Everything is going to hell in a handcart – including me

‘Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.’

William Butler Yeats , The Second Coming

I first heard this poem many years ago but it was just a poem then. It was written in 1919 at the beginning of the Irish War of Independence when Ireland sought to free itself from English rule. However, this was not happening in a vacuum, Europe had just been through the First World War and there was still plenty going on as you can see below.

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Kaizen as an answer to racism

The word ‘immigrant’ has become so politically charged that the leader of the USA is willing to destroy the agricultural, tourist and other sectors of the economy in pursuing a policy of terrorising and deporting anyone with a sun tan. We have our own tinpot mini-me Trump on this side of then pond too, the loathsome Nigel Farage, a man who recently testified in Congress that the US should increase tariffs against the UK because it had turned into ‘North Korea’. If it was, he would be ‘disappeared’ on arrival back in the UK. This traitor would sacrifice British people’s jobs and living standards in order to get his hands on the reins of government.

I am the son of immigrants but, of course, I don’t get anyone screaming at me to ‘go back where you come from’ (which would of course be Birmingham). That’s because my family came from Ireland and I am white. However, I clearly remember someone saying just that to my father when I was a kid and of course the sign below was on many boarding houses.

I have had a taste of racism and it has always stayed with me. It is a bitter taste. How people with different skin tones and looks put up with it every day is beyond me. What is also beyond me is how people can virulently hate someone they have never met and know nothing about.

Times are hard and the world is going to hell in a handcart so people are looking for answers. Populist fascists such as Trump and Farage always have a simple and glib solution. The problem isn’t you and what you’ve let happen to the world, it’s all their fault. You know, those over there who look a bit different.

I used to wonder how Germany slipped into becoming a fascist Nazi state but no more. The USA is well on its way as it removes all the democratic guardrails, puts the military on its streets and seeks to shut down any dissenting views. I have despaired at my inability to do anything. It’s like standing on a hillside and seeing two trains coming towards each other at speed on a single track. There is nothing you can do except watch.

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Crime fiction in a world turned upside down

We now live in a world where lies are considered to be the equal of truth, cruelty is the norm and old friends are being stabbed in the back. Diplomacy now consists of shouting louder than the other guy and breaking all your promises. Malignant narcissism is in fashion.

My late wife was a historian and she was especially interested in the English Revolution (popularly known as the English Civil War). ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ was a popular ballad at the time and was also the title of her favourite book. My wife thought that it a good description of the time when a King’s power was absolute. Many thought that these powers were oppressive and groups such as the Diggers and Levellers tried to build a world where everyone had certain inalienable rights. They were, of course, hounded and oppressed by the King for daring to say such things. Many suffered greatly at the King’s hand and so chose to leave England behind and look for a land where they would be free of absolute rulers. These men and women founded the United States of America. Considering that the USA has now elected a King, I find that there is some irony in this.

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What you want and what you need

You can’t always get what you want but if you try some time, you just might find that you get what you need.

This is the chorus from a Rolling Stones song from the 1969 album ‘Let It Bleed’. It was one of many Stones’ songs that we covered in one of my first bands. Even though I was only in my teens, I recognised that there was some wisdom in that refrain and now, some fifty-five years later, I still think the same.

I sometimes wake up in the morning with a song going through my head and, if it’s one I like, I don’t really mind. The other day it was this song and it got me thinking about the things I’ve desperately wanted at times in my life and what I ended up getting.

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It’s been quite a while…

…since I last posted. I lost my wife just over six months ago and I have felt as if I’ve been at the bottom of a deep dark hole ever since. I have hardly put together a sentence although I now have all the time in the world to write. However, I am trying and this post is my first step in that direction.

This picture has special meaning for me. As my wife and I had both gotten older, one of our favourite things to do in the evening was to light a load of candles and then, in the snug warmth of their glow, we would talk. We had been together over thirty years but we could still talk for hours on end. Many of the plots for my books came out of these candle lit discussions. I miss that.

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The Sound of Silence…

I haven’t posted anything for a few months. I just couldn’t find the words to say.

After a long illness, my wife and partner for well over thirty years, died a few months ago. Even though we knew what was coming, it was still a shock and one that I don’t think I’ll ever get over.

My favourite times during our life together were when we settled down for the evening and talked over a glass of something. We would talk for hours about this and that and I never got bored with anything she had to say. Even after thirty years she could still surprise me. Now it is just silence. The utter finality of death is the hardest thing to take.

Kathleen encouraged me to write and was the first and best reader of all my books. She was never afraid to criticise my work and my books ended up being all the better for it. Mac Maguire is as much hers as mine. She was a selfless, caring person and, amazingly, stayed positive throughout the whole of her journey with cancer. This made it easier for her doctors, nurses and carers and for me too.

I now feel unmoored and desperate at times but I know that my life was all the better for having known her.

God bless you, Kathleen…

Kathleen Bridget McGuire

November 1960 to November 2023

My new detective – Biddie O’Sullivan

As a writer, I try to make plans but I’ve learned that, sometimes, such plans can very quickly go out of the window. I was halfway through Mac Maguire’s fourteenth adventure, A Murdered Crow, when a new idea hit me pretty much out of the blue. It was all Mac’s fault really as I had him reviewing some crime novels as part of his investigation into a murder and, in order to give him some clues, I had to invent a couple of authors and their fictional detectives. One of these fictional characters was called Detective Inspector Biddie O’Sullivan who works out of Cork City, Ireland. As I say, Biddie was invented just to help Mac’s plot along but, somehow, she stuck in my head.

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Why FOLO (fear of losing out) shouldn’t ever be an issue

I was prompted to write this after driving home from hospital the other day. My wife’s temporary residence there has meant me trying every route from home to hospital to find out which might be the best. There are three routes that I can take –

  • The motorway. This should be quickest but it rarely is as there are usually queues to get on and off at either end. These queues can be quite horrendous at rush hour so this option is chancy and can turn out to be the slowest by far
  • A narrow country road which can only be driven down slowly and is quite a few miles longer. However, there is very little queueing even at rush hours
  • A main road which runs alongside the motorway. A sort of halfway house, as it’s shorter in distance than the country road but it can still hit a queue at the end

So, one of these routes will be the optimum at any given time of day but which one?

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My Top Ten crime movies

I was recently thinking about how movies have been a constant backdrop in my life and how crime movies, especially film noir, have contributed in leading me into a career in crime writing. There are loads of Top Ten lists around and I began wondering what my Top Ten of crime movies might look like. You can see them below and they are in no particular order.

Please note that I don’t claim that any of these are the best crime movies ever, they are just the ones that I like most.

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Spring and it all starts again…

My cherry tree is in bloom again. I say ‘my’ but it doesn’t belong to me. It’s situated on the street just in front of my house and I must look at it at least thirty to forty times a day through my window while I’m resting my eyes from my computer screen. In winter, its just bare branches and for most of the summer its leaves are a quiet dark green but, at this time of the year, it literally bursts into blossom.

I know that its luscious pinky-red blooms will soon fade but, for me, this is the true start to the new year when life on our beautiful planet wakes itself up and says goodbye to the listlessness of winter.

Despite the daily drip, drip, drip of generally bad news about bad people doing horrendous things, my cherry tree lifts me up when I look out of my window. It is the promise of warm days, walking around in T shirt and shorts, sitting outside a coffee shop or a pub watching people go by and of brightness after the heavy dull overcast of winter.

It is also hope.

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