Us and them

The working classes are the reason for their own downfall and their own predicaments.

They are the ones who bought the Sun and the Daily Mail et al. They are the ones who have consistently voted Tory, LibDem and Blue Labour. 

They are the ones who voted for Brexit.

They are the ones who allowed the financial rape and pillage of the UK to happen. They are the reason why there’s not enough housing.

They are the ones who allowed services to be constantly cut, for privatisation to happen.

They are the ones that continue to allow themselves to be exploited.

They are the ones who voted for austerity.

They are the ones who voted for neo liberalism, for shit jobs, for stress, for zero hours contracts. They created the precariat.

They are the ones who abandoned the unions.

They are the ones who were turkeys consistently voting for Christmas. And they still continue to do so.

Of course I say ‘they’ but what I really mean is ‘we’, for it is we that have allowed this. 'We' because I am working class, and reading this, you are probably working class too!

Why do we continue down this road of self harm?

What is wrong with us?

It's not somebody else's fault. We are to blame. When is it ever going to stop?

Why is it so fucking difficult?

Why do we remain so fucking divided?

I consider myself a socialist. One of the many things I have always found irritating about the leftwing is the way many eulogise the working class. We, the working class, are our own worst enemy. There's more of us than them. We outnumber them by an extraordinary factor, yet we seem incapable of doing anything about it.

Stop falling for their shit. Stop taking their shiny beads. Their money has no real value. No money has value. All money is artifice. The only thing of value is our labour. It is the only currency.

Wake up!

Nowhere Man continued

 It's well over two years now since we moved to France. Thankfully we've just had our visas renewed for another year.  Am I feeling any better another year on? Not really.

Much of the problem is down to the year I've had. It's not been the best of years for quite a number of reasons. The shit year has meant that because of outside forces I've either not been able to concentrate or spend enough time on learning French. Not having a reasonable command of the language causes me a great deal of anxiety and stress. If I'm honest I don't enjoy the process of learning languages. They are illogical and as a consequence my brain just can't cope at times. It is a painful process.

Don't get me wrong, I like where I live. It's a nice place and the climate is very agreeable. The standard of living is very good too. It is this overwhelming feeling of being totally out of control that I find so difficult.

Hopefully time will change things but it's a very slow process.

Sylvia

 My mum died in August, she was 92. That’s truly a long life. She was ready to go. She’d been in a lot of pain for a couple of years so it was a merciful release. 70 years is a long time to have your mum in your life. So this Christmas will be the first one that I won’t talk to her. Much to my sisters’ annoyance I was her favourite. She always denied that, but I know I was her favourite. I was always her little boy, right up to the day she died, and her little boy was with her to the end. I watched as she drew her last breath and peacefully slipped away.

Even though I was her little boy we used to have quite vigorous discussions, sometimes bordering on the edge of arguments, and I have to say I lost it the day she told me she’d voted for brexit. Mother, I always called her that, came from a long line of puritanical bigots. Staunch chapel folk who never let their ‘Christianity’ interfere with their judgemental bigotry. Respectable English middle class white people who believed in hard work and a lifestyle not too comfortable or ostentatious. Of course the family wasn’t really English because a generation or so prior to my granddad's, the family had come from Scotland. Grandad also married a Scots woman, my Nana. I’ve really worked hard to break the bigotry chain. I hope I've succeeded. I now tend to use that trait as a source of humour or making a point.

I do have a lot to thank mother for I led a reasonably nice life thanks to her. Before I was born she had worked in a music/record shop, Harper’ in Bury St Edmunds, she absolutely adored music. Something I inherited from her. She could play the piano. Her parents had owned a baby grand piano. She had lessons when she was old enough. Her and her brothers also slept under it during the war apparently. Working in the music shop enabled her to build up quite a collection, for the fifties, of records. Music was so often on in our house, either records or the radio. We didn’t have a telly until I was about five. Mum was always quite creative and certainly helped and encouraged me with my drawing and painting. Her father, having filled my head with stories of his travels when in the navy, this  fuelled my desire to travel. It was my mother who paid for me to go on two educational cruises in the Mediterranean when I was at secondary school. It added so much to my life. 

My dad was never happy about it but mum went out to work once my youngest sister went to school. I by default, being the eldest child,  took on some responsibilities. I walked to school with my youngest sister and spent the first year when she was at school having school dinners with the infants to be with and look after her. During the school holidays I was responsible for seeing that we had our lunch. To begin with Mum would make something for me to heat up, but later I would actually part prepare or totally prepare a simple meal. Mum taught me to cook, which I’m very grateful for. Mum worked really hard, mostly in food factories, and it enabled us to have a comfortable lifestyle. Again something I am very grateful for.

Later when I was first married she would provide foodstuffs from the factory shop she worked at for us. Then when my marriage broke up her and her husband gave me a roof over my head for a few months. When she was widowed and I was a bit better off I did try and repay her whenever I could. She was however a stubborn old bugger (another family trait)  and certainly refused to be helped on occasions when she really needed it.

She died in hospital but had spent her final four weeks prior to that in a care home. She never wanted to be ‘any trouble’, but of course by being like she was, it did actually cause trouble. Unfortunately I’m a bit like that too.

We were never a hugging or kissing family, which is why I find social affection difficult. I did however kiss her forehead and told her I loved her the day before she died. 

Me and mum

The Measure of Right-Wingery

“The Measure of Right-Wingery” is a scale linking the spectrum of right-wing behaviour from all bullying to the extreme that is fascism, and all other right wing politics in between. The left-hand side depicts bullying — the impulse to dominate, belittle, or control others — while the right-hand side culminates in fascism, where these same instincts are systematised into political ideology and state power. The gauge suggests that right-wing tendencies share a common foundation in hierarchical thinking, authoritarianism, and the belief that strength justifies control. As one moves along the scale, these traits grow more organised and ideological, transforming from personal cruelty into collective oppression. Bullying, and all right wing thinking, including fascism are not separate phenomena, but are points on a continuum of coercion and dehumanisation that underpins the far-right worldview. All right wing views will be on this scale somewhere.

Don’t tell them I’m an introvert I can’t stand crowds

It’s not easy being an introvert. I’ve struggled all my life with things that require me to enter social situations. Social media can be highly beneficial for introverts because it provides a comfortable space for communication without the pressure of face-to-face interaction. Many introverts find it easier to express their thoughts and ideas through writing rather than speaking, and social media platforms allow them to share opinions, creativity, and experiences at their own pace. This flexibility helps introverts build confidence in social interactions and maintain connections without feeling drained or overwhelmed by constant in-person engagement. It has helped me no end.

Social media also allows introverts to find and connect with like-minded people across the world,  join online communities, follow interests, and engage in meaningful discussions about topics they truly care about. This sense of belonging helps them form deep, genuine relationships that might be harder to develop in traditional social settings. In this way, social media not only enhances social interaction for introverts but also helps them thrive emotionally and intellectually in a way that suits their personality. I’ve met a lot of nice people through social media. It can be a force for good if used in the right way.

Three score years and ten

 I'm not sure celebrating a bit of longevity due to what is effectively a mix of genetics and lifestyle is really something I want to do. Plus recently a few problems have reared their ugly heads to get  in the way of celebrating, even if I wanted to. But we won't dwell on that. Today is my birthday and the good news is that I have a selection of beer and a bag of crisps, well when I say crisps I really mean a big bag of cheesy puffs, my favourite. And essentially that’s enough for me. 

Famous people I share a birthday with include, Brian Cox (son of Dundee, and actor), Tom Robinson, Roonie Wood, Mike Joyce, Jonathan Pryce, Morgan Freeman and Robert Powell. Famous dead people who were born on this day (because of course dead people don't have birthdays) include Marilyn Monroe, Bob Monkhouse, Edward Woodward, Cleavon Little and Nelson Riddle.

As I've said before many times, in my head I'm still seventeen. Obviously my body increasingly laughs at this and refuses to play ball but I do feel that refusing to grow old mentally helps a little.

I've always made my art for my own amazement, I have been in exhibitions a few times, but I haven't put a lot of effort into it, it has to be said. There are occasions though when I think I would like my Warholian fifteen minutes but for my art rather than me. I guess that I'm a very shy person has never helped. Anyway if someone reading this can influence in any way my art reaching a much wider audience I'd really like that please.

Anyway, as you were.

Au revoir Meta and Twitter

 This year I decided to slim down the social media apps that I use. I got rid of Twitter which had become far too toxic to use. I also got rid of the Meta nonsense too; Facebook, Instagram and Threads. Twitter I used to enjoy but Meta I have always thought was shite. I only ever wanted to see stuff in chronological order. Meta can't comprehend such logic. So fuck em!

At first I found it strange, and a little lost, but I soon got over it. I feel much happier about not wasting so much time. It has though reduced the audience I had for my art. But then I don't make money from my art so it doesn't greatly matter.

15/8/25 I have just relinquished and opened a new account just for my Perfunctory Blancmange dadist memes. A low impact presence.

Marley's ghost

 “Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever, about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it; and Scrooge's name was good upon change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.”

One of the few things that I've always liked about Christmas is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I don't remember a time when I didn't know the story. Of course I was brought up on Alistair Sim's film version and to this day it remains the definitive version in my view, but I like many other versions too. It's a story that never fails to bring a tear to my eye.

I have to confess that I didn't actually read the book until about five years ago. One thing that I wasn't expecting was that it would also bring a tear to my eye. It totally took me by surprise. That’s how good the writing is.

Anyway here’s a picture I drew loosely based on a Frank Findlay interpretation of Marley’s ghost. Enjoy.

Christmas tortoise advent calendar

As I’ve written here before, I’m not a big fan of Christmas. It’s the forced jollity and the over commercialisation that irritates me. It is after all just a celebration of the winter solstice. But anyway there are some things I like. I like candles, lights, public decorations and a modicum of comestibles. I dislike a lot of the nonsense and ritual that surrounds the period. But anyway a few years ago, spending a Christmas in France I discovered the Christmas Tortoise. From that point on the whole meaning of Christmas has been tortoise. So this year I thought I would create a sort of online advent calendar. My gift to the world that celebrates. You can find it here.

I hope they at least bring a modicum of amusement. The world is a shit place, and at this time of year the shit is amplified. Please do what you can to spread some cheer. If you feel able, please give to one or all of the following:

DEC

Oxfam

Trussell Trust

Please share across social media if you can.

Void of war

 I've long loved the work of Paul Nash. His poignant war paintings never fail to move me. My favourite is this one:

Void of war, 1918

I've actually seen this picture in the flesh so to speak. It stopped me dead in my tracks, and I stood looking at it for ages. It's simple, stark and effective. It appears to convey the futility, destruction and total waste and stupidity of war.

He was a wonderful painter. You can read more about him and further examples of his war art here on The Public Domain Review.

I went to Arles and discovered an artist

 As you wander the streets of Arles, echoes of the past are with you always. It's like no other place I've ever been. Like much of France it has a frayed beauty. Everywhere you look there is something interesting. A feast for the eyes. A crinkly smile comes to me as you look up at a quant building.

Van Gogh fell in love with the place; it's not hard to understand why. It's packed full of Roman and mediaeval architecture. So centre ville won't have changed that much since his time. There is a photograph around every corner, and I've probably taken that many. Here are a selection:

Nowhere man

 It's over a year now since moving to France. For a number of reasons it's not been an easy ride but it has been a necessary one. I consider myself a refugee. A Brexit refugee. Someone who has fled the rain, the disappointment and the gross stupidity that is England. I feel that the country of my birth birth has rejected me and my ilk. I certainly don't feel that I have rejected my country. The country that I knew and loved no longer exists; ruined by racists and other assorted morons. It is a country firmly in self destruct mode. It will not improve until it rejoins the EU. I can't imagine I'll live to see that day.

If I'm honest I don't feel totally at home here, but I've no desire to go back. I feel like I'm living in a nomansland. I am a nowhere man treading water. Don't get me wrong, I live in a lovely place and the people are very friendly here. I'm the problem. I don't really fit. But then I don't really fit anywhere now.

Alt Text Zealots

 This is possibly going to upset some people unfortunately. There are usually two sides to every story and I don't think that the alt text zealots realise how much anxiety they cause people like me by judging everyone who falls short on the alt text front as being all the same. I believe in equality. It upsets me if I upset other people. I want the world to be as inclusive as possible and I have no desire to discriminate against the partially sighted. But do you know how painful the stress of trying to think about describing a picture, and failing to do so, can be? I just can't do it. It's why my alt text is either sparse or non-existent. It's one of the reasons I'm an artist. I think in pictures, I just can't put into words what I want to say. I have virtually no descriptive powers. I am descriptively illiterate. My brain doesn't work like that. It's why my alt text is a few words or nothing at all.

My ability to put into words what I see is next to useless. It stops me from putting many pictures on social media. Perhaps that's a good thing? I really couldn't say. All I know is that I'm constantly torn. Do I publish a picture or do I not? Perhaps my sight privilege is distorting my opinion on this? I do not know.

I do hope that one day AI will be utilised to provide a solution because it not only impacts on those with impaired visibility it also impacts on those of us of limited descriptive ability.

It's not about laziness. If it was I wouldn't have written this! It is upsetting for me. I don’t like being like this.

The imaginary art of Paul Garrard

 I asked an AI picture generator to produce pictures on the subject of "The imaginary art of Paul Garrard" and it produced four pictures. I've no idea how it arrived at the pictures it produced as they bear no resemblance to anything I've done. But anyway I've mounted them in a frame and they are displayed below:

For my real art please visit my gallery.

One fine day...

 One fine day in the middle of the night,

Two dead men got up to fight,

Back to back they faced each other,

Drew their swords and shot one another.

Living their best life

Last Thursday evening we had a very nice meal at the coast. The restaurant is right on the seafront. We had a table that was just inside but with a view looking out to the Mediterranean sea. It was a cloudy but warm evening and the sea was quite tranquil.

Also at the restaurant at the same time were two other couples, a smartly dressed older lady on her own and a group of about six ladies of a certain age. The group of ladies gave the impression that they were living their best life. They were all quite brightly dressed , talking and laughing and one was puffing on a huge cigar. They ordered three or four bottles of wine and then ordered food. They were clearly having a good time chatting and enjoying each other's company.

When I was a child, people of my grandparents' generation were old. They looked old, they thought old and they acted old. I'm pleased that many of the people of my generation refuse to be like that. Including me. Stay young people!

The Illusion of Ownership: Digital Art's Existential Quandary

 You can't buy my art. It doesn't exist.

In a world where physical ownership is often equated with value, the realm of digital art poses a fascinating paradox—it exists, yet doesn't exist in the traditional sense. Schrödinger's art if you will. Unlike tangible artworks that occupy physical space, digital art challenges our notions of ownership and tangibility.

The essence of art lies in its ability to evoke emotions, provoke thoughts, and challenge perceptions. However, digital art blurs the lines between the tangible and the intangible. It resides in the digital ether, accessible with a click, yet elusive in its formlessness.

While we can admire digital art on screens, share it with others, and even purchase digital copies*, the notion of ownership becomes nebulous. Unlike a physical painting or sculpture that we can possess, display, and pass down through generations, digital art exists in a realm where replication is effortless, and originality is often questioned. This is what I so love about it. Art as a commodity is just bollocks.

The concept of scarcity, which underpins the value of many physical artworks, loses its footing in the digital domain. With the ease of duplication and distribution, the scarcity that drives traditional art markets is diluted, challenging the conventional mechanisms of valuation.

Moreover, the intangible nature of digital art raises questions about authenticity and authorship. In a world where digital manipulation is commonplace, distinguishing between an original work and a reproduction becomes increasingly complex.

Yet, despite these challenges, the allure of digital art persists. Its fluidity allows for experimentation, collaboration, and democratisation of artistic expression. Artists can transcend geographical boundaries, reach global audiences, and engage in dynamic interactions with their viewers.

Ultimately, the paradox of digital art lies in its ephemeral nature—it exists in the digital realm, yet its impact transcends screens and pixels. While we may not be able to possess digital art in the traditional sense, its influence on our culture, creativity, and imagination is undeniable.

In embracing digital art, we confront the evolution of artistic expression and redefine our relationship with the intangible. As we navigate this ever-changing landscape, we are reminded that the true essence of art lies not in its physical form, but in the emotions and ideas it inspires. It is the ultimate art!

I actually like the fact that my art does not exist. I like that it can only ever be printed as a copy if, for some reason, a physical copy needs to be displayed. I gave up trying to sell my art quite a while ago. I found the whole process of trying to hawk my wares to be a pain in the arse. Now I just make my art and if people get something out of it then that's good. If not then it doesn't greatly matter. Not being an artmonger is quite liberating.

*I realise that there'll be some knobhead who will probably mention NFTs and all I would say to that is please do fuck off.

Cash is king

And like any monarchy it exploits and oppresses people.

To all those ostriches who are continually whining on the social medias about cashless businesses, self-service tills and using cash. You need to wake up. You're wasting your energy on a lost cause. And indeed the wrong cause. All because you are frightened of change. These changes are inevitable. You will not stop them. The cashless society is coming. The real enemy is not the cashless society. The real enemy is capitalism. Capitalism is all consuming. It is wasteful. It is inherently unfair. And it has total control. But, It doesn't have to be like this. Put your energy into something productive. Take back control in the only way possible. Support, promote and fight for socialism. It is the only sane, equitable, fair and credible solution. Socialism will ensure your safety. Nothing else will.

At best all you'll do by complaining is delay the demise of cash a little. If you think that cash somehow makes you immune from control then you are a complete idiot. Governments can make cash valueless overnight if they so wished. It could be that easy. Cash only has value if it is backed by a government. In other words it only has value if a government says it has value.

Stop worrying about the minutiae and focus on the bigger picture. You have no freedom because you have opted out of democracy. Because you are too lazy or stupid to join in. As a consequence the cancer that is right-wingery (the political wing of capitalism) has taken hold. If you'd been a bit more vociferous about losing control of your rights, or just plainly voting them away then you might not be so fearful. Cash isn't going to save you. Nothing will save the completely stupid. FFS wake up.

 

I'm not afraid of AI

 I know I've written before about AI but I thought a little update on my thoughts etc. might be useful. Well for me it would.

I know that there's been a lot of scaremongering and quite frankly false information about AI but it really does have great potential to enhance our lives. I think that for a start AI is wrongly named. Artificial intelligence is a bit of a misnomer really. It isn't really intelligent, as far as I can understand it. At the end of the day it is just software. Albeit very sophisticated software. Essentially its software that recognises and discovers patterns. The universe is governed by numbers and patterns. Who knows, one day it might even tell us why the meaning of life, the universe and everything is 42. As always it's just a tool. You have nothing to fear from it. And as always it is people you have to fear. Particularly people who think that AI is infallible. 

The Post Office debacle showed us that if you believe software (which is written by humans) isn't intrinsically flawed then people suffer. Nothing is perfect. Software certainly isn't.

Having said all that, AI definitely has its uses. I find it useful to sometimes incorporate it into my art. I think of it as a pseudo ekphrasis. Offering inspiration in a serendipitous form. It's also useful for writing stuff. As those who've read this blog on previous occasions will know I'm not really an accomplished writer. I struggle to get across what I want to say. But I want to say stuff, and sometimes I'm put off from saying it because the words just don't come. That's where AI comes in. You can get AI to form the skeleton and perhaps some flesh. After which one's own personal input can be added and edited. I think it's going to be invaluable. It's going to help with all sorts of technical things in our daily. We just have to make sure we understand that it is just software.

I have decided anything created in this way will be credited to G.P.Thomson. A name I have made up. I would also add that AI was not used in the writing of this post but it was for the picture.

Nothing is random

The concept that "nothing is random" suggests that every event or occurrence in the universe is interconnected and influenced by various factors, rendering true randomness non-existent. This perspective stems from the belief that all phenomena, even seemingly unpredictable ones, are governed by underlying laws, principles, or causes that may not be immediately apparent. In this view, randomness is merely a limitation of human understanding rather than a fundamental aspect of reality. It suggests that if we possessed complete knowledge of all relevant factors, we could predict and explain every outcome, eliminating the notion of true randomness. Proponents of this idea often argue that seemingly random events are the result of complex interactions between numerous variables or systems, making them deterministic in nature. However, it's worth noting that this viewpoint remains a subject of philosophical debate and may not be universally accepted.