Copenhagen

Thanks to my little-ray-of-sunshine husband for the cheerful, if accurate, image.

Brave John MacLean has come hame tae the Clyde!

Ten days ago I was privileged to be invited to the Christmas party for people who've contributed to the work of the Working Class Movement Library in Salford. The afternoon included a range of fascinating readings and songs from some of Greater Manchester's left-wing greats, including the mighty Ewan MacColl, and songs performed by Aidan Jolly (who did a great rendition of a part of Leon Rosselson's very funny Ballad of Spycatcher), Bernie Murphy and a fantastic pair whose names I caught only as Ben(?) and Emily.
One of the songs covered by the latter was the haunting, deeply moving John MacLean March, a song to the Clydeside trade unionist who was the origin of the phrase 'a bayonet is a weapon with a working man at boths ends.' The song itself, written by Alistair Hulett, relates to his imprisonment for three years for sedition in urging the working men of Glasgow to see that fighting in the First World War was not in their interests as a class and that the empty nationalism of the war was a matter for the ruling classes and not those who would simply become their cannon fodder. The song, performed by Dick Gaughan, is here:

Climate change is not funny...

... obviously. It's deeply, deeply scary and unamusing.
But sometimes a certain grim humour can be found in it. Firstly I have to spread the word on one of the genius Marc Roberts' latest cartoons, the script of which was written by my lovely husband from a Copenhagen fantasy I'd had of the members of some of the most evil delegations - USA, Saudi Arabia etc - being eaten alive, very slowly and painfully from the feet up, by the polar bears who are being so painfully wiped out by the impacts of climate change. The cartoon is here.
The second dark little chuckle I've had this morning is at the eejits in, presumably, a) the PR agency hired by cheap flight website Nowfly, and b) Nowfly's own PR department which presumably passed its latest press release. It's headed "A Restive Festive," which is presumably meant to mean 'restful' and somebody thinks they've been terribly clever using the rhyming word instead. Unfortunately 'restive' actually means:

1. impatient of control, restraint, or delay, as persons; restless; uneasy.
2. refractory; stubborn.
3. refusing to go forward; balky: a restive horse.

and, as Dictionary.com continues, derives not from the same verbs as words like rest and restful, but from the Middle English restif meaning "stationary, balking" or the Old French for 'inert.' Which I guess is how many people do end up spending Christmas, but not in the way the advertising wonks intended...

Adsales job! (all in a good cause...)

From MULE...

is looking for someone to bring in advertising revenue through both the website and the newspaper.
The work will involve contacting local businesses and ethical organisations, building a database of contacts and being a point of contact when adverts are submitted.
You will be supported by MULE volunteers and can choose to work from home, or in our city centre office. No experience is necessary but could be an advantage.
To discuss rates of pay, or to arrange an informal interview, please contact Jenny on jen.nelson [at] themule.info, or 07934 699 223.

More Onion genius

Some people will hate this. But I think it's hysterical. And it's my blog.
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/new_study_reveals_most_children

Redwood and barmy things

John Redwood declared on his blog this week that "We will benefit from the better weather for tourism, agriculture and outdoor sports." This, of course, is his in-depth analysis of the impacts of climate change. Genius. This of course happily balances out massive species loss, widespread loss of human life, resource wars - and something that Mr Redwood should really be worried about, given his views on non-Vulcans being allowed to reside in the UK, mass migration.
Another reminder of why the Tories must never be voted for, like we needed any more.
And on a migration tangent - I love Moss Side. I love it's mixedness. Especially when it throws up multicultural wonders like Donner in a Barm. No I won't be eating that (ever), but I'm glad it exists...

Moss Witch

I keep saying I've reached the end of my tether with the BBC - particularly with its repulsive and growing tendency to report the views of scum like Migration Watch and the Taxpayers' Alliance as if these loons are purveyors of reliable research data - but then Auntie keeps doing something to vaguely redeem itself. This time it's support for the National Short Story Awards, which I probably wouldn't have taken an awful lot of notice of if it wasn't for the presence of the marvellous Sara Maitland on the shortlist. And her story, Moss Witch, which touches on some very pertinent tensions between maintaining wild places vs studying them, can be downloaded here (beware, it's nearly half an hour long and the file is 26mb). Sara's three decades of writing seem to manage to touch on many of the Big Questions - gender, sex, nature, religion - with humour and breathtaking lightness and sadness. Personal favourites - novels Virgin Territory and Brittle Joys, and one of my current reads, A Book of Silence. There's something terrifically, terrifyingly wise about much of her writing, especially the last-named book, although it also makes me want to up sticks and become a hermit in the Sinai (if such a thing is possible. I suppose it is in the desert proper, albeit that's still peppered with landmines, but last time I was on Mount Sinai itself the experience was somewhat marred by a Belgian evangelical Christian accordionist who insisted on playing in the dawn with deeply unspiritual wheezings and blarings, despite the other people on the mountain trying to appreciate the heartbreaking wonder of the sun rising over the desert mountains.)