The election has just been, poll stations closed an hour or two ago. On the northern line, somewhere downtown before midnight, a middle class looking young white woman is wrapped in a red scarf and on her bag of leather, potentially fake (‘vegan’), a Labour sticker is already starting to peel off. Her pretty face is one of sadness this evening and as the carriage travels stubbornly along in …
moremoneytotheNHSmoremoneytotheNHSmoremoneytotheNHSmoremoney
When everyone talks with one voice – You should get suspicious. As of healthcare, Johnson and Corbyn, and most others, don’t seem to be able to say anything else than “more money to the NHS.” Holy cows are subjects that have, for whatever reason, become so charged that a free and open-minded discussion is impossible. Through letting emotions rule over reason, they are distorting the …
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Faces of Jerusalem
November 2019 Arab girl playing in the old city. She and her friend insisted on giving me sweets. A young police officer shows flattered embarrassment when I asked if I could take her picture. If you come across a Haredi jew who looks you happily in the eye while he kicks off an English pop song for you on his guitar; you can be sure he is a Ba'al Teshuva. A Jew who has …
My friend, it’s never too late
Every other morning, on the stairs outside my door, there’s an empty bottle of Glen’s vodka. Someone sits there, very close to me, and drinks his Glen’s several times every week. Who is it? I’ve started to think about him (her?). This thirsty guy is my fellow Finchley resident and I feel sorry for him. It doesn’t have to be like this. Thing is, I’ve been in similar places myself, but I’ve …
Pussy-cat, our shrink and saviour
Some say that the Brits aren't a famous nation of animal-lovers, but rather an emotionally disturbed lot that are projecting all their neuroses on their innocent, but sometimes confused, pets. I think I know what they mean. Somewhere in the third world, a long time ago now, I found myself tempted by severely attractive women. They all promised me a good time. Trouble was, at some point there …
No orange juice please – we’re the NHS
Seven o’clock in the morning and the hospital canteen was serving up breakfast. The porridge came at £0.75 a bowl. Suspiciously I grabbed the ladle and stirred around for a while but there was nothing wrong with the porridge and I duly jammed a paper bowl full to the brim, squeezed on the lid and headed to the beverage section. I have juice with my breakfast. For me, it’s a good start. With …
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