The Nth Columnist

 Well, I hope so. Yes, I know what you're thinking - 'oh look at the date, it'll be one of those New Year Resolution thingies and it's bound to go tits up within days' etc etc, and to be honest, I'm almost inclined to agree with you. However, it's not as if I'm going to be inundated with work any time soon, considering the latest Lockdown, so, I may as well be productive. And there's that voice again: 'if it's lockdown-related, how come you didn't do any in the FIRST lockdown?' Because. That's why. Just because. Now, I'm not sure how far I will take this, but this is, in fact, a multi-pronged approach in action. I'll be keeping this blog for generic stuff - observations, politics, cycling, possibly recipes and daftness abundant - and  maintaining a couple of others for my professional side, that is, all the stuff where I have to metaphorically wear a suit and tie and keep smiling politely, if not slightly insanely.  Anyway...

Quick note: Welcome back to this blog - it's been a while. As part of my New Year's Promises to myself, I'm spending February writing at least a thousand words a day, in order to kick my butt back into writing. Each piece can be on any topic and in any style, and I may or may not choose to share them, depending on quality and/or capacity to embarrass myself. Anyway, here goes: So why did I become a teacher of English as a Foreign Language? Good question. Well, no, it isn’t really - I think the how I became a teacher is perhaps of more interest. And, in fact, I’ve never really talked much about it, because it’s a situation that probably evolved in some ways. I mean, I thought I knew why I wanted to teach English at first, but many years of being one have knocked that nonsense out of me. Well, at least I hope it has. The reason of why I teach still eluded me, however, for many years. By this, I mean the underlying drive that made me keep going up in front of a class, year...

Quite often, we end up writing about what needs to be said, not what we intend to say. This is because we become so inured to not listening to our real thoughts, that when we put it in charge of our hands and fingers in the strangely magical process of writing, out it all comes. I reread the last article and realised that it didn't actually say that much about Betrayal per se, so I thought I should pay it a revisit. It's now nearly two weeks since we packed up and moved on, and it's all going hazy surprisingly quickly.  So, here are a few thoughts about the play, the story. and the process. Now, being the diligent, attentive student I was back at Bangor University in the 1980s, of course Pinter was on our booklists, and of course I had the collected sets of his plays. Somewhere along the line, however, I omitted to read Betrayal. To be honest, my reading lists often remained in a state of theoretical possibility, due to my intensive studies of the underside of bar tabl...

'It's all, all over.' Another bucket of Corvo Bianco, please. I've just come to the end of a run of Harold Pinter's Betrayal at the Progress Theatre in Reading . I performed as Robert, and the play itself received overwhelmingly positive reviews. Needless to say, I was absolutely bloody fantastic - as were my costars, Emma Sterry and Pete Cook, and Mathieu Menard in his cameo as a waiter. In fact, the whole ensemble - director Adrian, SM Tara, Steph, Helen in Wardrobe, and our light and sound guys, Rich and Jon - were brilliant. Pete Cook as Jerry Emma Sterry as Emma. Well, that's my award acceptance speech more or less there. Now, intermittent readers of this intermittent blog, I can hear your eyebrows creaking upward ever so slightly, as I don't think I mention theatre and acting much here (or previously over on Joy Of Raki ). The truth is, I've been away - not just from this blog, but also from performance. Well, 28 years, to be...

'Is it better to be dumb or clever?' There was laughter. Professor Noam Chomsky beamed back at us. As he climbed back to his feet and accepted the Visiting Professor Award from Reading University with obvious pleasure and humility, we applauded a lecture that was, as anyone who's seen or read Chomsky, illuminating, interesting and thought-provoking. I had the extraordinary privilege of seeing this remarkable man last night. Putting aside the content of his lecture for a moment, it's truly remarkable that a man of 88 can stand at a lectern for a hour and deliver a talk with the minimum of notes. I can only hope that I'd be able to do the same when I reach that age. The talk was titled 'Racing for the Precipice', and was concerned with the state of the world. I won't go into too many details, as it was filmed  but in essence it covered the litany of missed opportunities that those in power have had to avoid armed conflict, aggression and the potential...

No, it isn't. He's a berserk orange bollock having a temper tantrum. I win! Bigly! Fake Everything! Sad! So here's something completely different. Turn off your radio, turn off your TV, turn off Twitter, turn off Facebook, close your laptop. Breathe in, nice and deep. Hold it a while. Now exhale, letting all your anger, worries and fears go with your breath. Repeat. Now stand up, let your arms hang loose and relaxed, then bend down from the waist. Let your arms stay nice and floppy. Now slowly, gradually, one vertebra at a time, start rising up again. Feel your back stretch and fold and slide into place. When you're standing up straight, raise your chin and look upwards. Imagine you're stretching for the sky and raise your arms, reaching out to their fullest extent. Imagine yourself as a tree in new summer light, your feet reaching deep into the earth, your fingers brushing the air. Breathe again, and expand into the moment: Make yourself as ta...

So, farewell, Barack Obama: As many have already said, we're all going to miss your cool, unruffled presidency. Your farewell speech was gracious, calm and generous. It struck the tone that a President should: inclusive, hopeful, helpful and slightly detached. OK folks, I hope you've got your safety belts on now, as it looks as if we're in for one hell of a ride.... I watched Mr Trump's Press conference today. If I'm being generous, it is best described as being markedly different in tone from Mr Obama's valediction. If I'm being honest, it was the most jaw-dropping, godawful, car crash of a press briefing I have ever seen. You don't want to hear what my opinion would be if I were to be negative. I really don't know where to begin with it. You may have noticed that this post is beginning to read like a theatre review, and that is because it is, in a way. This was Trumpian Theatricality at its darkest and most brutal. It started with an ...