Clear Speech

Clear Speech ©

By

Michael Casey

I was having a read on the internet as is my habit, I came across a piece that made me think, what pompous writing. Why don’t people write clearly, say what they want to say so people can understand. It seems to me that there is a subculture, of so called cultured people who just cannot write plain English. I hope I’ve got their attention now, maybe they’ll read a bit more and change their ways.

Why do governments and local authorities, not to mention big corporations use rubbish language. I call it rubbish deliberately, because if people cannot easily understand it, then it should be in the trash along with soggy teabags and half eaten pizza. Language is for communication!

Why do some people think they should write “posh”, use big words they don’t really understand themselves to baffle people. Is it to prove they went to college for 4 years, and learnt nothing. To prove they own a dictionary, to justify their existent, their pay grade and their “value”. Plain English beats their abuse of language any time.

Adjectives are inserted to bolster the company view, or the council’s view, it’s not a park, it’s the “people’s” park. People are “proud” to be part of this district. People  see through it immediately, though the “bosses” think they are so special and really the people are so lucky to have them in charge.

In Dickens’ time there was a great unwashed people, clever people existed who used long words and knew what they meant. Dickens wrote about the people’s situation in life and you can say he was a force for good. What about today’s world?

Language is for communication, so that as many people as possible can understand. If the words on the page or broadcast baffle people then they are the wrong words. Other words, simpler words should be used, and if they are not, why not? Is it to keep the PR or the HR people employed?

I’ve worked in a variety of places, in one the boss was so infuriated he had signs put up saying “For God’s sake Communicate” What does this tell us? It proves there was a problem, or at least the boss thought so.

You can go to church or wherever you pray, though less that 10% do, and if the priest or minister or leader speaks and you cannot understand, what should you do? You should tell him or her, and if you still cannot understand, leave.

Business has feedback forms, or go online and tell us your thoughts, and we do because we want to win a prize. A good business reads those forms and acts on them, a bad business goes out of business.

Words are like sweets to me and I hope to you, if I as a writer make you scratch your head you’ll soon stop reading. If I tell you a story that’s easy to digest and amuses you too what will you do? I hope you’ll say Michael Casey is worth reading, you like the style, and you like the words because he’s not trying to show off. I’m not saying write for 5 year olds, I am saying write clearly and communicate. 

Music Moves

Music Moves©

By

Michael Casey

Music moves us, music evokes a mood, music reminds us of this or that. That was the song playing on the radio when we first met, that was the song on the jukebox when I turned around and saw her face. When I saw her face, her hair falling down onto her shoulders, or her hair tied back, whatever way it was it overpowered me. She defeated me, I was hers though she did not know it, yet.

The crew cut he had was so bad that I laughed at him, his ears stuck out too much, but the way his eyes sparkled, I knew I was his, but he did not know it, yet.

Music adds the sparks to any romance, it’s the spark of life itself. Maybe the drumming of bones from a buffalo in the caveman’s cave were the start of music, the beat, the heart beat that is music.

As I talk to you I’m listening to some old Folk music, Harvey Andrews is the singer/songwriter. His music evokes a quiet sense within me, it reminds me of a period in my life when I went to a folk club to listen and drink to music.  Thoughtful interesting music, where words are paramount.

Other music brings out other moods. I have loaded up my music to my computer so I have my own private juke box if you like, I have a small hi-fi on bookcase behind too. We have a piano squeezed into the room as well, so sometimes my daughters are on the piano while I talk to you.

So music from whatever source can influence what I’m writing, a faster or slower pace of writing and subject matter. I’ve just switched to Gerry Rafferty, the entire album is really great. Perhaps my typing speed will increase now. It says it was produced in 1978, I was 20 then, working in computers.

Music is the marker in History, when we were 17, when we were 21, this song was in the charts, that song was in the charts. News may come and go, but Music is Eternal, each Age of Man is marked, signposted, by music. Hippies with all their hair was matched by this music or that music. The music of our times reflects the attitudes we had at this time or that.

Music can fix a point in time, in history itself. Great music always sounds great, it never fades, it really is part of our DNA. Though some sounds can be forgotten, and they deserve to be, we have one hit wonders as well. Other songs, great songs and sounds we just want to close our eyes and bring back the memories into our mind.

Eric Clapton is a part of my life, my brothers had a wall of sound while they studied. 45 years ago first one brother then another, had a reel to reel tape recorder and a speaker blasting out music. I still have the speaker. My brothers did get into the 2 best universities in the world. As for me 30 years later I met Eric Clapton when I was a concierge, I almost carried his bag, but I did make him laugh.

So Eric’s music evokes a mood, a memory in my life, The Monkees reminds me of my youth too, and I have their music as well. Happy music and happy times, Ali, Moon Landings, this was music and the 60s, now we have Miley Cyrus who has a great voice but cannot afford to buy any clothes.

Move to the 1970s and for me Jean Michel  Jarre was so novel, so now when I play his music I think how it could be used as mood music in my novels. Film music is so important, it catches the mood of a film, it is the icing on the cake. Though some may say it is the eggs that bind the cake, the film together.

Music videos are a new thing, I can remember when MTV etc did not exist, UTube was not invented either. So music videos evoke a mood, a theme. Lady Gaga’s can be very very funny. But music has morphed into video/film. So it’s a first cousin to pure music itself.

The Old Grey Whistle Test was a music show on tv, the title comes from the fact do people whistle a song after hearing it. Do you hum along to the song, or tap the steering wheel while in traffic. Do you smile and turn the volume up, if you do then the music has reached your heart.

Music is for all occasions, it soothes the savage beast, it stills a beating heart, it warms against the Winter chill. And when Spring comes, the birds themselves make music, birds rejoice with their songs. So let all of us follow their example, for we have music in us all.

Feuding Photos

Feuding Photos©

By Michael Casey

Feuding Photos, is when you change your photo on Facebook or Linkedin in an attempt to outdo a friend or neighbour. Christmas tree light envy leads to bigger and better lights as you try to outdo your neighbour. Tackier and Tackier the other neighbours say. Then the neighbourhood is plunged into darkness.

As for photo envy, you wear a clown's hat, then your friend he wears a cowboy hat, it’s like a scene from Village people. More and more photo  opportunities and changes. Then you dare your friend to post a nude photo of himself, you know he'll accept the dare as he thinks you'll do the same, a double dare. Post for a minute then delete it. But it’s a trap.

Then you cut and paste the photo everywhere on the net. But your friend has a gun, so you have to leave town fast. The moral of the story, envy is one of the Seven Deadly Sins for good reason! ****************************

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me posing as a writer

Moving Pictures

Moving Pictures ©

By Michael Casey

We watched Seven Pounds on tv last night, it got me thinking about moving pictures. The movies, the flicks, because the pictures moved, or flickering when they were first invented, they always touch our hearts. Or they should if they are any good, people were scared when a car or a train was speeding towards them, now we have 3D to scare us.

But what makes a moving picture? If you can connect with the story then it will have more power. In the story there is a hospice with an old lady in it, this reminded me of my dad in the old people’s home, it’s nearly 12 years since dad died. So that obviously made me connect more to this story.

Do writers and producers have a list or a menu, with a pick list of characters to make the story more attractive. The Julian Assange film flopped, they had a great actor, the Sherlock one, and the story was “tarted” up, freedom of press etc. But in the end it failed, maybe because it was about a selfish, arrogant person. So the audience had no sympathy for him.

Disney does have a pick list, if you have young kids in your family, you have to endure Disney. Yes sometimes it is good, very good. But laughter tracks on shows, this really is the pits, you want to throw things at the tv. Then the too sickly sweet aspects and characters. If that was your child, you would have him adopted. So this is moving to hate, instead of love.

Style in a film makes such a big difference, as does the look, is it big and bright with lots of light, or the washed out look. Sometimes just from the credits you know the film will move you, to switch it off. Big thick silver credits, like 1970s glam rock, is a switch off.

So it’s the story which is king, the Shawshank Redemption is a great film because we feel for the hero, the style and the look and the feel all grab us. Robin Hood the Alan Rickman version, again this moved as well as entertained, AR did steal the film too.

So we can go through the list of our favourite films, I can remember Alan a guy I worked with admitting he cried when he saw ET. So Hope and Love must be in the film if it is to touch us. Sex and Violence does sell films and computer games for that matter. However if it’s a just a series of sex and violent bits the film will soon be forgotten, and it will sink.

If a mother just beats her child, the child will not love her. There has to be an X factor to the film, stars don’t make films, stories do. The Pianist is a great film because it’s about real people, its dramatic and you want the pianist to live. You really feel for him. When we saw it we didn’t know who the actor was, we connected to him and the situation, and not just because our daughters were learning piano. We wanted him to live, contrast the Julian Assange film, do we care about Julian, no. And nor does anybody else, hence the film flopped.

It’s hard to know what will finally work, they have test screenings, and even recut films in an attempt to save the producer’s money. On tv years ago Eastenders was shot in gloom, for atmosphere, but if you cannot see a thing how can you enjoy a show. Theatre has fallen into that trap too, I’m not saying everything should be lit like Fox News, but all the toolkit has to be used to make the film work.

Knowing your audience, and not being arrogant to think they will follow anything you put on the screen is important. A conflict and a clash, and a fight and an escape all make for good cinema. But everything starts with a writer for it’s us, who write moving pictures.

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Hair

Hair ©

By

Michael Casey

I had my hair cut yesterday, I was turning into an Old English Sheepdog, so I had it cut. My wife cuts my hair, she used to use just scissors, but then we invested £10 for electric clippers. A haircut is 10quid in most barbers, which is expensive. So the wife does the honours, she is very good. She also cuts the girls’ hair too.

When she used scissors I want told to sit on a chair in the yard, then she’s poke and prod me, just like a sheep having its annual shearing. She’d laugh as she sheared me, pulling my left ear then my right ear, so I’d be in the right position. I’d grumble and watch as the snow fell. The snow being the colour of my hair, but at least my hair is thick and soft. I tell her we should use my hair as stuffing for pillows.

My daughters would come out and tell me I have a bald patch appearing, so I’m some sort of street theatre, or like a sinner in the stocks. Why don’t they invite the neighbours to come and throw cabbage at me. And still the snow falls, no black or brown left, I am Snow White. Maybe that’s why I’m called Granddad when I do the school run.

Finally with a slap here and a slap there, all in aid of getting rid of stray hairs sticking to my body, I am told to stand up and shake myself in the garden, just like a wet dog.  My barber is satisfied with her work, then she demands £10.

Once we had the clippers I was allowed to have my haircut inside, in the warmth of our bathroom. Though sitting on the toilet for 30 mins is not comfortable, again I am prodded and poked and slapped,  like a bullying flower arranger, the flowers would have to be made of steel to survive, but dad was a blacksmith, so I am forged of steel.

Laughing as she works my wife chuckles as she cuts my hair, like a demon catching souls and sending them to hell. The snow continues to fall, I am slapped again, the snow must not block her view of her work. Turn this way, turn that way I am ordered. It feels like regimented foreplay, maybe this is how it’s done in North Korea. I should add my wife wears a bright red Korea Food apron every day, it’s her housefrau look. So I laugh a lot. When she leaves home, she then looks like a model, but not while cutting my hair.

She finishes and tells me I look like Bruce Willis, only I don’t have a vest, just a woolly jumper, with snow stuck to it. So she beats me again, to get the snow, my hair off the jumper. I tell her I’ll keep her another week for her barber skills. And so the romance goes on, she shouts after me to buy some broccoli as a reward for all her hard work. So I buy cabbage instead, men don’t know what vegetables look like, I am Bruce Willis after all. 

   

 this is and old photo, 8 years ago outside Symphony Hall Birmingham 

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Data Mining or How to create a myth

Data Mining or how to create a myth ©

By Michael Casey

I was on LinkedIn, just annoying folks when I read a piece about data mining. Basically everybody does it. Hotmail had a campaign saying they were whiter than white and Google were the nasty party. Funny how I get junk mails from USA when I’m in the UK, and yes they are from Hotmail, though it’s called Outlook nowadays.

When I was on FB  I shared a joke about mispronunciation with a friend, then he was swamped with ads regarding our joke. So Big Brother is everywhere, has anybody actually read the book 1984, I did at school nearly 40 years ago. The film version with Richard Burton is very good too.

Now we all know about the NSA being naughty, but betraying your own country is far naughtier. So I was wondering how to counter all this spying. I do have a mobile but I use it to listen to the radio in bed. The tabloids won’t catch me that way. Though I’m sure in the end I’ll have my 15mins of fame, or is it torture?

So let’s start some misinformation. Tomorrow 7^th Jan 2014, a Tuesday, and every Tuesday I shall go bowling with Obama, just me and Obama, and 150 secret service. It’s one hell of a party and I have to teach Obama how to bowl. The secret service take bets on the side, and will buy Obama a new Jorg Gray watch if ever he beats me.

So if we feed this story into the Internet how long before it’s on MSN News, or Fox. I also play Monopoly with Joe Biden, after I finish beating Obama at bowling. We use the English Monopoly as its more fun. I have promised Joe a role in my next novel. Joe will get to visit Old Forge and Singing Anvil and the pub The Trader.

So if we feed this in with NSA, the SEO people will really love it. So how do myths start?  By bad reporting, and lazy reporting. Or is this an attempt at brazen self-publicity?  It’s copying exactly what 

politicians do.

See you all on the front page of the National Enquirer, or wrapped up in the chips.