I'm not the one with the problem

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Dancing withe Daffodils

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I now see that, yes, consciousness as self-defined “I” is a necessary illusion. The patriarchal God of monotheist religions is an outward projection of this illusion. Or at least it is a clumsy-complex method of trying to shoehorn spirituality or loss of self into a self-centred universe. This idea of consciousness turns the human body into a kind of armoured vehicle out of which the “individual” data processing machine peers as it trundles through life. Our civilised culture is based on separation. My own frustration is that I have always found this process of viewing life as a separation a rather non-intuitive act that I have non the less persevered with rather too diligently out of duty to the monotheist God that was indoctrinated into my data processing system by table thumping RE teachers. Self-awareness is not an integral part of being human but it strikes me that books such as "I am a Strange Loop" discuss it as if it were. The idea of indi...
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Richard Cabut - Kick presentation for the University of East London

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  PRESENTATION       Hi, my name is Richard Cabut. I’m a writer –  I wrote for the BBC for ten years, and contributed to the national press, including Guardian and the Telegraph.  Plays.  Etc.  But I started off, in the late 7 0 s and 8os with a fanzine called Kick.       Punk started in the UK in 1976. But  As the 1970s turned into the 1980s, punk splintered into factions and entered a period of reinvention. Such a process was traced across numerous fanzines, but Kick  was among,  it’s been said , the most astute. Configuring punk as a culture of individuality, creativity and rebellion, Kick helped lay the foundations for a ‘positive punk’, a proto-gothic scene that channelled punk’s spirit into more esoteric and expressive channels. This presentation contextualizes the need for a more positive reading of punk in the 1980s and explores the world, of squats, magick and make-up from which  Kick  and other suc...
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Football dads

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  I have become a football dad. Okay I was already one last season but that was football-dad-lite and came free. For a start it was, whisper it, a church league. There was always a prayer before kick off and one of the hazards was a certain coach who seemed to enjoy asking me, in a Columbo style line of questioning, to remind him which church we went to. My son’s team, despite being an overspill squad, won the league in what turned out to be a nail biting close to the season. This season he is playing for an eleven a side team and I am suddenly one of the squad drivers. Last week in the car park one of the boys remarked on the soft suspension and I became aware of just how low I had let the tyre pressure get. Now coming from a family of panickers I always get a sinking feeling when confronted with something as simple as a flat tyre. It feels like fate has caught up with me and has decided to show me I was never meant to be a vehicle owner (Our family panicking is well founded and n...
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