Yesterday was reportedly the hottest day this year in all sorts of places around the UK. We waited until early evening to go for a stroll round the village: an after-dinner stroll is supposed to be good for your digestion. Today is cooler, probably more pleasant to be out and about in. They seem to be having cooler weather for the Tour de France today as well: stage nine from Chinon to Châteauroux. In the previous stages they seem to have had a lot of nasty crashes. The professional cyclists’ ability to pick themselves up, scratched and bruised, and get back on their bikes is quite phenomenal.
People are being arrested for publicly supporting Palestine Action: 42 … 46 … more than 70 … accounts of numbers arrested vary. Maybe if enough people are arrested the powers that be will rethink the whole matter. In the meantime, here’s a poem from Michael Rosen:-
Freedom has no warning lights
when it slips away
it doesn’t flash red.
When they start saying you can’t
speak your mind
and you weren’t doing harm
that’s it again, slipping away
but it’s not flashing red
When they start to talk of how
some people are born bad
that’s freedom slipping away
but it’s not flashing red
When they say you’re the wrong kind of person
to go to school
that’s it, slipping away
but it’s not flashing red.
When they say that you can’t work here
you’ve got the wrong face
sure enough, that’s it, slipping away
and it’s not flashing red.
When they start locking people up
without giving them a fair hearing
there it goes, slipping away
but it’s not flashing red.
When people start disappearing
and they don’t come back
that really is it, slipping away
but it’s not flashing red.
freedom has no warning lights
when it slips away
it doesn’t flash red.
[A poem I wrote for the projects run by Professor Helen Weinstein and History Works TV for our work with school students on refugees. Michael Rosen.]
And here’s another poem, taken from a social media post, the poster having “borrowed”it from elsewhere. So I don’t know who wrote it but it’s clearly a reworking of Martin Niemoller’s post-WWII poem. Here’s one version of his poem:
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
Here’s the 21st century update:
First they came for the ordinary Palestinian civilians
The men, the women, the children, the babies and even the preborn in their incubators and I did not speak out—because I was not Palestinian
Then they came for the Medical Professionals, the life savers
The surgeons, the doctors, the nurses, the paramedics and I did not speak out—because I was not a Medical Professional
Then they came for the Press
The journalists, the reporters, the camera operators, the truth tellers and I did not speak out—because I was not a member of the Press
Then they came for the First Responders
The ambulance drivers, the rescueworkers, the firemen, and I did not speak out-- because I was not a First Responder
Then they came for the Aid Workers
Those who were distributing food and water and medicine and tents and essential supplies. They murdered the starving people queuing for food and I and I did not speak out -- because I was not an Aid Worker
Then they came for the Educators, Artists and Intellectuals
The professors and the teachers, the writers, the poets, the painters, who spoke about the horror, the cruelty, the injustice and I did not speak out—because I was not an Educator, Artist or Intellectual
Then the Police around the world came for the Protesters, they beat them, arrested them and jailed them for protesting a genocide and I did not speak out—because I was not a Protester
Finally they came for the rest of us and there was nobody left to speak out.
Free Palestine 🇵🇸
Incidentally, I read that the Unite union is rescinding Angela Rayner’s membership. She says she already left the union but this expulsion is a bit more public. We’ve come to a pretty pass when Labour Party politician is kicked out of a union!
For some reason I was reading about “hag stones”, stones large or small which have a naturally formed hole in them. Almost all countries seem to have legends associated with them, understandably as they do look as though they might have magical qualities. Here’s one for the UK:
“In the seaside town Hastings there is a local legend that the town is under an enchantment known as Crowley's Curse, said to have been conjured by Aleister Crowley* who lived in Hastings at the end of his life. The curse compels anyone who has lived in Hastings to always return, no matter how far away they move, or for how long. The curse can only be broken by taking a stone with a hole running through it from Hastings beach.”
*Aleister Crowley (born Edward Alexander Crowley, 12 October 1875 – 1 December 1947) was an English occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, novelist, mountaineer, and painter. He obviously had too much time onbis hands as he had so many hobbies and occupations! My note!) He founded the religion of Thelema, identifying himself as the prophet entrusted with guiding humanity into the Æon of Horus in the early 20th century. A prolific writer, he published widely over the course of his life.
There you go!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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