I’ve just had my first zoom meeting with Paul Higgs and Joanna Moncrieff from UCL. It was a poor substitute for our weekly coffees on Wednesdays in Tottenham Court Road but very welcome nonetheless. I even coped with the technology, having resolutely refused to engage in academic events via zoom for the past year or… Read More »
Which Hat? Usually when I embark on life’s adventures I leave the house hatless and optimistic; Only when it’s shivering cold or raining Above a parsimonious drizzle do I reach For a hat sitting patiently by the door. But which hat is it to be? There are five pegs and six… Read More »
I have ruminated episodically on the trivial issue of whether or not I can claim to be a writer. My provisional conclusion has been that I am an (ex)university teacher primarily, which has of course involved quite a bit of writing, but that I cannot be said to have made my living as a writer.… Read More »
When to Shut Up? Imagine an off-the-cuff conversation With an acquaintance, not a friend, So it’s tricky to gauge the rules. She tells you she prays for her family, For friends, for peace in faraway places. Sceptical, you challenge this faith That prayer can interrupt the flow Of events and act as… Read More »
You Can Feel Uneasy Here we are, sitting in the pub Of a Friday evening, A friendly cluster of garnered chairs, One round in and more to follow; The chatter is split, a couple here, A trio there, some just listening in. Then the topic changes: ‘That Corbyn, thank God he’s gone!’ A… Read More »
The first thing to be said about the origins of rugby is that there is no concrete evidence that they lie with William Ellis’ handling of the ball at Rugby School in 1823. Ex-pupil Matthew Bloxxam’s claim that this was the case has invariably defied verification (not that this altogether deterred Rugby School, which in… Read More »
Along by the Mole When the rains come and the waters Of the Mole rise up to flood the land There’s an eerie beauty about the place; But the downpours have gone now, And only the squelch of sodden mud Reminds us of the river’s ambition. The weed-edged path we take winds Slowly… Read More »
Any description of the natural, life or social worlds we inhabit, independently of its putative level of sophistication, presumes an element of theory. This is because none of us starts with a blank slate, but rather draws on a symbolic framework handed down and absorbed as if by osmosis from previous generations, lay or expert.… Read More »
Rhymes Poems don’t have to rhyme, If you ask me it’s a matter of time: When you’re not really stressing Because nothing is pressing Then, thesaurus to hand, You invariably land, If fatigued and slow On a fitting bon mot. The Aegean A night flight to Rhodes Town, Thence to Lindos… Read More »
I have often pondered on what I have, or more to the point haven’t, contributed to the socialist movement. My record of activism is certainly parsimonious compared with others I know. I once blogged on what I see as an elective affinity between sociology, education and socialism, at the back of my mind a sense… Read More »