Anthem for Doomed Truth

The problem with freedom is that other people simply refuse to use it in ways you approve. Take Jeremy Corbyn: elected leader of Britain's Labour Party one day, refusing to sing the national anthem the next. War veterans are right to feel upset. They didn't fight for freedom just so people would have the freedom to choose their gods, politics, and songs to sing. And it’s not as though Jeremy has a problem squeezing a lung or two in public. Earlier in the week, he gave a rousing performance of the Red Flag in a London pub. It staggers belief! The new Labour leader singing the semi-official anthem of The Labour Party. Just what was he thinking?

You see, amid all the media outrage is a rarely spoken truth about freedom: we are free to do whatever it is that the majority tell us to do. Britain is a liberal and wonderfully open-minded nation, so long as you're thinking and saying what the liberal and wonderfully open-minded people think and say. Heaven forbid that you dare offer an alternative point of view on war, terrorism, migration, civil liberties, Europe, policing, crime, gender, housing, cycling, unions, beards, smoking, drugs, druids, drones, Scotland, trains, tattoos, teaching, One Direction, ethnic studies, football, Crufts, television, HS2, or ethic spoon medicine. Dare to defend a rapist and the mob will tear you to pieces, just like they did with TV presenter and journalist, Judy Finnigan, when she recently tried to make a nuanced point about a footballer's rape case. Don't mention hunting lest you provoke the opprobrium of the Countryside lobby who attacked BBC naturalist Chris Packham when he dared to express an opinion on a subject he's considered an expert. A man can't even say that Elton John's latest album rots his ears without that being taken as an attack on the entire LGBT community.

Of course, both the political left and right have their own protected airspace. On the left, it's union rights, minimum wage, and equality. On the right it's the monarchy, law and order, and immigration. There are broader taboos which exist in the public sphere and you can usually tell when you've strayed because you'll receive the 'you can't say that' warning from work colleagues. It's the nature of public opinion that the current safe zone moves like starlings on the wing: a large homogenous mass, keeping the stragglers in order should they move counter to the prevailing direction.

The problem with this is that it rarely allows true freedom of speech and popularity doesn't itself prove an objective truth. Simply because something is acceptable to the masses, it doesn't mean that an attitude is right. In the 1970s, racism, sexism and homophobia were lauded as good old honest British traits. Those who didn't play by the common rules were condemned as either outdated or misguided when decades later they would be seen as visionary or brave.

In truth, most of us know this already. There's nothing here that isn't common sense. It really comes down to how we each act based on our convictions. Most of us are pretty cowardly when it comes to our deeply held convictions. We sometimes profess to likes and dislikes simply in order to fit into the crowd. It's why the ballot box is protected and votes are (supposedly) anonymous. It takes a brave person to stand apart when they know it will draw people's ire.

Personally, I'm not much of a republican but neither am I much of a monarchist. I dislike the media sandstorms that surround the Royal Family but I appreciate the value of having a non-political head of state. I am, however, a confirmed atheist and singing 'God save the Queen' always sticks in my throat. Yet I'd have probably mumbled along to save myself the trouble of explaining myself. Laziness would have led me to mumble something. And perhaps that's what we're missing here. Corbyn could have taken the easy route. He could have moved his lips and no questions would have been asked. He didn't and that says something creditable about his character. It's just a shame that it plays into a convenient narrative for the right wing press.

Because, really, veterans are wrong to feel offended. They should be proud that their sacrifices allowed us to have a nation where individuals still have a right to express their opinion. Sacrifice in the name of your country is one of the noblest acts but let's not confuse it with the cheap tricks of politicians and the press who use talk of sacrifice, honour, memory and patriotism for their own shameful ends.

The Spine's Beckham Podcast: What exactly art thou Romeo?

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The Spine Podcast - Episode 11: Clive James and the Art of Bad TV

The Spine Podcast: Why Tristram Hunt should be the next Labour Leader

Well, this for me is a big decision. I've made a non-election podcast. I'll be making more and not all of them will be about politics. However, I'm still in a political frame of mind and today I wanted to argue why I think Tristram Hunt should be the next Labour leader. I know real Labour folk will disagree but real Labour folk are possibly the reason why they keep failing. Idealism gets in the way of common sense. Anyway, give it a listen and if you enjoy it, have any suggestions, or just want to give me encouragement to do more, please leave a comment or email me at thespineblog@gmail.com. I'm still not sure what I'm doing but I'm having fun doing it. [Apologies for the vulgar 'coke' joke at the beginning. Once written, I couldn't resist leaving it in.]

The Spine Election Podcast - Episode 9

Wrapping things up with (definitely) my last election podcast.

The Spine Election Podcast - Episode 7

And the Youtube version...

The Spine Election Podcast - Episode 6

After a long week and a few delays due to my being off on various jaunts, I've finally edited together the latest podcast. I'd like to thank  Bella Sassin who lent a real touch of professionalism to this production. Her acting makes me sound like the slow guy who hangs around the village well in eighteenth century novels set in Ireland.

The Spine Election Podcast - Episode 5

Bad Cartoons and New Blog

My rule is that I draw whatever my best cartoon idea is by 11pm.

I rarely have time to draw during the day. If I did, I think my cartoons would be infinitely better. It means that I have to confine my drawing to late night. I sit down about 11pm and watch the day's political programs, which usually means anything I can find hosted by the simply remarkable Andrew Neil. Election time is great for a political junkie such as myself. It means I can put aside about three hours of listening/watching the debate whilst drawing the next day's cartoon. It's always a worry that I won't last the cartoon. I need to have it nearly finished before I begin to feel sleepy because I never want to be left finishing a cartoon the following day.

Last night, I didn't have any great ideas for a cartoon. Some days are like that. I'd struggled all day to find a story that really clicked in my mind. I struggled to make a connection between two stories. I knew I wanted to draw the Clintons but it was only at midnight that I'd settled onto an idea I had about the Apple Watch, which, I think, was launched yesterday. I thought of Hillary using the watch to cover Bill's open mouth, given that Bill's open mouth will not be one of her best assets in the forthcoming election. It probably doesn't work but that's the nature of the game. You learn by your mistakes more than you learn by your successes.

I think my failure to come up with a better gag was down to my having eaten a cream cake earlier in the day. I rarely eat cream cakes and I think the 'Cream Crisp' had disagreed with me. I had lost all energy, which is always my key indicator for when I've eaten something bad. Then, when I slept, I had the craziest dream. It was the kind of dream that you don't shake off by simply waking up, walking around the room, or banging your head against the wall. When I went back to bed, I had exactly the same dream. It carried on all night. Nigel Farage was inside the Minecraft universe. 4.30 this morning it was really freaking me out.

Today I want to crack on and put the Clinton cartoon behind me. I want to follow Stu's advice and split this blog apart. I've been wanting to do something like this for a while but never before had I such a clear sense of what I want to achieve. Part of it, I guess, is sheer egoism. I realised the other day that I should put my name more prominently in the title. I should try to be more professional about what I do and try to keep my doubts and grumbles away from the things I produce. I should try to promote my work and try not to promote my gripes with everyday things. I suppose I'd previously thought of myself as merely being an 'honest blogger' and that anybody who might enjoy my more 'polished' work, might also appreciate when I'm just being myself. But I guess life isn't like that. You have to present yourself as something better than you really are.

So, hopefully, by Monday, my new blog will be up. Anything I produce which I think is quality, will go over there on my new 'Cultivated Weirdness' blog. The Spine will continue to host the more 'prickly' side of my character and anything specialised like my occasional obsessions with programming. I'll see how things go for a month or so. Perhaps there won't be much difference. I'm hoping that being more myself will help me to invest more time into writing funny things. Perhaps I'll do more podcasts. I guess I'll see how I feel once I realise that I'm getting two hits a day...

The Spine Election Podcast Episode 3

Via Youtube with pictures:



Or via Soundcloud without pictures.

The Spine Podcast - Episode 2

The Spine Election Podcast Episode 1

This took longer than it should and I'm not convinced that I shouldn't have ditched the idea. My voice is utterly buggered and some parts of this aren't the best but are simply the best not punctuated by coughing fits. I've been wanting to do a podcast for a while, after the great Elberry suggested I give it a try. Typically, the time I thought I would do it is first time I've ever caught a viral throat infection. So, please be kind. I might do more. This might go down as one of my noble failures. If I were feeling better, I'd be bright, funnier, and lest liable to rushing, which I do throughout this. It's a bloody miracle I could record anything. I'm currently coughing on every other breath.