Out of the ice, into the fire

I'm taking a holiday (of sorts) in a certain repressive country in southern Africa, a place where aformentioned films are seemingly being re-enacted.

I'll be in touch.

Out of the woods.....

Here is some good news.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/6416835.stm

Five Nights of Bleeding

The solace of cinema proved elusive this weekend. By accident more than design I watched two films on Africa's brutal tendencies. In 'Blood Diamond' the horrors of civil war and child soldiers tore through Sierra Leone. In 'Last King of Scotland' Idi Amin's insanity tore through Uganda. Meanwhile in South Africa a dear friend recovered in hospital after being shot in a robbery. None of these stories have a silver lining, none depart from reality, and none reflect well on Africa.

For some reason I was reminded of Jamaican-Brit poet Linton Kwesi Johnson's 'Five Nights of Bleeding.' (imagine a thick Jamaican accent and a slow, rhythic cadence - its about riots in London).

Madness, madness

Madness tight on the heads of the rebels

The bitterness erup's like a heart blas'

Broke glass, ritual of blood an' a-burnin'

Served by a cruelin' fighting

5 nights of horror and of bleeding

Broke glass, cold blades as sharp as the eyes of hate

And the stabbin', it's

War amongs' the rebels

Madness, madness, war

-

Night number one was in Brixton

Sofrano B sound system

'im was a-beatin' up the riddim with a fire

'im comin' down his reggae reggae wire

It was a sound checkin' down your spinal column

A bad music tearin' up your flesh

An' the rebels dem start a fighting

De youth dem just tun wild, it's

War amongs' the rebels

Madness, madness, war

-

Night number two down at Sheppard's

Right up Railton road

It was a night name friday when ev'ryone was high on brew or drew(?)
A pound or two worth of Kali

Sound comin' down of the king's music iron

The riddim just bubblin' an' backfirin'

Ragin' an' risin'

When suddenly the music cut -
Steelblade drinkin' blood in darkness, it's

War amongs' the rebels

Madness, madness, war

-

Night number three, over the river

Right outside the Rainbow

Inside James Brown was screamin soul

Outside the rebels were freezin' cold

Babylonian tyrants descended

Bounced on the brothers who were bold

So with a flick of the wris', a jab and a stab

The song of hate was sounded

The pile of oppression was vomited

And two policemen wounded

Righteous, righteous war

-

Night number four at the blues dance, abuse dance

Two rooms packed and the pressure pushin' up

Hot, hotheads

Ritual of blood in the blues dance

Broke glass splintering, fire

Axes, blades, brain blas'

Rebellion rushin' down the wrong road

Storm blowin' down the wrong tree

And Leroy bleeds near death on the fourth night

In a blues dance, on a black rebellious night, it's

War amongs' the rebels

Madness, madness, war

-

Night number five at the telegraph

Vengeance walk thru de doors

So slow, so smooth

So tight and ripe and -smash!

Broke glass, a bottle finds a head

And the shell of the fire heard -crack!

The victim feels fear

Finds hands, holds knife, finds throat

Oh, the stabbins and the bleedin' and the blood, it's

War amongs' the rebels

Madness, madness, war

Madness applied

This man is a friggin saint and a fabulous mate. The picture was taken in 2003 in Attridgeville Township outside Pretoria. Since then on this site he has built a hospice to care for dying HIV/AIDS patients. He raised the money and runs it. It granted the gift of dignity to the dying where there was little. Why someone would invade this place and shoot him is beyond my capacity for comprehension. All thoughts towards a speedy recovery.

Conclusive evidence that the world is ****ed up

Irish priest shot in South Africa
Thursday, 1 March 2007 16:22

A missionary priest who is originally from Belfast has been shot in South Africa. Father Kieran Creagh, who works with Aids sufferers, was attacked at the hospice he built in Johannesburg. He is now said to be in a stable condition in hospital. Father Creagh's brother Liam said it was a traumatic experience: 'Two men came in and over-powered the guards. 'They went up to the apartment where he stays at the hospice and they rang the bell. He thought it was a patient coming to get him. 'He opened the door and I think there was a bit of a struggle. 'They fired two shots at least. One shot hit him in one of his lungs, and it is lodged there, and the other shot went through his arm.'
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South Africa: Gang Shoots Priest in Hospice Attack

Cape Argus (Cape Town)
March 1, 2007

The Irish priest who was the first person in South Africa and Africa to volunteer to take part in the country's first HIV vaccine trial run by the South African Aids Vaccine Initiative in 2003, is fighting for his life after being shot three times. Father Kieran Creagh heard a bell ring at his flat at the Leratong Hospice in Soshanguve, near Pretoria, last night and thought it was a nurse summoning him to come and pray with a dying patient. But when he opened the door he was confronted by eight gunmen. He was shot three times. Creagh, director of the hospice and who lives on the premises, was alone in his flat when he was attacked by the gang, which appears to have taken his cellphone and DVD player.

This morning Creagh was in critical condition in ICU at the Zuid Afrikaans Hospital. Matron Ramigia Tloubatla, who accompanied him in the ambulance and was at his side throughout the night, said surgeons were planning to operate soon. She said Creagh had remained awake and had spoken to her about what had happened. "He said somebody rang the bell and he thought it was a nurse calling him to a patient. But when he opened the door he was confronted with a gun ... and then they were all on top of him. About eight guys," she said. - Staff Reporter

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Please keep Kieran in your thoughts and prayers (of whatever brand).

Random London

Every minute in this manic city a thousand unusual things unveil themselves. Alas, most disappear in the moment of their discovery. On the way to school this morning I was lucky enough to spot three.

1) A quiet balding man, resplendent in track pants and a belly-bloated t-shirt, stepped out of the silverlink carriage at Caladonia Road Station, turned on a sixpence, and waved goodbye to the train until it disappeared around the bend.

2) At Kings Cross Station, a girl of 20 grinned at the world through double dimples. In the middle of each dimple she wore a metal stud, the perfect complement to her multiple nose rings, her tattooed neck and her boyfriend's gravity defying mohawk.

3) In covent garden two monocyles were chained to adjacent lamp posts.