he liked lego and would steal it in the night in his
temporary home.
When he first came to us he hid. He hid for three days and
three nights. We had adopted two kittens at the same time – Tilly and Ziggy.
Tilly would eat and drink and come for fuss, but Ziggy hid under the table. We
decided that he was on hunger strike and we worried for him. We tried
everything to coax him out, leaving him under the table at night with food,
water and treats, but he was having none of it. After those three first days I
had one of my too-occasional brain waves and decided to try to play with him
with a cat toy on a string. And it worked. Ziggy chased the toy round and
round, suddenly full of life, suddenly playful and more than that, eating and
drinking and allowing himself to be stroked.
After that we were inseparable. He was such a naughty cat,
terrorising Tilly and always sitting on the laptop or getting between our feet.
He looked even more like a runner bean as he grew – a cat full of life, who
loved treats, who would sit on window sills and talk to the birds in a kind of
catty chatter, the meaning of which is only known to catkind. He was such a
happy cat and he became very affectionate.
There was no cat naughtier than
Ziggy – he ruled the house with a face that looked like a fox – I called him
‘fox-face’ because his face reminded me of a drawing I once saw as a child of a
fox. And he became my friend. He was so intelligent that he even knew how to
turn on taps to drink from them or stash items he liked in hidden places. One
evening in winter he made the mistake of jumping onto the woodburner and leapt
from it with a hiss. He raced upstairs, jumped into the bath and turned the
cold tap on. He was no pedigree, but if cats went to university he would go to
Oxford.
We loved him and he was an active and lively cat, able to
jump crazy heights when we played with him. He clawed furniture to shreds. He loved
play and whenever we got home from work he was always there meowing for food
and pestering us as only a cat can. He and Tilly even seemed to form some kind
of alliance and the cat code was clearly that the humans should not be let in
on their secrets.
We spent three years with him and although he was always
thin he showed no signs of serious illness. Even when he got the pollen from
some lillies someone had given us around his nose and had an emergency
overnight stay at the vets, he was able to bounce back and soon resumed to
being a rascal.
We were overprotective of him because so many of the
neighbours’ cats had died on the roads. So we took him into the garden on a
harness and a lead. He loved that but we knew that he wanted full freedom. He
would meow to go out on his lead and his tail would be in the air as he
patrolled the garden and chased birds. He tried to jump the fence on more than
one occasion. Ziggy’s life was spent in escape attempts, but he was happy
enough and he loved his treats.
He lost some weight and we didn’t think too much of it. I
took him to the vets and they said that we should monitor him. But soon after that
he began to lose strength in his back legs, unable to jump as high as he could
before and we didn’t know what was wrong so took him back to the vets. They
noted that he had lost weight and that there was a lump in his stomach. We
agreed to let them take blood and do an x-ray and that was when we were first
told that he may have the wet form of FIP – a lethal cat disease which usually
only affects kittens.
We had simply thought that he had swallowed some toy, as he
had stashed of toys which he hid under the sofa or elsewhere. But we were told
the worst news.
His last days were spent free. When we took him off his
harness in the garden he looked up as if to thank us. And he spent his end days
chasing frogs, bees and butterflies. We let him stay in the garden as long as
he wanted.
Slowly he began to get a pot belly from the 'wet FIP' which
filled his stomach with fluid as shown by the x-ray. The lump was a gland and
we were told that FIP has no cure. We requested pain relief and were given
three doses of morphine for him. There was no way that we wanted him to suffer.
His appetite was good up until the end, but he slowly grew more depressed,
unable to jump and play as he used to do. Only Ziggy could get a rare cat
disease like FIP. Tilly seemed to know what was going on and let him eat first
and stopped scrapping with him.
He was sick in the night once but lived for a few weeks after
diagnosis. His symptoms were depression, jaundice, a pot belly and weakened
back legs. He began to walk with a stagger. On the final night we gave him some
morphine, on top of some butter which he licked away. We were unwilling for him
to be in pain. But he was a brave cat. The FIP was so quick to progress and we
knew that we didn’t want him to suffer. So as soon as we could see that he was
in pain and that it would only get worse we took him back to the vet who agreed
that we should put him down.
It was such a sad and dark day for us, but there was much of
the old Ziggy left and fox-face remained himself till he crossed the rainbow
bridge.
Which I believe he proceeded to claw into shreds.
Sunday, 6 May 2018
God and sport
With the world cup approaching this blog post is my first
blog about sport. My extra-curricular activities have taken a strange twist.
I shall also be blogging about the topic which has given me
the most views on Stories Make the World ‘Go Round. That topic is Christian
revival.
Because nobody – nobody – is talking about the
socio-economic implications of a revival today. What has happened before can
happen again. And if the chattering classes know their rumours then they will
also have heard and laughed at the possibility of a Christian revival happening
in the UK again. And after they have laughed, what then?
So people need to prepare and even choose sides. Choose
sides because people usually either oppose or support the need for a revival. Both
Christians and non-Christians. Depending on whether they feel it will be good
for them personally, or good for those they love.
Please indulge me as I blog about whether and why that
elusive magic that sports commentators lament has really left almost every aspect
of sport. Because nostalgia and sport have a lot to do with God.
I’m qualified to write this blog post simply because I’m
among one of the worst sports fans in the world. I’m the one who goes strangely
silent when people talk about football. I’m the one who says ‘I like watching
tennis and the world cup… and the Olympics.’ Which, I believe, among sports
fans is code for ‘I literally know nothing’, like saying to a music fan, ‘I
really like Phil Collins and the Now compilations’. I’m the one who was in the
school football team (left back) and partly responsible for us losing 10-0
almost every match. That, believe me, set me up quite well for Christianity
later on.
So, you can say, currently, there is no Christian revival in
the UK. There are a few ‘outpourings’ of a kind where people seem to operate in
some kind of genuine Christian gifting. There is Thy Kingdom Come (again) from
May 10-20th. But we are, in my opinion, effectively (and debatably)
in a declension in Europe and the West. How’s that for happy Christian jargon?
Look it up – a declension is a waning of Christianity, like the moon’s sad
smile going out. Despite various prophecies, there has been no revival. I’m
sorry. At least we tried.
There is a revival of politics. People who like Brexit or
Trump or Corbyn or Momentum or anything in between (or beyond, like the vocal
and scary alt-right). Sometimes Christianity and politics are mixed together
and that usually stinks, like a vision of ‘revival’ in The Handmaid’s Tale (even though that kind of ‘revival’ has never historically
happened). And as an aside to anyone who wants me to write a blog post about
the effect of a revival on politics – maybe do your own historical research –
have past revivals really led to retrograde changes in law? I’ve never been
talking about a revival of politicians. I’m talking about a revival of the
people – a revival from the source of true love. But here we are talking about
sport and it is way out of my comfort zone (stay in your comfort zone
long-suffering readers).
What there is not, is a revival of that missing ingredient,
that magic which most of us remember there once being in sport, usually when we
were kids. I know, I’m being dogmatic and subjective. I’m as much a contrarian
as anyone else and I’m making assumptions. Please indulge me – all writing
makes assumptions (‘No it doesn’t’ says the contrarian).
We need a revival in and of sport. For sports philistines
such as myself, it’s never going to be like the 80’s Olympics and Cram and Ovett
and Coe ever again. It’s never going to be that romanticised world cup win ever
again. Jinx. At least not without some kind of miracle. Nostalgia is a powerful
force and we romanticise the past. But what if it really was better back then? Would
a Christian revival mean that England win the world cup again? No-one can
promise that. The sports commentators may feel that something is lacking in
sport today, but how on earth is a Christian revival going to solve that
problem? Saying it would might just be more fake news, a narrative that never
was or could be. An obvious underhand attempt to link Christianity and sport in
order to appeal to the masses. Just like politicians do when they claim a
favourite team. Or worse, some kind of way to make money.
Instead, we have that most powerful of feelings - nostalgia.
You can’t promise it. You can’t pin it down. You may as well attempt to promise
that becoming a Christian is going to make your life better than anything
you’ve ever imagined. That would be a lie. I can tell you from experience that
it can make things better, but it also brings a whole shedload of trouble.
Trouble like an opposing team and a Coach who seems neglectful.
A modern Christian revival could make things better, even in
sport, but such a claim has to be limited to the facts. In this case we are
going to have to look at historical revivals and whether or not they ever made
sport better.
And you tell me how to research that? You will find a few recorded
anecdotes here and there about how the Welsh revival of the early 20th
century clashed with rugby. There can be historic links between football and
Christianity, the formulation of teams like Manchester City coming from
churches for example. We don’t want a history lesson about how the YMCA
actually created basketball and volleyball. We don’t want a long list of
Christian sports players who have made the game more exciting. Some of us want
it to be like when Daley Thomson won in the Olympics and that was all we ever
talked about at school, because he was an inspiring black role-model at a time
when there were too few of those for children in white-dominated comprehensive
schools. We don’t want to wade through millions of archaic words in the hope
that someone happened to say that the real reason everyone felt that way when
they watched their favourite sports hero was because of God. Because it meant
something.
Would people lose their jobs in sport if there were a
Christian revival? Doubtfully. These days there are many famous Christian
sports men and women all over the world. Revivalism doesn’t, or shouldn’t clash
and oppose those things that are considered good in and of themselves, like
sport. People could lose all kinds of shady jobs in industries like the drugs
and arms trade, if there were a revival, but sport is considered neutral in
faith terms. In fact, it is considered a little more than neutral because you
will often see the best from humans when they compete. And sometimes the worst.
You will see more than bread and circuses – you will see sports men and women and
teams who dedicate themselves and inspire people. And even if sports is the
politician’s circus for the masses, it is still a circus which fascinates,
influences and inspires. Like Christianity, you will get individuals who will
cheat, who enhance their game in unethical ways, or those who are only in it
for the money, but does this necessarily make sport itself a negative thing?
Sport has become a highly lucrative industry in which some
people say the magic has gone. Maybe kids today enjoy some of it as much as
adults used to do. But there seems to be something missing for those of us of a
certain age. I can play Eddie Kidd’s Jump Challenge or Horace Goes Skiing on a
retro computer and wonder at the way that sport has now exploded into this
strange monster that it now is (that’s personification by the way).
Politicians know the value of sport and so should believers.
Revivalists are no different. Billy Graham understood the necessity of linking
revival with sport. That was why he had some of his biggest events in sports
stadiums. He understood that if you could prove that God was somehow linked
with sport then you made Christianity a little less… boring. But there is no
revival and Billy Graham’s revival ethics clearly do not run in the family.
These days, even the revivalists need to repent. And everyone, always needs to
repent… except ourselves.
But is there a link? Is this a Christian fake news blog in
which I’m going to promise that Christians in sport have always been there and
when there is a revival you always find that missing magic? Not if I have a
shade of integrity left I’m not.
When I researched this blog I also found that during the
Welsh revival, people were told to stop doing anything ‘doubtful’. And for some
of them they interpreted that as playing and watching sports. It’s ironic when
you consider that the whole basis of revivalism is about freedom – about
freeing people up – that so many innocent pastimes get thrown out with the
bathwater. It’s like there being a revival when Christ was alive and then
Peter, witnessing his death at Calvary, and his coming back to life, suddenly
said ‘I’m giving up fishing’ now.
A Christian revival would only help inasmuch as more
Christians are involved in sport and whether or not God himself put that magic
back into the sport we loved. Whether God made that nostalgic memory happen
again. Whether he let all that happen for a reason. There may not be a lot of
research about the effect of Christian revivals on sport, but what there is, is
a lot of research on the effect of Christian revivals on people and
atmospheres. Because it is the atmosphere that is missing isn’t it? That’s part
of the magic. Open the floodgates of heaven and you have better sport – because
sport involves people and God is interested in people, skills and talent.
Look at organisations like Christians in Sport. There are
many chaplains involved in sport. They are better qualified to talk about it
all than a non-practicing Stoke City supporter. And there is a lot of prayer
involved from all kinds of people.
I’ve never really understood why people can’t pray for their
favourite sports heroes to win. Why not? It has never been explained to me.
People pray their desires all the time. Who are any of us to say that you can’t
pray that? Okay, maybe God is rooting for an apology rather than for us to pray
that England win the world cup again. But I don’t know. God knows.
Because my conviction is that a Christian revival would make
things better for most people in this country, I desperately want to say that it
would influence sport too. That it would bring back the magic. But conscience
stops me from saying that. However, there are strong links between Christian
revival and sport. There would probably be a positive influence, more
Christians in sport for example, a change in atmosphere and a reduction in the
peripheral violence and drug use. Maybe the atmosphere would change. That
nostalgia, that sense of magic and the joy at seeing sporting heroes win is
known to God. All I’m saying is that if anyone can bring back the magic into
sport, then God can. And that a Christian revival would make that more likely
not less.
So choose sides. Or change teams.
Think happy thoughts.
Saturday, 28 April 2018
Ziggy
Just an interim blog post as I haven't written here for too long. I debated whether I should post about the obvious revival of drug and knife use, the hopeless political nightmare in which we now live or some other thing.
But our three year old cat Ziggy has just been diagnosed with a rare, fatal cat disease (called FIP) and to be honest I don't want to write at the moment.
Of course - everywhere I look there are just healthy cats now.
Here he is - please spare a prayer for him if you are the praying kind.
Friday, 16 February 2018
Parables
My latest book has just been published and is available on Amazon from this link.
'Parables' is a collection of 14 eerie and unusual short stories written over a number of years. The genre of these stories ranges from modern ghost story and magic realism through to updated parable. These stories are full of pathos, memorable characters and a deeper meaning. They will linger with the reader long after they have been read. Above all, each story is designed to be a portal into a new way of looking at life.
The paperback is £5.99 and the ebook version is £2.99.
Sunday, 4 February 2018
New book trailer
This is the trailer for my new book, a short story collection called Parables. It will be available from February 10th.
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