Henry VIII is often popularly viewed as a lovable rogue, a champion of wine, women and song. In fact he was a monster, who set a precedent for the sort of self centred greedy bastards who have been running this country ever since. Marrying 6 times, he pioneered a complete disregard for the sanctity of marriage.

Central to his Reformation manoeuvres was the dissolution of the monasteries, who until then had provided for the impoverished in the form of land for them to cultivate and live on. This land was taken away and given to his cronies, creating a new landed gentry beholden to the crown. It is claimed that a fifth of England’s landed wealth was redistributed in this way. Suddenly there were tens of thousands of dispossessed poor with nowhere to go, and no means of support.

Henry had created a new underclass. This alienated much of the population outside London and led to a northern uprising, the Pilgrimage of Grace comprising some 30,000 rebels. Their leader Robert Aske was arrested, charged with treason, and executed along with some 200 of the rebels. This put an end to the disturbances.

How was such a fiend allowed to wield such absolute power? To this day the English are accomplished at murmuring and complaining, but have little enthusiasm for revolutionary action. So the prevailing bullies go about their nasty business, encouraging the population to drink up and forget about it. Cheers mate…..

Originating post: remembering St John Fisher and the monstrous King Henry VIII

My family moved to Cambridge in 1967, the summer of love(!). At seventeen and fresh out of boarding school into a student town full of pubs, my drinking career took off without a hitch. For the next several years, despite passionate affairs with most of the available recreational drugs, drink remained the undisputed protagonist in my hedonistic heart.

I moved to London, then the streets of Paris, where hours of playing music every day began in earnest. Still a drink of some kind was never far away. Life’s essentials were reduced to a minimum as all surplus funds were offered up at the altar of Bacchus. Fortified with ‘Dutch courage’, I embarked on one adventure after another throughout my 20s. Having lived to tell the tale, I cannot honestly say I regret my alcoholic exuberance. Without the booze, I may never summoned up the nerve to do many of the things I did.

Nonetheless, as I turned 30, though my lifestyle barely skipped a beat, I began to suspect that my tireless enthusiasm for intoxication was perhaps a little misguided. So I began to take short breaks from the drink. At first this was a miserable business. So ingrained in my psyche was the daily intake of something alcoholic, that the lack of it seemed a pointless denial of my essential nature. Despite moments of clarity, usually early in the morning, these brief periods of sobriety achieved nothing.

In 1982 I moved to New York, and a year later my twin sons were born. By this time I had managed once to stay dry for 6 months. During this period, for the first time I had glimpses of a life beyond or without alcohol. I could begrudgingly accept that I was a nicer person, less prone to anger, and less self centred. I also saw that I was far more able to rise to the challenges of improving as a musician, of doing my job more effectively. I realised that I was never going to write anything of lasting value under the influence of alcohol. And perhaps most of all, I could see that whatever parenting skills I could muster were bound to be handicapped by booze. Still I found it very difficult to sustain, particularly in the late night bars and clubs my line of work took me to. So I began drinking again, with a vengeance.

This pattern established itself for the next 20 years or so. I would give up for up to 6 months, then fall off the wagon with a bang. Feast or famine. Finally in late 1997 I had to admit to myself that what was left of my brain was turning to mush thanks to beer and its pals. In early 1998 I stopped and didn’t touch a drop for three and a half years. For the first year or so I smoked pot nearly every day. Eventually I had to concede that I had just substituted one drug for another. Also, I was not helping myself smoking every day, especially as a singer. So I stopped that too.

This was new territory. As the months went by, I barely thought about drinking any more. My brain was clear and full of ideas. I was obliged to admit I had been regarding life and human society through blinkered vision. I was now appreciating moments and details in a whole new way. There was more simple joy in my life!

I went to a couple of AA meetings but I did not feel comfortable. I am full of respect for what they offer and how they have helped so many people. It just was not my cup of tea. What I agree with them about is that no one can beat addiction on their own. It was during this period that I began revisiting my Christian faith.

Thanks mostly to my mother’s tireless, devout example, I had never entirely abandoned my belief in God. As a teenager intent on having as much fun as possible, I turned my back on my Catholic upbringing, and gave myself up to pursuing my own version of the rock and roll lifestyle. Still, when it suited me I turned to God, or at least acknowledged in my mind his undeniable presence.

There will be another time to chronicle in detail my journey for the last 11 years towards a better understanding and relationship with God. However I can think of no explanation for the transformation in my attitude to drink other than that I have been blessed with supernatural guidance.

When my mother died, I quite suddenly began drinking again. I drank a lot, but even so it was not the same as before. I had come to realise how much I enjoyed NOT drinking and treasured the time thus spent. In the last several years I have drunk less and less to the point where now I might have a drink every few weeks or so, in celebration of something or other, and maybe even have a bit of a party on that day! But I never drink the next day, and on a day to day basis, I am happier being sober and enjoying all the benefits of that.

In the bad old days, I more or less refused to suffer a hangover, and any time I awoke with one, I’d jump back in the river of booze as soon as possible. It took me a very long time to wake up to the fact that postponing suffering of this kind merely ensures greater suffering down the line. For me it is similar to the way society encourages us to work hard to acquire and maintain acceptable levels of comfort. La Grande Illusion!

In his most readable autobiography, ‘Music is my Mistress’, Duke Ellington writes of a moment in his late 20s when after a particular bout of partying he resolved to ‘retire undefeated’. Later in the book he describes enjoying vodka and caviar in some exotic place. This does not indicate that he had weakened his resolve, but rather that it was no longer a habit.

Retire undefeated. I like that.

Originating post: to drink or not to drink

Originating post: vying for position

I hold Margaret Thatcher and every jackass that followed responsible. Now in 2010 a fresh but frighteningly similar bunch of goons are asking that we elect them into power. They speak blithely of ‘change’ and ‘the common good’ and ‘a brighter future’ in tones that wouldn’t convince an 8 year old. In fact all they can honestly promise is that the will more or less perpetuate the stagnant, diseased behemoth their predecessors so cynically threw together.

They keep insisting that a vote for anyone other than one of them(the 3 main parties) is a wasted vote. Can we wake up now please? What’s on offer is a media-savvy slew of snake oil salesmen. Its all about what you are being seen to be rather than what you are. Who are they? They barely know themselves. All they are qualified to do is appear at ease among TV people and journalists. The real world? I don’t think so. You wouldn’t want Jonathan Ross to run the country would you?

The only thing worse than voting for one of them is not voting. Make a little effort. Its not too late to go out and form a personal opinion about one of the alternative party candidates. You will probably find that you like them much better. They probably wont win this time round. But every vote the same old greedy bastards don’t get is a nail in their coffin. They have to go. Lets make it sooner rather than later.

Dont be afraid. Vote with your heart.

Originating post: vote with your heart

As the aviation industry lurches tentatively back into action, its future seems more than ever suspended between desire and reality. How much longer can we expect to zip around the world with such ease?

Doubtless I will be labelled a doom monger when I itemise some of the factors stacked up against the indefinite future of air travel. While population growth is generating a demand for more and more planes, oil is running out, and the effect on the planet is unsustainable. This is miserable but well documented information that we are all to some extent in denial about.

What is more interesting is the value people individually place on travel. There always have and always will be those who travel in earnest. For them remains the endless quest of experiencing first hand other cultures and ways of life, of spending time among them, the better to understand our strange and wonderful world. Whether they are artists of some kind, writers or musicians, or just pilgrim souls committed to the itinerant life, they will continue their journey by any means available, often suffering privation and hardship. By their very nature they are effectively homeless. The road is their home.

This is not the case for most of us. In this jet age, so many of us cross the planet for short periods to get away from our everyday sedentary lives and return with a suntan, photos and trophies to show off to our neighbours. I suspect airports are full of people who have been dragged away by family or friends, when truthfully they would have much preferred to stay at home. I certainly know some who fit this description.

For the moment airlines and package holiday companies continue to seduce ordinary people into paying for trips, vacations and excursions. I wonder if that may begin to change soon. With TV and the internet providing better and better access to events and places worldwide, the casual traveller must be having second thoughts. Flying certainly isn’t glamorous any more. Unless you can afford first class, it is uncomfortable and tedious. Also, the age of cheap air travel is drawing to a close.

I have definitely taken advantage of this modern facility. I have moved about a good deal, and lived for periods of time in a number of different countries. However there is a downside. I now have family and friends scattered throughout the world. Most of them I rarely see. A hundred years ago, all the important people in my life would probably have been within a few hours of where I live.

Its my belief that in a hundred or so years from now, people will look back on this period as a peculiar blip in human history. Hurtling round the globe in winged, metal tubes? What for?

Originating post: fear of flying

How many of us are truly passionate supporters of these gangs of greedy bastards? This is a time when the Australian voting system would serve us well. Australians are required by law to vote, but there is an extra box on the ballot paper enabling voters to register there dislike of all the available candidates. Were we given that option in the UK, and we voted honestly, it would make for some interesting arithmetic.

If we are to have fresh blood taking over the reins of government, we have to vote for them. Yes they may lose at first, but the more people that vote for minority candidates, the more others with similar convictions will be inspired to do the same. And the more the incumbent fat cats will tremble in their custom made loafers. Instead of allowing the status quo to discourage potential future alternatives from running, we can positively encourage new candidates to step forward.

The only wasted vote is not voting at all. Don’t let the big boys fool you. They don’t care about you. Vote for someone who does.

Originating post: wasted votes

As a callow youth, I was quick to make this judgement of the genii I encountered, but never for a moment considered that I did the same thing. I liked to think that I applied a filter to what occurred in my fevered brain, sparing anyone nearby from my direst imaginings. The brainwaves that I made public were good and pure, immaculate conceptions all. I-yi-yi…

Once again, music saved me. Once I started playing music for real, jamming for hours on end with friends, it slowly dawned on me that only by letting it all out could I begin to express myself. As a musician I am still learning to think, play and filter simultaneously. How else can I expect to keep it fresh?

It is easy to forget that ideas are common property. Hanging onto ideas limits their potential. Ideas often need other ideas to realise their worth. We need to air all of our ideas, good and bad, so they can be fully revealed.  The good thing about a bad idea is it is only an idea. Once its seen for what it is, no one will waste much time with it.

Its a much used metaphor, but I like to think of my life as a garden where ideas are the seeds. Some grow and flourish. Some never germinate. Some ideas are eternal, others may be equally brilliant but gone in seconds. And so on. And clearly it is not my garden!

After all these years I’m not much wiser but I hope I’m a little more grateful. I pray that the ideas keep on coming. I believe they will.

Originating post: Not all ideas are good ones

How blessed we parents are! Over the years I have heard all kinds of reasons put forward for not having children….’the world is overcrowded’…..’we haven’t the money’…..’its downright irresponsible’….’I don’t think I’m ready’…’my work will suffer’….’its not for everyone’….and so on. If you are lucky enough to become a parent, in an instant, all these things become utterly meaningless.

I recall, in the flush of fresh parenthood, wanting to persuade everyone to make babies of their own. How insensitive and foolish this was. We are all blessed in different ways. Years ago, with the great Mumbo Gumbo, I recorded a song that light heartedly addressed this.

The saddest thing in our world is orphaned or unwanted children. If you have the means, please consider supporting SOS Children’s Villages, perhaps the most effective international organisation today caring worldwide for abandoned children. Johnny Cash, Angelina Jolie, and Nelson Mandela are just some of the distinguished believers in the SOS Children’s Villages mission.

Originating post: make babies

There is a distinction between judging actions, and judging the person who performed them based on those actions. Therein lies the hypocrisy. From time to time we all behave in ways we subsequently regret. We have little trouble making light of our own shortcomings,  so why is it that much more difficult to cut others the same slack?

We are most inclined to judge those about whom we know the least. When we truly love someone, not only do we admire and revere them, and delight in their company, but we also forgive them for their weaknesses, which we recognise as being not unlike our own.

As we get to know people better, we are less and less inclined to pass judgement, and eventually we are obliged to suspend judgement indefinitely.

Originating post: suspending judgement indefinitely

When speaking of heroes, often our first thought is of soldiers and battle. Warriors overcome their natural fear, risking and often losing their lives for the greater good. When we hear such accounts of supreme courage, and the ultimate sacrifice, we are humbled indeed. ‘Greater love hath no man…..’ Faced with such choices, how would we respond?

In fact all of us have opportunities to perform heroically from time to time. To what extent we rise to the occasion is the variable. For me, the true heroes are called upon to step up to the plate again and again.  They quietly live out heroic lives on a daily basis, asking no thanks, seeking no glory and expecting no reward. Single parents, carers of the disabled, the disabled themselves, doctors and nurses, missionaries….these are the more obvious ones. If you were to ask any one of them how or why they do it, they would probably say that they have no choice. They are just doing what has to be done.

I am lucky. Like many, my day-to-day difficulties are not the stuff of tragedy. I could compile a long list of complaints, but in the face of the hardships many others endure, I prefer to thank God for my good fortune.

One of the attributes of heroes, is that they inspire us to emulate their triumphs. We all know examples of these unsung heroes. And though they would never dream of asking for it, they could probably use some help. Let us pray that we discover ways to contribute to their efforts, as each of us, in our own quiet way, aspire to joining their ranks.

Originating post: true heroes