Its not a War on Terror it’s a War on Ideas.

Last Friday’s attack on Paris was an unbelievable act of evil that can only have been carried out by truly monstrous beings, not human beings. It seems to have moved debates along and Western governments rhetoric seems to be different and even once enemies are starting to talk the old ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend’ language. Cities across the free world are talking about how it could have been them, and thankfully so far we’re not talking about more follow up atrocities. Paris is a city that has paid a heavy toll this year for its free and diverse society in the face of such wickedness. We’re all in the firing line these days without question and together we mourn for Paris; the victims and their families and just hope that such a horror is not repeated anywhere on Earth.

But the fact of the matter is it probably will be.

These attacks of last Friday have drawn clear lines that are designed to scare us and let us know we are the enemy. They are also designed to sow the seeds of division and hate. The terrorists hope and pray that communities all over the World turn on innocent pockets of Muslims and blame them so that otherwise secular people are driven towards their warped ideas about the world and its order, but that has so far not been the case. And I hope it never happens. And I doubt it will either.

People are far too intelligent, on the whole, we’re too well informed and generally most people don’t care about what you are, and so the idea the walls of our great free system will come tumbling down because a dozen and a half maniacs with automatic weapons can attack innocent young people, who’s opinions on the world as it stands with all of its struggles were not known, can be gunned down callously and in cold blood in the name of a warped idea that had labelled them as the enemy by virtue of just being free French people. It’s ridiculous at best and utterly retarded evil at its worst.

We live in a world of ideas and it’s just an idea that drives this evil. If they cannot divide us, we are strong. They can attack like this from time to time, but they can never, ever defeat us, as long as we are united and behave like civilised human beings.

It’s the idea, planted like a seed, in the mind of someone disillusioned with the world somehow; maybe they’ve suffered, maybe they’ve struggled, and likely they are vulnerable and need guidance; that drives them towards this terrible darkness in the world. Its despair that feeds the monster and the idea that makes it grow and spread. That is why we should never ever turn on each other or look at someone and judge them because of who they are, that is why civilised people will win the war of ideas.

Because ultimately secularism and the idea of peace, fairness, freedom and equality that is shared by people with a true heart in their chest and a questioning brain in their heads will always defeat anger and self righteousness conducted in the name of nothing more than a warped perception of a faith by individuals that know so little about its doctrine and teachings they’d fail a GSCE exam on it.

It’s just a shame that as we move together from this as a people, more innocent people will suffer and more war will happen and as a consequence it will inevitably feed the monster again.

I just hope one day soon the light will go off in the minds of everyone. We don’t all have to be the same colour, creed, nationality or faith, we don’t always have to agree and get along, but we also have no right to force our ideas onto others at the barrel of a gun. We disagree because we are human and we all see the world differently.

There is another way if you want it.

Theocracy, communism, capitalism have all had a chance and we have the results in. It’s a late kick off at Peace Vs Ideas and that’s a result we need to compare and contrast with the others. It’s about time we gave peace a chance to kick off.

If you’ve read this far, you must be with me.


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Publish and be damned.

Well it’s taken me two and a half years to write but now, hopefully, I’m into the last week or two ahead of the publication of the history of Bilston Town football club. It’s been a long and hard slog, but very enjoyable indeed. Although now the book is done and the editing is underway, details that I’d not considered like the cover design and then the marketing has to be done. But hopefully they are just small details that I can cobble together in a reasonable time frame.

What has amazed me is that I’ve managed to do it at all. I’ve learned so much about what can be achieved if you put your mind to something, make a plan and just work hard at it. The research was brutal, it lasted for 17 months, and at times I felt like it would never end or I would never get it done. But I did and after ten months of writing up the research I’m starting to realise all of the late nights, the worrying and the neglect of my social life has been worth it.

A book will at least exist after all of this and that’s what the journey has all been about. I’m sure some people will love it and some won’t. I already know some people will praise it and some people will criticise it, but its part of the territory and I don’t really listen to praise or ridicule anyway. Only I know what it’s taken to produce, it’s been my journey, with a lot of help and advice and support.

And now part of me is glad and part of me is sad. Glad it’s drawing to an end and sad it’s drawing to an end. I think that’s what they call ambivalence aint it?

What I need to do now if work out what I’m going to do with the time I have on my hands without this project, now I’m used to only 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night. Maybe it’s time to start blogging properly again.

Oh well until next time, take care each!


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When September Ends.

The clock is rushing towards the last quarter of the year again. Is it me or does it seem to be ‘the days are getting shorter, the days are long and dark, the summer’s ages away’ more than it’s ‘spring time!’ I’m sure Stephen Hawking could explain some clever time dilation theory that would make sense of it all but until I hear it or read it I’m firmly of the belief that time isn’t constant. It’s faster, or we get less of it when we want it; then we have a surplus of time running very slowly when the rain is falling and all we have to look forward to is shite TV, traffic that seems to get worse with low air pressure and snowmen and Santa teddies at the tills in the supermarket – which I’ve already spotted in Morrisons, you stay classy Mozzas!

“Excuse me I’m looking for Halloween costumes and fireworks?”

 “Yes sir, they are in aisle seven next to the reindeer statuettes, the window de-icer, the 2016 calendars and the Easter eggs.”

But to keep us happy our corporate overlords and media capitalists have managed to drag together enough entertainment to keep us from doing a Captain Oates this wintertime, more of the same old brown starfish burps. Downton Abbey, X-Factor (which is actually better scripted as a piece of fiction than Downton), Strictly Come Dancing, Doctor Who, sprinkled of course with over emphasis of such important sports such as the Rugby World Cup and some tennis bollocks that Britain hasn’t qualified for, for seven hundred years but now we have, IT’S THE MOST BESTEST, GREATEST AND IMPORTANT THING – EVER. Especially to people who never talk about tennis but now have encyclopaedic knowledge about everything from the history of rackets to Andy Murrays mums tits. Oh the Christmas countdown has begun with these shows, shows that only exist to force the masses out of the shops so they can close on time with minimal fuss. It’s easier to con the masses into thinking they need to run home to watch this pap, than tell them they simply have to stop shopping and go home, WE’RE CLOSED!

But what is really going on is the monetisation of the season that is Xmas which when I was a kid was a week maybe two when you put up a tree, wrote a list for Santa and then checked the TV Quick (the special two week edition) for what films you wanted to watch on all four of the channels we had back then, it was a simpler time, it was a better time.

If like me, you’re a common, working class, hoody wearing, drinking, poor, scumbag, liberal ass-hole who dares to want a broken leg fixed at the countries cost at a hospital even though you’ve already paid for it, and have a guaranteed 40 hour working week then the idea of spreading the cost of Xmas over many months is actually what we kinda peeps have to do to get by and even when the day itself arrives we’ll have forgotten something that we really wanted to make Xmas just right – like mint sauce or a turkey; or you, as I often do, might look at what you have and think, ‘I wish I was rich, its taken me 3 months to have a Xmas this destitute’ – so I’m certainly not having a go at you with my rant here.

My ultimate quarry is those other more fortunate people, who take the nod from the supermarkets in late September to start consuming and buying and purchasing, and then consuming some more, those assholes who go on and on and on about it, and how much they’ve spent and how much they’ve got left to spend – and then spend you do, again and again and again and more and more and more, buying a gift for someone now and then buying them a better one later and then just having a gift going begging and then wrapping it with little thought for someone you’d forgotten because you never knew your mate Cindy had a new fella so he can have ‘that piece of shit’ that was just right back then for Darla but was overlooked when the even bigger luminous SALE sign caught your eye and you had to just indulge in another blue cross event at Debenhams. Spend, spend, spend. Consuming for the sake of it because it’s what you think people should do, no, HAVE TO DO at this time of year. 90 days of endless shopping and stressing and EVEN MORE shopping and then Costa for a shitty-fucky-cock-a-mocha chino with fluffy marshmallows and sprinkles of YOUR JOYLESS LIFE in seven different flavours of cocoa.

I fucking hate it. Christmas has had the joy ripped out of it and the fact a furry Snowman in a supermarket made me write this blog post in September underscores that fact.

But assholes, keep consuming, keep feeling the need to spend what you don’t have on shit you don’t need and keep buying gifts for people you never see or speak to unless tinsel is clogging the vacuum and the kids are laugh-drooling Quality Street and Hersheys all over a sofa that you barely let people look at, let alone sit on most of the year, cus – it’s Xmas! Give the kids a break until the Vanish and Fabreze is 2 for 1 in January.

When September ends the insanity begins, but when will we all wake up and realise that people are more important than presents? Gimme my loved ones, a bottle of brandy and some good rocking tunes. That’s all I want. That shits achievable all year round. Why wait for this corporate cockfest to force us to do something nice for people we love, rather than worry about people we don’t see or like much of the time? We could just wait until we break up from work and just do what we want, when we want, for a fortnight with the people we love.

Now that’s Christmas, you can shove your sleigh bells and ho, ho, ho’s up your arse for me.

The clock is ticking, the silly season is upon us, just wait until September ends.


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Writing isn’t hard, I’m doing it write, I mean, right now.

But I’ve noticed, especially online there are two kinds of writers.

There are writers.

And there are people who are in love with the idea of being a writer.

Writers. Well they write stuff.

They don’t talk about it.

Writers. Read stuff.

Not gloss over their own words ignoring other writers.

Writers. Write when they earn nothing, they keep writing, because they like writing.

They don’t dream of the big pay day that’ll happen when they start writing but for now, something’s come up.

Writers. Enjoy writing. It’s a pastime, a hobby, something fun, something they feel the need to do because it’s in them. Like some people play the guitar or go fishing.

They don’t sit down for five minutes every two months and force out worthless pap and then consider themselves a writer. ‘This novel is my pay day, 300 words every 8 weeks means I should be getting published and rich in time for retirement, sweet!’

Writers. They see other writers as kindred spirits.

Not enemies or people taking a slice of the pie that is rightfully theirs.

Writers. They don’t expect success but embrace it when the dice land sixes up.

They don’t curse the dice every time they get a two/five. If you roll the dice often you will get sixes up eventually, but you’ve gotta roll those dice more than once a year.

Writers. They know, almost stupid to say, that if you don’t write you won’t have anything at the end of your journey to read.

Rather than talk about the novel that they’ve tried to write before and is in them but just won’t come out. Get some WordLax man!

Oh yeah…

Writers. They edit. Once they’ve written the first draft they edit, they might re-write and then edit but its all fun cus it’s still writing.

Rather than tapping out a few thousand words, off the bat, and expecting it to sound like Shakespeare rather than reading like shit. (re-write and edit folks!)

Well, that’s me for tonight, I’m off to write for fun, and I can do that shit drunk. It’s the only way for me.



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A good summer to start watching cricket.

Most of my life I have scoffed at cricket. I’ve considered it a complete waste of time. “What is the point of a game that lasts 5 days and you are only likely to get tickets for one of them?” I would wonder. It’s not even a ticketing situation where you can sensibly try and buy tickets for the 5th day as the whole thing could be over on day 3, just like it is today.urn

But cricket, once you take a few moments of your time to understand the game, and then uncover a whole vast of statistics and possible outcomes to any given moment during those five days then it really is an interesting and (I can’t believe I’m saying this) exciting sport.

Given today’s 4th test ashes win against Australia in what amounts to a bit over two days, there were still moments of uncertainly. Yesterday afternoon when Australia came in to bat for their 2nd innings and started to notch the runs all of the joy from the previous days dumping of Australia all out before lunch seemed to fall away. And I suppose that is the joy of the game. Even when it looks great, nothing is certain. When you win a test match, you really have won it. England have still had to work hard (although they were essentially in complete control) to take the 4th test and in winning it by an innings they have earned back the Ashes urn that was taken from them so emphatically in Australia in November 2013.

A cricket expert I certainly am not, but it’s great to have a new sport, that I can now understand and appreciate in my arsenal. It’s certainly something to fill those long football-less months during the summer.

Well done England on winning back The Ashes.


Photograph: Nick Potts/PA



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Bilston 2015 Pre-Season Friendly Fixtures.

Remember, fixtures are subject to change. Check games are still going on ahead of travelling to matches.


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