Well, plays have all been performed, to good reviews I might add, and assignments are up to date, so now that I am all rested and recovered, let’s catch up with what’s been happening in the world –

Riots in Belfast?  Didn’t we do that already?

They’re at it again.

So, what’s it about this time?  Flags, eh!!

You know, when I see people out protesting like that on the street over some perceived attack on their culture, faith or whatever, I often think, ‘You really don’t have enough to bother you’, and it really must have been a slow week for news when this lot made the national headlines.

Now, in the great scheme of things, how ridiculous must this seem to any outsider, the Union flag is taken down and there are protests and riots, for what, a piece of coloured material?

Now, the thing about all this is, you can say it’s about flags, or culture, or identity, or religion, or nationality, or loyalty, and you might think you’re right, but when you strip all that down to the bare bones it comes down to this, and this is what no one else in Northern Ireland will ever just come out and say publicly - identifying with the Union Jack is about clinging to an idea left over from the British Empire (of which NI is it’s last outpost) and that is, to identify yourself as British is to claim that you are superior and not just to the Irish, but to everyone that isn’t white, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant, that’s it in a nutshell. 

It’s about nothing more than that, ‘I’m British’ means saying I’m better than you without actually saying, ‘I am superior to you’.  It’s the exact same attitude that prevailed in the days of Empire when Britain went stomping around the globe terrorising the natives and bringing us heathen types civilisation, and which still prevails today among right-wingers, from the Tory party to the National Front.

Ulster was planted hundreds of years ago by the British, actually it happened about a hundred years before Britain even existed, and Ireland has never been part of Britain, it’s always been the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, or as it is now, Northern Ireland.  

So, there are no British here in NI, only a few confused Irish or Northern Irish, for we surely are a breed apart from the rest of the country.  I mean, how many years do you have to live in a country before you consider yourself a citizen of it?  Hundreds of years later, and they still can’t lower themselves to stand up and say they’re Irish, or even Northern Irish.  They treat it as an insult to be considered Irish, and as someone who is Irish by nationality, I find that insulting.  What is so wrong with being Irish?  What does nationality mean at the end of day, I was born in Ireland so I am deemed to be Irish, they were born in Ireland too, but they’re British.  What’s going to happen when/if the Scottish vote for Independence, Britain isn’t going to exist anymore, what will they be then?

When I think about my identity, I think first and foremost, I am a human being, then I am female, and identifying with a country, a flag, or one culture is far down the list of what I am. There are very few singularly, one culture people left in this world, not when you sit down and consider how much of our lives have been influenced by other countries and their habits, especially in these days of globalization.  In reality, each of us is a single multi-cultural unit.

As long as people don’t think for themselves, they will cling to other’s ideas of what their identity is.  It’s easier to adopt the cultural stereotypes we’ve been spoon fed by our respective communities, than to look at the reality of these things and challenge notions that are as archaic, and out-of-date, as the dinosaurs.   

Now, if you really want to go out and protest about something that may be wrong in Belfast then here’s an idea.  In October of this year in East Belfast , in the space of 10 days, 7 people committed suicide.  Also, in West Belfast this week, apparently 5 people committed suicide.  (I haven’t been able to confirm this yet, I heard it at work in relation to the tragedy of another local suicide)  The rate of suicide in the North is off the scale compared to the rest of Europe .  (see previous post: In defence of young men)  With the ongoing stranglehold on the working-class Protestant areas by the paramilitaries, the decades of economic neglect by government and the pressure of culture and tradition, there are communities here in real crisis, and no-one seems to give a damn.  

And it certainly doesn’t help when a Chancellor gets up in Parliament and starts sneeringly classifying the working class of this country into strivers and skivers, especially when he got to be where he is, because he had the double good fortune of being born into a wealthy family and the privileged classes, where their money and social connections bought him all the advantages that life has to offer.

There is a lot of pressure in people at the moment, the rising cost of living and falling value of wages, the added pressure of conforming to the social and financial pressures of the season of 'Goodwill', not to mention the fear of losing your job, or of trying to find a job if you don't have one in the midst of a recession.  These all make for extremely stressful times and it's heart-sickening to watch this government gleefully slash at the poorest and weakest in this society and arrogantly scapegoat them for the present economic ills which they were not responsible for, while giving all the breaks to the rich and fellow members of their class.  All I can say is, roll on the revolution!!!

As always, comments are welcome:

A little quiz question for today, what do the Pope, the Queen, David Cameron and Bono have in common?  

Well, if you said the Pope is head of the Catholic Church, the Queen is the head of State for Britain and the Church of England, David Cameron is the head of the present Government, and Bono has a big head, then head would be the connection and you might be right and, actually, that is a right answer too, when you think about it. 

But that’s not the answer we’re looking for today, so, sorry if you said that but good thinking just the same. 

The answer we’re looking for is, and this might surprise some people, they all say or think they are Christians but in reality none of them are, which might surprise some people since two of them are heads of Christian Churches and at least one of them thinks they are God. 

So, how is that the right answer, I hear you say? Well, I was at mass a couple of weeks ago and the priest was talking about the reading that day, which was the one about how it would be ‘easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it would be for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God ’ (or heaven, anyway, same thing).  And he went on about wealth and poverty and I was sitting there thinking, ‘Well what about the Vatican?’  I almost got up and said it, and if it had been another priest I might have, but this priest is old and retired and then I thought, ‘Well he’s not Rome so why harass him about it’. And then yesterday we were back on the money question with the story of the Widow's Mite. Now, I go to mass, I consider myself Catholic, definitely not a Roman Catholic but Catholic in the original sense of the word, which comes from the Greek and means ‘universal’, and that is how I consider myself. I am a member of the ‘universal church of humanity’. 

I was in Rome a couple of years ago and while there was a lot to see, from an historical perspective, I didn’t particularly like the place and I certainly didn’t feel too inspired by the ‘Christianity’ of the Vatican, and wouldn’t be in a hurry to go back any time soon. When I was there, I was hoping for some profound spiritual experience and the nearest I got to encountering anything like that was looking at Michelangelo's Pieta, which is in St Peters and is a stunningly beautiful piece of sculpture. If you ever go to Rome, I couldn’t recommend going to see this highly enough. 

The other big attraction was the Sistine Chapel and, honestly, I felt a bit let down by it. Firstly, it’s not really a chapel, as you would imagine, it’s just another room in the Vatican and by the time you get to it, you have passed through so many rooms painted from floor to ceiling with angels and the like, that your eye is a bit tired by the overload.  

I had the same thing in the Renaissance section of the Louvre, I remember coming out and thinking, ‘If I see one more picture of the dead Christ…!’ And, for the record, the painting of God creating Adam, which I had always imagined was this huge painting across a domed ceiling, is in fact a small panel in the centre of the ceiling about 5ft by 3ft. (it probably is bigger than that, but from my perspective, that is how it appeared). The place was also packed, it was a hot day and, between the crowd, the stifling air and the smell of body odour, it wasn't a pleasant experience. 

Anyway, what got me about it, was the wealth of art in the Vatican museum and, also, the fact that the Pope lives like an earthly king. He lives in a palace, is surrounded by lackeys and riches, he is dressed in expensive robes, waited on hand and foot and separated from the people. He is supposed to be Jesus’ representative on earth, how is that anything like Jesus? And another thing, he is supposed to be infallible, says who? I would like to know where that idea came from? He can’t be infallible, he is a human being, it isn’t possible, all humans are flawed and imperfect, it’s the most interesting thing about us. Just think how boring it would be, if we were all perfect and flawless?  

When you look at it, everything about the Pope goes against everything Jesus preached about and the same goes for the Queen. It is a complete hypocrisy to have a Queen as head of any Christian church and the same applies to David Cameron and Bono, you cannot be that rich and be a Christian, it just isn’t possible, you may perform Christian acts now and again, but as long as you are sitting with all those millions (and avoiding paying tax) you are not and never can be a Christian in the truest and only sense of the word. 

And since we’re on the subject of Churches and religion, any religion that differentiates between men and women is wrong, especially if the Bible is a big part of the religion, because one of the first statements in the Book of Genesis says, that God made them, male and female, both equal. That’s it, equal, no more, no less, equal.  Not the Animal Farm kind of equal, where ‘everyone is equal, only some are more equal than others’, no, not that one. There was no qualification to it, all equal, no argument. 

And if you really believed in the God of the Bible, you couldn’t regard any human being as not being your equal, (or as discussed in previous blogs, of equal value), because if you believe God made everything, then to say that a woman is something less than a man, is to insult God. If God made them equal then who is any human being to say that Her/His/It’s creation, woman, is something less, when they are both human. The value for what He/She/It has created, then extends to everything because if you truly believed that, then you have to consider that everything that God has created is of value to God, otherwise it would not exist.  

Which makes it very arrogant and insulting to go traipsing around claiming dominion over other lands and other human beings and treating them badly, or as your own personal property. Because if everything is God’s creation then, maybe it’s time we started to really think about that and consider how we are living and how we treat other people and the planet. Maybe it’s time we cleaned up our act and started taking care of what we have been given because whether there is or isn’t a God, and whether you believe or don’t believe in a God, we only have a short time here so why don’t we do our best to live well and respectfully, and try and make life better for everyone.  

I mean, does the Queen, David and Bono, and all those other millionaires and billionaires, really need all that money. They can’t spend it in a lifetime and it won’t buy them another life. They can’t take it with them so what do they need it for, to feed their egos and make them feel like they are successful, that they are better human beings than the rest of us?  

Sorry, but the bad news about that is, if you can sit with millions or billions in a bank while on this planet another human being is dying for the want of something as basic as food, then you have failed in the most important area of life, you have failed as a human being and you have certainly failed as a Christian. 

What are we here for, if not to live, life is supposed to be lived is it not?  Why does it always feel that life is something to be endured or survived, why can we not just live and live well? We speculate and ponder on the meaning of life and maybe it is something as simple as that, to live it and live it well. 

Comments as usual, are always welcome.

Following on from last weeks post, I talked about our equal value as human beings and recognise the belief systems and social constructions that we have created which divide us into classes and hierarchies, placing the value of some humans higher than others.

Most of us agree with the idea of equality but find it difficult to see how it would work in practice. The main reason this difficulty arises is because when we try to articulate it, or when we look around us, we see that there are many ways in which we are not equal.

Each of us is an individual with individual talents and abilities and to try and come up with a statement that encompasses the idea of equality, while recognising the diversity of mankind, is a challenge in itself. I used to always say I believed in equality but having children opened my eyes to how individual each child can be, even when they come from the same parents and, also, how much the individual personality of each human being is present in the infant child.  

This is what I came up with as a statement in support of equality, I have concluded that while it is about the value of each human being, we also need to recognise and appreciate the individual.

Equality (of Value) - To allow and encourage the growth and development of all people to their full potential as human beings, without impediment or prejudice.

It may come as a surprise to you all to know that me and Jesus have a lot in common, I kid you not. You probably already know that on the day Jesus was born, there was a new star in the sky to announce his arrival.  Well, it also happens that on the day I was born, there was also a new star in the sky. It was called Telstar, and was the first telecommunications satellite, launched to improve telecommunications between the US and Europe. So if you want to Google that, you’ll know exactly when I was born, and what age I am, no prizes for finding it though, sorry, and I’m too much of a lady to reveal my age publicly.

‘Ha!’

Sorry, did you say something?

‘Nut'in, just clearin’ me throat’

Ok then, moving swiftly along…….as you probably already noticed I am ‘Devine’ by name, I like to think I’m ‘divine’ by nature too, at least that’s what I tell people, and if I tell them often enough they might start to believe it.

‘Ha!’

‘Do you have something to say?’

‘Jist a bit ova tikly throat’

Well, perhaps you should go and get a drink of water or something……preferably, somewhere that isn’t here?

Anyway…..you may also have noticed my initials are AD, which stands for, yes you guessed it, Anno Domini, which of course means, ‘In the year of our Lord’.

I also read a while back, that historians had pin-pointed Jesus’ birth to the month of July, which is also the month I was born in.

‘Aye well ad hiv tae agree that July’s a gud month’

I wasn’t born in a manger but I did once know a dog with mange, if that counts?  A bit of a stretch I know but you can only take them where you find them.

My early years were spent in Mount Sion, a street in a town in Northern Ireland and, as an Irish Catholic, I too grew up in a country under foreign occupation, just like Jesus under the Romans. So instead of ‘Romani Ite Domum’, we had ‘Limeys Go Home’ which later became 'Brits Out'.

 ‘Yer showin’ yer age now love’

 ‘REALLY, I just can’t be doing with all this interruption, are the pubs not open tonight?’

 ‘They probly are but am skint’

 Well, that’s just TOO bad then isn’t it?’

I’m SO sorry about this, he’s a disgruntled Ulster Scots speaker, he’s been hanging around for the last few weeks, I don’t know what he’s looking for, I’m hoping he’ll get fed up soon and go back from wherever he came …anyway, shall we carry on?

OKAY…On the miracle front, I haven’t quite managed to feed five thousand with a few loaves and fishes but I could feed a small army on half a stone of spuds and a pound of mince. But one other memory stands out for me where, like Jesus, I first ran into trouble with the religious authorities. I recently entered it in a memoir competition although it is more autobiography, but it came nowhere so here it is for your reading pleasure or not!

Communists in the Convent!

I don’t know where my interest in politics began, I think it was partly by osmosis. Growing up in Northern Ireland against a background of increasing political unrest made it inevitable that something would rub off. I remember the political figures of the day making their way into our skipping songs;

‘Vote, vote, vote for Bernadette Devlin, here comes Paisley at the door’….at which point someone would jump into the skipping rope and we would sing the song to the end. 

…. ‘for she is the one who will have the best of fun and we won’t see Paisley any more’.          

These names were interchangeable because to us they were just names and didn’t have any particular associations for us. Although it wasn’t long before we knew Bernadette was on our side, and Paisley was on the other. I remember her coming to our street, she was canvassing for election and my mother and several of the women in the neighbourhood all went out to shake her hand. This surprised me as I had never considered my mother as being political in any way.

I also remember learning the words to the Strawb’s  ‘Part of the union’.

‘You won’t get me I’m part of the Union, til the day I die, til the day I die!’ I can still sing it now.  This was probably one of the first signs that I was definitely headed left.

Then in primary 7, I found myself on the receiving end of a campaign of bullying and if there is a defining moment that stands out in memory where something fundamental changed within me then this was it. 

I had had a disagreement with a girl in my class, what it was about I don’t remember but she was someone I never particularly liked, she was spoiled and vain, and looked down her nose at everyone. From there it had escalated as she and her ‘gang’ had taken to following me home every day in a twisted game of follow my leader, where every movement and gesture was copied and mocked. There seemed to be no end in sight, as I endured another lunchtime of mockery and the gang seemed to be increasing in numbers, and that was when I decided enough was enough!

Parents seldom involved themselves in their children’s quarrels back then so there was no point in trying to get anyone at home to listen. There were too many of them to take on single-handedly and so, after thinking and re-thinking my options, I decided that after lunch I was going to take the only one available and talk to the teacher, and hopefully get it sorted out for once and for all. I waited until everyone was seated back in the classroom and then I walked up to the teachers desk and simply said: 

‘Miss I have a problem and I need you to help me sort it out’.

She was taken aback because I wasn’t known as the type to put myself forward and was usually quite reserved but she gave me a fair hearing, listened to the other side as, of course, they denied all but then, inevitably, broke down in tears. Apologies were made and accepted and so it was sorted and we passed our final months at primary school in peace. 

I was particularly pleased at how I had handled the situation and it had given me a renewed confidence which was exactly what I needed as I was due to start in the local Convent Grammar that September. My older sister had begun the year before and had regaled me with tales of real experiments in Chemistry and real cooking in Domestic Science. I couldn’t wait to get started and felt that the world was finally opening up and that bigger and better things lay ahead. 

As far as memory serves, it was a quiet summer and nothing extraordinary happened and I was glad when September finally rolled around and marched proudly off to school with a bag full of books and a heart full of ambition.

From being the oldest class in primary school, it was a bit of a come down to find you were back at the bottom of the ladder but this was the big school and the disappointment was soon forgotten when I was given my first time-table. Not only was everything more interesting and grown-up but there, first thing on Monday morning, was a subject I hadn’t even considered, Drama!  This was turning out even better than expected.

I had always loved performing. I had sang on stage at concerts in our local Parish hall, I played the violin and did Irish dancing as well, so stepping out on to a stage was second nature to me. This was the next step in my development, real acting on a real stage, Hollywood here I come!

Sister Pius was the teacher. I was a bit disappointed by that as I didn’t imagine it was a subject a nun would know much about. She was small, not much bigger than me, slightly built with a fringe of dark hair visible at the front of her veil, she was very neat in appearance and held herself stiffly which made her seem a bit uptight for something like Drama. However, when we had our first lesson all my fears were dispelled, she seemed to know her stuff as she talked about voice and poise. To help us with this, we were set an essay for our second lesson, it was titled, ‘Something I believe in’, and we were to read it aloud in front of the class the following week. 

I was thunder struck as I realized I had a head full of ideas and beliefs which I had never articulated. Not only were they there, but I all of a sudden I had an urgent desire to express them, I wanted the world to sit up and listen, I had important things to say! Opportunities like this didn’t happen every day and I determined I was going to make the most of it, Pandora’s box had opened.

A few of my classmates were nervous about having to stand up in front of everyone and talk but that didn’t bother me in the least, this was right up my street as I decided this was my destiny and imagined a future making great speeches to large audiences who cheered and clapped at every utterance.   

The only thing I had to figure out now was which great idea or belief I was going to write about. I definitely believed that David Bowie was the greatest singer in the world but I wasn’t sure if that would be an impressive enough subject, I wanted to dazzle everyone with my great thinking and wonderful ideas so, after some consideration, I settled on my subject, Communism, now there was something I could believe in. 

I had become interested in Communism for a few reasons, one being that every time Russia was mentioned my mother would go into a rant about the Communists wanting to take over the world and turn us all into ‘Godless heathens’. This really appealed to me as we were marched out to Mass for every Holy Day in the calendar, not to mention May and October Devotions. 

We had also been subjected to a daily round of family Rosary a few years before, after the Pope issued some edict on the matter, and my mother being the most Catholic Catholic in town, insisted in following orders. The thing about the Family Rosary was that it was to be at six every evening so, after being dragged in for it a couple of times, we soon realized that if we disappeared about ten minutes beforehand, then it was easily avoided. At five forty-five every evening, there was a veritable exodus from the street as not only me and my siblings disappeared but half the neighbourhood as well. 

The Rosary was soon abandoned amid despairing admonitions from my mother that ‘she didn’t know what kind of crowd she was rearing!’  There were a lot of good Catholic mothers back then whose devotion to their faith would contribute to a rising tide of atheism.   

The other reason for my embracing all things Communist was that under their system everyone was equal, at least that was the theory. I was the middle child in my family, quiet by nature, I was often overlooked and I was still smarting over the promise of a special present for passing the eleven plus which never materialized. So, after all that, quite frankly, the Red Army couldn’t get here quick enough!

As I started my essay, I realized I didn’t really know enough about Communism, apart from the idea that everyone is supposed to be equal so I had to do some research. I checked out the school library and got loads of information from one of the encyclopaedias.  All the big names were there; Marx, Lenin, Castro.

Totalitarianism was mentioned which I didn’t really feel comfortable about as it sounded a bit like the Catholic Church but, after some consideration, I thought I’ll stick it in anyway and resolved to look into all the authoritarian stuff later.  

And so I crafted it over the week, standing, reading it aloud to my younger sisters. This was great stuff, everyone would be dead impressed! 

Monday morning I was up and off to school early, the big day was finally here. Sitting in class, essay in hand I was suddenly struck by fear; what if someone else wrote about my subject and they got to read first?  It would look as if I had copied them. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner? I counted, there were about 9 in front of me…and the first one was about to go up.

‘Something I believe in’

I held my breath,

‘My Parents’

And let it out relieved.

‘Parents!’ I thought to myself, ‘is she serious?’ 

Of course we all applauded when she finished. The next one stood up.

‘Something I believe in’

Again I held my breath,

‘The Catholic Church’.

‘The Catholic Church!! You have got to be kidding me, God, these people have no imagination at all’ I thought. 

I started to relax as one after another, they stood up to read, a total of three subjects; God, the Catholic Church and parents, sometimes a specific parent like their daddy or their mammy. I couldn’t believe it! I had worried unnecessarily, there was no competition in this crowd at all, this was going to make me look even better!

Finally it was my turn, I stood up, took my place in front of the class, gave my papers a quick shake, a little dramatic gesture to draw their attention and read: 

‘Something I believe in’…I took a deep breathe and said…‘Communism’

I looked up to gauge the response…all eyes were on me...and so I began.

As I finished, feeling very pleased with myself, I scanned the crowd. I had definitely made an impression, there were murmurings in the crowd and quite a few looks of surprise. As I waited for my round of applause Sister Pius started to stand up, ‘I’m not going to get a round of applause, I’m going to get a standing ovation, from the teacher herself!’ I thought…..

In hindsight, of course, I think the only reason I got to the end of the essay was that the nun was in such a state of shock she was unable to speak or move until that moment. 

As she walked towards me, I could see from the expression on her face that something wasn’t quite right. Her face had gone very pale and hers lips were pursed tightly together.

‘THIS CLASS IS OVER AIDEEN DEVINE OUTSIDE NOW!’ she demanded emphasizing every syllable. For such a small, slight woman she suddenly had a very strong angry voice.

As I was marched out of the room, I racked my brains trying to think what had gone wrong?   

‘AID DEEN DEE VINE, where did you get this?’ she demanded. I didn’t really know what to say and looked at her dumbly.

‘I know your mother and your Aunt MaryB’ she said. My aunt was a teacher and best friends with Sister Ursula and my mother had done some substitute teaching in her time so the Nuns all knew them which, of course, didn’t help at all. 

‘WHO is telling you these things?  WHO is putting these ideas into your head?’ she demanded again, almost screaming. What was I supposed to say, I didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about?  I thought about my mother and wondered if Sister Pius thought as she did. Did she too believe the Communists were plotting to take over the world and part of their dastardly plan was to accost Catholic school girls and brain wash them with their ideas, and they had somehow infiltrated our small town?  Before I could answer she snatched the paper out of my hand.

‘COMMUNISTS!’ she said, shaking it at me and starting to turn red. ‘COMMUNISTS!’ she repeated, a little louder this time as if she needed to hear it again because she couldn’t quite believe it the first time. Building to a crescendo she shrieked, ‘THEY DON’T EVEN BELIEVE IN GOD!’

To me that was a minor detail, in my thinking there was no real conflict between God and communism, I mean it says in the bible that we were all created equal in the eyes of God, to me that’s just what Communism was all about. In my naivety/stupidity (take your pick), I finally answered,

‘No-one sister, I thought of this myself ’ and was about to start to explain the thinking behind it when she started to gasp for air and her eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of their sockets. ‘God, she’s going to have a heart attack’ I thought and wondered if I should wait until she collapsed, or run and get help now. I hedged my bets, worried that I would be held responsible for the death of a nun and decided to wait. After some moments she managed to suck in a deep breath and recover some of her composure, much to my relief! 

‘YOU thought of this!’ she screamed, a little less hysterically. ‘HOW COULD YOU?!!’  The volume started to rise again. ‘You’re not even allowed to THINK these things, never mind SAY them or BELIEVE in them!’ she screeched.

I didn’t know what to say to that, I felt confused. ‘Not allowed to think!’ The phrase ran around in my head, this just didn’t make any sense. ‘Not allowed to think’ I thought again, because I couldn’t quite believe that was what she had really said. ‘Surely you can think anything?’ I thought. ‘How can thinking be wrong?’ I was about to query this when the bell rang for next period which interrupted the moment. There was nothing more to be said, at least not by me.

‘Go to your next class!’ she ordered and turned to go.  She stopped, and looked at me again, ‘I’ll be keeping my eye on you!’ she warned, and stomped off towards the Staff room….

So, apart from the Nuns, my mother, and some of the teachers, the response was on the whole quite positive.  Several of my classmates were impressed and wanted to know more and while it would give me the greatest pleasure to report that the Convent Grammar became a hotbed of subversive political activity, unfortunately, I can’t.  The only thing I can report is that Drama was taken off our timetable much to my eternal disappointment.

Unfortunately, this was a foretaste of what lay ahead for all my educational ambitions. Chemistry had a grand total of two experiments, dipping litmus paper in various solutions and making blue crystals. They changed the rules for Domestic Science that year too; there would be no cooking in first year, it would be theory only and by the time we got to second year, I had long since lost interest and gave it up. I was never destined for domestic servitude.

Although these were disappointments, there was one silver lining in this cloud. My old protagonist and leader of the bullies never got to read out her essay and was very vocal in letting everyone know how annoyed she was about it, but we were all on new ground here and since most of her gang hadn’t got into the Grammar School, there was nothing she could do about it.

Salvation also lay in English with Mr. Gallagher who had regular class debates where, although everyone got their turn, somehow, I always managed to have a place on one side or the other, even if we never got to debate the motion ‘This house believes in Communism’.

My dramatic ambitions thwarted, it would be many years before I would get up in front of an audience again but I recently joined a drama group and am very happily back treading the boards. It may not be Hollywood but at least I’m getting to do something I love.

Over the years my interest in politics never waned either, although it has gone through a few reincarnations.  I’ve joined several different political parties at different times but at some point my thinking always diverges from the party line and conscience, among other things, compels me to leave. 

I’ve been called an anarchist on several occasions, that being one of the nicer things that has been said and I’ve often been told I ‘think too much’. People think they’re insulting me when they say these things and I usually answer ‘Well someone has to, because no one else seems to be!’ 

The Red Army never got as far as my home town and with the fall of the Berlin Wall it’s been an increasingly lonely position being the only Communist in town. I think me and Fidel are the only two left, although his health is a worry these days and, whatever you think of his politics, you have to admire his staying power in facing down the bullies of Western capitalism (see I still know the lingo). Soon I’ll be the only one left, (I don’t recognize China, ironically, for political AND religious reasons), not that it bothers me, I was never one for following the crowd, being chased by them was more my style!

I still describe myself politically, as a Communist and what I have come to realize is, my Communism is my own and identifies more with that twelve-year-old believer in equality for all than Lenin or Marx. I’m still waiting for the Red Army to arrive but, metaphorically not literally and, who knows, with the present economic climate and discontent, my days of making great speeches to large crowds may lie ahead and the revolution might just start here!  

Today guys you are going to love me!  In the battle of the sexes there is one issue that it a complete mystery to me, leaving the toilet seat up. Seriously, what is that all about? So the guy comes in, lifts the toilet seat, does what he has to do and leaves without putting the seat back down. That's it, no big deal. Woman comes in puts seat down and does what she has to do, then leaves without putting the toilet seat back up.

You see this is the core of the issue and this guys shows that you're not giving it enough thought. I am now going to give you the return argument if the toilet seat is an issue in your relationship. Where is it written in stone that the toilet seat has to be down? Why can it not be up? Nowhere because, realistically, men you could make this an issue if you really wanted to.

'No she never leaves the toilet seat up when she finishes and I always have to come in and put it up. Next time I'll just not bother and splash all over it'. See what I mean - end of argument.

And, ladies, sorry but if this is an issue for you in your relationship, then my advice to you is to go live in a Sudanese refugee camp for a week or two, it might help you get a little perspective on it. Because the only real issue in the bathroom is - do we have toilet roll? 

Watching the Olympic opening ceremony the other night, I realized that the soundtrack of the opening was also the soundtrack of my life. While I was born, and still live in Northern Ireland, I identify with a lot of aspects of British culture.

I mostly watch BBC television and listen to BBC radio. David Bowie was my first crush and Led Zeppelin my favourite band. I recognized the films clips from Kes and Billy Elliot, they’re both in my own film collection and, of course, I can thank the OU for knowing all about Glastonbury Tor. When I thing about identity, or what country or people I identify with, then there are so many influences that have shaped me that it would be almost impossible to identify with one country or one group of people alone. I would have considered myself Irish growing up but, realistically, there are many aspects of Irish culture that I can’t relate to at all especially the drinking culture.

Politically, the group I identify most with are the working class, but I also identify with women across the globe, especially those in countries like Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan in their struggles against male domination. I can also identify with the black man’s struggle against racial bigotry, Malcolm X is my one of my political heroes and I often think his assassination was a greater loss to the American people than Dr King. I also identify with the Native American community in their struggles to survive after the loss of their land and the ongoing problems that alcohol has caused in their communities.

Spiritually, I identify with their idea of the Great Spirit but I also identify with the Chinese philosophy of Taoism and Tibetan Buddhism. Christianity is the faith I was brought up in and I also have a lot of regard for the teachings of Jesus. There is a school of thought that believes that Jesus studied Eastern philosophy, part of this comes from his saying, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life’….because Taoism translates as the ‘way’ and, of course, there are many other similarities between both philosophies. (I prefer to call them philosophies, not religions because, at their core, they are about seeking truths about how to live morally and ethically) 

When I consider all of these things, I can’t stand up and say I am one thing and one thing alone, I don’t belong to one homogenous group, to the exclusion of all others. I am a sub-culture of many different places and peoples and when you think about it, aren’t we all? 

We eat the food from different places, are influenced by other peoples ideas and ways of living, we have been shaped by so many different things that when politicians start deriding multi-culturalism, I often wonder how interesting it would be, if all the people in the country who had a parent or grand-parent from a different country went out on strike for a day. I think it would be really interesting to see just how multi-cultural we all are and I’m sure there would be a few surprises among them all. Even the Queen is descended from Germany on one side of the family.

And there was another thing about the Olympic opening, when the athletes were coming in, there were very few countries that weren’t multi-cultural. I have often said that time will prove Darwin right and all those people of dark skin who came to live in traditionally white countries, and all the white people who have moved to places like Africa and Australia, will eventually have descendants with different coloured skin. It won’t happen overnight, it’ll take a few generations but I remember the first time I saw a picture of Eugene Terre-Blanche, the leader of the right-wing National Party in South Africa, I remarked that it was strange for a black man to be leading a right-wing party, when I was informed he was white. Well, he didn’t look very white to me and that was what got me thinking about it. If the Theory of Evolution is right, it follows logically that is what should happen, as they adapt to their new environment. I discussed this with a friend one night, whose parents were originally from India, and he had to agree that his skin was lighter, and he noticed when he went back to India on holiday, how much paler he was compared to his relatives.    

I have done a bit of traveling in the last few years and what I have noticed over and over again is that no matter where you live, or what political or religious philosophy you subscribe to, the fact is, there is only one human race and the vast majority of us are just trying to make our way in the world. We want to be happy, we want a reasonable standard of living and we want to watch our children grow up in peace. 

We’re very lucky in this part of the world, in spite of our social and political problems, that most of us have a roof over our heads, most of us have enough to eat and, the truth is, most of us live like kings compared to other parts of the world. We have a lot to be grateful for and yet we take so much for granted, we throw away our lives and chances with drugs and alcohol. We have eyes but we don’t really see the great beauty that is all around us in nature and in people. We have ears but when we are out and about, they are usually plugged into an ipod, or suchlike, and we never stop and really listen to the birds singing, or the wind soughing through the trees.  (Great word that, soughing)

Western society has us tied in knots, we have been burdened with the stuff of capitalism and consumerism, we feel cut off and alone, most of us don’t even know our neighbours. Those who rule over us are so out of touch with our basic reality that it makes us feel powerless to effect any sort of meaningful change. We have grown tired and cynical as we have seen politician after politician promise us the sun, moon and stars only to watch those same people, once elected, become another political clone, the grey man in the grey suit who helps fill the pockets of the rich, while ignoring the plight and reality of the rest of us. We yearn to be part of something, to unburden ourselves of the debt and pressure of modern life, we want to live simpler and better lives. We don’t need to be millionaires or billionaires but is it really too much to expect a reasonable wage for a reasonable day’s work? 

In Steve Hagen’s book, ‘Buddhism, Plain and Simple’ -  ‘Henry Ford, after he make his first billion dollars, was asked how much more he wanted.  He said he wanted just a little more’.

Henry Ford was also a bigot, and ferociously anti- Semitic, he advocated expelling all the Jews from the US. So, for all his wealth, it doesn’t seem that Henry was a very happy man but it does allow us to see the thinking behind those who have so much wealth. Governments have advocated the ‘trickle down’ effect as way of re-distributing wealth. The idea is that if we allow the rich to become even more richer, then the wealth they create will trickle down. Unfortunately, the rich and the very rich, or ‘the haves and the have mores’, as George Bush so succinctly put it, like to keep all their money for themselves that’s why they are rich to begin with!

History will judge us, and history will condemn us, for the simple reason that those who had so much were allowed to keep it, while others were left to starve to death. We can’t say we didn’t know because we do know and while most of us are not millionaires or billionaires and are limited in what we can do, governments are not.  We need change and we need it at the top because that is where the power is. We need to think about who we vote for and why. Do we really subscribe to the tenants of the religious faiths we belong to or are we all just too worn out and tired trying to make it from one working week to the next to think about our actions from a moral or ethical perspective?

Change will come, whether by choice or circumstances, the global capitalist system has failed although governments across the globe are still desperately trying to prop it up. We are now living through the last days of global capitalism. This way of living is coming to and end, it was never sustainable anyway. The economy is contracting and India and China are experiencing an economic slow down as well. (One thing the recession has done for me, is that I realized how few of the trappings of consumerism, I really need. I was out of work for a year and living on the dole certainly helps focus the mind on what you really need, as opposed to, what you want) 

Capitalism is sustained by two things, oil and consumption. Oil is a finite resource and there are those who say we have already reached peak oil production, so it’s going to be all downhill from here. When I look around my house, as I’m sure you can too, ask yourself, just how many more products do you really need?  When every room has the flat-screen tv, there are two or, maybe three cars parked outside, your wardrobe is stuffed with clothes and shoes and all the incumbent accessories, and you probably only wear the same 3 or 4 outfits, again and again. The bathroom is overflowing with lotions and potions, the kitchen is the same with all the gizmos and gadgets and around the TV in the living room, there are so many electrical items that a six- plug extension, with surge protection, of course, can barely cover it. 

We need to really start thinking about the future and sustainable living, because if we don’t start planning now, then we are in for some very tough times ahead. If we don’t start preparing for a world without oil, then we’ll be facing a future of famine and war. There is a lot of talk around electric cars but how are they going to be built when manufacturing depends on oil, not to mention the tarmac needed for the roads?  And what about electricity, how are we going to be able to provide the energy levels that we enjoy now? 

These are all questions that need to be taken seriously and we need to start looking for the answers. In looking forward, we need to look back to how we lived before we all became part of the capitalist system. I have always envied and admired the Native Americans and their lifestyle before ‘old whitey’ landed. They lived sustainably and didn’t desecrate the land the way we do. Christopher Columbus didn’t have to wade through rubbish dumps, or slum housing and ghettoes when he landed in the Americas. The first Europeans who arrived thought they had found the Garden of Eden as the land was so pristine and abundant with food. We need to find some middle way between our technology and our resources so that we can take all the scientific and technological achievements and marry them so as to create a society that can sustain itself and work for everyone together, not just for those at the top. And to be able to do it without ravaging the planet, because this is one area where we will all be in it together and if, we don’t start making real plans, then there are some very dark days ahead for our children and grandchildren.

(The Native American communities are being ravaged by alcohol. The Lakota Sioux in South Dakota are trying to raise money to build a healing centre to help deal with the problems that alcohol is causing on the reservation and to care for children when their parents can’t. It is called Oceti Wakan, which means Sacred Fireplace. If you wish to donate you can log on to their website, just type in Oceti Wakan and you’ll find it)

One of the items on the RTE News this week caught my eye (one of the advantages of living along the border, we get all the British and Irish Channels).

Apparently, there has been an increase in suicides among young men due to the economic situation here.  Figures showed that 38% of these young men were unemployed, while 32% worked in construction, which is the sector suffering most since the downturn. I also read in the New Statesman that suicide rates in Greece have gone up 40% since the austerity crisis.

The high suicide rate relates to men and boys and a few years ago there was a European report which showed that the suicide rate in this part of Ireland was 73% per cent higher than anywhere else in Europe. So, although the present economic situation is partly to blame at the moment, there are also other reasons why young men are suffering so much. 

One of these, I believe, is the level of violence aimed at young men. I never knew how bad it was in this country for young men until I had some of my own. Throughout their lives, from they were children until they were grown up, their primary experience of dealing with older men and boys was one of threat, violence, bullying and intimidation. I remember having a conversation with my youngest son many years ago when he was at secondary school and he said to me, ‘Mum, you have no idea what it is like, every day, all you get is, I’m gonna fight you, I’m gonna get you.’ 

This level of threat has followed them right through their lives, from their teachers to their peer group, to work colleagues. I remember, as a teenager, witnessing a teacher slapping a twelve year old boy on his hands with a leather strap that was a quarter of an inch thick and feeling physically ill. (I was in another classroom that overlooked his). I have seen numerous acts of violence committed against young men throughout my life and, so, it was no surprise to me to read that young men under the age of twenty five were more likely to be victims of violence than any other group.

Here in the North, there is another more sinister side to this violence that comes from a self-appointed Republican paramilitary group RAAD, who are shooting and beating up young men for minor drug offences (the major drug dealers pay protection to other criminal groups so they don’t get touched). They think if they add Republican to their name, this gives them some sort of legitimacy within the Nationalist community. We have had the extraordinary situation of parents bringing their sons to these people to be shot out, of fear that if they didn’t, there would be worse done to the whole family.  

There is also the cultural aspect to this, the macho culture that continually supports the ridiculous idea that males need to be toughened up. A few weeks ago, I read a letter in the Observer newspaper from a doctor, (unfortunately the paper went to the recycling) who said that males were the weaker sex, that a premature child was more likely to die if it was male. I was also speaking to a school principal who taught at a girls school for many years before becoming principal of a boys school. She told me that there was a huge difference in them and that girls were smarter, quicker and matured earlier and the boys were more naïve and took a lot longer to mature. I have to say that concurs with my own experience of bringing up boys and girls.

The question I would like to pose is this – what if all this violence was being directed towards young girls?  What would we be doing then, society would be in uproar!  A friend of mine asked this question at a recent community meeting, he works with and counsels young men. After the meeting, he was taken aside and told not to ask the question again by members of one of our ‘political parties’.

What kind of society have we created which accepts that young men are legitimate targets for violence and do not deserve to be treated with the same gentleness and kindness as young women? Why do boys have to be toughened up and made to repress their emotions? 

There are also paradoxes to this here in Ireland and that is in the way young males are ‘mammied’. Where their mother, whether through her own narcissism, or through some warped idea of her role as a parent, mollycoddle young men and do everything for them, indulging them all the time. The outcome of this, is to leave a grown up boy who is incapable of caring for himself, who has never learned how to deal with issues in a mature fashion and who finds himself in adulthood completely unprepared for, and unable to cope with, the realities of life.

A boy is a human being and, as such, has the same emotional range as a girl. He needs to be allowed to freely express his feelings as a child in order to learn how to manage and control them so that they don’t overwhelm him then when faced with crises later in adulthood.   

The role of a parent is to prepare your child for life in the real world. To spoil a child is about the worst thing you can do for them and is not a sign of your love for them but a sign of your own emotional immaturity. Most of us love our children and only want the best for them but spoiling a child is the laziest form of parenting because it requires no effort. I watched Rabbi Shmuley Botech on Oprah a few years ago and he drew a great analogy that has always stayed with me. He said that if we thought about it in terms of meat, it would help us to see it more clearly, a piece of meat that is spoiled is rotten and no good to anybody.

This is exactly true of children, the worst people to deal with in life are those who have been spoiled because they expect everything their way, have no empathy for others and have an overbearing sense of their own importance, (the front bench of the Tory party is a fine example of this) and while your child may be important to you, the rest of the world is not so enamoured.

As a society. we need to re-think how we treat our children, boys and girls. Our young men are in crisis and there are not enough grown-up men to help them negotiate their way into adulthood. We all need to take a long hard look at ourselves as parents and human beings because we are failing our children. We try to impose cultural falsehoods on them about how they should act and behave with no regard for the person they are. We allow these levels of violence against them to go unchecked and even believing it is for their own good. Men will not stop being violent until they are brought up without violence, when it is seen as the evil it is and not as something all boys need.

So be kind to your sons and if you want to spoil your child, spoil them with your time and attention. Make an effort and show them their true worth and how to value it. The constant threat of violence only leads to more violence and, inevitably, plays out in the ultimate act of violence against the self, suicide. The job of parenting is probably the hardest job there is, you are responsible for preparing this other human for life, it’s a profound role  and it requires effort but it has it’s own rewards when we see our children grow up into happy respectful people.

 As a final thought I would like you to think about this, the Lakota word for child is Wakanyeja, it translates as ‘sacred being’. Imagine what kind of world we could create if every child born was treated as a sacred being.     

Well, here we go again, another banking scandal, quelle surprise!! 

Yes, because we all know that bankers are honest, hard-working, decent types only interested in looking after our money and giving us the best deal they can offer! So what if they fixed the interest rates, mis-sold mortgages, mis-sold insurance, gave themselves huge bonuses and salaries and screwed up the computers, not to mention all those billions they lost.

Well, anyone can make a mistake can't they? I mean, it's probably not really their fault is it? If the nasty old governments had just got rid of ALL the regulation and let them do whatever they wanted well, they would have sorted things out all on their own, wouldn't they?

When you think about it, it's probably the fault of those poor people and all those benefits cheats who get their benefits paid into bank accounts, yes, clogging up the system, they probably shouldn't even be allowed to have a bank account!!  Because £67.50 a week to live on, if you're a single person, is tantamount to living a life of luxury. Just think of all the places you can go and things you can do with £67.50 a week, after you've bought your groceries and paid all your bills. It's no wonder so many people want to live on the dole isn't it?

It just doesn't compare to Bob Diamond's millions, does it, or David Cameron's? I mean what sort of hardship must David Cameron have grown up in when everything was handed to him on a plate. Living a life of privilege, going to the best schools and colleges, never having to worry about what he was going to wear or what he would eat for dinner, or if the house would be warm enough in the winter. I mean, it must get so frustrating being one of the elite that him and his mates used to go out and trash restaurants on the weekend when they were pissed. Of course, daddy paid for it all because, you know, it's not like those people in the riots who seemed to think that they were entitled to do whatever they like. I mean, they were vandals, not like David and his pals, well, that was just youthful high spirits, wasn't it? 

I don't know what you mean, double standard, indeed!

And let's not forget the hordes of immigrants who are arriving by the boat-load daily. If we didn't have all them to worry about we might have noticed what was going on and helped the bankers to look after things better. You know who I mean, all those people fleeing dictatorships and the like, you know, all those countries that the white Europeans used to own, when they had empires and those places where they helped to throw over the democratically-elected governments and install those friendly dictators who would help the British and American arms industry by buying all those weapons and tanks and things. 

You know, I can't remember them all, well, like we did in Iraq and Iran, helping those backward peoples with their funny religions to find the true path to democracy and capitalism, so they can live like us, burdened with taxes and worried about keeping our jobs, and paying mortgages on our negative equity properties. Why should they be allowed to live in peace and harmony with nature in their own countries? We know better than them, everybody knows that! That's why we had to go there, to teach them, to make them civilised like us. 

HA, HA, HA, Ha, ha, ha, haAAAA!!! 

What are you laughing at? I don't think this is a laughing matter at all!!

Actually, you know you're right, because if this was really true, it wouldn't be funny at all......it would be tragic! 

I know the blog has been neglected a bit recently but I've been busy rehearsing for a play which is on this weekend in An Grianan Theatre in Letterkenny. So, if you're in Co Donegal this weekend and have nothing better to do, then come along and watch our showcase. 

We're doing excerpts from the Neil Simon play The Good Doctor. I'll be in the second cast on Sunday night which no doubt will probably be on You Tube at some point.

I have just submitted my final assignment, YEEEEEHAAAAA! 

Good luck to everyone with their work and I look forward to next year and another seven months of stress, doubt, worry and then triumph and relief.  When that last assignment has been submitted and you thank God ,you stuck it out and have notched up another year, and are another step closer to your goal!!!

Looking forward to Power, Equality and Dissent already.  The OU is a bit like labour.  You think you're never going to get through it, and then five minutes after it's over, the stress didn't seem so bad after all, and you look forward to doing it all again!!!

Ah life, what a wonderful pleasure, pain ,up and downy great experience it is, ENJOY!!!!

Looking at the results of the local elections in Britain, I have to say I find it very disappointing to see how low the turnout has been, although considering how democracy has been subverted for many years now, it’s hardly a surprise that people have lost faith in the political system.  I think this is due in part to the fact that there is no mechanism for appeal once a party has been elected, so the politicians can promise all sorts during the campaign trail, but once in office, they can do what ever they like which, of course, they have done and there is no one to stop them or make them follow through on the promises they made. 

 I also think we are still suffering the fall out from the Thatcher era.  Her attack on the unions, strongly backed by a right-wing media (I for one, am delighted that the past is finally catching up with Rupert Murdoch and his whole media dictatorship, having been railing against him for years) has left the working-classes without a way into politics or a strong voice that truly represents them. 

 All the political parties are now populated by upper/middle class public school boys who have no idea how the other 95% of the population live.  That the front bench in the House of Commons is full of millionaires, speaks volumes about our so-called democracy.  Where is the voice of the working-classes in Parliament?  Even the so-called left wingers seem so egotistical and arrogant that they don’t really speak for ordinary people any more, with the exception of Dennis Skinner and, since Tony Benn retired, they are becoming thinner on the ground and there does not seem to be any new blood following in their steps.  Politics is now a career for the upper middle-classes and they work in the interests of one group, and one group only, their own. 

The whole class system too, is part of the problem.  The most obvious example of this is the House of Lords.  The whole idea of an unelected upper house based on class and privilege is so anachronistic in the 21^st Century and completely subverts what is supposed to be a democracy.  Why should these people have this right?  It supports privilege for some and exclusion for most of the rest of us.  How can Britain even claim to be a democracy when this system remains in place.

 What is really needed is political reform, but how is that going to be achieved when it is in the interest of the ruling classes to maintain the status quo?  The truth is, is that those who now rule, are not the least bit interested in democracy but are only interested in self-promotion and self-protection for themselves and their own social class.  And I’m really going to p*ss off the middle-classes with this next statement because I believe that they too, are partly to blame for the situation. 

The class system is elitist and unfortunately too many aspire to be part of it.  I don’t believe in the middle-class, and if you think of yourself as middle-class then you are, in my eyes, a working-class snob.  What does it even really mean to be middle-class, other than you have more money and a bigger house (or should that be mortgage, another con, but a subject for another day) than someone who is called working-class.  Middle class is an illusion, you either work for a living or you don’t, and to divide people into class groups is nothing more than social apartheid, and is every bit as disingenuous and damaging, as the racial apartheid that existed in South Africa.

 So how do we resolve the political apathy that exists?  Well, firstly, I would like to say thank-you to all those who did turn out to vote, at least you made the effort.  To all those who didn’t vote or who haven’t voted for years, I challenge you.  If you are so disillusioned with the system and those self –serving politicians, then put yourself forward for election next time.  Go forward as an independent, and let’s start a campaign to fill Parliament with independents at the next General Election, because your vote IS your voice and if you don’t use it, even if it is to spoil it, then you shouldn’t even be allowed an opinion. 

 Politics affects every area of our lives, and almost seventy per cent of the people who were entitled to vote, didn’t even bother to turn out.  Now, what if those seventy per cent had turned out and voted for the most politically independent candidate on the ballot paper?  Or just for the fun of it, voted for anyone as long as they were not a candidate for any of the big three?  What kind of difference could that have made?  Because it isn’t just one vote, it amounts to millions when used collectively or not, as the case may be.  Opting out resolves nothing, if you want to change it, then you have to get in there and do something about it, otherwise things will just remain the same. 

 And when you do get in, remember why you are there.  Get rid of the House of Lords, and while you’re at it, do your best to dismantle the class system, and that means removing the Queen from Parliament.  The monarchy is an out-dated system and doesn’t really have a place in a truly democratic society.  I have nothing personally against the Queen, she seems like a really nice woman, she can still be Queen if that’s what people want, but an honour’s system that confers titles, again supports the social elitism of the class system and she doesn’t have any political power, so why is she even there?  I read in the paper today about a move to bring in changes to the Honour’s system by removing Empire from titles and instead give awards that are more reflective of the reality of life in Britain today.  Rather ironic that the Queen’s Lord Lieutenants are more in touch with the social reality of Britain, than our so-called Parliamentary democracy!!

 And remember too, that when elected, regardless of who has, or who has not voted for you, you have a moral obligation to govern in the best interests of all the people in the country, because the business of government, is the business of the people, and the business of the people, is the business of government.  This means, that government has a moral obligation to work in the best interests of the entire population and that the population too has a responsibility to be aware of what their government is doing, and to hold them accountable for it, and the only way we have of doing that at the present time IS WITH YOUR VOTE.  So please, use it!

Strong opinions are expressed here. You have been warned!!

Ahhh marriage, that great old institution, the bedrock of a civilised society, the foundation upon which all stable families depend and……..Oh what was that !!!  I must have fallen asleep and been dreaming, it’s ok, I’m awake now!!

Marriage, well it certainly is an institution!  Having indulged and been lucky enough to have escaped with all my faculties intact (just about), I have to say that the institution analogy is very appropriate.  As a matter of fact, I think we should replace the wedding rings with something more symbolically appropriate, like a straight-jacket and a frontal lobotomy for her, and a remote control and a lifetime’s subscription to Sky sports for him. 

Because that’s what seems to happen to couples after the rings go on. She disappears into herself and forgets that she used to have life outside of housework and children. Every day merges into the same miserable drudgery until you’re living in some nightmarish Groundhog day scenario, with each day as monotonous and soul destroying as the next. 

And as for him!! Well, what can I say, all of a sudden the antics of some football team and ownership of the remote control becomes a life or death struggle in getting through the daily round of mutual loathing and  contempt that your marriage has become. 

You look at him/her and try to remember what it was about this person that you used to profess to love for.  LOVE?? You say to yourself, bitterly, what does that even mean? How can something that was supposed to be so wonderful, turn so quickly into this seething hotbed of petty power struggles and sneering asides; where trying to agree what DVD to watch on a Saturday night can quickly descend into a trade-off of insults where her mother’s overbearing intrusion is voiced for half the neighbourhood to hear, and where his father’s personal habits are dissected with a venom that sends small animals and children running for cover; where all those little annoyances, like hanging the toilet roll the wrong way, can escalate into an issue of such magnitude that the UN put a platoon of special forces on stand-by, just in case! You finally agree but agree isn’t really the word is it?  What actually happens is that someone has to back down, adding another layer of contempt to an already expanding portfolio of her f**king whinges and his all-round uselessness.

In time, you’ll look back and wonder if you were suffering from some sort of mental pathology, as you remember how you actively pursued this state. You’ll recall how you wanted this, how you dreamed and planned for it, saved every penny to pay for it, maybe even borrowed thousands of pounds because you wanted to make your day special, and now, all you can think is ‘What the hell was I thinking, why did nobody warn me?’

You could have travelled the world several times over, had great holidays to exotic countries, met more windswept and interesting people but no, you got married instead. You look over at your other half and can barely contain the sneer quivering on your top lip. Stuck now with children and a mortgage, you’re trapped and the worst thing is, YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF!!!!!   

Yes, marriage, don’t ya just LOVE IT????!!!!

Which makes all the controversy over gay marriage seem a little unnecessary, don’t you think? Personally, I don’t have a problem with gay marriage, far from it, I really think that gay people should be allowed to get married. I mean why should the heterosexual community be the only ones to suffer!  After all, the only people who complain about not being married are people who never were and, believe me, a few years of marriage will certainly cure them of that.

 So if you’re thinking about getting married and reading this is making you nervous, GOOD, you have been warned!!!  But never fear, it’s not all doom and gloom, there is an escape clause, it’s what divorce was invented for. And finally if the worst comes to the worst, remember, marriage may be grand but divorce can be SEVERAL!!!