Category: psychology of change
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What does Great Britain Stand for, these Days ?
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What do we Brits stand for, these days, now that we have “taken back control” ? Judging by our government’s grossly inadequate management of Corvid-19 – we stand for incompetence, incoherence and dishonesty. Judging by Mr Johnson’s recent conduct over the Brexit negotiations – we are represented by the fatuous and delusional bravado of a juvenile…
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Might Labour be the Force to Renew UK Politics ?
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Our democratic politics isn’t working and, in my view, its dysfunction is one of the major causes of our present national crisis. In so many ways, our political structures and democratic processes – not just here in the UK, but manifestly in other countries too – are under attack and also in question. We have…
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High Noon is Nearly Upon Us. Where’s the Sheriff ?
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Around the world, the hoodlums and outlaws are running amok, in their suits of armour made of lies. By contrast, the sheriffs seem downcast, overwhelmed and on the run. I feel downcast and overwhelmed, too. Might it mean that I’m a sheriff, in disguise ? But there is no star in my cupboard. The picture…
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The Parrot Finds Himself Ahead of the Law
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Has the parrot started confusing himself with Dr Who ? And his cage with the Tardis ? One thought here is that – post computers and social media etc – we are settlers in the new country, the new world, which these discoveries have made for us. Essentially, we are still strangers in it and…
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Dust
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Lost in the chaos of present events, we – or something in us – look to leadership for orientation, guidance and comfort. And the same something perhaps assumes that, the worse the crisis, the better that leadership must be and rescue is on the way. And assumes as well that, in this chaos, our own…
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Still the Parrot Paces
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In the third stanza of “Speak, Parrot” by John Skelton, you’ll find these lines : “With my bekė bent, my little wanton eye,/ My feathers fresh as is the emerald green,/About my neck a circulet like the rich ruby,/ my little leggės, my feet both feat and clean,/ I am a minion to wait upon…
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The Parrot Wails
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The parrot thought he was studying the tea leaves. Instead he found himself watching in horror as the tea cup crumbled in his hand… continue reading