WikiLeaks and all that

WikiLeaks and all that ©

By Michael Casey

WikiLeaks is making the headlines the world over. WikiPedia  its near namesake is very inaccurate, Lenny Henry did a piece about it in his Comedy Show which I watched the other night. Now while I’m talking about Lenny who was born just up the road from where I’m speaking from, he did a 2 part radio play on Radio4 about a washed out Police Padre , now that play deserves to be transferred to TV, so everybody email The Sun and see what we can do.

WikiLeaks shows what can happen when somebody has too much access to military computer systems, and it also proves that the system was not tested enough or at all. The average person at home looks after their computer and their data. Its no use boasting how great a computer system is if its not tested. We have a British citizen who broke into Nasa and other US military computers because he was looking for UFO evidence. Now if he was a terrorist I could understand the USA anger, but he was a simple man who should not be extradited and sent to jail. He should be rewarded for proving how rubbish the security was, he should be given  a job to help sort out the security. The poacher turned gamekeeper approach. I bet the majority of people, lets say 85% would agree with me.

Wikileaks shines a light on diplomacy and its many arts. Some things that have been said we all know would be said anyway. But its embarrassing for these facts to come out. The pot has been stirred and lots of *&^% has hit the fan. Its like a couple of girls in the bathroom saying horrible things about a friend not knowing she was in a cubicle behind them. In films the girls kiss and make up, or the girl gets revenge or  the girl realises she’s a dork and she changes for the better. Sandra Bullock would no doubt star she’d be the girl in the cubicle.

International relations are not about girls in the bathroom, the world is a dangerous place. We have folks who are arming with dangerous toys. Nuclear weapons are the ultimate phallic system, if we could make a wish upon a star we’d all wish them away. Some people love Miami beach others think its dangerous full of dangerous people, others prefer Fort Lauderdale, so it goes with international relations. We have friends who protect us, ie. USA but we don’t want our other friends knowing this.

I was brought up never to tell a lie, are International relations about lies and deceit? Or is it all about the real world, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. Only South Africa gave up the Nuclear phallic, any chance North Korea and Iran will do the same? 

We can all dream and we can all pray, my god is not better than your god. There is only One God and his name is “dad” or “abba” its to him we should all be praying, begging our one God to take away the Evil of trophy nuclear weapons. This is something worthy for all of us to do this Advent season, a new life a new hope is born at Christmas, for without hope the certainty is that someday we’ll all see an atomic flash on the horizon, which would prove we are just a planet of apes.

Just for fun vote on the best photo of me plus your favourite piece of writing

                                                                                                                      

Whats on the Internet

There was a piece in today's DT about the internet, my post Internet Story says a lot about the subject so I've brought it back below.

But I would first say that using the Internet allows you to practice your skills, it allows you to be a verbal Banksy, to share your "wisdom" with the world. It allows you to hijack websites for your own devices, its like shouting at a tv crew or pulling faces at the tv crew while they interview somebody important  or self important, its like mooning while a politician drones on. Which is more important, a politician trying to save face or a mooner behind him?

Me I'm trying to get people to read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker my comic novel. If I had a few quid I'd publish it as an Ebook, at the moment its a free read on my site. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com  I can empathise with singers who used to tour all the old folk clubs being allowed to do three  songs in the interval. Finally they are allowed to do a set of six poems. Mad Dogs and Englishman was a great band from years ago, they may be dead now, I hope not but alcohol has got a few of their kind. Nick Fenwick was another great singer, as was Tommy Dempsy. Back to the Internet, here everybody has their 15mins of fame or their own virtual world in which they are a star, its like Xfactor where you are both the judge and jury and your own publicist. Yes I've broken some of the "rules" on the internet but thats the joy of it you can have your say, the printing press was a great revolution and brought education to the masses, so now in its way the Internet brings enlightenment to the masses. Yes its brings lots of rubbish too, perhaps 50% rubbish and 50% interesting stuff, but I do think I'm right in saying it is as important as the printing press. If we didn't have the Internet we could still be back in the days of Monks in cells illuminating pages. Now if I could draw my book would be more sellable, a few drawings grab people so they turn the pages, cover art is important too. So if Banksy reads this how about doing some illustrations for me. As  payment they'll be one blank page in every book so you Banksy can draw to your hearts content, me I'll just enjoy the royalties.

Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again.   Michael in Freezing Birmingham 

I know your face

I know your face ©

By

Michael Casey

Somebody said he knew my face  today, he was looking at a photo of me on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com

But 100,000 people know my face, I worked at a 4star hotel for a few years so that many guests must have seen me.

I have   brothers and cousins, so I suppose my face could look familiar. My hair is distinctive, it went white, silver if you’re generous to me, it went silver 20 years before it should have. I’m “granddad” on the school run.

In songs a face changes things, “when I saw her face” the Monkees sang, I was small when their show was on tv.

“Take that look off your face” another song sings. For the Chinese its about not losing face, saving face is important.

Putting a face to a name is what we say when we meet after just phone or email contact.

Faces are important, we can see each other, we can see each other’s reactions, the look of love or the  sneer of contempt. Fear written on a face, tired and worn out, sad eyes, pained eyes all of this is on a face.

But what about a mother’s  face, love is written all over it, kindness and compassion and laughter too.

My wife took my mother’s photo to Shanghai to introduce her to my Chinese family, my mother had died a few years  previously but the photo showed them the depths of love, the oceans of love, all of this from the smile on her face.

A face is a door to the soul, a way to the heart, a sign showing just how much spirit of love is inside a person.

A face is a road map for love, so always be open, a hard uncaring, a hard look is self defeating, I’m strong, leave the face pulling alone, leave it for heavy weight boxers.

Me I hope I have a ready smile, a warm look just as it was given me by my parents and by my heritage.

His face reminds me of Santa, now that  is a face worth keeping. Smile Everybody.

Counting Money

Counting Money  ©

By Michael Casey

 

The King was in his counting house accounting out his money when down came a Blackbird…

We all remember this from school days, days getting further away from us all the time.

We all know how to save the pennies, save the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.

Make ends meet, what does that mean, touching your toes perhaps?

Scrimp and save, things are tight, does that mean you are fat? Or lack of money.

We all learn about money when we are small. We remember the sound of loose change in  dad’s pocket.

We were getting a treat because Dad was getting money out, we could hear the sound we were happy.

I’m old enough to remember real money, pounds shillings and pence money.

It was 12 pennies to the shilling and 20 shillings to a pound, and horses were sold in guinnies, if I’ve spelt it right.

Our money confused my American cousins, but it was fun explaining it to them. A halfpenny, a penny, a threepenny bit, a sixpence, a shilling, a florin, a half a crown, crowns I next saw, an orange 10 shillings note and then a pound note, and then other notes which I never got to see because I was too small.

Explain all that to a foreigner and they were totally lost, going to the moon was easier to understand.

I’m old enough to remember the joy of the Apollo landing, we were the world, everything was so exciting, Apollo and Ali not to mention the Beatles and real money.

A penny was made of copper and so was the half penny, the threepenny bit was six sided with a portcullis design on it, it went green with age. The sixpence was very slim slimmer that today’s 5 new pence. The shilling was thicker and perhaps bigger than today’s 10pence. It was real money and the sweets it bought were so much better than today’s sweets, or so it seems.

We knew about money because we had lodgers and they came to the back door to pay the rent, sometimes barely able to stand up, smoke and beer belching over us kids. Are you alright Mrs Casey? As they leant on the lintel for support, staggering away to the pub again.

The gas and electric meters had to be emptied and the money counted. We had a copper coloured metal jug which had the keys for the locks on the meters inside it, when dad had then we knew he’d be counting soon. He emptied the money on the kitchen table and started counting, piles of coins, shillings and florins.

Dad was like a Casino croupier counting and stacking the coins. Then when he’d finished he’d put the coins in little plastic bags, and after that in a small leather black bag. This was his lunch bag for work at the foundry, but when the gas or electric bill came it was the bag for the money. I was charged with walking down to the corner shop, there I’d present the money to Mr Singh who wouldn’t even weigh it, just throw it in his safe and peel off the money from his very large wad from his back pocket. Smiling we’d say our goodbyes both happy with the exchange. Who needs a bank when you have a corner shop?

There are more stories to tell, but I’ll save those for another day.

TTFN

Michael

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com

 

We Are Words

We have Words(c)

By

Michael Casey

Words have meaning words have power

Words are nothing but hot air

Words mean this words mean that

Words can set you free

Words can send you to jail

Words can be sprayed on a wall like cat's pee

Words can be printed on a press and sell millions

Words can be illuminated one at a time by Monks

Words are lies words are truth

Words can send you to war

Words can bring peace

We are Words

In the Beginning was the Word

But what is the last Word

If Music Be The Food Of Love

If Music Be The Food Of Love ©

By

Michael Casey

 

If Music Be The Food Of Love wrote Shakespeare, he was right, Music Is  The Food Of Love.    A boy can get up close and personal if he has the right mood music. A girl’s heart will melt if he has the right song on his hifi, or should I say IPod. Music touches us, it makes our hearts beat faster, just as a bit of flesh revealed makes our eyes dilate.

In the interests of balance should I reverse the sentence, a boy’s heart will melt, or a gay lover’s heart will melt etc. Let’s  take that as read, Love does Conquer All as my mum once encouraged me, and if you look at my family photo you’ll see IT DID.

Now Music has been a big thing in my life, since 1974 to be exact. How can I be so exact? Well my brother went off to be a coal miner then, that was his gap year before they were even invented. He did go off to a very good University the year after, the very best to be exact. So while he was a miner I was all alone in the homework room. To break the silence I listened to a radio while I did my homework. So love of music while I struggled with Latin homework, Latin is a form of torture but it does focus the mind, I’m pleased to say I got a B. Remember the Ablative Absolute is like, say, remember the Alamo.

Years later I used to go to a Folk club and see 3 bands every week. Later still I went to a Jazz club, mainly Trad Jazz, so I know a good or bad musician when I hear one, and I know a good voice when I hear one. If ever I develop cancer it will be because of all the years of smoke while I listened to music. The idea for the Jazz band and Jazz funeral in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker came from all those years of music.

I love my radio so much, it was and still is a constant companion. Though before I got my own house I also listened to plays on Radio 4, I can spot one from 100yards now, 20years of listening to Radio 4 before I took up a pen myself. But it’s music I want to tell you about. Music is a reservoir of emotions, past and present. Elvis brings back memories, why? My dad discovered Elvis in his 60s, there was a series of Elvis films on TV over Christmas so my dad watched them all and was impressed. If there was a good song on the radio dad would raise the volume and then lower it again when the other rubbish returned. Dad would be shaving in the kitchen because the bathroom was too cold and he’d come in the living room all lathered up and he’d say he/she has a good voice.

Me, I’m very eclectic in my tastes though Regaee does leave me cold, its washing machine music the same repeat motion/noise as a washing machine. Yes I know a whole avalanche of criticism will fall on me, but as Joanne used to say “we are all different” so let’s agree to disagree. What’s amazing nowadays is that lots of the music I remember is 40years old. I was young when I heard Eric Clapton for example because  of bigger brothers, so now it makes me realise I’m getting old, being called “grandpa” by teachers when I do the school run is one example. I tend to listen to Magic radio on my dab radio, because the music is good and they don’t prattle over the songs. But I still am amazed at the age of some of the music, but it’s the music that’s old, NOT ME, I still feel 20 in my head.

Today Lady Gaga is Queen, she has a great voice and is very pretty, ok very sexy. Her videos are fun and  she seems to know how to stay ahead of the music and other press. You get so many wanna bes who if you listen to their voice really are 2^nd rate, 1 hit wonders. I  suppose the test is, if you listen to your dab radio and hear a voice do you want to open your eyes and poke your head out from under the duvet. If the voice is good then you will because the dab text will tell you who is singing. On some of the  tv talent shows the voices are terrible, but when you hear a good voice you can  press record on your Sky+ remote. If my dad was still alive he’d raise the volume on the radio to listen to Lady Gaga, if he saw her  he might think she was a modern Dorethy Lamore in a Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road Movie. But Gaga is already making her own Road To movies and they really are a modern form of Art.  

Bring On The Tears

Bring On The Tears ©

By

Michael Casey

What makes you cry? I’ve just wiped a few tears away before I started talking to you. Today in 11th Nov 2010, which is Remembrance day, it is also my dad’s Birthday, he would have been 89 today.

My dad was a man of peace who spent his life in the heat of the furnace,

The District Iron and Steel, Brasshouse Lane was where he worked for 40 years. He came over to England in 1944, he was a blacksmith. My father was a gentle man a kind and caring man, hew spoilt me he always got me an extra ice cream when he was on holiday, my many siblings called me Pet because of it. 

If there was a film on tv and it was touching, my dad used to clear his throat and pretend he  was getting a cold, he move to the kitchen to dab away those tears. Or he’d put the kettle on. My dad was very very strong, after our mum had died he said she was strong, he said mum was as strong as a horse, the highest compliment a blacksmith can make. My mother died in her sleep next to her  husband of nearly 50year. My brother climbed into the bed and cradled her in his arms and tried CPR but she was already dead. Eight weeks later, the same brother heard a noise, it was our dad falling out of bed. My brother laid dad down on the bedroom floor flat and started CPR, he screamed to another brother, 999.

My brother saved our dad.

I wrote all of this down in Padre Pio and Me. The bottom line, I have a Shanghai wife and 2 bilingual daugthers all because of my brother and Padre Pio too.

When we look at an object we have an association too, an object is not just an object its an association too.  The electrical socket for my washing machine is there because my dad put it there, it doesn’t mean I cry every time I do the laundry, but it does mean I smile. I have an old barn chair with the back broken off, my mum  used to stand on it when she washed the outdoor windows, its been in my house nearly a quarter of a century. This reminds me of my mum. In fact I sat on that chair with the old typewriter balanced on a red stool when I wrote my comic novel 

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I can even  remember when and where we bought that stool, it was 1973. Simple objects are full of memories and meaning. In Citizen Cane it was Rosebud the sledge  that meant so much when Cane died.

I had a pair of Rosary beads but I felt they were too gaudy, so I gave them to my mum. No doubt she used them well, she really knew how to pray. That may have been 15 to 20 years ago, now she’s gone, but my  brother said he had a spare set of Rosary bead would I like them. So he have them to me, he said they belonged to our mum, and yes they were the very same pair. So love and “objects” had performed a circle. My sister’s house has white lillies scattered all about her front garden, they only appeared after our mum had died. Mum had sneaked up to my sister’s house and planted them with Love. So after she was gone there appeared a reminder of her and her Love.

I have a speaker in the corner of my living room, my brother used to play Cream music on it via a reel to reel tape recorder. So that too has an association. I did in fact meet Eric Clapton when I was working in a 4star hotel, so that in a way was a circle.

There are many things and many lives that touch and connect with one another, such as the lolly pop lady when you do the school run, or the nice dog tied up outside a school waiting for the kids to  finish school.

There are grand gestures too, such as in My Big Fat Greek Wedding the dad buys his daughter a house, right next door to his own. All this is love in many many forms and I’ve just touched the surface. I can remember my mum crying her eyes out over a broken wooden coat hanger, why?

Because her mother had given it to her in 1944 when she had left Kerry for England. Many things Bring On The Tears, but they are tears of Love.

*******

well the 4 photos show the 4 of us, our family