The Non-Stop Dancer Trailer

To celebrate the forthcoming election I will publish ‘The Non-Stop Dancer’ on June 8th.  Check back here on the day to find out how to get your copy.

 

The Politics of Hate

As my country stumbles towards a new general election which offers the opportunity to choose between a turd sandwich, a turd roll, a turd wrap or a turd baguette I find myself somewhat befuddled by the archaic manner in which many people see the world.  The days of the political spectrum are long gone, thus it is amazing to witness the death of the idealists.

The people of the United Kingdom are being asked to choose between the party that wishes to murder foxes with dogs, a party that hates jews, a party that hates gay people, a party that hates foreigners and a party that nobody knows anything about other than the fact that they want to save the planet.  It largely is an election fought between contemptible arseholes obsessed with hatred and a bunch of hippy vegans.  For the first time in my life, it is not the vegans that concern me.

The politics of division are in no way a new idea.  It is an idea as old as building straight roads, watching men fight to the death and orgies.  And yet it is a pattern that is visible and repeating itself across the globe as political parties have realised that it is easier to unite people in hatred than to plan a manifesto of substance and that in itself will prove to be the beginning of the problems of tomorrow.

After last year’s Brexit referendum I wrote a short allegorical story.  By the time I had finished it no longer felt quite relevant.  Yet, here we are again.  Eleven months later the politics of fear and scaremongering have returned.  And suddenly the same reasons which compelled me to write the story are relevant again, meaning that I only have one option:

To celebrate the forthcoming election I will publish ‘The Non-Stop Dancer’ on June 8th.  Check back here on the day to find out how to get your copy.

 

 

 

 

2016 – What a Year it’s been

As 2016 draws to a close thousands of talented celebrities from around the world will be crossing their fingers in desperate hope that they can hang on for a tiny bit longer.  It is irrefutable. 2016 has been a bastard to the famous.  Thankfully I am only a Y list celebrity and thus so far have been spared.

I am the one that looks considerably less cool….

I refuse to see the entire year as something all bad.  On a personal level it was a year of firsts.  I finally visited New York which was just awesome.  I threw myself out of an aeroplane without any sensible reason.  I appeared on stage for the first time, rather than my customary position in the shadows, and bizarrely people laughed.  Not at me either.  But with me.  I think.  Somehow during all of this I learned something important about myself.  The greatest of pleasures stem from escaping my own comfort zone.

This year I largely took a well earned break from writing.  I tried to write a few half-arsed ideas which all proved to be little more than brainfarts.  Eventually reality stepped in and put a boot in my bottom.  And that’s how the novelette PiSlamistan was born.  It lead me to getting a wide variety of threats and abuse, including accusations of Judaism, communism and photographs of dead babies.  It also led to the first Polish translation of my work.  So I would like to say a hearty thank you to each and every person that took the time to send me hatred.  Without you, none of this would be possible.

2016 saw the release of ‘We Are Sorry’, one of the longest running music projects I have worked on.  There were music videos to ‘God Doesn’t Love You’ and ‘Walec’.  It was both amazing and at the same time a massive relief to finally see it come to fruition as the origins of the project go back a number of years. I believe we made a huge mistake by not calling our first album ‘Greatest Hits’ as it would have saved us from ever having to record another album.

All that is left for me to say to my readers, groupies, and troll army is Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

P.S. In the spirit of the festive season the good people at Amazon have decided to give Mourning Morning away for free on the Amazon Kindle Store on Christmas Day and Boxing Day.

PiSlamistan Has Been Polished

Having spend nearly a decade of my life in Poland it has always been somewhat of an ambition of mine to see something I have written be translated into Polish.  The fact that it is a novella I wrote in response to something that has been going on in Poland makes this so much sweeter.

This is a very special moment to me.  I want to say a massive thank you to my translator who shall remain nameless.  Her support means the world to me and I am ecstatic that she was about to find the time for this project.

I want to say a thank you to the myriad of wonderful Poles that I have encountered in my life.  I have met many people who were reluctant to read my brain drippings as they lacked confidence in English.  Now you have no excuse and nowhere no hide.

I also must say a thank you to my army of volunteer proof readers.  Thank you for giving up your time for a great nation.  PiSlamistan thanks you, you truly aren’t the #najgorszysort.

The last point I want to raise is the very reason I wrote this story.  I want to thank the women of #Poland that made their voices heard when their own government tried to dictate what they could do with their own bodies.  You are amazing, and inspiring, and if nothing else I am awestruck.  After spending all those years in Poland if I have learned anything, it is that no man, no matter how powerful he thinks he is, can ever win an argument with a Polish woman.  This story is dedicated to every one of you Polske Panie.

You can download the polish translation of #PiSlamistan right here

#Czarny Protest          #BlackProtest

A Commemorative Poem For Saint Donald’s Day

The sadness of footsteps that beat out a tune,

The knowledge that death comes to all that’s in bloom,

The relief of raindrops that bring hope for change,

The kinship of laughter that says we’re all strange.

We’re are all fucked every one of us,

We’re all gonna die,

We are all dead, dead as dodos,

And we don’t know why,

We are all fucked; lifeless corpses,

We are alive; alive and useless,

And we don’t know why.

The feeling that burns you when you lay down to sleep,

The tissue that holds you when you sit down and weep,

Your office and laptop that gives you your wage,

Your daydreams are violent they withhold your rage.

Text from ‘We Are All Fucked’ by Yu

published by Agora 2016

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