THE world seems crowded, hectic and full of violence and hatred just now.
Everything that once defined our confident, comfortable identity as British people is being challenged – our Christianity, our support for our Armed Services, our sense of humour, sense of fair play etc.
According to the latest poll findings there is no longer even majority support for the continuance of the United Kingdom as a political entity, which is a great shame. Instead people want Scotland, England and Wales to go their own ways.
And the news is dominated by stories about Islam, rather than our majority faith and great historic culture, which the liberal commentariat delight in sneering at and belittling.
The dynamics and power structures of the world are changing faster than we think and plentiful ‘enemies within’ our own national culture are hastening this process.
Now, you can deal with all this worrying turmoil in a variety of ways – drink is always an option.
Quite often when people get home from yet another day of workplace tedium, laced with back-stabbing politics and bitchiness, not to mention anxiety about the dire state of our planet, they go straight to their local pubs.
I know I like to pop into Hell’s Waiting Room for an aperitif or three.
There are always people in there who feel even more alienated than myself, which is strangely cheering to the cankers of my heart.
Another option is to simply switch off from the worries of the world. Go home and watch the soaps (Coronation Street and The Bill remain very good, though neither is free of politically correct manipulation these days).
Or you can just turn your back on politics, international affairs and the looming environmental catastrophe. You can choose to immerse yourself in local affairs and civic life instead.
That’s quite a temptation if you live in a place with bags of character, such as Wallasey or Liverpool, though not so attractive if you live somewhere bland, like Chester, where many people appear to have a strawberry lodged up their bottoms.
But it is foolish and futile to seek local escapism in such an interrelated and globalised world.
And besides, have you ever talked to the type of people who think they are the Mr Big or Madam Know-it-all of the local scene? They are so boring you will soon feel deprived of oxygen.
There is only one thing we can be sure of in our lives - and that is that humanity is afflicted by a terrible unease and fear for the future.
I am not immune to such feelings.
But there are two things that help get me through the vale of tears we call life. These are: (a) my subversive, debunking sense of humour, which is increasingly shared by others, and; (b) as I mentioned previously, my writing of poetry and giving public readings of it in pubs.
I’ll be at it again this very evening (Tuesday 28 Nov)… at Stanley’s Cask in Rake Lane, Wallasey. Come along. There is plenty of good live music on offer if you don’t like the poetry.
I don’t know if my versifying actually cheers up my audience, but folk sometimes laugh out loud at various points in my readings … and snigger guiltily or nervously at other bits.
Probably the best poetry sessions hereabouts are held at the open floor nights of the Dead Good Poets Society, held in the Third Room of the Everyman in Liverpool.
Myself, and several other poets and vagabonds from New Brighton, will be reading there on Wednesday, 6 December, starting at 8.30pm.
If any readers of this blog also write poetry (and a surprisingly large number of people do) I urge you to come along and put your name on the list to give a public airing of your work.
Don’t be shy. The atmosphere at Dead Good Poets is very supportive.
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