My open blog for people who want to read my books,articles, and any other things that I might produce, keep track of storytelling engagements, listen to my less demented rantings, and generally play nice (or naughty, I'm easy... as is widely known).
A couple of recordings to make potential students aware of the degrees which I lead at the University of Suffolk. If you know of any possible Religious Studies and/or Ethics students, do share the link - or get them to contact me via email@example.com
Should have posted here earlier, but work has been manic.... On Saturday 17th June, 7.30pm at the Ipswich Oddfellows hall on the High Street I will be telling myths and legends involving wolves as a means of fundraising for the UK Wolf Trust (which looks after a number of wolves in their sanctuary and does a lot of educational and environmental work as well).
Turn up, bring alcohol if you want it (I will provide tea/coffee) and make a donation to the charity tin. Stories are drawn from various cultures and sources - Roman, Irish, Greek, and assorted others.
I wrote this poem some years ago, and it appeared in the Moon Books anthology (published in 2014). It was inspired by the Greek myths of the sea deities Poseidon, Nerites (who was transformed into a sea snail), and Proteus the seal herder - a lovely idea, of a god looking after seals and steering them through the oceans.
I'm recording this because 2017 is the anniversary of the decriminalisation of gay sex in the UK and so this year is being marked with various events, films etc. Also recording this because I'm sick to death of the General Election, but also more than a bit perturbed by the sudden elevation of the very hard line anti-LGBT Irish political group, the DUP, to the position of "king makers". So, this poem is my attempt to focus on a more positive view of such issues.
Watching the unfurling horrors in Manchester and London, I am as bewildered as anyone else by the level of hatred and malevolence on display. I was born in London and still have family and friends there, so yesterday's incident is particularly close to the bone.
London is a city rich in mythology and legend (I'm sure Manchester is too, but I know very little about its stories) and the incident brought to mind both a favourite song - I am an admirer of the Golden Age of music from the 20s, 30s and 40s, including the Noel Coward number below, which I heard delivered to great effect by Kitt Hesketh-Harvey and Dillie Keane some years back. The song in turn brought to mind a semi-prophetic folk story from London's wide raging traditions. My spin on the story is included below - I hope it does not feel "too soon" to tell it.
A revolting little story, of which there are several variations in different regions of Italy. Not recommended as an aperitif, nor for those of an anti-capitalist disposition (though you could chose to see it as an indictment of the degree to which the rich will not be parted from what is theirs, no matter what).