Twenty Years (more like 200)

I've been reading A People's History of American Empire (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_People%27s_History_of_American_Empire) recently, and it's made me think again about some of the assumptions and ironies of the story of Great Britain. Given our current approach to multi-culturalism, it saddens me to think of the cultural and linguistic heritage that these islands have lost as a result of the monoglottal and mono-structural aggression of the English political system in the last 500 years (and beyond).

The Irish part of these islands' history has been somewhat obliterated by this centralising drive, to the point where there are now more Urdu speakers in the UK than speakers of Scottish Gaelic, driven out of the country or genocidally massacred by the government and the interests of private business during the eighteenth century.

And yet once the barbaric Angles of Northumbria were converted to Christianity and introduced to literacy by Irish speaking monks.

It's not just the Americans who have a less than pure history of internal political, social, economic and racial aggression.

'Seo do leabhar,
Sea do pheann.
"Dean do leasan", thuirt iad riumsa,
"'S gunn eirich sibh suas anns an t-saoghal
'S gheibh sibh an adhart ann."

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn.

Dh'ionnsaich sinn a leithid ann
Canan's bardachd, bardachd Bheurla
Ceol na Gearmailt
Eachdraidh na Spainnt
'S b'e sin an eachdraidh mheallt

Bhon sgoil do'n oilthigh chaidh sinn ann
A' leantail foghlum, tuilleadh foghlum
Mar amadan air deiradh streang
Seorsa de dh'fhoghlum 'nam cheann

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn.

Ach dh'eirich mi suas anns an t-saoghal
Fhuair mi deise, 's fhuair mi leine
Fhuair mi aite ann an suilean dhaoin
Fada bhon mhonadh mi'n drasd

Carson a chum iad eadchraidh bhuainn
Innsidh mi dhut, tha iad gealltach
Mas eirich clann nan Gaidheal suas
Le ceistean sireach is cruaidh'

Twenty Years of Deceit
They denied me knowledge of myself

(Thanks to Runrig, and Howard Zinn)

Car Clamping / Cemetry Gates

A dreaded shopping day
So I meet you at the car park gates
Contract Law is on my side
A dreaded clamping day
So I meet you at the car park gates
English property law is not on your side
While your wild clamp is on mine

So I go inside and I gravely read the signs
All those laws, all those rules
Where are they now ?
With thugs, and threats
And signage just like thine
It was unclear
And then you clamped
And then you fined
It seems so unfair
I want to cry

You say : "You accepted the contract when you parked"
And you claim this cash as your own
You've fought well, and I've heard they've paid
A thousand times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write rules
The laws you use should be our own
Don't make them up or threaten, I moan
'Cause there's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who knows
And who trips you up and laughs
When you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh
When you fall

You say : "Pay an extra £50 call out fee"
Words which could only be your own
And I produce the cash
And off was ripped
(It started way before 2004)

A dreaded shopping day
So I meet you at the car park gates
Contract Law is on my side
A dreaded clamping day
So I meet you at the car park gates
Although possession is on your side
You lose
'Cause the CPRs are on mine

Sure !


(With apologies to the Smiths, but none to private car clampers)